The trip of a lifetime could be murder…

When Dante’s best friend Asmir offers to pay for them both to take a bus trip around New Zealand, he leaps at the opportunity. He needs to get away from it all for a while; the recent loss of his uncle, the end of his relationship, even his uni course.

But as they set off on their scenic adventure, Dante and Asmir quickly realise that their trip might not be quite as relaxing as they had first thought. The bus is full, the trip long and the mix of different personalities could be deadly. When events take a sinister turn, Dante and Asmir begin to wonder if they’ll make it back home…alive.

Do not miss the new book from the author of The Seventeen

Also available by Joel Arcanjo

The Seventeen

The Number 8

Joel Arcanjo

Copyright

HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015

Copyright © Joel Arcanjo 2015

Joel Arcanjo asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9781474035538

Version date: 2018-09-20

JOEL ARCANJO

was born in London, raised in Portugal until the age of five and then moved to Devon. At eleven, whilst on a rugby scholarship to a South African boarding school, he was an eye-witness to a violent armed robbery. He has been an avid reader of anything crime-related ever since. Whilst attending boarding school in West Sussex he particularly enjoyed sport, drama and creative writing. Since his gap year working at a school in Adelaide, Australia, he has been studying Criminology with Applied Psychology at the University of Aberystwyth. He wrote his first book in the summer of his second year at University. Graduating shortly, he hopes to pursue a career in crime writing.

For my fellow passengers on the Funky Chicken Kiwi Experience Bus Tour Jan, 2011.

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Book List

Title Page

Copyright

Author Bio

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Endpages

About the Publisher

Prologue

The barrister stood on the steps of the Old Bailey, London’s most famous court, ready to address the nation. He was nervous. He hadn’t spoken in front of this many people outside of a courtroom. In there, it was his domain. He was used to murder trials. He was confident, charismatic and incredibly calm. Out here, in front of the nation’s media, it was a different story.

His tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth and water didn’t help. A bead of sweat threatened to fall down his already shiny forehead, but he wiped it away without anyone noticing. He had been stood in front of the microphones for two minutes already, but he hadn’t spoken. The man next to him, a PR specialist, was tasked with introducing him. He listened to the man’s words. The barrister had an impressive list of accomplishments.

He was up. He took a step forward and took a deep breath.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press. I stand here proud. Proud to tell you that a judge and a jury of your peers have found my clients ‘not guilty’. ”

He paused for applause and he was right to, the applause was deafening. People cheered and whistled. It went on for about a minute before he raised his arm for silence.

“This verdict is not only important for my clients, but it’s important for our country. We will not stand for…” But that was all he got out because somewhere in the crowd somebody was ready to have their sixty seconds of fame.

“Judas! You should be ashamed of yourself for defending murderers every day of your life. You know they did it!”

The PR man intervened. “Security. Remove that individual!”

For a split second the lawyer felt the familiar pang of guilt. But, as he had done for years, he quickly nipped it in the bud. Guilty or not, a win was a win and this time he had won big. This was the platform his career would be built on. He was already successful by most people’s standards but this case would propel him to the next level and he was ready for it.

Pandemonium broke out. Cameras whirred. Security dragged the individual away kicking and screaming incomprehensible words. But there was one sentence he could make out and for the first time in all his years as a lawyer, he was scared.

“Bastard. You’ve taken everything from me. I won’t stop until I’ve taken everything from you!”

Chapter 1

“Oh, will you just relax!” Asmir Nankin shouted at his friend as they sat at a bar in Auckland, New Zealand.

Dante Darion was slumped in a corner frowning and feeling sorry for himself.

“We’re here now, stop being a baby,” Asmir continued.

Dante dragged himself into an upright position and feigned a smile.

“Better?” he said sarcastically.

“It happened. You know you messed up, you can do better next year,” Asmir said and threw his hand up in the air. This caught the waitresses’ eye and she strode over to him smiling.

“We’ll have another bottle of Dom Pérignon. My friend here needs a bit of a pick-me-up,” he said gesturing towards Dante. “Here’s a little something for you too.”

He made a point of taking out a large roll of crisp bills and counting out two hundred New Zealand dollars very slowly before handing it over to the wide-eyed waitress. He had been doing this kind of thing to each of the female waitresses all evening.

“Thank you…so much,” she stuttered as she placed the obscenely large tip into her back pocket.

Dante rolled his eyes, “Really?! That’s the third tip you’ve given out. One of the girls wasn’t even serving us!”

“But she was beautiful though. Right?” Asmir grinned.

“You do realize that you just gave her one hundred pounds?”

Asmir flapped the air in front of his face. “So what? We’re on holiday. I can splash out a little bit.”

“A little bit would be getting a couple of extra sides or an extra bottle of wine, not tipping every girl that smiles at you.”

“You say potato and I say tomato.”

“That’s so wrong, I can’t even…”

Asmir interrupted him mid-sentence. “I’m making it my mission to get you out of this funk this holiday. So you bombed this year at Uni, there’s always next year. You broke up with your girlfriend. There’s plenty more fish in the sea. Plus, she was awful, D. You know I never liked her.”

Dante sank into his chair. “I liked her though…”

“She wasn’t good for you, man. As for the bad grades, I know that’s not what you’re used to, but it happened. You either get over it or let it drag you down.”

“The second option,” Dante said, sinking even lower in his chair.

“I get why you are so broken up about your Uncle, man. The guy was awesome, but the other two things? They’re minor.”

Dante’s Uncle had died over the summer while everything else had been happening. It had been three months and he still felt a tightness in his throat whenever he thought about it. Asmir saw this and quickly intervened.

“No, this is not happening. I’m not letting you sulk this whole holiday. Where’s that girl with my champagne?” Asmir swiveled from left to right trying to catch a glimpse of her in the crowd.

“You know, you should probably wait for someone to bring you your order before you tip them. It gives them incentive to do a good job. That girl is probably telling her friends right now about this young, rich, Indian guy who tipped her two hundred dollars right now.”

“You think I look Indian?”

“You definitely don’t look Russian. You could pass for Iranian, but I would still say Indian.”

“Yeah. Well I know I don’t look Russian. Now Dad looks Russian and Mum looks like she’s from the Middle East, but how can that create an Indian-looking guy?”

Dante raised his hands as if to say “Don’t ask me.”

He took another beat and then said, “Hey.” But Asmir was preoccupied with his search for the missing waitress.

“Hey!” he said a little louder.

This time Asmir heard him.

“I just wanted to say thanks for this trip.”

“Don’t thank me yet, mate.”

“I know, I know, but I really appreciate this. I couldn’t afford this trip on my own…”

“Stop, D. I’ve got it, I understand.”

Dante nodded and left it at that. Asmir hated to talk about money, but he loved flashing it. His family was incredibly wealthy. His father was a partner at a well-renowned legal firm and his mother was from Iranian oil money. Asmir had paid for this trip out of his own pocket and despite his current mood, Dante was grateful.

“I bet you a new girl comes out with the champagne,” Dante said glancing around the bar.

“Why?”

“If she’s smart she’s gone to tell her friends there’s a big tipper and he’s waiting for his bottle. New girl comes out with the Dom and gets the same tip.”

“Pff, yeah right.”

Sure enough, two minutes later a new girl came to the table with Asmir’s champagne and a look that told Dante that she knew all about “the money at table four”.

Asmir reluctantly tipped her the same as her friend and looked at Dante who was wearing an “I told you so” smile.

“And that, my friend, is why you tip afterwards.”

Chapter 2

“Here it is!” Asmir yelled as a large, white and green bus pulled into the Auckland bus station. On the front someone had painted a large number eight.

“Not so loud,” Dante winced. He was wearing sunglasses to protect his eyes from the blazing sun. It was early morning, but the sun was already fierce. They had both drunk way too much the previous night but the difference was, Asmir was used to it, Dante was not. He was feeling the full effects of his bad decisions this morning.

Dante groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose where it met his forehead, hoping it would halt the endless throbbing. It didn’t.

“Help me with this, would you?” Asmir puffed as he dragged one of his two massive suitcases towards the trunk.

“Why would you bring two suitcases and a carry-on? I’m pretty sure they expressly said you could only have one,” Dante groaned as he forced himself upright.

“They did,” Asmir admitted.

“And?”

“I didn’t listen.”

