Eliza drew closer until she could hear what he was saying.
‘. . . even if just one person stays overnight in each hut, you never know when they might stumble into —’ He looked up. His eyes were alert. ‘Miss Ellis,’ he said.
The others around the table looked her way. She caught glimpses of curiosity and pity on their faces. She could imagine what they were thinking. This is the teacher who was there when the girls went missing. She’s the whole reason we’re in this mess. Who does she think she is, coming here?
You’re being paranoid, she chided herself, gripping her permission slip tighter.
‘You’ve come to help with the search,’ said Darren matter-of-factly.
‘I want to join a team,’ she said.
A woman in SES overalls picked at her nails and an important-looking man in police uniform turned to Darren. ‘I know exactly where we could take Miss Ellis to —’
‘Let me go for a walk with Miss Ellis,’ said Darren quickly, giving the others a warm smile. ‘Make sure we get someone stationed in all the remaining mountain huts, and give each of them a satellite phone.’
He stepped out from behind the table before they could argue and grabbed Eliza’s elbow, steering her towards a makeshift café that was serving espresso coffee, the barista lining the takeaway cups up on the table. A group of farmers mingled there, dressed in Akubras and hi-vis, filling the air with strained and overloud laughter.
‘The barista only makes cappuccinos, I’m afraid,’ said Darren, passing one of the cups into Eliza’s hands. ‘I prefer a flat white, myself.’ Eliza noticed the plain wedding ring on his finger, the dirt under his nails. ‘Drink. Get warm. It’ll be cold up there. Unless it’s not – who knows with the Tiers.’
Eliza let the cup warm her hands, as Darren gestured towards a door that led out to the hall’s enclosed yard.
‘Thank you for coming. Thanks to you, I’ll have an excuse to get up there and join the search myself.’
‘Can’t you just assign yourself to a team?’ said Eliza. ‘I thought you were in charge?’
He laughed. ‘Apparently I’m more useful down here, even if it’s just so people can see me gesturing at maps.’ His eyes pinned hers. ‘If I’m being honest, I was hoping you’d arrive. You’re the most valuable asset we have, Miss Ellis. I want to go exactly where they found you and search there.’ He looked her up and down and nodded, approving her attire. ‘They told me you were an experienced hiker. Are you ready now?’
‘You want to go to the Lake Nameless trail.’
‘The others in your group have helped us locate where they found you, but I’d like to see what you make of it. Does that sound like a plan, Miss Ellis?’
She fingered her headscarf, the memory of the queasy ache still fresh. ‘You can call me Eliza.’
He inclined his head. ‘Miss Ellis.’ Wannabe searchers glanced their way, calling out, but Darren ignored them. ‘I hope you don’t mind, we’ll take my Yamaha. I’ll just find you a helmet, and I’ll grab some hiking packs from the SES and a few others to help us.’
They stepped out of the community centre, into sunshine and light wind.
Eliza and Darren walked up the steep muddy hiking trail. In the low branches of an alpine cider gum was a Bassian thrush, its flute-like song trilling around them. Eliza shivered. These birds only came out at twilight or, like now, when it was so overcast it felt like twilight. It seemed a bad omen.
She had been grateful when they parked their bike a little earlier, when the trail became too steep – the bumpy ride had made her queasy and dizzy, but she couldn’t let the concussion stop her from what she had to do. Three other motorbikes had already been parked there, with two SES volunteers and a farmer now trailing behind her and Darren. Each of those three was looking in a different direction: ahead, left or right.
‘I had no idea there were so many dirtbike trails through the bush here,’ said Eliza. ‘You got us here so quickly . . .’
‘Don’t thank me yet,’ said Darren. ‘It’s still a bit of a walk to the Lake Nameless trail.’
The clouds broke overhead, sun bursting down over them like a wave. The Bassian thrush’s song ended in a high-pitched ‘seet’, but other birds took up the call. Sudden insects buzzed around her, tiny flies with metallic blue bodies.
‘We’ll have to cross a waterfall up ahead,’ commented Darren, brushing at the flies.
Listening now, Eliza heard the rushing up ahead. Her heart lifted: waterfalls in this area were beautiful. ‘Lucky my boots are waterproof,’ she said. Silence built between them, until she said, ‘So you’re a constable, right?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Can I ask: how did you become search controller?’
‘You mean as a lowly constable?’ said Darren, chuckling. ‘Generally you want someone practical, knowledgeable . . . feet firmly on the ground, if you know what I mean. Characters like that are usually happy to stay where they are, even if they’ve been a constable for longer than their sergeant has been in the force. Not that that’s the situation in my case,’ he said, tapping his thumb to his chest wryly. ‘I’m just lucky enough to be a local. Grew up on a farm in Meander – my parents still own it. I’ve hiked these mountains many, many times. I know this place better than probably any other copper in Tasmania. That’s the reason they put me in charge of the search. It’s not my first search-and-rescue in the Tiers.’
‘You’ll find the girls, then,’ said Eliza.
Darren was silent as he walked, boots swishing in the muddy gravel of the track. By the time he spoke again, the rushing of the waterfall had grown so loud it almost masked his words: ‘The Tiers don’t like to let go of things, Miss Ellis . . . but we’ll do our best.’
They arrived at a shallow tributary, falling down a jagged dolomite rockface into a deeper stream below. They had approached the falls from the top, and Eliza saw the thick galvanised wire across the span, designed to be held as they crossed. ‘I’ve been here before,’ she said with surprise.
‘Could be,’ said Darren. ‘But there are many like this all over the Tiers, and they all look similar. Although in winter, the streams sometimes change their paths completely . . .’
One of the SES workers – a woman with grey hair – overtook him and walked right to the edge of the falls, peering down. Despite herself, Eliza stepped up onto a slippery rock beside her. The water below was amber brown and rolling with foam and waves, beautiful in the sunlight, treacherous among jutting rocks.
‘Could they be down there?’ she found herself asking the woman, nausea rolling through her belly at the thought.
‘Possibly,’ said the SES volunteer with a heavy sigh. ‘Should we have some divers come check?’ she shouted to Darren above the sound of the falls.
Darren’s feet were steady as he looked down into the base of the waterfall, even as the water rushed over his hiking boots. ‘We can’t search every pool we pass,’ he said, ‘but . . . maybe we can try this one.’
Eliza listened as he called it in, following Darren as he walked to the other side. He was matter-of-fact, detailing the co-ordinates of the waterfall, the route there, his request for divers.