Outback Read online

  Outback

  Robin Stevenson

  orca soundings

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  Copyright © 2011 Robin Stevenson

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Stevenson, Robin, 1968-

  Outback / Robin Stevenson.

  (Orca soundings)

  Issued also in electronic format.

  ISBN 978-1-55469-420-4 (bound).--ISBN 978-1-55469-419-8 (pbk.)

  I. Title. II. Series: Orca soundings

  PS8637.T487O984 2011 JC813'.6 C2010-908050-5

  First published in the United States, 2011

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2010942084

  Summary: Jayden ends up in the unforgiving Australian outback, fighting for his life.

  Orca Book Publishers is dedicated to preserving the environment and has printed this book on paper certified by the Forest Stewardship Council.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

  Cover design by Teresa Bubela

  Cover photography by Getty Images

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  PO BOX 5626, Stn. B PO BOX 468

  Victoria, BC Canada Custer, WA USA

  V8R 6S4 98240-0468

  www.orcabook.com

  Printed and bound in Canada.

  14 13 12 11 • 4 3 2 1

  For Cheryl and Kai, my fabulous travel companions; and for Ilse and Giles, who first took me into the Australian outback.

  Love you all.

  Contents

  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 One

  My uncle Mel believes in learning through experience. When I was five, he threw me off his boat. He figured swimming was instinctive and thought he could save my mom the cost of lessons. Turned out he was wrong. I swallowed half the lake before he finally fished me back out. I guess his version of events was a little different from mine, because instead of being mad, Mom gave him the credit for saving my life.

  Mel has always taken an interest in my education. Still, I am surprised when Mom tells me that he has invited me to go to Australia with him. I am even more surprised that she thinks it is a good idea.

  “Seriously?” I stare at her. “What about school?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret having said them.

  “Jayden, please.” Mom’s forehead creases. “You’ve skipped more classes than you’ve been to this year. And that’s not including the times you’ve been suspended.”

  I look away from her, out the window. The sky is gray. Half-frozen rain is falling at a steep angle, tapping against the window like a thousand ghostly fingertips. I hate school. You read about stuff, you listen to people talk about stuff, you write about stuff…and you never actually get to do anything. I used to go just to see Anna, but since she dumped me, I couldn’t see the point in school.

  Actually, I couldn’t see the point in anything at all. “It’s just so…”

  Mom blows a stray lock of blond hair out of her eyes and tucks it behind her ear. “I know. That’s why I thought this trip might be a good idea.”

  I don’t care much either way. Going to Australia sounds like it would take more energy than I have. On the other hand, maybe Mom wants me out of her hair.

  “It’ll be summer in Australia,” Mom says. “Sunshine. Beaches. No school.”

  No having to watch Anna walking around with her friends and laughing, obviously doing fine without me. “When’s Mel going?” I ask.

  “He’s already there. He’s been doing some research at the university in Adelaide for the last couple of months.”

  “I don’t know,” I say.

  “Come on, Jayden. Kangaroos. Koalas. Gum trees and blue skies. You could take your camera. Get some great wildlife shots.”

  “I guess.” I haven’t taken any photographs for months.

  She sighs. “Think about it, okay?”

  “You want to get rid of me, huh?” It’s supposed to be a joke but it comes out sounding all wrong. Angry and bitter instead of funny.

  “Oh, Jay. Of course I don’t. I just… You’ve been moping around for months and you won’t go to school and you won’t see a doctor and you won’t even talk to me.”

  I look at her and look away quickly. Her green eyes are shiny with tears. I feel a hot spreading sense of shame, like I’ve done something awful, messed something up, and I don’t even know what. “Fine,” I say. “I’ll go then.”

  “Are you sure?” She hesitates. “I don’t mean to pressure you. I just thought maybe…well, maybe it would help.”

  It seems like an awfully long shot to me, but it’s not like I have any better ideas. “It’s fine,” I say again. “I’ll go.”

  “You’d have to fly down in the next couple of weeks.” She sounds hesitant now, like she isn’t so sure of this idea after all. “Mel says he could use your help with his research.”

  “What kind of research?”

  “I don’t know. Bugs of some kind.

  Or maybe it was frogs.” She makes a face. “I tuned out a bit. You know how he can be.”

  I do know. If you met Uncle Mel walking down the street, you’d probably think he was a crazy homeless guy or something, all scruffy-looking and always talking a mile a minute about weird stuff that sounds like something out of a B movie: giant elephant shrews in Tanzania, six-foot-long gelatinous fish in Brazil, ghost slugs in Wales.

  He’s not actually homeless or anything like that. He has an apartment in Toronto, though he is hardly ever there, and he has a PhD in biology.

  Mom’s always been impressed by him. But he really is a little crazy.

