Chapter 3 - Sleepwalk to Killer Rocks

When I think about everything that happened that summer, what I remember most is the first morning when I followed Morgan out of our house and down the street. I can watch it like a movie in my head.

I think about what might have happened if I’d woken him up or gone and got Mum and Dad instead of trying to work it out myself. I think about what would have happened if Morgan had gone to the Gold Coast with his mum and Paul instead of coming to Goolies with us. But now I know that no one could have stopped what was happening except Morgan. And he hadn’t wanted it to stop.

That summer, I, Shannon Michael Delaney, lost my best friend, Morgan Aaron Keane. Not because he moved to another state or another country, not because he decided he didn’t like me any more. And not because he drowned, which is what it says in the official police report.

That first morning, when I followed Morgan out of the house and down the road, if anyone had seen us they would have thought we were crazy. There we were, both still in our boxers and t-shirts, walking down the street in the half dark. Usually Morgan was a slow walker. He liked to wander around and look at things. But that morning he strode down the street with his chest out and arms swinging while I scuttled along about ten metres behind him, running a few steps then stopping and hiding behind a bin or a tree. I felt like I’d landed in the middle of an old Bugs Bunny cartoon.

I thought Morgan was sleepwalking. I’d seen on a TV show that if you wake up a sleepwalker you might give them a heart attack or brain damage so I didn’t stop him. I did think it was strange he was going so far, but on the TV show they’d said sleepwalkers could do all sorts of weird stuff. So I kept following, hoping he’d wake up soon and we could go home.

Morgan headed towards the beach and then turned up the Esplanade, down past the shops, past the construction site, past the foreshore camping area and past the snake-infested bushland reserve. He kept walking and I scuttled along behind him like a sand-crab, keeping quiet and out of his sight. He seemed to know exactly where he was going.

We’d been walking for almost twenty minutes. I started to think that Morgan wasn’t asleep at all. Maybe this was his idea of a joke and he would turn around any second now and yell out sucked in!

Suddenly Morgan turned left. I stopped dead in the middle of the road. He was heading for Killer Rocks.

Killer Rocks was the local name for a piece of coastline, about half a kilometre from Goolies Beach, which jutted straight out into the ocean. No one swam there; not even the surf lifesavers would go near the place.

Three years ago two men died at the rocks. They were fishing off the edge near the point when a huge wave washed them into the ocean. And last year some moron tried to surf there: his board got smashed into a thousand pieces after five minutes and he ended up in hospital with about fifteen broken bones.

The water was ten metres deep straight off the edge and the waves crashed against the rocks like a wrestler slamming onto the canvas during a grudge match. Killer Rocks was no place for humans.

And my best friend Morgan, who could barely swim the length of a twenty-five metre pool, marched across the rocks and towards the water.

‘Morgan stop!’ I ran across the rocks after him. ‘Stop, you idiot! What are you doing?’

I twisted my foot on a rock and fell. My heart pounded in my chest as I scrambled to my feet and tried to catch up to him. My legs felt like lead. It was like in those dreams when someone is chasing you and you’re trying to run away but your legs won’t move.

‘Morgan! I screamed out again.

But it was useless; he couldn’t hear me against the noise of the waves smashing into the rocks.

Morgan stood at the edge, getting soaked by the waves as they pounded against the rocks. He took off his shirt and boxers. It was like watching a horror movie in slow motion: Morgan getting ready to jump in and me trying to get to him to stop him.

I was only a half a metre behind him. I reached out and grabbed his leg but his skin was slippery from the spray.

He jumped.

‘Morgan!’ I screamed into the waves.

Wave spray splashed my face as I scrambled to the edge of the rocks on my hands and knees and looked down into swirling ocean, screaming his name, scanning for a sign of him. But I didn’t know what I would do if I saw him. If I jumped in to save him we’d probably both be dead. But how could I leave my best friend to drown?

I lay down and gripped the edge of the rocks with my hands. Water spewed up into my eyes. I could barely see but I still thought maybe I could save him. Then I heard a huge roar like a passenger plane taking off across the ocean. Suddenly I was staring into the massive open jaws of a white pointer shark.

I stared into that cave-like mouth and knew that the creature he loved most in the world had killed my best friend.

Then I heard Morgan screaming my name. My guts came up into my throat. I felt like I was going to throw up everything I’d ever eaten. I thought, he’s not dead: the shark has ripped off his legs and is coming back for more.

