The Virginity Mission Read online

  We walk all day, finding a rhythm that suits us all. As feared, I’m Tail-End Charlie but fortunately I’m not three miles behind everyone. Today is easy walking, not much different to bushwalking around Victoria. We reach the edge of the rainforest by nightfall, which is farther than our daily target.

  Our food choices are good, so far. We all agreed that food’s more important than excess shelter. We’ve skimped on sleeping arrangements, bringing just two tent flies and the outer covers to string over us rather than full tents. We each have sleeping bags. This first night determines we’re right. We need cover in the rainforest—cover from rain and also cold. It’s much cooler at altitude than at base camp. The tent flies are adequate but being on the end of the row of sleeping people is cold. On the first morning, we make a pact that no one will sleep on the edges for more than one night so a shifting sleeping allocation is devised. We’ll stick to this plan for the next six weeks.

  It takes a bit of getting used to new people; well, I take time to get to know others. Some people walk into a room and feel happy with the crowd. I feel uncomfortable until I find someone I connect with. If I don’t connect with anyone I drift. In this group I drift. Belinda’s a giggly fun girl but with her sights set on Ed. If I hang around with her too much, I cramp her style. Annie and I often walk together. Neither of us says much as we’re both quiet people. The boys jostle for position. Harry, being the youngest, has the lowest position and he can’t change that. Ed is challenged constantly by either Sam or Damien. The presence of Tim changes the dynamic subtly and there’s less jostling for top position. Maybe he subtly sides with Ed, or reinforces the leader’s authority, which means Sam and Damien have no chance of ousting the leader. I’m not sure how he influences it but the dynamic changes.

  The second day out, I’m surprisingly refreshed considering sleep was a while coming in the pitch darkness. When it’s totally dark, sounds are magnified. When you’re camping with strangers, every sound is foreign. Sam’s snoring is annoying, Belinda talks in her sleep and I’m not comfortable wedged between Sam and Harry. I’m not used to sharing my sleeping space so intimately and there’s something about being asleep next to others that stirs my sleep into restlessness. And then there’s Jason haunting my thoughts. Does he snore? Would he annoy me when he slept or would I curl into his body, soak up his warmth and feel a deep sated pleasure from being close to him? If I was near him, would I be able to sleep? The night brings me visions of him—his deep cocoa eyes, his moist kissed lips, the bulging muscles of his shoulders. It’s a wonder I was able to sleep at all.

  Throughout the day I mostly walk alone at the end. The rainforest is dense so it’s easy to follow where we’ve cut and pushed through it. Right now I’m walking with Tim and we’re out of the rainforest and on a dirt road, probably a logging track. He’s dropped back to keep me company I guess. The guys seem to take turns at doing that every few hours. It doesn’t annoy me too much but I wish I could keep up. I hope Tim doesn’t want too much of a conversation because I’m using all my breath to keep up the pace the others set.

  “How are you going, Mac?”

  “A bit slow, I’m afraid.” I puff my response between strides as we route march up the dirt road scaling a hill. This road is luxury walking so we’re pushing a good speed. According to the map we can follow the road before we cut back into the rainforest.

  “Just stick to the pace you can do. Don’t bust yourself.”

  “I know, I have weeks of this to survive.” I’m tired, trying not to be crabby, but I can’t help it. I know what I have to do to keep up and keep my dignity.

  “You’re doing okay. Don’t worry about it.” Tim’s pep talk is survivable. Not enough to embarrass me, just enough to keep me going. Jason would be the same. Well, from my chat with him I guess he is.

  We march in silence before I work up the breath to speak. “You don’t have to slow yourself down by waiting for me.”

  “I want to chat to you. I’m not slumming it at the end you know.” Tim grins. He has a face that breaks into a smile easily, like he’s meant to be happy.

  “Why’d you want to chat with me?” Stupid question. I know as soon as it’s out of my mouth but it slipped out before I could stop it.

  “You always this prickly?” Again, the smile softens the question and I don’t mind answering.