“You’re gonna try and pay someone off aren’t you?”

“It’s sorted, mate. You know me,” Asmir laughed.

The bus driver came out to give them a hand.

“Hey, I’m Asmir. Are you with us for the trip?” he said shaking the guy’s hand.

“No, just dropping the bus off. Someone else will be along in a little while. You guys are pretty early,” the driver said, a little surprised.

Dante didn’t say anything. Instead he pointed an accusatory finger at his best friend.

“I didn’t want to miss this trip. We both need this. And I figure that if we’re early now, we have some leeway later when we’re late.”

“Because you will be late.”

“Yup,” he said almost boasting.

“Jump on, guys. It’s a while before you leave so you have some time to get some snacks or take a nap before the rest arrive.”

They thanked him for his help and climbed the stairs to see their home for the next three weeks. Inside it was a lot roomier than it looked from the outside. The chairs were red and thankfully not leather. In this heat, sitting on leather would’ve been unpleasant to say the least. Instead it was a high wool content moquette fabric and it was soft.

Dante crumpled into a corner seat right at the back. Asmir had decided to try every seat to determine which was the most comfortable.

“I can deal with this,” Dante said as he tried to find a comfortable position.

Asmir didn’t speak until he had tried every seat and was sat in the seat next to Dante.

“It’s between that one, that one and that one,” he said pointing to three chairs further forward.

“You’re gonna end up sitting in the seat right next to me and you know it, save yourself some time.”

Asmir shrugged. He knew Dante was right so he got comfortable.

But minutes later, the other passengers began to board. As he always did, Asmir threw himself into the crowd and began to get everyone talking.

“D, get in here,” he said beckoning Dante over.

Reluctantly Dante unwound himself from his comfortable corner and slowly made it towards the group who were congregating on the seats near the front.

“Marco, this is Dante. Dante, Marco,” Asmir smiled as he moved aside to reveal a small, pale, bespectacled guy that looked like he was having a nervous breakdown just being in this group.

“Hey, how you doing?” Dante asked politely.

“Good, thank you. You?” he replied, his voice deeper than Dante had imagined.

They chatted politely for a little while. Mainly small talk, nothing too personal or deep. Marco was also from the UK. He was in his third year at Cambridge University studying Physics and he was only twenty. A real wunderkind. It seemed Marco hadn’t come with anyone, his reason for the trip was purely academic. He wanted to see and experience New Zealand, the sights, the culture and on top of that, he was a huge Lord of the Rings fan.

Asmir walked over to him, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a smaller guy. Small, but quite menacing looking. Tattoos all down his right arm and an eyelid piercing. He had minute, beady eyes that were fixed on Dante. A shaved head with the pattern of a triangle shaved into the left hand side, but it was poorly done. It ended up looking like more of a circle. On top of that he had a thick untamed mat of facial hair like someone you would cross the street through heavy traffic to avoid.

“Dante, this is Viktor. He’s from near us,” Asmir explained.

“Oh yeah. Where?” Dante asked.

His voice came through a lot higher than expected for such a big guy. Dante had to hold back a laugh. “Favingham, just moved there recently.”

Asmir looked at him meaningfully as if to say, “I know, right?” Instead, he said, “Isn’t that weird, D? He’s from right down the road!”

“Yeah, bit of a hole, right?” he chuckled turning towards another guy.

“Right,” boomed a voice through the crowd. A large figure brushed Marco aside and joined their circle. He was colossal but Dante was more focused on the fact that he looked like Viktor if Viktor was stretched about twelve inches. He was about 6’5, same horrendous hairstyle and matching eye piercing. His arms were much bigger, like the thickest part of a python. He seemed older, but by how much, Dante had no idea. He was basically Viktor’s sidekick and for whatever reason, James also known as “Diesel”, was fine with that.

By this point, almost everyone had arrived. The last two on the bus were the most interesting to Dante. He didn’t need Asmir to introduce him to these two.

“You know I’ve got a hat just like that, but it looks a hell of a lot better on you. I’m Dante by the way,” he said in an attempt to break the ice.

They both laughed. “Oh really?” the dark-haired one said. “It’s good to meet you, Dante. I’m Annie and this is my friend Becki.”

Her friend was shorter than her with long, blonde hair. She had a crooked smile and her nose crinkled when she laughed. But Annie was more his type. Fairly tall, chestnut brown hair that just touched her shoulders. She had a kind smile and a sort of innocence which for some reason he found endearing. Both were naturally tanned because they had been there for two weeks already and the weather had been kind to them.

“So you guys are from England?”

“Yeah, just outside London actually. But I don’t want to think about home right now. Work was getting crazy before we came here. We’re here to cut lose for a few weeks,” Annie said sliding her bag under her seat.

“You mean Uni?” Dante asked.

“No, we own our own fashion line. We had a gap in our schedule so we left our CFO in charge. You at Uni then?”

“Yeah, Canwell. But that’s not as impressive as owning my own fashion line. How old are you guys?” Before he’d even finished the sentence he knew he’d made a faux pas. His Mum had always told him to never ask a woman her age. If she wants you to know, she’ll volunteer it.

Mortified he quickly tried to repair the damage. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…”

But Becki interrupted him. “Relax, Dante. I’m nineteen and she’s twenty-one.” She had a husky, gravelly voice like she’d been smoking for twenty years. He liked it.

But before Dante could say another word a stumpy, hazel-haired woman popped up at the front and coughed into the loudspeaker.

“Hey guys. My name is Mel Brown and I will be your guide for the duration of your trip.” A cheer went up. She smiled and blushed a little. “Welcome to the Pleasant Pheasant, everyone. I will do my best to make your trip with us three weeks of awesome.” There were a few giggles. She was obviously nervous and her Kiwi accent made the phrase sound even funnier.

“It will be a few hours until we get to our next destination so make yourself comfortable and enjoy the ride.”

Someone from the back shouted out, “Where are we going first?”

She smiled grudgingly as if to say, “You should have read the program,” but she had to be on this bus with a mob of youngsters for the next few weeks. She had to make a good impression or the rest of the trip would be torture for her. She simply replied, “Hot Water Beach.”

Dante shuffled sideways back to his seat and squeezed past Asmir to the safety of his corner.

“Az, what the hell is a ‘Pleasant Pheasant’?”

Chapter 3

“Oh, so you’re a convict then, are ya?” This line and the commotion that came after it was what threw Dante out of his peaceful sleep.

“Shut your face, Viktor!” screamed a guy who he hadn’t met yet. He had dirty blond hair and a slightly darker beard. Dante could tell by his accent that he was Australian.

“What’s Carl saying?” Viktor mocked, turning towards James for a reaction. James obliged him.

“Something about shrimps and barbecues, I reckon,” James chuckled.

“Ignorant idiots!” Carl flew at Viktor and landed a couple of blows to the side of his head before anybody could intervene. James then threw out a huge tattooed arm and grabbed Carl tightly by the shoulder.

“I don’t like hurting people, but I will hurt you if you make another move,” he said menacingly, his eyes fixed on Carl.

Dante could see Carl weighing up his options and realizing pretty quickly that James had size and reach on him so he backed down, still glaring at Viktor who was grinning smugly from behind James’ gigantic left shoulder.

Mel had seen this and decided to stamp this kind of behavior out early. She called them both up to the front and spoke quietly enough that she wouldn’t be embarrassing them, but sternly enough to ensure it never happened again. Dante only heard one sentence of the lecture, but one sentence was enough in this circumstance.

“If this happens again, pack your bags, your tour’s over. Understood?”

They both nodded.

An eventful morning, Dante thought to himself.

Dante looked out the window and was hit by the bright sunlight. He raised his hand to block it as best he could. It was obvious they were coming close to the coast. Seagulls circled above and the salty scent of the ocean drifted in through the open window. Dante loved the ocean. He had lived there for years in his childhood. His cousins had been close by. Every day after school they would head over to the dunes just around the headland and roll down them, run down them, whatever they felt like on the day. He remembered how he had just sat there, after they had all gone home and stared at the sea. Rain or shine, he cherished that moment. But he could safely assume that he wouldn’t get that kind of time to himself for a while. Especially with Asmir around.

He turned to Asmir, “Hey. Thanks again man for getting me to come on this trip. I needed this.”

Asmir beamed at him and slapped him on his back. “We’re gonna have a good time. I’ll make sure of that.”

