Calypso's Mast

Chapter 24 - The Trek

Pitcher awoke in the morning and found she was by herself. Banning was gone.

She immediately had a panic attack at the realisation that she was alone. It was dark, damp and uncomfortable in the bunker. She had Banning's now button-less shirt and her towel skirt for a bed and her bag for a pillow. Her pink bikini was dirty and torn in a couple of places. Her neck and back ached and her right hip and shoulder were sore from lying on her side on the hard floor with very little padding.

Trembling, she fumbled around for the torch, found it and switched it on in the semi-darkness. Banning's bow and knives were gone and so was his pack.

"No, No, No! This is not happening to me."

She jumped to her feet and made her way to the doorway to look outside. Everything was quiet.

"Oh my God. What do I do now?" she whispered.

Everything was quiet. Even the insects and birds were silent.  Why had he gone and left her? Was she by herself? Was he gone for good? Maybe he had had enough of her after she had hit him with the wood. A knot of fear gripped her.She summoned all her breath and screamed at the top of her voice out toward the beach,

"Mitchell!"

"Damn it, Sonya. I'm just here for God's sake." Banning's voice came from behind her.

She swung around and he was there, sitting on his pack, just above the entrance to the bunker.

"Oh Mitchell, I thought you had gone."

"If you keep yelling like that, even the animals will take off," he said.

She scrambled up beside him and flung her arms around him and hugged him. "I am so glad you are still here. I thought I was all alone and you had gone."

"Well," he said, "We do have to go soon, but no, I'm still here, headache and everything."

"Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry. I just didn't know. I thought maybe you were one of them. I don't know who to trust any more."

She looked up at the top of his head at the mat of dried blood in his hair and gingerly touched it.

"No," he said. "I'm one of the good guys. But you may be able to help me with something."

She stopped and stepped back.

"Sure. What is it?"

"Have you got any idea why I can't phone for a helicopter to come and pick us up?" he asked as he produced the satellite phone. "I've been trying to get it to go, but it won't even turn on."

"Oh....." there was a long silence.

"Is there something else I need to know or am I doing it wrong?" he asked.

"No," she said quietly. "You're doing it right."

"Ok. So if I'm doing it right, then how come it won't go?"

"Because.... I was so mad when I found it that ..." her voice went very small,"... I ... dropped it into the drinking water."

His eyes bored into her for a long moment. Then he sighed, looked wistfully at the phone, toying with it and then finally, in a deft flick, he tossed it over his shoulder into the bush. At that, he stood up and stretched his legs.

"Right then," he said simply. "There's no helicopter coming. I guess we had better start walking."

"Mitchell, I'm sorry," she entreated. "It all happened really quickly, and I was angry and confused and I didn't know who you were and I was scared because I thought..."