Max Arena Page 22

  ‘I may not be tired as you, but what I am tired of is running and hiding,’ Max replied, holding his wife’s hand.

  ‘Five months, darling. That’s when the running and hiding stops.’

  Max nodded. In five months time maybe everything stopped, forever. Elsa continued.

  ‘So, did you find out where we are?’ she asked, looking around the room. ‘Joe sure can pull some strings. This place is a palace.’

  ‘One of Sir Reginald Flottmore’s holiday pads apparently?’ Max replied.

  ‘The Sir Reginald Flottmore? The richest man in the world?’

  ‘Yeah. His portraits are all over the walls downstairs. It’s like a shrine. The bloke from Peter’s team says both Joe and Abdullah are mates with Flottmore. Pretty powerful trio.’

  ‘Too right. Got to admit, I do like this place more than the last one though. Not really a ranch kind of girl. Much prefer the beach.’

  ‘Pity we didn’t have time to pack the bikini,’ Max replied, nudging his wife.

  ‘Didn’t have time to pack anything,’ she replied, pulling a face. ‘I hope there’s a shopping trip in the plan?’

  ‘I hope there are still shops out there that are open?’ Max added.

  Elsa nodded silently, her eyes dipping down. Max continued.

  ‘Peter’s man was also saying that the plan was to move us here sooner or later anyway. It’s easier to protect us and it has better facilities. The attack just upped the schedule a bit.’

  Elsa rubbed her face again with her spare hand. Max squeezed her other hand.

  ‘That was pretty scary back there,’ she said. ‘I know they were just ordinary people made desperate by fear and they were really just hungry, but that was..’ she trailed off shaking her head.

  ‘You’re right. They were just hungry,’ Max replied.

  ‘But hungry enough to want to shoot us and do God knows what else?’ Elsa shot back.

  ‘I guess all this proves that civilisation can be pretty fragile when it gets threatened,’ Max answered. ‘We don’t know what it’s really like out there. We see things on TV and Peter gives us his security briefings, but that’s only information. Actually living out there must be completely different and much harder than we can imagine? We know people are dying, really dying and today we saw how that happens, right up close.’ Max paused as the daylight outside slipped completely away into twilight. ‘Maybe we needed to see that? Maybe we needed a wakeup call to get us ready for what’s coming next?’

  Elsa glanced up at her husband and then snuggled a little more closely into him.

  ‘Maybe?’ she said. ‘But that was a little too close for me. I just hope the kids don’t get affected by whatever they saw?’ Max nodded. Elsa added, ‘I hope all the staff and the soldiers got out too and that no one else was hurt, apart from the two guys you and Peter took out?’

  ‘Peter’s man also said all the staff got out, but two soldiers were killed and lots of civilians. The rubber bullets got swapped out while we were leaving.’

  Elsa winced, but stayed quiet. Max took in a deep breath and squeezed his wife’s hand again before standing up to turn and face her.

  ‘Good news is,’ he started, ‘Millie and Jason’s teacher is already here and he’ll be ready to start teaching again tomorrow, so the kids at least might be able to get back into their normal routine quickly?’

  ‘There’s no more normal for us, dear,’ Elsa replied, looking up at him. ‘We just have to deal with whatever comes our way.’

  Max nodded. ‘True enough.’

  ‘Let’s just try to keep the kids as sane as we can,’ Elsa said, also rising and stifling a yawn.

  Max suddenly turned and found Peter in the doorway to the room.

  ‘Pete, what’s up?’ Max asked.

  ‘Just checking in,’ he replied. ‘I’ll leave you be.’

  An instant later, he was gone.

  ‘Him and his team were really something today weren’t they?’ Elsa said.

  ‘Yeah,’ Max said absently. ‘Give me a second would you?’

  ‘Sure,’ Elsa said uncertainly as Max hurried from the room and through the doorway Peter had just been in.

  Jogging down the corridor and to a landing where a carpet covered staircase descended down to the next floor, Max found Peter halfway down the steps.

  ‘Hey!’ he called out. ‘Hold up!’