Dante laughed. If there was one thing that Asmir was good at, it was ensuring he had a good time. He couldn’t finish an assignment on time but he could take you on the night of your life.

Mel stood up at the front as he knew she would and announced, “Wipe your eyes and stretch those thighs, we’re here!”

There was a collective cheer which ended up more like a collective groan. Half the bus had been asleep and had not taken kindly to Mel on the loudspeaker.

This was it then. The start of the trip of a lifetime. It would be unforgettable.

Chapter 4

“Do you need help down there, mate?” came a voice from behind him.

“Erm… No… No thanks, I’m fine,” Dante mumbled as he tried to get himself together.

They were at Hot Water Beach and Dante had been the last to disembark. In his haste to catch up with the rest of the group he had rushed down the stairs, tripped and fallen flat on his face. He felt the sand beneath him, hot on his skin from a full day of sun. He must’ve been on the ground a second or two before instinct kicked in and he thrust himself to his feet with ease. As he brushed the sand off his face and clothes he turned towards the kind soul that had offered his help. It was the bus driver.

“Kid. Watch your step next time. Lucky it was only me that was here to see that. I’ve seen the same happen to other kids and they were legends for the rest of the trip,” then, just to rub it in he added, “in a bad kinda way.”

His physique was not what Dante had come to expect of bus drivers. Muscular, but not tall. He was sat on the edge of his seat facing the doorway so Dante couldn’t be sure but his height must’ve been around 5’10. His salt and pepper hair was neat and combed to the right. He was clean shaven and seemed fairly upbeat. He must have been in his late forties and he had something about him that drew Dante in.

“Thanks for the warning, Mr…” Dante said, walking back towards the driver.

“Mr nothing. Call me Ben.”

“OK, Ben. How long have you been driving these tour buses then?”

“A few years now. Mostly this route. It never gets old.”

“So I guess you aren’t from here originally?”

“No, lived in England for most of my life but…I much prefer it here.”

Dante was sure he heard his voice crack a little but didn’t push it any further.

“Where do you live now then?” Dante asked.

“Here and there. Most of the year I’m driving these tours so I don’t really get a chance to settle down.”

“Did your family move out here with you?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” He smiled, then quickly changed the subject. “I wouldn’t miss out on the beach if I were you. Some pretty amazing views down there and after your little…accident,” he smirked, “you need a swim to clean yourself up.”

Then, before Dante had a chance to respond, he used a lever by his foot to close the doors.

Rude, Dante thought.

Dante got the hint and made his way down the sandy path. He had a strange feeling about this driver. He wasn’t your average bus driver and he clearly hadn’t taken this job to make any friends. But then again, Dante had gotten a little personal pretty quickly. If someone had asked him certain questions he would be taken aback. He wasn’t in the habit of telling strangers his personal business.

Everyone has secrets, Dante, he thought.

But Dante was here to do, not to think, so he wandered off.

Chapter 5

He felt the sun caressing his skin as he edged along the path. New Zealand had had a warm winter and Dante was lucky enough to be there for the start of spring. A magical time of year. But while the days may be warm, the nights would not. About halfway down to the beach, it got too sandy for his shoes to be effective, so he took them off and carried them under his arm. The sand was a comfortable temperature but he had to skip the first few steps so his feet could adjust. He could abide dry sand but loathed it wet. It had no business getting into the cracks and crevices it found its way into.

He rounded the last corner and was met with a view that he had been hoping for since he left England. People playing volleyball, others swimming and catching the waves. Asmir was with a group who were relaxing in what looked like holes in the sand that they had dug with spades. The sea, the sand, the sun. It was perfect. He hoped there would be more of this to come.

Asmir was lying on his back with his shades on in a hole that was way too small for him.

“Typical. Look at everyone else’s hole. Deep and long enough to fit them in comfortably. Look at yours, shallow and half your size. You may as well be sitting on the sand.”

Asmir cooly pushed his shades down his rather large nose and said, “Wanna come in?”

Dante sighed and grabbed a spade that someone no longer needed and began to dig his hole. Deeper and longer than anyone else’s. It took him a while but it was worth it. He sank into the deep pool of warm water and exhaled loudly.

“Amazing isn’t it?” Annie asked from just over his left shoulder.

Dante was so relaxed that he couldn’t even verbalize a reply. He just paired a grunt with a thumbs-up gesture.

He only had a few minutes to himself before Asmir got sick of pretending that his hole was adequate and rolled into his. A wrestling match ensued that dragged in a crowd. They exaggerated pro wrestling moves that they had seen on TV and got roars of laughter from an adoring public. Annie and Becki even picked sides. Annie had backed him, Becki had gone for Asmir.

“Dante, you’ve got this!” Annie cheered from the side.

“I think I backed the wrong guy,” Becki jeered, trying to get a reaction from Asmir. And she did. He stepped up his game.

After a few minutes they got tired and lay back in the pool that was about as big as a hot tub and let the sun hit their faces. The crowd dispersed and neither of them spoke for a while. They were still getting used to the fact that a few days before they had been in rainy England and life, at least for him, had sucked.

Then out of the blue, Asmir spoke. “I told you you would like it here. It’s exactly what you need.”

It was.

A few minutes later Mel walked up and announced that they could take surfing lessons for a small fee and that they would be starting soon. He was too relaxed to even contemplate surfing at this point. He loved to surf and was very competent but the waves weren’t brilliant and he had other plans for his money on this trip. But he didn’t try to explain that to Asmir because he knew he would offer to pay for it, so he just told him that he was too relaxed and was a little jet-lagged. A white lie.

He managed to motivate himself sufficiently to make a sand pillow so that he could watch the people who were taking part and, more importantly, watch Asmir make a fool of himself.

He watched as one instructor took the beginners and another took the advanced group. Of course Asmir went with the advanced. He had never surfed a day in his life and while his instructor was getting their equipment ready he was keeping an eye on the beginners group. It was smart really. Get the basics without the long arduous talk that comes with it. It would become evident to the instructor within the first couple of waves that he had no idea what he was doing. But the chances of him being sent back in when he was already that far out were not high, so it was a risk worth taking.

“He’s never been before, has he?” Becki asked pointing out past the breakers at Asmir.

“Of course not. I mean…look at that,” Dante chuckled as he watched Asmir paddle furiously but once again miss the wave.

Annie dropped into his pool and made herself a sand pillow to match Dante’s before adding, “His timing’s all wrong. He waits until the last second before paddling. That works in some places, but not on a break like this.”

This made Dante look over at her in admiration.

“You surf?” he asked.

“A little bit, here and there,” she grinned without looking back at him. He knew what this meant. What she was really saying was, “Yes, I surf and I’m probably a hell of a lot better than you.”

“Favorite place to surf?” Dante asked.

“Hawaii, for sure. But I know Becki loves…” She paused, waiting for her friend to end the sentence.

“Fiji, no doubt,” Becki added.

This sent each into their own daydream about their perfect wave. The feel of the water underneath them as they paddled their hearts out not knowing whether it would be for nought, the moment they knew they were dropping in, the feeling of being perfectly balanced as they shifted their weight from side to side and the invincibility. That was what dragged Dante back each time. The feeling that nothing, not even Poseidon himself, could stop him from riding this wave until it’s last ripple.

“Oi, snap out of it, we’re leaving.” Asmir was standing over him dripping water on his face.

“What happened? Where is everyone?” Dante said, wiping his eyes.

“Over there, let’s go,” Asmir said and began walking towards the path.

“Did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, mate, look at your hands, you look like an old man!” He laughed as he picked up the pace.

Dante glanced at his hands and Asmir was right. He’d fallen asleep in the warm water and his hands were evidence. All wrinkled and pale.

They rounded the corner and Dante saw the rest of the passengers climbing aboard the bus, then spotted that Asmir was heading in a different direction.

“Az, where you going?”

“Cut my leg. Mel’s taking me to the local hospital to get it sewn up.”

“Let’s see.”

Asmir turned and raised his leg, “It’s just a graze. She’s being dramatic. I think it’s her first tour. She’s being extra careful.”

It wasn’t just a graze, but it wasn’t severe either.

“Are you there for the night?”

“Hell no. I’ll be back at the hostel tonight, save some food for me!”

With that he turned and hobbled over to a waiting taxi and was gone.