I had to look into the water to see what was left of him. I didn’t want him to think he was alone when he died. My legs shook so much I could hardly stand up but I made myself do it. My eyes squeezed themselves shut. I forced them open again.

The shark was gone. In its place was Morgan’s pale face and grey eyes staring up at me like a mask. He could barely keep his head above the waves as he reached his arms out to me. I lay down on my stomach and anchored myself. As I reached out my hands to pull him up a thought flashed through my brain: how much of him is left?

Morgan was panicking. He struggled against the waves and against me but I was a lot heavier. I gripped him under his arms and reeled him in.

Morgan collapsed on the rocks. His face was going blue. I rolled him on his side and straight away he threw up a couple of litres of salt water.

‘Are you okay? I thought you were dead. Are you okay?’

He rolled over onto his back. He looked like a wrestler down for the count for the last time, his face grey, eyes closed and rib cage heaving as he took in huge gulps of air. But he still had all his body parts and I couldn’t see any blood. He’d escaped from the shark’s jaws without a scratch.

‘Man, you are so lucky! I thought you were dead. Where did that shark come from? I’ve never heard of sharks being seen anywhere around here.
‘And where did it go? One second I was staring at white death. Then it was gone. How many people escape from a shark like that? Maybe you’re right, maybe they’re not man-eaters. Maybe…’

I stared out at the empty ocean. ‘Do you think maybe the shark left you alone because it somehow knew you liked sharks?’

Morgan didn’t answer. His eyes looked sleepy and had a big stupid grin on his face, like he’d only half woken from a fantastic dream.

‘It’s unbelievable. A shark attacks you and you get away without a scratch. That’s got to be good enough to be in Guinness World Records!’

Morgan pushed himself up onto his elbows and gazed out at the ocean. He looked really weird.

‘Morgan. Are you okay?’
‘Yes.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes.’

His arms were shaking as he pushed himself up to his feet. He stumbled then stood up straight. When he spoke his voice sounded like it came from the depths of an ancient cave.

‘That was awesome. Think I’ll go again.’

Chapter 2 - The nightmare begins

‘Will you boys get out of this house!’
Mum was angry. It was partly our fault. We’d been doing our fair share of whingeing during the day. But what else were we expected to do?
We went to the beach with no waves.
We went to the shops.
We even took Gracie down to the playground and pushed her on the swing. She acts like such a baby even though she’s nearly ten.
‘Come on,’ I said to Morgan. ‘Mum’s going to explode if we don’t get out of here. Let’s go to the video shop and see if they’ve got anything worth watching.’
I was being hopeful. The Goolies Beach video shop still had Terminator 2 on its latest release shelf. And as Mum pointed out every year, they had a great collection of musicals.
‘Where are you boys going?’
‘You told us to get out of the house.’
‘I still want to know where you’re going. You can’t just wander off anywhere you feel like.’
It drove me crazy when Mum was like this. Get out of the house, where are you going, what time will you be back, who will you be seeing.
‘We’re going to the video shop.’
‘Good. Take Grace with you.’
‘What?’
Morgan and I rolled our eyes at each other.
‘Don’t roll your eyes at me. Take your sister. And see if they’ve got The Sound of Music.’
‘Yes, Mum.’
‘And Shannon, if they’ve got it, get it.’
‘Yes, Mum.’

‘I’ve got my DVDs.’
‘Good on ya, Grace. Now go and find The Sound of Music for Mum.’
‘Why should I find it?’
I glared at Grace, wishing my eyes were laser beams that could turn her into a little pile of dust and I’d get a broom and a plastic bag and sweep her up and put her in a bin.
‘I’ll hold your videos, you go find The Sound of Music.’
Morgan looked at me over the top of the shelves.
‘Find anything yet?’
‘No.’
The situation at the video shop was worse than bad. Just about every good movie had been rented out. Not that there were many to start with.
‘What about this?’ Morgan held up the Alien trilogy. ‘I’ve never seen the first one.’
‘That’s because it was made in the 1950s or something.’
Morgan squinted at the video cover. ‘Looks like 1970 something, I think. It’s supposed to be pretty good.’
‘Okay. There’s nothing much else here.’ I held out my arms. ‘Put it on the pile.’
‘I got Jaws as well’
‘Jaws? Not again.’
Morgan had watched Jaws at least three million times and made me sit through it about a hundred times.
‘You and your shark obsession.’
‘It’s not a shark obsession. It’s a white pointer obsession.’
‘Whatever. Let’s get out of here before Grace finds the copy of that dumb doll movie I hid in the drama section.’