  Peter stopped and turned on the midway landing. Max came down to stand with him.

  ‘What is it?’ Peter asked. ‘Need anything?’

  ‘No,’ Max said, ‘but I do need to say...’ Max started.

  ‘No, you don’t,’ Peter cut in, waving a hand and starting to turn to keep going down the stairs. ‘I don’t need to hear it.’

  ‘Yes, you do because I need to say it,’ Max pushed.

  Peter stopped, but only half turned back.

  ‘You saved my life today,’ Max continued, ‘and you rescued my family and I know that’s your job and all, but for me, that makes you as good as blood. I’m not going to say I owe you. That stuff’s not for real life, but if the cards ever play out in reverse, I’m there for you and you can believe that.’

  Then Peter turned full round and looked Max in the eye. ‘I do believe it,’ he said, ‘because you’re the one saying it. Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance to square me up in the arena, but just so you know, I didn’t shoot that bloke today to save you because we need to get you into the arena safe and sound. I shot that bloke because you’re a mate and I’ll never let a mate down.’

  Max nodded and Peter held his eye for a few moments. Finally breaking the lock, Peter turned and made his way further down the stairs leaving Max to watch him go.

  * * *

  As the darkling twilight bloomed over the eastern horizon outside, upstairs in one of the sumptuous bedroom suites, Kris lay shivering under the blankets of her bed. Her sedatives had stolen her consciousness away, but the drugs had not had any effect on the storm that continued to rage inside her mind. She was as good as crippled. Despite the drugs, Kris’ body had given up on her, rendering her paralytic. Right now, she was awash in a tempest that was threatening to take both her sanity and her life.

  The storm had started the moment the sirens had gone off and by the time they had clambered into the chopper, it had reached cyclone levels. Kris had run as hard as she could to get to the chopper and had carried Jason to safety like he was her own flesh and blood, but the effort had claimed her. The moment someone had strapped her into her seat, she was lost, the fear in her mind rampant.

  None of the ensuing treatment from the paramedic team had registered. Elsa’s pleading for her to wake up had not made any impact. Abdullah had even called and asked to be put on speaker to talk to her, but Kris’ incapacity had imprisoned her and Abdullah had suffered through total silence. With nothing else to be done after medicating her, the staff had left Kris alone for regular monitoring with no visitors.

  So there she lay, a bone sucking chill racking her to the core. Outside, the calm, placid ocean surrounding the island lay in stark contrast to the wild, broiling seas consuming Kris’ mind, the howling winds and towering swells unrelenting. As time passed, the night drew on and Kris’ grasp on life faltered.

  * * *

  Far across the globe, the Lear Jet’s wheels lifted smoothly off the tarmac, its tyres still spinning as they disappeared neatly into the enclosed undercarriage slots in the belly of the plane. Inside, Abdullah looked absently out the window at the tranquil, aqua blue waters of the Arabian Gulf as they passed beneath him. If he had bothered to look carefully, he would have seen a mother dugong and her calf, peacefully grazing in the shallows on the scattered patches of sea grass.

  However, his mind was elsewhere, seeking solace amidst an ever growing tornado of worries. The United States had just escalated their entire armed services to DEFCON 3, placing them on alert readiness for full military defence and retaliation if provoked anywhere in the world. President Bartholomew had final
ly reacted to Russia’s poorly restrained military that were frequently crossing out of their own borders to fight their own raging civil war. Any further wayward air strikes were not going to go unchallenged.

  On top of this, Abdullah’s own kingdom was in an ever tightening grip of hunger. Food imports had declined to critical levels due mostly to piracy in the Straits of Hormuz at the entry to the Arabian Gulf. His attempts to pay the Sultan of Oman and the Iranian President extra funds to police the straits had failed. Pirates now raided at will, effectively blocking any incoming trade to his country and others inside the gulf, bringing the once friendly neighbours ever closer to outright conflict.

