The Beach

∨ The Beach ∧

81

Fuckin’ A

Bugs and Keaty left just after five thirty. Sal gave me my instructions at a quarter to six.

I liked being up while everyone else was asleep. I almost always was, since I’d started working up on the island, but usually there were a few signs of stirring: a spot of movement in one of the tents or someone padding their way across the clearing to the Khyber Pass. That morning the camp was as still and quiet and cool as it could ever be. It made everything more exciting. While I talked with Sal and Jed outside the hospital tent, I was so keyed up for the day ahead that I had to keep hopping from one foot to the other. I could tell it was pissing Sal off but I couldn’t stop myself. If I hadn’t channelled my energy somewhere I’d have started shouting or running around in little circles.

Sal and Jed were arguing. They both agreed that I should head into the DMZ and track Zeph and Sammy’s progress across the island. The disagreement was over the interception point. Sal said not until they reached the top of the waterfall, putting some faith in the obstacle course. Jed said earlier, as early as possible, although he seemed reluctant to explain why. Personally, I was siding with Sal, although I kept my mouth shut.

Interception point aside, they both agreed on what to do next. I was to tell the rafters that they weren’t welcome and that they should leave at once. That failing, I was to keep them from descending the waterfall. Any way I saw fit to delay them was acceptable, in Sal’s words. If necessary I would stay up there with them, missing Tet. It could be explained to the rest of the beach later. Nothing was more important than making sure they didn’t arrive at camp until Christo was dead. After that, we would work out whether to let them down or keep them out.

By the way Sal was talking, I was sure she had a fall-back plan that she wasn’t telling us. I knew the way her head worked and she wasn’t the type to say, ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’ Especially with something so important. The thing I particularly didn’t understand was the idea of turning Zeph and Sammy’s group back. If we got to the point where I was forced to intercept them, turning them back seemed as problematic as letting them stay. You could as good as guarantee they would talk about what they’d found back on Ko Pha-Ngan or Ko Samui, and we’d have lost our secret status.

If it had been anyone else but Sal, I’d have pointed this out, but with her I didn’t feel it was worth bothering. I felt sure that if I’d been able to think of it, she would have too. I don’t think I remember her asking my opinion about anything, unless it was to lead me into something by making it seem like my idea. Come to think of it, I don’t remember her asking anyone’s opinion. Not even Bugs’.

If it needs saying, the argument about the interception point was eventually won by Sal. A big surprise. I honestly don’t know why Jed even tried.

♦

Mister Duck was waiting for me at the pass. He was dressed in full combat fatigues with an M16 over his shoulder and his face all painted up with green and black camouflage stripes.

‘What’s with the gun?’ I said when I saw him.

‘Just making sure I fit the bill,’ he replied flatly.

‘Does it work?’

‘Works for me.’

‘Guess that’s a yes…’ I walked past him so I could see down the pass to the DMZ. ‘So how you feeling? Nervous?’

‘I feel good. I feel ready.’

‘Ready for the recon?’

‘Well…’ He smiled. ‘Just ready, that’s all.’

‘Just ready,’ I muttered. I always felt suspicious of his lopsided grin. ‘Daffy, there’d better not be something going on here that I don’t know about.’

‘Mmm.’

‘Mmm what?’

‘Mmm let’s get going.’

‘I’m serious. Don’t start any of your shit. Not today.’

‘Time is ticking, Rich. We’ve got an RV to keep.’

I hesitated, then nodded. ‘OK…If you’re all set.’

‘All set.’

‘Then let’s do it.’

‘Fuckin’ A.’