  “Only when I’m route marching up a whopping great hill, my calves screaming at me, and I’m dying of thirst.”

  “Then stop and we’ll drink.”

  I shake my head. “I might not start again. I’ll survive. Keep going. We’re bound to stop soon.”

  But Tim isn’t accepting my excuse. He wrestles my drink bottle from the side pouch of my backpack and thrusts it into my hands. I walk and sip the blessed water before screwing the cap back on. “Do you want some?” He shakes his head and returns my drink bottle to my pack.

  He slips his bottle from his belt and sips. “It’s much easier when you can grab it yourself.”

  I have one of those belts—at base camp. I didn’t think I’d need it.

  Somewhat replenished of moisture, if not breath, the conversation picks up. We have things in common, which surprises me. Of all the people to find the most connection with, I didn’t expect it to be the army guys. I don’t know why. I think it’s because of the way everyone avoids them, whispers about their reputations, and the warning to steer clear of them. I should never listen to rumours.

  Tim finally asks the question I’ve been expecting. “So what’s with you and Jason?”

  Luckily I’ve had time to plan my response. I pretend to be coolly unaffected. No fraternisation. “Nothing’s with us. We spoke a couple of times.”

  “He doesn’t speak to people as a rule.”

  I stop short. My legs will not respond to my brain. What does he mean, Jason doesn’t talk to people? Why has he gone out of his way to speak to me? He seemed more than capable of speaking when we chatted, unlike me.

  “Mac, you coming?” Tim’s about five paces ahead of me and turns with concern etched into his face. “What’s up?”

  I huff the five paces to catch up to him and keep walking, putting one foot in front of the other. “What do you mean he doesn’t speak to people?”

  “Just that. I’ve been in his company for almost a year now. He bitched unendingly about having to do this duty. He drilled us with the rules. And then I see him down the creek, sitting with you, chatting away as if you’re old friends. I’ve never seen him relax with a stranger.”

  “I’m not that strange.” I grin but Tim isn’t letting me fob him off.

  “He voluntarily spoke to you, didn’t he?”

  I shrug not quite sure what to say. He didn’t seem to have any trouble talking. I blush at the memory of my own problems with speaking. Maybe that’s why he spoke—he felt sorry for me. “Are you saying he’s shy?” I wonder if that’s the reason for Tim’s comment.

  Tim’s sudden burst of amusement makes me feel a fool. “You spent almost an hour talking to him and you’re asking me if he’s shy? Didn’t you get that impression?”

  I frown, thinking back to our conversation. “No. He ripped into me about being a wuss. Told me to get out here and bust a gut proving I could do this.”

  It’s Tim’s turn to stop in his tracks and look dumbfounded.

  “What?” I ask, twisting my head to make sure he starts walking again. He does.

  “Wow. You must have hit a raw nerve. He doesn’t dish out advice. How on earth did that come up?”

  “I don’t know.” I shrug and try to explain without showing my foolishness. “He asked how I was doing and caught me at a weak moment. I told him I wasn’t doing so well.” I look at Tim. “Did he ask you to keep an eye on me? Is that why you’re here?”

  “No. I wanted to come and meet you for myself. I wanted to find out how you knew him, see who you were.”

  I stare wide-eyed at him. “You’re protecting him?” Jason, to me, seems like the last man n
eeding protection. He’s the ultimate tough man. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to protect him, much less a guy younger and beneath his rank.

  “Nah, not protecting. Just checking things out.”

  “Why?”

  Tim gives a goofy kind of smile and a bit of a shrug. “Me and the guys are curious. Just wanted to know.”

  It sounds like there should be more of an explanation but coming around a bend in the road we spot the rest of the group standing on a side track, drink bottles in hand. Our conversation is cut short and we join them.

  Jason’s men are curious about him talking to me. Is it so unusual for him to speak to someone? Or is it just that I’m a young female? Or part of the expedition? Or Tim could be just extra nosy.