  Mel is my mom’s half-brother. When I was five, my grandpa died. A few weeks later, Mom got an email from this guy who explained that he was her older brother. Turned out, Mom’s father had got his high-school girlfriend pregnant and had kept it secret for his whole life. Mom was happy about it once she got over the shock. Her mother was dead, and she’d grown up an only child. So Mel, strange as he is, is the only family we have.

  Also, my dad has never been part of our lives, so Mom had this idea that Mel would be a good male role model for me. When we had to make Father’s Day cards in first grade, I made one for Mel. I even brought him to school once for family show-and-tell. He brought a tarantula to show the class, and when a kid dropped it, Mel lost his temper pretty badly. I wasn’t allowed to invite him to the school after that.

  These last few years he hasn’t been around much anyway.

  “I think you’re making a good decision.” Mom shuffles through the papers in her filing cabinet, pulls out my passport and flips it open. “Yup, still valid.” She hands it to me. “It’ll be an adventure, right?”

  “Sure.”

  She ruffles my hair. “You’ll be away for your birthday though. Sweet sixteen.”

  I s
nort. Girls have sweet sixteen. Guys like me have…I don’t know. Scrawny, spotty, sad-ass sixteen.

  “I’ll miss you, Jay-Jay,” Mom says softly.

  I look at her: messy long hair, freckles, slight buck teeth. She is thirty-five but looks ten years younger. “I’ll miss you too, Mom.” A wave of guilt washes over me. My mom is awesome, and I love her tons, but the weight of her worry is more than I can take.

  It will be a relief to get away.

  Chapter Two

  Two weeks later, I walk out of Adelaide airport. The sky is an intense blue, and the air scorches my lungs with every breath. The guy who stamped my passport said G’day, mate, just like in the movies, and I realize that I am actually grinning. Monday morning and here I am, on the other side of the world.

  No sign of Mel. I dump my backpack on the sidewalk beside me, wipe the sweat from my forehead and look around for a pay phone.

  A girl’s voice startles me. “Are you Jayden Harris?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I look at her. Faded denim cut offs, yellow tank top, short dark hair and smooth brown skin. Black geometric tattoos inked around undeniably impressive biceps. Snakebite piercings in her lower lip. Huge sunglasses. Cute accent.

  And, unfortunately, not even a hint of a smile.

  “Mel sent me to pick you up,” she says.

  I lift my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. “Thanks. Um, I’m Jay.”

  “Yeah, we already established that.” She walks ahead of me, not bothering to introduce herself.

  I follow. Mel doesn’t have a daughter, and she’s way too young to be his girlfriend. “So how do you know my uncle?”

  “I’m his research assistant.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I’m studying biology at the Uni.”

  “Cool. So, um, your name is…?”

  “Natalie. But everyone calls me Nat.” She jangles her car keys and points them in the direction of the parking lot. “Shall we?”

  We drive in silence for a while. Nat isn’t exactly giving off warm and friendly vibes. I sneak a sideways glance. She is staring straight ahead at the road, her eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.

  “Does Mel live far from here?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I’m taking you to the university. Mel’s getting stuff ready for the expedition.”

  “Expedition?”

  She turns toward me. “I thought that was why you were here. To help out.”

  “Um, with his research. I never heard anything about an expedition.” I wonder if Mom told me and I wasn’t listening.

  “So where’s he going?”

  “Hasn’t he told you anything?”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t even talked to him. He and my mom arranged this.”

  “Your mom? God, how old are you?”

  “Sixteen.” Or close enough.

  She gives an exaggerated groan and turns her attention back to the road.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Forget it.”

  We drive the rest of the way without a word. She drives aggressively, speeding on the highway and zigzagging past other cars in the city. Fine with me. It’s not like I care if we crash.

  The university is a collection of old brick buildings, grassy lawns, paved courtyards. Still not talking, Nat leads me through a doorway and down a long corridor. She walks like she drives: fast, impatient, expecting others to get out of her way.

  “Jayden! So good to see you!” Mel bursts out of his office and pulls me into a bone-crushing hug. “Wonderful, wonderful. Look at you! My, my. Been way too long.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I follow him into his office, which is small and windowless, with stacks of files and papers piled on every surface.

  “And Natalie. Thanks for picking him up.”

  “No problem.”

  “Why the frown, Nat?”

  She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

  Mel cocks his head to one side. He is ten years older than my mom but looks twice that. Leathery sun-browned skin, receding hairline, tobacco-stained teeth, a piercing blue-eyed gaze, which is now fixed on Nat. “Ahhh.” He gives a slow chuckle. “Did my nephew not live up to the fantasy?”

  Nat’s cheeks flame red. “Mel!”

  “You had visions of trekking off with a handsome stranger, and instead you got a high-school kid, is that it?”

  “No,” she protests. “But I don’t think taking someone with no experience is a great idea. Someone who isn’t even out of high school.”

  “I’m out of high school now, aren’t I?” I say.

