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CHAPTER FIVE

JEREMIAH

I agreedto go exploring the island for two reasons.

The first, so that afterwards Tully would allow me to get some work done in peace.

And the second was—given the size of the island, the lack of infrastructure, and the repetitive and somewhat destroyed vegetation—I figured it would take all of twenty minutes.

We began down the beach. It was rugged and mostly untouched. I’d hazard a guess that Tully and I were the only people to have set foot on the island in some time. It was small, barely two square kilometres, and sitting out in the Arafura Sea at the mercy of the elements. The island itself was mostly flat, and I could safely assume there was no elevation three metres above sea level. The vegetation, the shrubs and grasses were gnarled and ragged.

“Do you think the shrubs are this damaged from the cyclone?” I asked. “Or is this just how they look?”

Tully chuckled. “I wondered the same thing. This eastern side was protected, somewhat, but I’d say this whole island cops it from all directions on the regular. My dad and his team use weather reports from here for their shipping routes.” He made a face. “Well, they did. Before the cyclone. When I mentioned coming out here, he knew what I was talking about.”

All the more reason to finish exploring and make some attempt at sourcing the problem.

I didn’t say that. I just kept walking. I mean, how often would we ever get an entire island to ourselves?

“It appeared that old weather radar was still attached to the roof,” I offered. “So I’d say there’s just an internal miscommunication somewhere. Hopefully an easy fix. Not that I’m a technician by any stretch—”

Tully grabbed my arm. “Stop.”

He was looking a few metres ahead, where the sand met the grass and shrubs. But his urgency had me on alert. “What is it?”

“See that?” He nodded ahead. “That track?”

It was a wide track of flattened sand with an odd divot, as if someone had dragged a zigzag with a stick right through the centre.

“I thought we were the only ones here,” I said.

“We are.” He took a few steps to get a closer look. “The only humans, anyway.”

I looked at the track again, then shot him a panicked stare. “What made that? Tully, what animal made that track?”

He grinned. He actually grinned. “That’s a croc. Big one too, by the looks of it.”

A croc.

A freaking crocodile.

I took his arm in a death grip and dragged him backwards. “Get away from it, my god, Tully.”

He was like an excited child. “No, look at how awesome it is! You can see where the tail—”

“No. No, immediately no. No, thank you.” I looked at the scrub, then at the water, suddenly feeling very exposed. “We’re going back to the building area that is fully fenced. Actually, now that I think about it, that fence wasn’t built to keep people out, was it? It’s to keep the crocodiles out. Good lord. Why wasn’t that ever mentioned?”

He resisted my tugging him along until he relented with a laugh. “There’s no crocs there now. They probably just come here to rest or lay eggs. So realistically, you’re more likely to be surprised by one walking this close to the water’s edge.”

I may have screamed and jumped a good metre away from the water.

He snorted. “You just need a long stick. Kinda poke at ’em if you have to.” Then he shrugged. “But honestly, if they’re determined to get ya...”

I turned on my heel and walked back to the safety of the fenced yard. “I have work to do.”

“Ah, babe, I was just kidding!”

“We need to have a serious conversation about your sense of humour.”

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