  I don’t get the chance to find out. In a group as small as the eight of us, I don’t get another opportunity to speak with Tim alone. After another night in the rainforest I’ve almost forgotten the conversation. Not that anything happens in the night, it’s just that other things use up my energy.

  Finding a campsite each night is exhausting. We have to find a suitable area and cut down small saplings to clear a space large enough for us. Then there’s water gathering, wood gathering, fire making, dinner preparations, and the constant stoking of the fire or drying wood. Surprisingly the evening preparations are jovial, unless you have to do the water trip. We always camp at the top of a hill to avoid crocodiles and, of course, the water’s at the bottom. So if you’re on water duty, you lug all your gear to the top, you grab all the wine bladders and water bottles, slide back down the hill, fill them and lug them all back up again. Some nights I questioned whether the need for water was important, but we never shirk the water task, it’s vital. I once tried filling the containers before I walked up the hill and lugging them along with my backpack…never again. The backpack weighs enough without the added weight of water.

  The three day hike stretches to a fourth day when we find a glorious waterfall. Tim goes back to camp to let them know we’re safe and close by. He’s been given three days leave and that’s all he’ll take. When he departs he says, “Don’t worry. I’ll report back that you’re safe.” Everyone thinks he’s being sweet, but the wink he gives me tells me that he’s reporting back not only to the expedition leaders but to Jason. A shiver runs through me. Will Jason care?

  Today is Christmas Day. We camped last night close to the top of the magnificent falls. As a present to ourselves, we’re staying here for the morning, swimming in the shallows above the waterfall before heading to base camp by mid morning. It’s warm and sunny—a perfect morning for lazing. The creek is wide and not overhung by rainforest, which is different to every creek we’ve seen in the last three days and we’ve seen enough of them on our odyssey. Here we can sun bathe, dry out and refresh.

  Another group has the same idea and there’s a party atmosphere. Christmas without wrapped presents but with fresh running water, sunshine and laughter. Gifts enough after three days without a bath!

  As much as I enjoy the sojourn at the falls, I’m itching to get back to camp. I’m trying to keep the Jason thing in perspective but the longer I’m away, the more I miss him. I don’t know him well enough for these feelings. I need the reality check of him not missing me, or not seeking me out. Or am I being too fatalistic? You should never become interested in someone and then have to leave. It causes too many jumbled emotions.

  We hike back to camp by midday and join the Christmas celebrations. Base camp is like a small town. There are about one hundred and twenty people in this village. We’ve a quartermaster tent filled with food and supplies, a doctor’s tent and makeshift hospital, latrine areas and bathing areas. Separate to all of this are the six army guys helping mainly with transportation. You’d think with so many people you’d be able to find time to go speak with someone alone but it’s difficult. More than difficult. It’s impossible.

  If others are around Jason I don’t stop. I figure he’s busy and I don’t want to bother him. I detour past the army area about a hundred times through the day no matter where I’m heading. I want to wish him a Merry Christmas and tell him I made it, but he’s never alone. Seeing me, he’s probably worked out that I survived the trip. And I know Tim has told him. When I stopped to talk to Tim, he told me I should stay but I didn’t. Although the other army guys talk to me if they’re free, I feel out of place. Jason is effectively the army boss so he’s always with someone in charge of the expedition. I can’t be seen to be too friendly with him. I don’t want him in trouble because of me.

  If he wasn’t responding I wouldn’t keep coming over but he winks sometimes when he sees me. Sometimes he’ll give me one of those slow sexy smiles when he’s in a group and not talking. His gaze follows me, lingers on me and almost scalds me with its intensity. I blush so hard my skin burns. Once or twice he walks past me and brushes my arm or shoulder with his hand, arm or fingers. It’s enough to know he’s interested. I won’t do anything rash.

  If Mardi was here she’d walk right up and interrupt him. I’ve watched her do it to others and it always makes me cringe. I’m not like Mardi, I’m happy to take things slowly. I think he likes me but maybe it would be better if I was sure.