  Mel roars with laughter. “You sure are! You sure are!” He slaps his leg, cracking up.

  I stare at him. It wasn’t that funny.

  Nat shakes her head. “I can tell this trip is going to be a blast.”

  I’m slowly realizing something. “Uh, Nat? Are you coming on this trip too?”

  “Yeah,” she says. “Of course.”

  “My assistants,” Mel says, nodding. “Both of you.”

  So Nat and I are stuck with each other. Just great. “And where exactly are we going?”

  Mel grabs my shoulder. “Lake Disappointment, my boy! Lake Disappointment!”

  I raise an eyebrow. Not the most promising name. Still…“A lake? Cool.”

  Nat snorts. “If you’re picturing cottages and jet skis, forget it. It’s not that kind of lake.”

  Mel turns to the computer on his desk, sweeps a pile of papers off the keyboard and clicks a picture up on the screen.

  “There you go. That’s our destination.”

  I step closer. The picture is a satellite shot, or maybe an aerial view from a plane. A vastness of desert, brown dry land in every direction, and in the middle of it an irregularly shaped blotch of gray. “That’s it? Wow. Um, why…?”

  He pulls up another picture. A close-up of a bunch of pale green shrubs growing in red dirt, with a pale whitish expanse shining behind it. I assume that’s the lake, but it doesn’t look like any lake I’ve seen before.

  Mel points at the green shrubs. “That’s why. New species, my boy, just waiting to be discovered.”

  “Of plants?”

  He shakes his head. “Ctenophorus nguyarna. They can’t be the only ones.”

  I stare at him. “What did you just say?”

  Nat takes pity on me and translates. “Lizards. Someone found a new species there a few years ago, and Mel thinks there must be others.”

  “Okay,” I say. “Lizards it is. I like lizards.” All those cool frills and spikes and colors. Plus they sit still for ages, making them a photographer’s dream.

  Nat gives a little snort at my general cluelessness.

  I ignore her. “So when do we leave?”

  Mel grins, his cheeks creasing with deep lines. “A couple of days. We’ve just been waiting for you.”

  “And those spare parts,” Nat adds.

  “Got ’em this morning!” Mel says.

  I try to rejoin the conversation. “Spare parts?”

  Nat nods. “For the jeep. The four-wheel drive.”

  “We’re driving?” I’d assumed we’d fly. I step closer to the computer and look at the two photographs more closely. “Um, I don’t see any roads.”

  Nat starts to laugh. “You have no idea, do you, mate? No idea at all.”

  Chapter Three

  That night at Mel’s apartment, I look up Lake Disappointment online. Here’s what I find out:

  1. It’s not exactly what I think of as a lake. It’s a massive saltwater basin in the middle of the desert. When there’s water. Otherwise, I guess it’s just a massive salt basin.

  2. It lies on one of the most isolated roads in the entire world. Actually, not even a road: a hundred-year-old track that was once used by cattlemen moving their stock animals across the desert.

  3. Once you are out there, you are seriously alone.

  4. If anything goes wrong, you are seriously screwed.

  Nat was right: I had no idea. “Hey, Mel?” />
  Mel is loading specimen jars into a cardboard box. “What?”

  “It says here that traveling on the Canning Stock Route isn’t recommended in the summer months.” I clear my throat and read out loud: “Extreme heat and isolation. You think maybe we ought to wait a bit?”

  He shakes his head. “No. It’s practically fall. Almost March.”

  “It’s still February, Mel. It’s forty degrees here in the city.”

  “You’ll get used to the heat.”

  “Why not wait until April, like they suggest? It says here—”

  Mel cuts me off. “Because Ian and Polly Rizzard are going in April.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Herpetologists from Perth.”

  I make a face. “Herpetologists?”

  “They study lizards.”

  “Ahh.” Not herpes then.

  “There was a biodiversity conference up in Darwin a few years ago. Did you know that over eight hundred and fifty brand-new species have been found in the outback, living in underground caves?”

  “No, can’t say I did.”

  “That was where I met Ian and Polly. Since then, they’ve been at every conference I’ve been to, rubbing my nose in their latest work, talking about some new species that is going to be named for them.”

  “The Rizzard Lizard?” I burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Mel shoots me a dirty look. “Turns out there are more than twice as many species of lizard in Australia than were previously thought.”

  “And that’s why you want to go to this lake?”

  “That’s right, Jayden. Because every sign points to there being more new species of lizard there. And this time…” He thumps his fist on his chest. “This time, I am going to be the first to find them.”

  Two days later we fly to Perth to pick up our rented four-wheel-drive jeep. Mel seems weirder than ever and Nat ignores me, but it still beats being back home. It beats trudging through the snow and sitting in classrooms under the glare of fluorescent lights and listening to teachers say how I could do better if only I would make an effort. And it beats sitting in class with Anna, avoiding her eyes and trying not to think of never touching her again.