Read The Number 8 Online

Authors: Joel Arcanjo

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Urban, #Suspense, #Espionage, #General

The Number 8 (3 page)

BOOK: The Number 8
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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.

BOOK: The Number 8
3.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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