“Oi, kid, let’s go!” Ben was leaning out the door glaring at him.

“Coming!

Chapter 6

Dante knew that he would never hear the end of this. Asmir was playing it down now, but later on he would retell the tale of how he cut his leg so deep he could see bone. Probably because of a shark attack or razor-sharp coral that fought back. Asmir liked to exaggerate a little at times. It wasn’t that he didn’t live an exciting life, because he did, he just didn’t mind embellishing a detail here and there.

The group were sat in the bus waiting for somebody to make a decision.

“Hey! Hey! Driver, are we just going to sit here?” Viktor shouted from his seat halfway down the bus.

Ben sat completely still at the front. He was texting someone.

“Oi! Do you hear me?” Viktor shouted again.

Ben winced a little this time. He clenched his jaw tight but made no other movement.

“Is this guy deaf?” Viktor asked the whole bus. People were wide-eyed with horror at his behavior. But only Dante spoke.

“Sit down, Viktor, stop showing off.”

Viktor turned towards him slow, like a villain in a Marvel movie about to make a powerful speech. Ben peered over his shoulder and saw this scene unfolding. He placed his phone carefully on the dashboard and stood up.

“Both of you sit down, we’re leaving.” His voice was calm but stern.

They did as they were told. Ben kept his eyes on Viktor for a few extra seconds. This had the desired effect. Viktor turned away and gazed out of the window. It was an alpha male thing. The one who turns away first loses.

Mel had obviously texted Ben and told him to make sure the passengers got safely to the hostel. The hostel was only a short drive inland from Hot Water Beach.

They were there within minutes. The screech of the microphone got everyone on the bus sitting bolt upright. Dante’s heart was pounding hard in his chest, he’d been rocked to sleep by the gentle hum of the bus. Being jerked awake wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Ben’s voice came over the speakers assertive and unapologetic. “Right, you lot, get off my bus. Inside you’ll find a lovely lady called Fiona that will let you know what rooms you’re staying in. I know you’re all lazy Uni students who don’t get up before one at the earliest, but tomorrow’s an early start. We leave here at 8:00am. Got it?” There was a collective groan from everyone, but not from Dante. He wasn’t here to sleep. He was here to do and you couldn’t do with your head on a pillow.

Ben continued, “In the morning you will walk through the beautiful Karangahake Scenic Reserve, we’ll stop for lunch and then those of you who want to go black water rafting will go in the afternoon.” This time there was a tired cheer from the bus. black water rafting. Dante had looked it up because he hadn’t ever heard of it. He’d only heard of White Water Rafting, its well-known cousin. His research informed him that it was basically exploring underground caves, but with the added benefit of being chest deep in water so dark that no light could penetrate. The rafting part actually meant sitting in a rubber ring. It sounded dangerous and completely out of his comfort zone, which meant he had to do it.

Ben wasn’t done yet. “If you don’t want to do that, then the alternative is to take the tour of Waitomo glowworm caves, of course, if you don’t want to do either…well, why are you even here?”

There was a low chorus of chuckles. Unlike the others, Dante had done a little research and knew what the glowworm caves looked like. They were breathtaking sculptures that Mother Nature had gifted the residents of Waitomo and the thousands of tourists who came through every year. They also had the added benefit of being inundated with millions of little worms that covered every crevice and made the caves glow even in the pitch black. But what they didn’t know was that it wasn’t really a choice between black water rafting or the glowworm caves because the caves that the rafters explored were also filled with these incredible creatures. So the choice was easy for him.

They piled off the bus wearily and waited patiently as Ben opened the baggage hatch. All the guys sprang forward to help Ben get them off. It wasn’t purely a selfless gesture, at least not on Dante’s part. It was because the quicker the baggage was off, the quicker he got to his room. It took the guys no more than two minutes to get every item on the floor in front of the hostel. The girls grabbed their bags and shot inside. The entire process was completed in about seven minutes. Dante was the last inside and he was greeted by a hoard of his fellow passengers attempting to sort their accommodation. He guessed he would have to stay in a room of about six because he was going to be last to the front. He was wrong. Ten minutes later he finally got to the counter.

“Hey Fiona, I’m…” but she interrupted him.

“You must be Dante Darion or Asmir Nankin, right?” she smiled.

“Err…yeah, I’m Dante.”

“Great! Here’s your room. You two have a twin,” she said happily, probably because he was the last person.

“Umm…OK. How did we manage to get that?” he asked, a little confused.

“Mr. Nankin booked it a week ago. In fact, he had booked a twin in every hostel on your route, except one place where sharing is not possible.”

“A week ago? That’s not possible, I only said yes to this trip about three days ago.”

She handed him the keys and said, “Well he must have been very confident you would say yes. The room’s just down the hall. Last one on the left.”

He thanked her and rolled his suitcase down the bright red hallway. He was a little puzzled.

Asmir wasn’t that good at reading him, was he?

He waved to the other passengers who had their doors open and they waved back. He got to his room, fumbled with the keys and then slowly opened the door. He flicked the light on and stood in the doorway for a moment. It was a nice room, much nicer than you would expect from a hostel this cheap.

The room, just like the corridor, had bright red walls. The ceiling was white as was the carpet. Not really a good idea when your main clientele are young people only staying one night. The T.V. was small and old fashioned, but he didn’t expect to be watching any of that on this trip. The windows were large and he was sure there was a spectacular view out there, but right now it was so dark that the only thing that could be seen were the few blades of grass directly outside that were being lit up by his room.

He quickly checked the bathroom. It was simple: white tile, shower, sink and toilet. He was a little disappointed there was no bath. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was partial to a bath now and then. Not because of its relaxing properties but because it always reminded him of home. He couldn’t explain why, it just did. The beds were side by side and a little too close for his liking. If Asmir had been there right now, he would have moved them straight away, but he wasn’t there yet, so he didn’t bother. Then, on the bed that he had decided he would take, he saw a small envelope which had fallen off the pillow. He picked it up and sat down to read.

Inside, in Asmir’s writing, it said, “I know what you’re thinking and yes, I really do know you that well.”

Chapter 7

Dante was in no mood to fraternize that night. Neither was anyone else it seemed. There was barely any noise in the hall for the rest of that evening. A few doors squeaked open, the sound of low whispers and the odd pitter-patter of footsteps on the floor above, but nothing that disturbed him. And still no sign of Asmir.

Dante spent about ten minutes in the shower with the heat turned up high. The heat because he was cold, the length of time because sand had gotten everywhere. But once he had located and removed every troublesome grain, he got out, dried himself off and let out a long sigh. He was glad that he had the room to himself, even if it was only for one night. He threw on some boxers and leaped into the bed. The mattress softly cushioned his fall. He got under the covers and turned off the bedside lamp.

He lay there expecting to fall asleep within minutes. But it turned out he couldn’t turn off his brain. It was whirring at lightning speed. His home, his ex-girlfriend, his Uni course. All the things that he wasn’t happy with in his life. The things he wished he could change. He almost felt like a bit of a coward running away to New Zealand to escape his problems. It wasn’t really his style. But if the last few months had taught him anything it was that he wasn’t sure what his style really was. But he did know that he wasn’t this. He wasn’t someone that lay awake thinking about his problems and feeling sorry for himself. The more he thought about home the more guilty he felt about leaving his Mum to deal with everything alone. He had rushed off to deal with his own demons and hadn’t even thought about how his Mum may be feeling. She had been his rock the last few months. More accurately, they had been each other’s rock. Their house was the safety zone. He could go to her in the knowledge that there was no judgement being passed. He had bawled all night the night he had found out about his Uncle and she was there. He had been shitty to Asmir and she was there, telling him to forgive, to let it go. When his relationship fell apart she was there, being a mother, a father and a friend.

One solitary tear rolled down his face as he lay there. It rolled down his cheek and then curved towards his jaw. It held there for a second before falling to the pillow. That was it. The last tear of the trip. Dante was sure his Mum appreciated the time to grieve alone but everyone needs someone and he had to be her someone. A phrase that his Mum had always said kept replaying over and over in his mind. Each time he heard it it sounded more and more like her. Her calm soothing tone and her over-emphasis of the word “you”. “Just me and you, Dante, me and you against the world.” That was all he could think about until he drifted off into a deep sleep.

