Free The Bone Tiki by David Hair Page A

the bridge, it was as if he’d left the world of people. The willows muffled the distant sounds of cars on the highway, which moved away from the river, until hundreds of metres separated Mat from the road. The land between was filled with grapevines and high grass, but the banks on the river steepened and soon he forgot about the outside world. He was trudging and sloshing down a winding corridor of willow, the sky was a narrow bank of blue above and the only noise was the splash and chortle of the stream, and the song of birds and cicadas in the trees. Dragonflies darted about him, and the breeze ruffled his hair gently. It was hard to remember he was being hunted.
    He made slower time than he’d thought he would, with fallen logs, tangled willow that occasionally overhung the stream, and deep pools, all slowing him down. He fell more than once, so that he was constantly wet below the waist. Several times stones slid into his trainers, and he had to stop and shake them out. He grew tired, and sick of the effort.
    He heard the strange whispering just once. His name, whispered hungrily, barely audible yet chilling. ‘Mat…Mat…where are you? Answer me, boy…or it will go badly for you and your parents…’
    Suppressing a brief tremor, he pulled out his koru, pictured a baby in front of him, shushed it, and the whispering went away. He shook his head, to dispel the faint echo of that hissing voice, and then it was gone. A sense of unreality momentarily overtook him. Nothing made any sense any more…and yet it did…Puarata was real, and so was Pania. What she had told him had worked, and he had done it. With his own imagination, he made the voice go away. He felt a small surge of satisfaction. Feeling better for this small triumph, he pushed onward, and was beginning to think about where to leave the river and chance the road when he heard a dog bark, and seconds later someone called out to him.
    ‘Hey!’
    Mat stopped, cringing. The voice came from a sunny-faced girl, maybe eighteen years old, slightly plump with short red hair, in a dirty blue T-shirt and shorts. Her skin was pink from the sun and her nose freckled. At her side was a big golden-brown Labrador with bright eyes and a drooling tongue. It barked again, tail wagging.
    ‘Hey, you OK?’ the girl called again.
    He felt a small pang of worry, wondered how best to answer.
    ‘Yeah,’ he replied, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘Just, y’know, hiking.’
    The girl leaned against a tree trunk. She had a water-bottle in her hand. ‘Uh-huh.’
    ‘Is something wrong?’ Mat asked, wishing he sounded more casual. ‘This isn’t private land is it?’
    The girl shook her head. ‘Nah.’ She tossed a glance back over her shoulder. ‘Eskdale Park.’
    ‘Oh.’ He was further into the valley than he thought. He looked at his watch. Nearly half-three. ‘Well, better get going,’ he said, turning away.
    ‘Wait!’ the girl called.
    His heart began a slow painful beat, and he felt new beads of sweat forming on his forehead. ‘What?’ I wonder what she’d do if I just ran?
    ‘I just wondered if you wanted a bite to eat. And to see the fair.’
    ‘What fair?’
    ‘There’s a fair back in the park.’ She indicated the area back through the trees behind her again.
    ‘No thanks.’ He turned again, took a few steps.
    ‘Are you that runaway kid?’
    He froze, and then began to think seriously about running. ‘What runaway kid?’ he called over his shoulder.
    ‘The one on the radio. Wiremu someone…that you?’
    Uh-oh. ‘No.’ His voice sounded squeaky.
    The girl took a step toward him and he took three quick ones back. She stopped, raised both hands quickly, palms out. ‘Don’t worry!’ she said quickly. ‘It’s OK, y’know. I used to run away from my folks heaps when I was your age.’
    He stopped backing up, and stood there, wondering what to do. The Labrador trotted up to him and nuzzled his hand, as though trying to persuade him to like the