  Now Kris had gone down and that was too much. Abdullah had to get back to Australia. The rest of the world would have to wait. Team Max, his new found friends needed him and that pull was too strong to ignore. Within minutes of receiving the call from Joseph, Abdullah was walking across the tarmac at his private airstrip to his fastest jet. His laptop sat on the seat next to him, closed and disregarded, but full of briefing papers and emails that outlined the state of play of civilisation across the planet, all of the news variations on a calamitous theme.

  As always when Abdullah sought peace, his mind wandered to a single image. A woman, her face young, beautiful and flawless. Her dark, hazel-coloured eyes gazed serenely back, their shimmering depth mirroring his soul. A picture of Heaven.

  ‘Al-ḥamdu lillāh,’ Abdullah said to himself. ‘Praise be to Allah.’

  Then the image morphed and Kris filled the space in his mind and he whispered something very different.

  ‘Please, do not take another?’

  9am, 5th August (3 days later). Light and Pancakes

  A soft light slowly filtered into Kris’ senses, but from where, she did not know. Nor did she much care. All she knew was that it was peaceful and quiet. No storm raged about her and it had not been like this for a very long time.

  The light grew steadily brighter and a different world slowly began to take form. A large window full of seamless blue sky filled Kris’ vision, a slight wafting breeze ruffling the lace curtains either side of the space. The peace infused her.

  Then she smelled something. Something delicious. Kris searched her memory for the aroma and found it. Pancakes. By now she knew she was awake and that could only be good. Bright blue sky, pancakes and no pain inside her mind.

  Turning her head to look around, Kris discovered a massive bedroom. She did not recognise any of the furnishings or fittings, but the total serenity overcame any hint of uncertainty. It just felt safe and that made her actual whereabouts unimportant.

  Laying her head back down on the pillow, Kris watched reflected light play across the ceiling, dancing and flickering in a random and carefree pattern. The chatter of parrots sounded through the window and behind it all, there was another sound, something familiar. The sea.

  A twinge of fear pricked inside her. The storm was coming back. Kris’ eyes flicked around the room again, waiting for the roar to rise and crash, but instead it stayed in the background. The waves did not rear up. The sea stayed calm. The world held its peace.

  ‘It is the real ocean you hear,’ sounded a soft, familiar voice, its rolling baritone as musical to her ears as any classical symphony. Kris lifted her head and found Abdullah sitting in a large, ornately carved and upholstered chair beyond the foot of her bed. ‘The sea in your head is silent and calm. You are safe, Kris. You have found your way to shore.’

  Kris did not know what to say, so all she did was look at Abdullah’s kindly face, absorb it and attach it to his words. She was safe and Abdullah was here to prove it. He spoke again.

  ‘You were adrift a long time,’ he said. ‘Three days have passed since you left us, but you have returned. Your strength has brought you to safe haven and with just a little more recuperation, you will be free of your fears forever. Of that I am sure.’

  Kris still did not know what to say and then her senses reminded her of something else.

  ‘Pancakes?’ she asked with a blend of uncertainty and hope.

  Abdullah smiled, his features softening even further. ‘I apologise,’ he said. ‘Pancakes are perhaps my one true weakness and I have just indulged myself. However, if you wish, I can have some more sent up in just a few minutes?’

  ‘You’ve been here the whole time?’ Kris asked quietly.

  ‘Not the whole time. Elsa, Max and Joseph, and even Millie and Jason have been sharing the vigil. They all care very much about you, Kris and will be overjoyed to know you have awoken.’

  Kris looked at Abdullah a little longer, unable to break her gaze from his face. He appeared so calm, so tranquil and something else? Secure. That was it. Secure. Like Max, the world revolved around Abdullah, not the other way around. Abdullah affected the world. It did not affect him, but the difference between Abdullah and Max was that Max acted physically, whereas Abdullah always remained passive, his calm, soothing demeanour belying his true strength and his true power. In many ways, Abdullah was far stronger and far more powerful than Max could ever be and as this man sat quietly in his chair at the foot of the bed, his pristine white robes draped around him and his hands resting comfortably on his crossed knees, Kris knew that it had been Abdullah who had brought her back to shore. It was Abdullah who had saved her from the turmoil in her mind. How, she did not know, but deep in her heart, she knew it had been him, sitting quietly at the end of the bed, undoubtedly praying to his god and just watching. A sentinel. Her sentinel.