  CHAPTER 3

  The few days in base camp before our next trip are not much relief. I’m busy with preparations and constantly surrounded by people. I see Jason every day but rarely alone and even then it’s never for more than a few moments. We exchange the normal pleasantries, a few heated looks—well, I think his are, and I want mine to be—but that’s the extent of our interaction. It would be so much easier to like one of the guys in my group but they aren’t a patch on the Panther.

  Our next trip is for three weeks so we need many more supplies. The extra food requirement means we have to get rid of clothes, sleeping bags and other luxuries. We’ve a pretty good idea of what we require after the three day trip. We rationalise equipment and food and discard unnecessary clothing. Having a weight that’s easily carried has to be the priority. For my personal gear, I have the set of clothes I’m wearing, my drink bottles and belt, and a spare shirt, socks and underwear. I have a raincoat, camera, diary and pencils, pocket knife, spoon, mug and plate, toothbrush and sleeping sheet. We minimise our mess kit, taking a spoon to double as a fork, a pocket knife instead of any other knife, a mug that doubles as a bowl and a plate. Everything’s cut to the bare minimum. Food and equipment are shared amongst the group. The weight is more than I care to know; it’s a lot heavier than the three day pack. I can carry it and walk with it and that’s all I care about. The weight is determined by what you’re fit enough to carry. My pack is the lightest of my group but I’ve never carried one so heavy.

  The night before we’re to leave, I still haven’t found Jason alone. I want to find him, to be near him. I don’t exactly have anything to say and I’m not going to jump him. I want to, but I’m not that gutsy. I think he’s interested but I’ve never been the girl someone’s interested in. I’m the girl that guys hang around with until they find a girl to go home with. I don’t know why it happens, or what I do to cause it, but I’m definitely sex-repellent. Jason’s the best chance I’ve had of someone being interested in me. I have to ensure I’m not being deliberately off-putting.

  After dark, people settle down following our last camp meal and I roam over to the army area again. It isn’t that far from camp in the daylight but at night it seems miles away. I head towards the lights, through a stand of gums and shrubs. There’s the path into here that the vehicles follow but I want to be discreet. It isn’t officially banned but we’ve been asked not to go there at night and I’ve been obeying the directive, until tonight.

  When I get closer, the flickering flames of a roaring campfire light up the area. I can see people clearly but I doubt they’ll be able to see me in the trees and shadows. There are about a dozen girls around a large campfire with the army guys. I haven’t been over here in the evenings because of the rules. I didn’t want to be invadin
g their territory. How stupid of me. While I’ve been doing the right thing, other girls have been making sure the men aren’t lonely. Honestly, I’m a moron! Mardi will kill me when I tell her what an idiot I’ve been.

  It’s relaxed and cosy around the fire. No one looks at all worried about breaking any rules. The firelight flickers across faces and I recognise some of the girls. If I had known they were coming here, I could have come over with them. Maybe this standing on the periphery isn’t such a good idea.

  I turn away, disgusted at myself as shame burns in me. There’s no way on earth I can walk into that group, not with all those girls. Not this late. Not when I’m so desperate, pathetic, useless…

  I bite my lip while I fight self-recrimination. I haven’t taken life on, again. I try to make my legs walk away but they’re planted. I’m standing in the shadows. I can’t see everyone around the fire because of the trees but maybe if I stand here I’ll see Jason and seeing him might be enough. The army tents are beyond the fire a good fifty metres or so and a couple of lanterns distinguish the tents from the darkness. Stars dot the inky sky, yet there are no stars on the tents.

  “Still not taking hold of life?”

  I jump in the air, biting my lip to hold in my scream. The deep, familiar voice comes from behind and to my left. I turn towards it while dragging a rueful smile to my face. How is it that Jason calls me on my weakness without really knowing me?

  “Yep, that’s me. Chicken Shit.”

  “So, Ms Chicken Shit, what are you hanging around here for?”

  Good question. I’ll go for the amusing answer. “Private area over there.” I nod my head towards the campfire. “Been trying to get in for days. Didn’t want to intrude where I wasn’t meant to be.”