Asmir was lying in a hospital bed, waiting to be released. His gash had been a little worse than originally thought. Ten stitches the doctor had said. But there had been complications. As he had been about to leave, the stitches had begun to come loose. Once they were repaired, the doctor had urged him to stay overnight to ensure there wasn’t a repeat.

“You’re joking, right?” Asmir asked.

“Mr. Nankin, as I said, I think you should remain with us overnight. I am led to believe that you are on a tour of both islands. If you leave us and your stitches come out again, you will have to come back to us which would ruin your trip.”

“Yes, we understand, doctor. He will stay overnight,” Mel said without even glancing over at Asmir, who was giving her the stink eye.

The doctor bowed like a martial artist about to go into battle and left them standing in the hallway.

“So instead of staying in a comfortable hostel with an all-you-can-eat breakfast in the morning, we’re staying…here,” Asmir whinged and gesticulated to the harshly lit hall they were standing in that smelled like a mixture of disinfectant and freshly filled bedpans.

“Just for tonight. Now come on. Back to your room.”

Mel placed a palm in the middle of his back and led him towards the lumpy bed that he had been so glad to get out of earlier.

He perched on the side and gently swung his injured leg on first before lifting the other one and covering himself with the thin white sheet that would offer no protection from the cold whatsoever.

He lay back and hoped sleep would come easily. It did for Mel who was curled up on a nearby sofa with a blanket, but sadly not for him.

His mind drifted to Dante and the difficult summer he’d been having. Asmir would never admit it, but Dante was his Yin. Yang needed a Yin. Complete opposites but ultimately dependent on each other. He knew who he was. He was the guy that liked to party, to have fun and create memories. Dante was the sensible one. Reliable and determined. Together they made up for each other’s flaws. Like most best friends they would rather take a Mike Tyson right hook to the eye socket before admitting they needed each other, but it was a fact. In reality, he needed this trip too. His University grades had not been good either. He wasn’t too concerned with that, but his Dad was. His Dad was a Russian lawyer from a line of lawyers. It was expected. His Dad had always clung to the hope that Asmir would follow in his footsteps. He held that misguided vision until a couple of months ago when Asmir’s grades came through. Asmir hadn’t heard anything from his Dad about “the proud Nankin name” since, which in some ways pleased him. His Dad was off his case and he could do what he wanted. But he also hated seeing the disappointment in his Dad’s eyes as he read the grades. Asmir actually thought he saw the moment that his Dad’s dream for him died. It was right around the second sentence of Asmir’s grade report.

Asmir knew what he wanted. He hadn’t even told Dante. In fact, he hadn’t even verbalized it. He was scared to say it out loud because that would make it real. His Dad would never back him and he wasn’t even sure if his Mum would, but he knew Dante would. Dante was all about chasing your dreams. Creating plans and going for it.

Blah Blah Blah.

Easy for him to say. His Mum wasn’t nearly as tightly wound. Asmir’s parents expected excellence and there were only two things he was excellent at. The first was drinking ridiculous amounts and retaining his sober reflexes. This was only useful when you arrived home with two bottles of vodka in you and could still socialize with your parents’ guests. The second was more useful and was unquestionably his passion: photography.

It had not been a lifelong passion. He had stumbled upon it by chance. In University, he had gone around all the societies trying them out for himself, one by one. He had enjoyed a few but only repeatedly frequented two, the poker society and the photography society. Poker because he liked to hone his deception skills there. Most people in that society didn’t like him very much because he talked continuously. To make it worse, he was actually quite good so he ended up winning a few of the games. He wasn’t typically competitive, but poker brought it out in him. Every time he lost, even if it was one hand, he’d bite his tongue and only unclench when he won the next one. Then, of course, he would start talking again.

The photography society had happened by accident. He had heard through the grapevine that they were going to be taking photographs of a nude model. There would be a male and a female posing. So naturally, he turned up. He wasn’t the only one with the same idea. It seemed like half the male population of the University had turned up too. Most were turned away but he managed to get in by feigning knowledge. He had mentioned something about shutter speed and macro photography which he had luckily picked up from a show on cameras that his Dad had been watching while Asmir had been making breakfast. He didn’t even know if he was using the terms correctly but it got him in, so either he got lucky or the guy on the door had no idea either and was here for exactly the same reason he was.

That day had surprised him. Initially, he had marveled at the girl’s body but then his mind began to change what he was seeing. He wasn’t just seeing her curves. He was seeing her elegance and the patterns that her body was creating. He was seeing how the bright lights accentuated the features on her face and how the shadows hid her extremities perfectly. How taking a picture from different angles entirely changed the meaning of the picture. From the front she looked powerful and warrior-like. But from the back she looked vulnerable and possessed a strange mystical beauty.

The next week his picture was chosen to be displayed in the society’s studio. Throughout the semester, that society had been his retreat. A place to express himself. He had learned the true meanings of shutter speed and what macro photography was and much more. He truly loved it and it showed in his work.

As he lay there in his hospital bed it dawned on him that loving photography really made a lot of sense. He loved to create memories. Memories are just moments captured and framed by the mind for a purpose. A photograph is really just a paused moment. Something had happened right before and right after, but that moment will forever be immortalized in that picture. It meant enough to the person taking it that they chose to capture it forever. It made perfect sense that he loved photography.

But he didn’t wish to capture this moment, because he had no intention to remember it. He wished for morning but the only thing that would grant that wish, sleep. eluded him. Instead he tried a technique Dante had taught him. He closed his eyes again and listened to the clock on the wall.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Chapter 8

It was 7:00am and Dante was wide awake. He had had a sleepless night. But his body must have wanted him up at 6:40am badly, because he woke up coughing and spluttering. By chance it was just in time for sunrise which he took in from the comfort and warmth of his bed: the red, yellow and orange coalescing to form a breathtaking pink color that made him sit up in his bed. The sun was low on the horizon but large like something he would expect to see on the African Plains.

By 7:00am he was showered and changed. He had thrown on some dark blue swimming shorts and a black V-neck T-shirt with a black and white graphic of the Eiffel Tower on the front. He loved Paris. It was his favorite city in the world. In general Dante took a while over his appearance. He combed his painfully straight hair to one side. He liked to keep the sides short but left it longer on top. He shaved every other day even though his facial hair grew through in patches, unlike Asmir who could grow a fairly substantial beard in just a few days. He had thick eyebrows which got him compliments but were a nightmare to deal with, like two caterpillars that lived above his eyes with minds of their own. He was proud of his teeth as it had taken him three years of braces and two more years of wearing a retainer to get them the way they were. He wasn’t entirely unhappy with his appearance. Although, after the last few weeks, he wasn’t exactly looking his best. He was a few pounds heavier than he wished to be. A few months previously he had been in the best shape of his life, athletically and psychologically. At the moment, not so much.

He packed up all his things and left the room looking presentable. He rolled his suitcase along the corridor as quietly as possible but one wheel refused to co-operate and squeaked all the way back down the blood-red corridor. No noise came from any of the rooms. He was sure no one was awake. There was no way in hell the bus would leave at 8:00am. It was the first day of the tour. It would be a miracle if everyone was up and out by 9:00am. But he was and he liked his privacy in the mornings. He wasn’t exactly a morning person. But he liked people who were because they could energize him and get him into a good frame of mind for the day. The receptionist, Fiona, was one of these people.

“Good morning Mr. Darion, how did you sleep?”

Dante gave her a tired smile and replied, “Mr. Darion? I am a couple of years away from that. But I slept very well, thank you. How are you this morning?”

“Excellent,” she beamed. “Did you see the wonderful sunrise?”

“I’ve never seen colors like that. It’s like something you see on a postcard.”

She chuckled. “Too true. Are you going to see the caves today?”

“Yeah, but I am going to do the black water rafting. Both have glowworms in so I figured that I may as well try that.”

She tilted her head to one side and gave Dante a once-over. “Most people don’t know that when they come here. You have family from around here?”

“No, I just like to know the whole story, so I research a place first. You can get more out of a place if you know its secrets.”

“Very true. So what do you think about your fellow passengers?”

“I don’t yet. I haven’t even spoken to everybody yet. But most seem nice. Here to drink a lot, I think.”

She straightened her head. “And you’re not?”

“Probably. But not just that. This trip is about a lot of things but being hungover is not one. What is the point in flying halfway round the world to do the same thing you could do at your local bar?”

