It was low, and she hated herself for saying it, but it had the desired effect. Darren hesitated, emotions in conflict on his face.
‘What could we possibly hope to find up there?’ The lines in his face were hard. ‘You’re putting me in a difficult position.’
‘Who knows what we might find,’ said Eliza. ‘Clues, maybe? Evidence. Answers.’
Darren watched her, suspicion plain on his face. ‘Alright. Let’s go.’
As they stepped off the track and walked towards the ridge, Eliza heard Tom’s voice in her head. Leaving a trail in the Great Western Tiers is an exercise in suicide. Do not attempt it. He’d given the whole camping group that speech before they left school.
But surely it wouldn’t be so bad. This area was a little more open than most, and they had that grove of white gums to orient themselves by.
But she should’ve known it wouldn’t be so easy. What looked like low shrubs from the rise of the trail were in fact bushes that reached up to her shoulders, even over her head in some places. Underneath them, the ground was craggy and uneven and full of inexplicable swampy patches.
‘Let’s stop here a moment,’ said Darren after ten minutes. Even though it was fairly flat land, it was tough hiking. They were among copperleaf snowberry, a plant that was found only in Tasmania. It had dark green, serrated leaves and clusters of little white flowers shaped like urns. It was starkly beautiful, smelling wild and free, flowering and perfect out here in the wild.
‘Close your eyes and turn around three times,’ said Darren.
‘What?’ said Eliza.
‘I want to show you something.’
Eliza closed her eyes and turned, then opened them when she heard the crash of Darren through the shrub. She leaped back, the sharp leaves drawing a thin line of blood from the back of her hands.
Darren was standing behind her now. ‘What are you doing?’ she said.
‘I want you to point back to the trail. I moved so you wouldn’t have a reference point. Point back to where we came from.’
Eliza pointed.
Darren shook his head. ‘Wrong. Try again.’
Eliza hesitated, then pointed forty-five degrees from her first attempt.
‘Wrong again. Now you’re dead. Lost in the wilderness. And we’re what: ten minutes from the trail?
‘Do you know where we are?’
‘Yes.’ He lifted his sleeve to show a waterproof compass strapped to his wrist by a paracord bracelet. ‘Because I know I can’t rely on my own sense of direction, not out here.’
‘But do you still know the direction to the ridge?’ said Eliza.
‘I’m trying to help you understand. Setting out, just the two of us, is stupid. Thinking that there might be something up there on the ridge, after all this time, and the weather we’ve had, is stupid. Searching out here, when we should be back where we know the girls have been, is stupid.’
‘Why agree to come, if I’m such a stupid little girl?’
‘Because, Miss Ellis, you aren’t a little girl and you aren’t stupid. Either you know something you’re not telling me or you’re driven by some emotion that’s overriding your better judgement. I’d like to know which one it is.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Darren pushed his sleeve down over the compass. ‘Well, we’re not moving until you tell me.’
‘You can’t do that.’
‘I want to find these girls more than you could possibly know,’ said Darren. ‘Until I find out what you’re hiding, we’re not going back to the trail.’
‘Darren . . . listen to me. Just get me to that ridge.’
‘Are you even listening to me?’
‘Fine.’ She pushed past him. ‘I’ll head there myself.’ She ignored the sting of the leaves and the drone of insects.
The copperleaf snowberry abruptly gave way to a small stretch of blueberry flaxlily, offering far better visibility of the ridge. She stomped through it, watching the sandstone ridge and its white gum directly ahead.
She could hear Darren walking behind her. She heard his low chuckle, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. ‘You know what’s really interesting, Miss Ellis?’
She ignored him, eyes on the ridge.
‘A second ago you had no idea which direction you were facing.’
‘You’re not the only one who knows how to read a compass, constable.’ She continued to stomp through the scrub covering the ground.
‘I’ll get to the bottom of it eventually, Miss Ellis,’ he said. ‘Whatever it is. I always do.’
You won’t have to wait that long, she thought to herself, Madison’s face appearing in her mind. Con would probably be waiting for her, back in town.
Darren’s words returned to her mind: You’re driven by some emotion that’s overriding your better judgement. There was an uncomfortable truth to that.
She thought of the permission slip in her pocket:
I give permission for Eliza Ellis to be strong.
Signed, E. Ellis.
The sandstone ridge was steep and surprisingly craggy, bluff snowgrass covering it like a cramped garden. Up here, on the edge of the ridge-fin, Eliza was especially exposed to the biting cold wind that drowned out all noise: Darren’s footsteps behind her, even her own breath. Nothing but the mountain wind.
Eliza stopped, closing her eyes, as the noise blew past her like a train, wrapping her in isolation. Fresh and clear and free. For a moment.
She opened her eyes and wiped away the tears. Up ahead was the giant white gum. Beyond it stretched a heart-stopping view of misty tiers of hills and sombre mountains, thick wilderness.
She walked to the gum and touched it with her hand; it was cold. She looked over it, she studied the ground, pushed back blades of bluff snowgrass to check the soil. She was looking for footprints, scuff marks, scraps of clothing, anything.
There was nothing. No clue to indicate who might have stood here, who had hit her on the head, whose footsteps she’d heard. Just like Darren had said: nothing to see at all.
But she had found it. Darren could direct other searchers to cover this area. She wasn’t entirely useless.
‘Miss Ellis,’ said Darren.
She shook him off. ‘Cierra!’ she shouted into the wind. ‘Bree! Jasmine!’ The wind blew her words back in her face. ‘Cierra! Bree! Jasmine! Cierra, where are you?’
‘Miss Ellis, look at the clouds. We need to be getting back —’
‘Cierra! CIERRA!’ she shrieked.
The wind didn’t care. The mountain didn’t care.
Her knees weakened, but still she held onto the tree and screamed. ‘BREE! JASMINE! CIERRA!!’
Where are the girls? Where are the girls? Denni, why couldn’t I save you?
Now she fell fully to her knees. The sun grew dim behind a shroud of thick cloud and she saw the rainclouds rolling in. The first thick droplet hit her cheek.
She couldn’t scream anymore, couldn’t say their names. She wrapped her arms around her knees and, for a moment, completely whited out.
Darren took his raincoat out of his pack and she felt him wrap it around her, his arms warm. Shame and guilt and pain rushed through her, making her feel small and friendless, adrift in a sea of wilderness.