Alien turned out to be a great movie, even if it was old. Mum let me and Morgan stay up late to watch it. It was nearly 1am by the time we got to bed. I felt like I’d only been asleep for five minutes when I woke up but the clock said 4.30.
I turned on my side and tried to go back to sleep but my eyes wanted to stay open. Morgan was asleep, lying on his back with his skinny arms hanging over the side of the bed. Then he started to whimper.
Another nightmare. I sat up and watched. It was like a horror movie, when half of you wanted to watch and the other half didn’t and you spread your fingers over your face so you could still see part of the screen to make sure you didn’t miss out on a good bit.
Morgan’s body jerked and jumped. The noises got louder. It sounded like someone was trying to strangle him.
Suddenly he sat straight up in bed.
‘Morgan?’ I whispered, ‘Morgan, are you okay?’
I squinted across the dark room and looked at his face. His eyes were open and he was looking straight ahead. He had a weird smile on his face.
‘Morgan? Can you hear me?’
I spoke a bit louder but he still looked straight ahead. I wondered if I should go and get Mum or Dad. Morgan looked so freaky. I thought maybe this time there was really something wrong with him.
Then he got out of bed and walked out the bedroom door.

Chapter 1 - The World's Crappiest Beach

It was the noises that woke me up. Noises like someone was being strangled under water. Except they were in my room. I sat up and looked at Morgan. The noises were coming from him. He was having a nightmare.

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen Morgan have a nightmare. He had one almost every time he slept over at my place and he slept over a lot. But this was the worst one I’d seen.

Morgan thrashed from side to side, his long body packed tight like a ball with his skinny arms wrapped around himself. His eyes were scrunched up, his mouth was twisted like an Olympic weightlifter going for a world record and his tongue stuck right out of his mouth. It looked like an alien was trying to turn him inside out.

Once I’d asked him what they were about. He told me that they were always the same. In the dream he was deep underwater. The water was dark and thick and he could barely see but he could breathe. Sometimes he’d even start to like it a bit but then he’d feel like his body was being ripped apart from the inside, and in the dream he’d wrap his arms around himself and try to stop whatever it was that was trying to come out. Then the nightmare would end.

When he first told me about the nightmares I thought maybe he had them because he hated the water. Morgan was a bad swimmer: he couldn’t swim twenty-five metres in a pool without swallowing a couple of litres of water. But Morgan said he felt okay about the water in the dream. It was the pain he couldn’t stand.

The clock radio said 5am. Soon Mum would come in to do her wake up call. Dad wanted to leave early so we’d miss the holiday traffic. I hoped Morgan’s nightmare would be over before she came in. I didn’t know then that the real nightmare was about to begin.

‘Here we are kids. Goolies, Australia’s safest family beach.’

Every summer when we arrived Mum read that stupid sign. I hated Goolies Beach. When I was a little kid it was okay. But now I was nearly thirteen years old and Goolies was just boring. The only half-okay thing about the place was the carnival.

At least this year I had Morgan for company. His mum, Anna, was dumping him so she could go to the Gold Coast with her boyfriend. And because Anna was the only family Morgan had, that meant he had to come with my family to Goolies Beach. But it still sucked. I mean, instead of Morgan coming on our boring holiday, why weren’t we going with Anna and Paul to the Gold Coast? It wasn’t fair.

I looked at Morgan and rolled my eyes. ‘It should say “the world’s crappiest beach”,’ I whispered.
‘Mum, Shannon said crap.’

My little sister Grace. Not only did I have to suffer the summer holidays at Goolies, but I had to do it in the presence of the brattiest little sister in the known universe.

Mum turned around and gave me her Don’t use that language you know I don’t like it look. My mum had a whole heap of looks. Over the years I’d learnt what every one of them meant. Sometimes I thought I’d rather have the lecture.

We drove slowly down the esplanade. There were people everywhere, wandering across the road, eating ice creams, carrying beach umbrellas and chairs and eskys.

‘Carnival coming up kids,’ said mum, ‘right around this…’
I wound down the window and stuck my head out.
‘What?’ I yelled. This couldn’t be happening. It was worse than any nightmare.
‘What’s going on?’ Morgan leaned across and looked out my window.

Where the carnival should have been, where the dodgem cars and Hurricane and Breakdance should have been, were a couple of dozers, a crane and a whole heap of building workers. Plus a big sign.

Exciting new shops opening here soon, it said.

Our chances of having any fun on this holiday were now officially zero.