I might have thought it was a non sequitur, except for the sudden passion in her voice. I got the impression that Amy Nesmith wasn’t just about saving the environment, but maybe about saving the fishermen too—and not just from hard work.
In the sudden tension in the shed, I saw that Elias Dinsmore had put his rake down, and his murderous expression was now fixed on Amy. And was maybe even slightly less murderous? It was hard to tell.
I nodded. “Yeah, it can’t be an easy job.”
Amy let out a slow breath and squared her shoulders. “Anyway, that’s what we’re doing in here. It’s a bit of a mess at the moment, but hopefully soon we’ll be properly set up and start to turn a profit, and I can actually hire a few more people.”
We talked for a little longer, mostly about how gorgeous the island was, and how paradise was one thing, but so was the ability to order takeaway. I figured that Amy knew exactly how isolated I was, so she let me prattle on for a bit before she had to go and deal with something fish-related and I continued my tour of the island.
Outside of the village, there wasn’t a lot to see. Oh, there were plenty of stunning vistas—views swallowed up by a glittering ocean that went on forever—but not too much else, apart from wandering goats. I saw a few more cottages dotted around the place, and wondered how long it’d be before I knew who lived there. More importantly, I wondered if there was a decent topographical map of Dauntless somewhere in a government database that I could download and print out, and add people’s houses to. There weren’t any streets or street names here, so I’d need to learn who lived where if anyone ever needed me, though I honestly couldn’t imagine anyone on Dauntless would call the police if they needed assistance. They’d probably rather die. Literally.
The dirt bike bounced along a track that I hoped would eventually lead back to the village.
In Sydney, I’d done all my community outreach at places like the old people’s home and local schools, but Dauntless didn’t have either. The only instance I’d seen so far of the community getting together was the party I’d heard on Saturday night—and I hadn’t been invited.
The path crested a hill, and the village appeared below me, drowned in sunlight. I pulled up and drank it in.
It’s fucking gorgeous. Shame about the people.
But even as I thought it, I thought of Natty, and the way he’d cooked lunch for me. The way he’d teased me about my squeamishness over the crab. The way his eyes lit up when he called me “copper”—there might have been an insult in there first, but it was pretty clear there wasn’t one now.
The path met one of the wider tracks about halfway down the hill, and then turned into a dirt street by the time I reached the houses at the edge of the village. I rode along the harbourside slowly, scattering seagulls. The fishing boats were coming in already; from what Amy had told me, they fished until they filled their nets, then took their catch to Newcastle. Sometimes they were back in the afternoon, and sometimes they stayed out all night. And sometimes, Amy had hinted, they didn’t come home at all.
I pulled the bike in at the station and wheeled it around the back. I was disappointed to see Natty had left, but the path hacked through to the rickety old shed told me he’d worked for a while. There was also a growing pile of branches in the middle of the yard that looked like he was building the world’s biggest bonfire.
Which... was he? I hoped not. What the hell were the local laws on Dauntless when it came to shit like that, and was I in charge of them? The local council seemed to be just Red Joe? I really needed to schedule a weekly meeting with him to iron those sorts of things out before they arose. I’d put it on my list right under “Community Outreach.” I needed something to add to my timesheets so my bosses on the mainland didn’t think I was doing sweet fuck all. Which, to be fair to them, I pretty much had been so far. It was clear that the people of Dauntless weren’t going to come to me, so I was going to have to do more to go to them, whether they liked it or not.
I left the bike in the shed, and then unlocked the back of the station and went into the kitchen to grab a water from the fridge. The cat followed me in, and I gave her the leftover sardines. Once I sorted out a monthly grocery delivery with the barge company, Frank was going to be disappointed when she was put onto cat food instead.
I went into my office and checked my emails. Internet service was terrible here. My emails were full of boxes with red crosses in them that indicated pictures that wouldn’t download. I deleted most of the emails since they weren’t relevant to me or to Dauntless. Unless that wanted person from Newcastle was an excellent swimmer, we’d be okay.
As dusk fell, I heard the sounds of the first boats unloading down at the jetty, so I walked down there. The statue of Josiah Nesmith stared out at the horizon from his plinth. There was a seagull sitting on his head.
I passed a few people on my way down. I smiled and said hello; they didn’t.
I recognised a guy I’d seen a few times walking past my place, and figured it must be Natty’s brother—there weren’t too many houses you got to by turning off beside the police station. He didn’t look much like Natty. He was about the same height, but he was broader. He had dark blond hair, stubble, and furrows in his brow that seemed to be a fixture of every Dauntless Islander—at least when they caught me looking. He had a dripping bag slung over his shoulder that smelled like fish.
“Hi,” I said, and stuck my hand out. “Dominic Miller. I think we’re neighbours.”
He didn’t shake my hand. Inclined his chin a little though, so I decided to count that acknowledgement as a friendly overture. Something we could build on, you know?
It really wasn’t.
“Stay the hell away from my brother, copper,” he said, and strode past me.
It wasn’t as cute as when Natty said ‘copper.’ It wasn’t cute at all. It was downright hostile, and I laughed—at the absurdity of this whole situation, and at my own stupidity for thinking that Natty’s big brother would be any different to anyone else on Dauntless, just because Natty was.
He stopped walking, shoulders stiffening, and turned around and glared.
My body was definitely going to be found with forty-seven fishing knives protruding from it.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, still grinning, and even gave a little wave.
He glowered a moment longer and then strode away.
This fucking place.
I wandered back towards my house, drinking in the view. As I passed the museum, I saw Eddie leaving for the day. Hiccup darted out to meet me, and I remembered to lock my knees before she barrelled into me. Even love was threatening on Dauntless. I scratched her silky ears and she sat on my boot and beamed at me.
