‘If I were you, I’d strip down,’ she said. ‘You’ve been in the water. You’ve probably got these buggers all over you.’
Joe took off his shirt and pants in the confined space of the tunnel and inspected his chest in the shifting yellow glow. He counted a dozen leeches.
‘There are more on your back. Here…’ The woman carefully burned them off. ‘You’ve probably got some down there, too,’ she said, gesturing at his underpants. ‘But you can get them off.’ There was no smile accompanying that. She was all business.
‘Where did you come from?’ he asked over the sizzling and popping of the leeches.
‘Same place you did. I was in economy, down the back. I always travel down the back. Statistically gives you the best chance of surviving a crash. I saw the part of the plane I was seated in down the bottom of a gorge. I don’t think there would have been any survivors in it. So, so much for statistics,’ she said with the suggestion of a wry smile. ‘Anyway, I got lucky. I was thrown clear.’ The woman ran her fingers gently over the back of her skull, tracing the outline of a bump the size of a golf ball. The swelling was tender. She spied another crop of leeches behind her legs and the discovery distracted her. She forgot about the bump and went after them.
‘The noise of the choppers overhead woke me up. I must have been unconscious, or asleep, or in shock — whatever. When I saw those soldiers, I just couldn’t believe it. I was thrilled.’
Joe knew exactly how she’d felt.
‘And then I saw them shoot a couple of people and I just ran into the jungle. I thought I was it, the last survivor.’
‘In the tunnel… how did you know I wasn’t one of them?’ Joe asked, gesturing back behind him with a flick of his head.
‘I didn’t. You surprised me.’
Joe nodded. When the woman had broken through into the tunnel, he’d thought the worst too. ‘So, what’s your name?’
‘Why do you want to know?’ she asked.
‘Um…’ Joe was confused by her reluctance.
‘Sorry. I’m just a bit… you know. I don’t know what’s going on. Why are we being shot at?’
‘Don’t ask me,’ said Joe. ‘I just keep thinking I’ll wake up, that I’m having a nightmare — too much MSG in the food or something.’
‘Why kill us? What possible reason… those poor people, shot in cold blood.’
Joe heard the woman take a deep breath.
‘Well, my name’s Joe. Joe Light.’ He offered his hand.
She took it, forcing a smile. ‘Suryei Hujan.’
Shaking her hand felt weird and reassuring at the same time. Introductions were gestures that belonged in the real world, like the pub or the office. But the contact felt good, like it was possible for things to return to normal.
‘Pretty name. Mean anything?’ he asked.
‘Sun and rain, a yin and yang thing. My parents are romantics,’ she said, checking around the tunnel walls.
Joe didn’t know where to go from there. The small talk evaporated.
Suryei had kept the flame on her lighter burning during this conversation. But now the flame had heated the lighter to a point where the metal was too hot to handle. She let out a quiet gasp. The light flicked off and she stuck her finger in her mouth to relieve the burning sensation. They were instantly swallowed by a blackness that swam with after-images of the flickering light. Night had fallen.
‘Better not waste this,’ she said, pocketing the Bic. ‘We should get moving. The soldiers…’ The sense of shared safety they’d felt huddled together in the friendly glow of the lighter was extinguished with the flame, and the atmosphere between them became strained and awkward.
‘What do you do, Joe, when you’re not dodging bullets?’ asked Suryei quietly after they’d crawled some way in silence.
‘Computer software. Games, mostly.’
‘Great,’ said Suryei, half under her breath. ‘That’ll come in handy here.’
Joe had never felt like apologising for his occupation before. Back in Sydney, it was mostly a pretty cool thing to do for a living.
Joe could hear Suryei breathing in the murk. He called up his last image of her before the lighter was extinguished. It was hard to tell exactly what she looked like with all the mud and gore that covered her face. With a name like Suryei Hujan, she had to be Asian.
‘Got some water here,’ he said, trying to be friendly. Despite the hot, close air, the ambience was frosty.
‘Thanks,’ she said, a little of the edge gone from her tone. ‘You’ve got a rucksack. What’s in it?’
He felt around inside it. ‘Some bottles of water, a couple of trays of aeroplane food, and a sort of axe.’ He rummaged through the contents again quickly. Something was missing. ‘Had a pair of binoculars… must have left them somewhere.’
‘More than I’ve got,’ she said. ‘The lighter. That’s it.’
‘Do you smoke?’
‘Did. Ran out.’
Joe held out a bottle to her ghostly outline. She took it. He heard her open it and drink.
She handed him the empty. ‘Put this back in your bag. We don’t want to leave those bastards any signposts.’
‘Sure… Hey, what was that thing that came down the tunnel?’ Joe was not keen on meeting another of the animals in the darkness.
‘A babirusa.’
‘Strange looking thing.’