“True, but here you can do it with a view.”

They both laughed.

It turned out Fiona was the daughter of the hostel’s owner. They stood and talked for a little while longer. She had been on the same tour and knew all of the best things to do. She told him that the Maori night in Rotorua was a once in a lifetime experience and urged him to go on the glacier tour in Franz-Joseph. She also said that Queenstown was the greatest city in the world, but he took her words with a pinch of salt because she also liked Auckland and he was not a fan. After a few more minutes she told him that Asmir had booked them breakfast and walked him to the table in person. As expected, no one else was there at this time, but he was beginning to hear rumblings from inside rooms and the creaking of doors. The reception desk was visible from the table so he invited Fiona to sit and continue their conversation. He found her interesting and well educated on matters involving New Zealand or Australia but shockingly ignorant about any current international issues. After a few minutes the phone started to ring and she excused herself.

He sat there eating his pancakes and bacon. Not his usual diet but he needed to pack himself full of calories for what Fiona had described as “a pretty tough day”. In the next thirty minutes people began to filter out of their rooms. Those who hadn’t booked breakfast were either in the kitchen next to the reception making some or out on the front lawn eating something they had already picked up. By 8:00am only half the bus were out of their rooms. This led to Ben charging angrily down the corridors shouting through the loudspeaker for everybody to get up. But that was only after uttering an obscene amount of cuss words, some of which Dante was sure he had made up on the spot. But by 8:30am everyone was on the bus. Not all were ready, some barely looked human, but at least they were on and the day could begin.

Chapter 9

“What’s your deal?” avoice asked from the seat in front.

“Excuse me?” Dante said.

Annie popped up and knelt on the seat. She kept snatching a look towards Ben who would tell her to sit down if he saw.

“Oh, hey,” Dante said, realizing that his tone had been a little confrontational.

“What’s your deal?” she asked again.

“I didn’t even know people outside the USA asked questions like that,” Dante smirked.

“You know what I mean.”

He did. “An ambitious Uni student who’s had a pretty crappy couple of months. That just about sums me up right now. Ask me again at the end of this trip.”

“I will,” she said, sneaking another look at Ben.

“What’s your story?” Dante fired back.

This made her visibly uncomfortable but Dante pretended he didn’t see. She was about to reply to his question when Ben shouted, “We’re here! Everybody off!”

She shrugged and sat back down.

As the bus pulled in to the Karangahake Scenic Reserve car park it became apparent they weren’t the only group there. Four other buses were lined up neatly next to each other in the spots closest to the reserve’s entrance. It was only 9:00am. If it was this busy now he dreaded to think what it would be like at lunch time. All four buses were smaller than theirs. Different colors and sizes but most with a common clientele: young people on tours similar to theirs. The smallest of the buses held a very different group. The bus was a dirty shade of blue and had the words “NZ YMCA” printed in capitals on the side. But it was not young people that disembarked. It was a jovial group of elderly women dressed in sportswear. Comfortable running shoes, tracksuit pants and jacket with the letters “RPEC” printed on them. They began to warm up out of view as the Pleasant Pheasant passengers wearily evacuated the warmth of their coach. Barely anyone had noticed these spritely ladies lunging and jogging on the spot just outside. Dante felt a strange mixture of admiration, self-loathing and crippling fear that at any moment one of these ancient women would keel over and die right there next to their stolen YMCA bus.

Just behind the athletic grannies was a beaten-up blue Toyota Corolla with mud splashed all over the sides. Both wheels were caked in it but it was dry now. Dante would be surprised if it drove cleanly. There were two passengers. A man and a woman. Asmir and Mel.

Asmir swung the passenger door open and carefully maneuvered himself out. He didn’t look entirely comfortable. He moved mechanically and massaged his lower back with the ball of his palm. He turned slowly and Dante caught his eye. He forced a pained smile. He hobbled over and greeted the other members of the bus fondly. Viktor gave him a firm pat on the back as he passed. Asmir winced in agony and swore at Viktor in Russian. Viktor barely reacted and just shot a twisted grin back at him.

“What happened to you? I thought it was only your leg?” Dante said, confused.

“It was!” Asmir shouted. “They messed up the stitches and made me stay in overnight. Then, they decided to make me stay in a bed that I am 95% sure was made of stone.”

“So you have a stiff back?”

“Stiff back…stiff back?!” he shouted again. “This feels like someone took a sledgehammer to my back while I slept.”

“At least you got some rest though, right?” Dante said, trying to get him out of a ranting mood. But he would not be stopped.

“Oh no, no, no, no… A good rest would have been ten hours sleep. Eight even. But that crazy woman got me up at 5:00am to be here by 8:30,” he said pointing at Mel, who saw this and blushed a little.

“But you…”

Asmir interrupted, “Wait, I’m not done. After getting lost for two hours on our way here she found the only muddy road in the North Island and proceeded to take it on in a borrowed Toyota Corolla. That is the result,” he said pointing at the now brown car.

Dante took a second to make sure he was done.

“So I guess you’re not gonna come on the walk with us?”

Asmir just looked at him in amazement, not saying anything, just standing, mouth agape.

“I guessed as much.”

“You’re damn right. I haven’t slept, I’ve eaten the hospital’s food which shouldn’t even be served to rats, and I feel like that 300lb kid has been sleeping on my back, you know the one I mean, right? Half tonne kid or something like that?”

“Half tonne would make him 500lbs, Az. But yeah, I do.”

Asmir chose to ignore the correction. “Anyway, have a good little walk, I’m off to sleep on the warm coach.” Dante watched Asmir climb the stairs of the bus and stumble all the way to the back and out of view.

He turned back around to see that the group of old ladies had begun to power walk off into the distance. Arms and legs pumping hard. They were clucking away happily to each other as they hit the trail. His group had also started trudging up the path. But the body language was distinctly different. Hands in pockets, shoulders hunched over, kicking stones and all of it in absolute silence. Mel was right at the front looking weary and frustrated. She kept glancing towards the bus, presumably to catch a glimpse of Asmir. It seemed that nobody but Dante was in a good mood. Strange, seeing as the sun was shining and they were in paradise.

He shivered as he was hit by a rogue gust of frigid air. That was what prompted him to start moving. He picked up the pace to catch up with his group. His shoulders were back and his arms swinging.

Walk like a winner.

He caught up with the group and fell into a rhythm. Unbeknownst to them, they had been walking a very slight incline. No one had noticed, not even Dante. As Mel, the leader of the tour, reached the corner, she smiled. First into the distance then at them. One by one they got to the viewing landing where she was waiting and saw why she was beaming.

The view was barely of this world. It was like something from Avatar. Below them was a large gorge with a river bisecting the hills on either side. On the south-facing hillside the sun amplified the colors of the many plants and trees. Boulders lay scattered in a random, but strangely artistic pattern in between small sections of forest. A man and his dog could be seen navigating the treacherous terrain near the top of the northern hill. In the gorge the river thundered through the valley, meandering around corners and leaving only large stones behind. The water was clear and even at this distance, Dante could see the river bed. He took out his camera and snapped some shots. He knew Asmir quite liked photography so he would be a little upset that he didn’t get to see this.

Chapter 10

“I hate this place…” was all Asmir could make out. One of the passengers had come back early and was crashing around in the bus. He was angry about something. Asmir would normally have got up and made sure he was all right, but he hadn’t slept much and this guy had woken him up. He wasn’t in any mood for conversation. The guy hadn’t noticed him slumped at the back and he wanted to keep it that way. He kept still and tried to fall back to sleep. But in the background all he could hear was the guy pacing up and down the aisle, muttering. Each time he got further and further up the aisle. Then he stopped. For a second there was silence.

Then, “Oi! Are you hiding back there?” he shouted.

Asmir kept silent, hoping that his silence would answer the question. He was asleep and he wanted to stay that way.

The guy didn’t get the message. “Oi! The brown one back there, I’m talking to you.”

For a second Asmir wasn’t sure he had heard that right. So he gave the guy the benefit of the doubt and kept his mouth shut.

“Are you deaf, brown kid? This isn’t a homeless shelter. This is a tour bus. Go and sleep off the hangover somewhere else.”

Asmir definitely hadn’t misheard that. He got up, walked over to the guy and stuck out his hand.

