The Beach

∨ The Beach ∧

103

But Nothing

The stabbing continued, but it no longer hurt. The faces continued whirling, but the face I knew remained constant. I could talk to it calmly, and it could talk back.

‘Daffy,’ I said. ‘This is fucked.’

‘Yeah, GI.’ He smiled. ‘Beaucoup bad shit.’

‘Fragged by my own side.’

‘Happens all the time.’

A blade punctured my top lip. ‘It doesn’t mean anything, right?’

‘Doesn’t mean much.’

‘Never should have been here. That’s all.’ I sighed as my legs collapsed and I fell down to the palm-leaf carpet. ‘Jesus, this is a nasty way to die. At least it’s ending.’

‘Ending?’ Daffy shook his head. ‘It can’t end now.’

‘Can’t?’

‘Come on, Rich. Think. Think how it ought to end.’

‘Ought to…’

‘A flat roof, a panicking crowd, not enough room on the…’

‘…Last chopper out.’

‘That’s the boy.’

‘Evacuation.’

‘Every time.’

♦

Daffy was gone. The knives had stopped. One of the cutters had started twisting, fumbling at her belly, and another was toppling sideways, flailing out with his arms.

I looked around and saw Jed standing beside me. And beside him, Keaty, Étienne and Françoise. The four of them carried fishing spears, points fanning outwards. On the ground, Bugs sat with his arms crossed, fresh blood spilling into his lap. Moshe leant against one of the bamboo posts, sucking air through clenched teeth, clutching his ribs.

‘You all keep back!’ Jed yelled. He reached down, lifted my arm over his shoulders, and dragged me up. ‘Keep lack!’

Bugs slumped forwards. ‘But,’ said Sal. ‘But…’ She took a step in our direction, and Jed pushed his spear deep into the folds of her shirt. Immediately he pulled it back. Sal remained standing, swaying as the point exited.

‘Back!’ Jed yelled again. ‘All of you keep back!’

And amazingly, they all did. Though we were outnumbered and they could have easily prevented us if they’d wanted to, they let us go. I don’t think it was because of Sal, who had closed her eyes and couldn’t seem to catch her breath. It was because they were tired. Their slack arms and glazed eyes told me as much. Tired of everything. Beaucoup bad shit, too beaucoup.