  Kris let her head fall back to the pillow and returned her view to the playing lights on the ceiling. It was time to start living again.

  4pm, 5th August (later that day). Secret Flame

  The twenty kilo kettle bell sailed through the air to hit the turf twenty metres away from where Max had hurled it. The steel ball thudded deep into the luxuriant green grass to join the growing pile of other twenty kilo kettle bells Max had thrown. Before the steel ball hit the ground, Max had another one in his left hand and was winding up to throw it too.

  From his stationary stance, Max had twin stock piles of kettle bells on each side of him and with alternating underarm swings like dual windmills, he was tossing the kettle bells one at a time as far as he could out across the northern lawn of the estate. Speed was his primary concern, picking up and throwing the bells as quickly as he could, but as he found his rhythm, Max increased his power, stretching the growing pile further and further away.

  Hurling the final bell out into space and a good twenty-five metres distant, Max straightened up and paused. He didn’t know what to do next, at least not right away. So, he launched forward into a three quarter sprint across the grass and away towards the far tree line to fill the pause with something. As he ran, Max wondered what he could do when he reached the trees. Max also hoped that the set of eyes watching from behind him would soon be able to get back down on the grass to help.

  Back up on the balcony behind him, Kris watched Max go through his paces, jealous that he had his orange sneakers on and was active while she was house-bound in her dressing gown. Still, it was good to see that the daily routine went on unhindered by her absence. The world still needed saving, regardless of her state of health.

  Closing her eyes, Kris let the soft sounds of the sea wash over her, the sensation now calming and not in the least disturbing. Abdullah was right. Her fears had left her and now reality was firmly in perspective. She understood what she needed to do and also acknowledged that despite her’s, Max’s and everyone else’s best efforts, the world was still probably doomed. If that was the case, she would die. Her family would die and everything good and beautiful in the world would be lost. So be it. Fate is fate, but Kris would not let fate come easily. She would fight it and she would fight it till she fell in front of it.

  ‘Hey, you,’ sounded a voice behind her.

  Kris turned and opened her eyes. Elsa had snuck up behind her on the balcony.

  ‘Hey, you too,’ Kris replied, smi
ling.

  The two women gently hugged and then stepped back to look at each other.

  ‘You look good,’ Elsa said.

  ‘I feel good. I really do.’

  Elsa turned and stepped up to the glass balustrade to see her husband running back towards the house from the distant trees.

  ‘You know he’s been lost without you?’ Elsa said.

  ‘I get that a lot with men,’ Kris replied.

  ‘Yeah, you’re a real heart breaker,’ Kris said in return, smiling, ‘but really, you should have seen him yesterday. He had one of your boys go find a big enough ladder so he could climb up on top of the Pain Train and jump off it again and again as fast as he could. It was all he could think of.’

  Kris raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s not bad.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe,’ Elsa drawled, ‘but only to a point. He couldn’t think of anything else after that, so he tried going up the ladder on his hands instead.’

  ‘And how’d that go?’

  ‘Poorly, but it was pretty funny.’

  ‘I’ll have to remember that next time I need a laugh.’

  Elsa looked back at Kris and studied her face. ‘You really do look good. We were worried as hell about you. You went down real hard.’

  ‘Abdullah said you’d all been to sit with me and I...’ Kris started, ‘...I think it helped me. This might sound a little weird, but while I was down, it was like being lost at sea in a storm, a really, really bad storm and without a life jacket or anything. The waves just kept crashing down on me and it was dark. So dark, the whole time, but then, a light started to shine on the horizon. At first I lost sight of it as the waves kept coming down on me, but slowly the light lifted higher and got brighter and somehow it gave me the strength to start treading water. My head stayed up more and more and then I realised I was kicking my legs and paddling towards the light because where there’s light, there’s hope isn’t there? So, as the light grew brighter, I got stronger. The sky grew lighter and the waves died down and then finally, at last, my feet touched the bottom...and I woke up.’