The guy looked disgusted by this and backed away. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Shaking your hand.”

“Why?” he stuttered.

“You have got to be the most ignorant person I’ve ever met. I wanted to congratulate you.”

The guy just stood there, unable to speak. Asmir could almost hear his mind trying to process this scenario.

“Do you realize how many assumptions you just made about me?” Asmir carried on. “No? I didn’t think so. You don’t know anything about me.”

The man stayed silent.

“First you interrupt my sleep. Then you call me brown and insinuate that I’m not meant to be here. What’s your name?”

“Um…Richard Smith.”

“Well, Richard, is it all right if I call you Dick?” It wasn’t really a question he needed answering, so he carried on. “I can tell you are the type of guy who bullies people. I don’t like bullies very much. But I can be pretty forgiving, so here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re going to sit down and tell me what the hell is wrong with you and then I’m going back to sleep. Sound good, Dick?” Asmir wasn’t the violent type but he looked big enough to get away with what he’d just said. He didn’t really want to hear another word from Dick, but he knew that the guy’s pacing and muttering would keep him up, so he wanted it resolved.

Dick just stood there, his mouth slightly ajar and his brow furrowed. He was a strange-looking guy. Not ugly, but quite rat-like. Big nose. Deep-set brown eyes covered by thick, bushy eyebrows. His complexion was pale and his black hair was styled into a spiky quiff. He was about 6’1 and skinny, but with a fairly athletic build. Asmir could probably take him in a fight.

Finally Dick eased himself into an empty seat and Asmir sat opposite.

“Now tell me, what the hell is up with you? Why are you muttering to yourself like a crazy person?”

“I don’t want to be here. I hate it. Everything’s different.” His anger was evident.

“Different? From where?”

“England. It’s all different and weird.”

From the way he spoke, Asmir understood he wasn’t educated. So he would have to lead.

“And thank God it’s different! It’s sunny, there’s no traffic and not a pie in sight. Isn’t it great?”

Dick looked up at him like he’d blasphemed. “No, it’s not. I want all that. I hate the sun. Look at me, I burn easy. And pie, I would give my right arm for some pie right now.”

“So why are you here?”

“My family made me. I’ve never been out the country and I’m about to enlist. They thought it would be my last chance before I go to the army.”

“So for your first trip abroad they sent you to New Zealand? Dick, you’re a very lucky guy.”

“Lucky? You call almost a full day on a plane lucky?”

“Look around you, this place is incredible. Don’t miss out.”

“What’s your name?”

“Asmir. Maybe you should ask that first before calling me “brown kid”. You’re lucky it was me.”

“Look, Amsir…”

“Asmir, Dick. Asmir.”

“OK. Look, Asmir, I’m from a small village in Yorkshire. I don’t see many of your kind in my area. I’m not being racist. It’s just a fact. You are brown.”

Asmir chuckled a little. This guy was unbelievable. “I understand that, Dick, but you can’t call me brown, it’s seen as racist. You also can’t say “your kind”. When did you leave school?”

“Fourteen. Better to earn money doing odd jobs than paying it to learn algebra.”

Asmir didn’t want to argue with him. But he understood this guy’s character a little better now. He wasn’t racist, just uneducated. He called it like he saw it. Asmir’s skin was brown, so he called him brown. Not acceptable but not malicious.

“All right, listen to me, Dick. You have two options. Try to be open to New Zealand, the culture, the food and the weather, or go home. There’s no point in staying here if it makes you mad.”

Dick thought about it for a second. “Do you like England, Asmir?”

“Of course I do, but nowhere near as much as you it seems. It’s my home but it’s not my world. I appreciate other countries for their unique cultures. Do you think you can try and do that?”

There was a pause again. “I guess…”

“Good. Do me a favor, Dick, don’t call anybody else here brown or black. Next time you might not get so lucky.”

“Erm…OK.”

“Oh and don’t wake me up again. I slept on slate last night and I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus,” Asmir said getting up and trudging to the back of the bus.

He didn’t wait for a response. He’d only got two steps before he spotted a small piece of paper all scrunched up on the floor. On public transport or on the street he could’ve easily missed it, but it had caught his eye. He leant down to pick it up and slowly smoothed the edges out. Four words were scribbled on the paper.

“Why are you here?”

He had no idea what it meant but his gut told him it wasn’t good.

“Hey, what was that?” Dick asked from just over his shoulder.

“Err… Nothing. I don’t think it’s anything,” he lied.

Chapter 11

“Rubbish!” Asmir shuddered. Dante was showing him the photographs he had taken at the reserve.

“I’m sorry I’m not up to your standards, Az!”

Each photo Dante showed him he would critique carefully. On some the lighting was wrong. On others Dante had framed the scenery incorrectly. None of the photos were just right. But today he wouldn’t argue with Asmir. He needed the win. Dante let Asmir snatch the camera and continue to cycle through the pictures. Every now and again Asmir would tilt the camera towards Dante and say something like, “Really? You shot this kind of scenery vertically? Come on D, you’re better than that.” Dante just smiled and shrugged like he didn’t know any better. Probably because he didn’t.

They pulled out of the car park just as the elderly group came waddling back down to their stolen YMCA bus. They were huffing and puffing but there were smiles all round. A smile even broke out over Dante’s face. Partially because of the cheery old thieves below but mainly because they were off to their next stop, Waitomo and black water rafting. It was just under 180km which translated into about a two-hour drive. He knew Asmir wanted to sleep so after Asmir told him about the bizarre meeting with Dick Smith, he let him.

The two hours went by very quickly. He had a lot on his mind, most of which he was trying to actively expel. But it was easier thought than done. His subconscious was throwing up all kinds of memories that he was trying to bury, but couldn’t. So he was even more excited when they arrived at Waitomo that afternoon. His first impressions of the town were that it was small and idyllic. But their hostel was just outside the town. It was north-facing and resembled a giant chalet. Cool in the summer but probably chilly in the winter.

The passengers quickly unpacked their bags, some leaving unnecessary bags behind. They were only staying one night here after all. Asmir was refreshed now, but still shot Dick Smith a wary glance on his way out. Dante was not too keen on meeting him after how Asmir had described him. But Dante didn’t like to take other people’s opinions as his own so he reserved his judgement for now.

Asmir had once again booked a two-bed room for them in this hostel. They dragged their luggage into their room and both headed for the bathroom. Dante quickly saw that their room was almost exactly the same as his room in Hot Water Beach. So, while Asmir continued to evaluate it, he headed out onto their very small balcony. It had barely enough space for one person, but he made a point of checking the view. It didn’t disappoint. They had got lucky and been given the top floor. Their room was on the far right-hand side of the building facing north. There were better views in the cente rooms, two or three to their left but Dante was not complaining. Across from them was a forest with several hiking trails leading in. He had done his research and knew there was a small river that cut through this forest and the tour guides had planned to take a walk there in the morning. Balcony doors began sliding open as people checked out their views. One room to their left Becki and Annie popped their heads out first at the view, then turned and saw Dante.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Becki called out.

“Yeah. What are you two doing this afternoon?” Dante fired back.

“We’re both going to do black water rafting. What about you two?”

“Same!” Asmir shouted from inside.

Both looked at each other and laughed.

“See you soon then.” Dante smiled and headed inside.

“Swwweeeettttt,” Asmir said.

“What?” Dante asked.

“Don’t play dumb. You’re glad their coming. They’re right up your street. Intelligent, beautiful and ambitious.”

“I am glad, but it’s not exactly a romantic location is it? Squashed into wetsuits, submerged in ice-cold water and all that in complete darkness.” Dante flapped at Asmir like his comment was foolish.

“Are you kidding me? What could be more romantic than staring up at a million bright stars?”

“I think you mean a million bright worms.”

“Whatever, it’s still romantic. What’s going on with you? You are the most romance-crazed person I know. You used to believe that everything could be turned into a romantic situation. So what is it?”

“Nothing. I just don’t feel like a freezing cold cave is the place for romance, OK?”

“But like I just said…”

“Az, leave it, OK?” Dante pleaded. It wasn’t aggressive but it was the final word.

They continued to unpack in silence. Dante caught Asmir glancing over every now and then, looking worried. Dante paid no attention. He didn’t have any intention of unloading what he had on his mind. Most of it Asmir knew but Dante didn’t want to rehash it. He was committed to this trip. To the mission of this trip. He didn’t need to give attention to these negative emotions and risk spiraling again.

