Snakehead

barrier and hit the main road, Alex had relaxed. He only had one evening in Australia. He might as well enjoy it.
    They followed the coast for about ten miles, then turned inland. Why had they come so far? Alex couldn’t shake off a sense of unease. After all, the compound at Swanbourne had been right on the beach to begin with.
    They had already passed a number of suburban houses and shopping malls, but they soon left those behind, and by the time they had joined a four-lane highway, they were driving through open countryside. None of them spoke. It was impossible in the open-top jeep with the wind rushing past. The music pounded out, but any words were snatched away and lost. After about twenty minutes, Scooter turned around and shouted, “You okay?” Alex nodded. But secretly he was wondering how far they intended to travel and when they would arrive.
    The journey took over an hour. They came off the highway and took a road that cut through a wooded area. Then they turned onto a track, and suddenly they were bumping over a rough, uneven surface with eucalyptus and pine trees pressing in on both sides. X-Ray had taken out a map. He leaned forward and tapped Sparks on the shoulder.
    “Is this the right way?” he shouted.
    “Sure!” Sparks shouted back without looking behind him.
    “I think we’ve come too far!”
    “Forget it, X-Ray. This is the right way…”
    There was a barrier ahead of them, similar to the one at Swanbourne except that it was old and rusted. There was a sign next to it.

    MILITARY ZONE
    ABSOLUTELY NO ADMITTANCE.
    TRESPASSERS WILL BE PLACED UNDER ARREST AND MAY BE IMPRISONED.

    Scooter slowed down and, without opening the door, Sparks leapt out of the jeep.
    “Where are we?” Alex asked.
    “You’ll see,” Scooter replied. “We come to a load of places around here. You’ll like it.”
    “We’ve come too far,” X-Ray insisted. “We should have turned off a mile back.”
    Sparks had opened the barrier—it obviously hadn’t been locked—and the jeep rolled forward. As it passed him, he leapt back into the passenger seat, and at once Scooter stepped on the accelerator and they shot forward, bumping over roots and potholes.
    It had become very dark. The last of the daylight had slipped away without Alex noticing, and suddenly the trees seemed very close, threatening to block the way ahead. The surface was getting worse and worse. Alex had to cling onto the side as he was thrown around, the coolers lifting themselves into the air and hanging there before crashing down again. Leaves and branches flickered briefly, a thousand black shadows caught in the headlights, before they whipped into the windshield and disappeared behind. The track didn’t seem to be going anywhere and Alex was having to fight back a sense of unease, wishing he hadn’t come, when suddenly they burst through a clump of foliage and came to a shuddering halt with soft sand underneath the wheels. They had arrived.
    Scooter turned off the engine, and at once the gentler sounds of the evening surrounded them. Alex could hear the whisper of the breeze and the rhythmic breaking of the waves. They had come to a beautiful place: a private beach that curved around in the shape of a crescent with perfect white sand next to a black-and-silver sea. There was a full moon and a fantastic cluster of stars that seemed to go on forever, stretching to the very ends of the Southern Hemisphere.
    “Everybody out!” Scooter shouted. He kicked the door open and tumbled out onto the beach. “X-Ray…get me a Coke. Texas, it’s your turn to cook.”
    “I always cook!” Texas complained.
    “Why do you think we invite you?”
    X-Ray turned to Alex. “You thirsty?”
    Alex nodded, and X-ray threw him a can of Coke.
    Meanwhile, Texas had begun to unload the jeep. Alex saw that the SAS men had brought sausages, burgers, steaks, and chops…enough meat to feed a small army. But apart from a greasy, blackened steel grill, there was no sign of the promised barbecue. Scooter must have read his mind. “We’re going to build a bonfire, Alex,” he said. “You can help collect wood.”
    Sparks had taken the guitar out of the back. He rested it on his knee and strummed a few chords. The music sounded tiny, lost in the emptiness of the night.
    “Okay. Here’s the plan,” Scooter said. It seemed that he was the natural leader even if all four men were the same age and rank. “Alex and I will fetch firewood. Texas can start setting