‘You stay out of this boy. You’ve got no idea who you’re dealing with.’
‘Warren, let her go!’ Matt pleaded. ‘There really is nothing in the jar.’
But it was too late. With a pounce that caught Matt off-guard, Hemi threw himself towards Warren in an attempt to remove his gun. He didn’t make it. The shot rang out around the gully. In the few seconds of silence that followed, Matt watched, sickened, as Drew collapsed to the ground like a giant tree being felled. In Warren’s grip, Aimee too was breathing very heavily, her chest heaving with emotion. Warren practically held her up now. She looked up at him with pleading eyes. Fear of being next, Matt guessed. Warren had clearly lost control. The gun turned on Matt. Mere seconds from the first shot had passed when the second shot rang out. Matt felt it simultaneously with the sound.
CHAPTER 50
Friday, August 19, 1527
We have found the straits again. The same as those we came through shortly before the beaching at Whareakeake. This time we have been able to enter the harbour here, on the northern land-mass. So, it seems that Hine is correct about us living on an island. It remains to be confirmed that the northern land-mass is also an island. If it is, where is the third island? Our island, the southerly one, is approximately 225 leagues long, north to south, and has a breadth of about 70 leagues. The coastlines on either side follow a consistent north-east to south-west line, so it appears the island has a fairly regular breadth throughout.
Before we entered the straits, one of the men created a disturbance through violence towards his fellow crew. We knew not a reason for his outburst. Possibly he has gone mad. The master at arms made preparations to put him in shackles but the man threw himself overboard. The last we saw of him, he was madly swimming toward the nearby coast of the southern land mass. I don’t expect he will last long, as there was fairly quickly a canoe heading in his direction. We had neither desire nor possibility to make chase.
We have been anchored in the harbour since yesterday. The men have used the time productively to collect shellfish and catch some of the other tasty fish we have come to know so well. Some gulls and other birds are also to be had here. We are near a river, which is filling our barrels with clean fresh water. We have to press on though. The natives have seen us and aren’t at all welcoming like the gentle souls in Whareakeake. Rather, a group of men came down to the water’s edge and waved their clubs at the ship and started dancing a Haka, the war dance of the Waitaha. We will sail on the tide, which will turn in an hour. Hopefully they won’t attack before that time. We will sail out of the straits and travel north on the eastern coast, since we have previously seen that of the west.
CHAPTER 51
Matt stood on the spot for what seemed an eternity. Why would Warren do this? Why isn’t it more painful? Surely a bullet ripping through your body hurts more than this.
He stared at Warren in shock.
Warren returned his stare with the same look of horror and confusion. Then, as Aimee broke free from his weakening grasp, Warren slumped to the ground clutching at his chest. The ground didn’t catch him. The weight and direction of his fall tipped him over the edge of the cliff. He fell to the rocks below with a muted thump. Matt continued to stare in disbelief at the void that remained where Warren had stood.
Aimee was on her feet, looking over the cliff edge. Hemi lay in a bloody heap on the ground. Sirens wailed as cars bumped down the road towards the beach.
Matt walked over to the cliff, completely oblivious now to his fear. He looked down and saw Warren’s body among the rocks below. His blood spilled into the sea. His head was badly messed up with blood, and his chest was drenched in the stuff. If the shot to the heart hadn’t killed him, the fall would have. Matt felt the tingly sensation of bile rising to his throat moments before he threw up.
The next thing he knew, Aimee was at his side.
‘Are you OK, Matt?’ Aimee asked, her voice calm and assuring.
‘They’re dead.’ Matt said, his voice crossing the border of hysteria. ‘How can I be OK? What the hell just happened?’
‘Warren shot Drew.’
‘I know that!’ Matt exclaimed. ‘But who shot Warren?’
The sirens stopped wailing as the police car and two black 4WDs arrived at the small car park. Beyond the hill above them, a helicopter was approaching. Aimee pulled at something in her pocket and showed it to Matt.
‘I imagine that it was one of our agents,’ Aimee said, as Matt stared at her DCI identity card in stunned silence.
The world was spinning. Voices were muffled and noises blurred together in a muddled mess. Hemi felt like he had been on a drinking binge. He shot me, Hemi thought. Warren, that bastard shot me. Twice. Hemi had counted the shots. He felt sleep coming, but fear told him to stay awake. You sleep, you die. He felt the warmth of the sun on his face. He felt the warmth of the bullet. Hemi had to live. He had to tell Matt what he knew. Matt didn’t know who he was dealing with. That is, of course, if Matt lived through the day.
Hemi tried to hear what was being said around him but couldn’t make out any words. He couldn’t even tell whose voice belonged to whom. There was just that muffled drone. He concentrated on his pain. Why did he only feel the one wound? Did Warren shoot him twice in the same spot or did the second bullet miss? He knew he felt the first one as it ripped into his chest near the shoulder. ‘Drew?’ Hemi’s father said to him. ‘Drew?’
That was it. Hemi knew he was dead. It felt terrible. He punched his thoughts to his father, because he couldn’t speak. I’m sorry Dad. I couldn’t get justice for you. I failed you.
His head thumped. At first it was a gentle thump, but in the minutes that followed the thump got louder and harder. The sleep came on stronger now. The thumping was so present he could feel it on the outside of his body. The world around him trembled and the warmth of the sun disappeared from his face. He started to feel cold. The wind had picked up considerably. Hemi lay listening to the thumping, the only thing he could hear now. His father’s voice was gone. He was alone, again. Thump, thump, thump. He tried to open his eyes, but the sleep came instead.
CHAPTER 52
They came up the path in a steady flow. There was a mixture of uniformed police and men in coveralls that had NISO printed in large writing on them. Leading the pack was the hard, unsmiling and familiar Colin Wolfe, whom Matt had met at Warren’s dig site. He nodded at Aimee and offered Matt his hand, as two of the NISO team ran to look over Hemi and another two set up abseiling gear to climb down to Warren. Matt didn’t know who the enemy was any more, so he took Wolfe’s hand and shook it.
‘Hello again, Dr. Cameron. Are you alright?’
‘I guess I am.’ Matt said, half-heartedly. ‘But I’d love to know what’s going on.’
‘And you, Aimee?’ Wolfe continued, practically shouting now, to be heard over the noise of the rescue helicopter that thumped the air above them.
‘I’m fine Hank, thanks.’ Aimee shouted through a smile.
Matt watched the exchange with interest and distrust. How can he have been so blind and stupid as to let Aimee come along with him? He didn’t know her, and now she turned out to be working for the DCI, the very people who had tried to hinder their research. First Warren, now her… how could he trust again?
‘OK, Dr. Cameron,’ Wolfe said, turning to Matt. ‘Let’s go with Agent Peters from the NISO for a chat. He can debrief you on the case.’
Matt followed Wolfe a few paces away to a group of men that stood around the body of Hemi, guiding his stretcher upwards towards the helicopter which winched him up. Wolfe put a hand on the shoulder of one of the men. The handsomely featured Maori turned and smiled reassuringly as the helicopter veered and thumped away over the hillside, the two bodies now both on board.