“What about you?” Dante finally said.

“Better after that sleep. Still a little pissed off at our friend Dick.”

“OK, good.” Dante paused, there was something on his mind. Asmir saw this pretty quickly.

“Spill it.”

“Have you noticed a couple of the passengers actively avoiding each other?”

“Meaning what?”

“OK, so people glance at each other from time to time, even those that don’t know each other. But there are a couple of passengers who never look at each other. You know me, I love to observe people and the dynamic is weird.”

“Explain…”

“They never sit closer than six rows apart, they’re never caught in the same group of people and like I said, the weirdest thing is that they never look at each other.”

Asmir dipped his hand inside his pocket and pulled out the crinkled piece of paper.

“Take a look at this,” Asmir said, handing it over to Dante.

Dante read the four words and began to say something but Asmir pre-empted him.

“On the bus, by the middle rows. No idea who it’s from or who it’s meant for.”

“Think it could be the two passengers?”

“Could be, long-lost brothers maybe.”

They continued to discuss all kinds of outlandish theories as to why they weren’t talking. Spies. Alien drones that had been planted on earth to monitor mankind. It all came out. Dante didn’t know what he had noticed but there was definitely something off about their dynamic. It wasn’t even that they actively disliked each other. It was like they didn’t want to be seen together. It didn’t sit right with him. Something was definitely wrong.

Chapter 12

There was a nervous tension permeating the bus. They had no idea what they were in for. Some were peering out of their windows looking for signs that they were nearly there. Others were silent and motionless. But it was clear that all were excited. They had no idea that Black Water Rafting was a combination of abseiling, freezing water and huge eels slithering through the blackness below them. Dante did, so he was just plain excited, but also restless, checking his watch every five seconds. This made Asmir a little uncomfortable. Asmir had continually tried to get Dante to tell him more about what they were about to go through, but Dante had refused. He didn’t want to build it up only for it to disappoint. After all, Dante had never actually done it before, but he had done several virtual tours. So he knew what to expect and he didn’t mind building it up in his own mind.

A couple of minutes rolled by and things began to change. People began to see the signs. The caves were 1km away now and the bus began to audibly awaken. Eyes lit up and smiles appeared. Even Viktor was grinning and boasting about how he was “a pro black water rafter.” Dante was sure he had no idea what it was.

How foolish you’re going to look half an hour from now.

It was that that brought a grin to Dante’s face. He couldn’t wait to see Viktor floundering in the ice-cold, jet-black water.

As Dante could have predicted, Viktor had pushed his way to the front of the queue when the bus finally came to a stop. He was hollering and chanting on his own. This made both Dante and Asmir fall over themselves laughing, because it seemed Viktor was the only one who hadn’t realized that this stop was not for the caves, but for the wetsuits. He was quickly put in his place when Mel said over the loudspeaker, “All the girls please exit first and line up outside the blue building over there to collect your wetsuits. Oh and Viktor…please sit down.”

The whole bus roared with laughter as a dejected Viktor slunk his way back to his seat. A great moment. For the rest of them of course, not for Viktor, who would think twice before making a beeline for the door early again.

Five minutes later all the passengers were back in the bus with their wetsuits on their laps. Dante had taken about ten seconds to pick out his wetsuit. His body type was decisively medium. Height-wise, weight-wise and even his build could only really be described as medium. He was fit and quite toned, but not shredded and definitely not skinny. Asmir on the other hand wasn’t really anything. He had abnormally wide shoulders for someone of 5’11, yet his hips were those more frequently seen on a runway model. With his freakishly large hands and feet, he could’ve made an excellent swimmer.

It was getting warm now. As the driver started up the engine there were shouts for the air conditioning to be turned on. He obliged. With a clunk and a high-pitched whirring, the AC started up and the bus became more bearable. They pulled slowly out of their last pit-stop and began their very short trip to the caves. As they were leaving, Dante saw Asmir turn towards the light blue building and snap a shot of it with his camera.

“Why’d you do that?” Dante asked, as there seemed to be nothing special about the setting at all.

“Sometimes what you think will make a shitty shot proves to be anything but. Check it.”

He swiveled the screen towards Dante so he could see his work and sure enough, it was a beautiful picture. The glare of the sun on the window had sent a strange ethereal haze cascading over the light blue building. It was just a little bit magical. Asmir really was talented. But not wanting to give him a big head, Dante just grunted, “It’s OK.”

Asmir seemed to see right through this and began to show others around him. He had always had a big head, but at least now he could be arrogant about something he was actually good at. He tried to explain to the helpless passengers why the light fell that way or how the lens he was using affected the shot. No one shut him down straight away. They were all very polite about listening to his boring rant, simply because in all other aspects of his life he was so incredibly interesting. Of course, for those that were knowledgeable on the subject of photography, the conversation would have been riveting. But it just so happened that none of those people had booked a tour on bus number 8. One by one he bored the back of the bus to death. They patiently nodded until he finished or simply feigned a headache. Unsurprisingly few actually needed to feign it. But they didn’t have to put up with it for long because less than ten minutes later, they had arrived at the caves.

Ben bellowed from the front, “I hope you all like eels, because they’re huge down there!”

Chapter 13

Most of them hadn’t realized that before they abseiled down into the caves they would of course have to practice, or risk plummeting into the icy waters below. Dante knew this. While the rest of them were stood around waiting for instruction, Dante had dragged Asmir over to the area where they were meant to be. He would’ve told the others too, but he wanted to be in the first group and, preferably, the first to abseil into the darkness.

Two instructors were waiting for them as they rounded the corner into the sloping training area. One was wearing a harness and prepping himself for a demonstration. The other was older and stony-faced. He was clearly the guy in charge.

He spoke first. “Where’s the rest of ya’ then?”

“I’m sure they’ll work it out soon. What you see here is the smart people on the bus,” Asmir replied.

“There’s only two of ya’.”

“Exactly,” Asmir said proudly. Admittedly he had set that up quite well.

Moments later, the other passengers appeared. But when they saw what was waiting for them they quickly forgot about all of that and fell silent. Some out of fear, others out of excitement. The practice area was on an incline with the passengers at the bottom and the two instructors at the top. The younger one was connecting his harness to a rope that extended from their position to the observers. Each end was held to the floor by a system of carabiniers.

“OK, listen up. Jimmy here is gonna show you how to work the equipment. It’s pretty simple really. We’ve only ever had two accidents. Unfortunate really, nice kids, just didn’t listen.”

“What do you mean by accident? Did they die?” Carl shouted from the back.

“I just told you there was an accident. Isn’t that enough for you? You wanna know the gory details? You wanna know that one girl broke her back and never walked again? Or maybe that the other guy fell 40ft and hit his head so hard that he was in a coma for four months? Yeah, you could say they survived. I wouldn’t.”

That was the last thing he said before walking off to one side and letting the young guy take over. All the eyes followed him trying to detect a hint of deception or even hoping that he would turn to them and say “I’m just kidding.” But he was unreadable and clearly it wasn’t a joke to him. There was an uneasy feeling in the air now. Even Dante could not quite believe what he had heard. Two seriously injured and he just admitted to his customers that they could also be in danger. Not a great strategy.

Dante and Asmir were there first so the younger guy brought them up. Dante had been abseiling before and easily completed the training in under two minutes. Asmir was naturally well co-ordinated so for him the training was also easy. Lean back, feed the rope through the carabinier and repeat. Dante was on alert after the older man’s admission, so he carried on until he felt completely comfortable with the action. It took no more than five minutes. After he was released from his harness he felt better. He had the action down pat. But he was still thinking about the two poor souls who had come to see the glowworms and left in an ambulance. The likelihood was that it was someone who was on a similar trip to him. Here from other countries trying to see New Zealand for the first time. The accident would’ve ruined their trip and as the older guy had said, ruined their lives too. Dante wanted to know more, the details of what had happened in each case and what specifically to avoid doing down there, so he edged closer to the older guy. By now he was entirely uninterested with what was happening in front of him. He was clearly there just to oversee the progress of his apprentice. He was glancing at his watch, then at his phone, then back at his watch. A pointless action as every phone has a built-in clock these days. So if he was open to a conversation, this was as good a time as any. But he had to get the opener right.

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