Alex Garland - The Beach

He glared at me. 'Well I know that now! But I thought... I thought squid were like jellyfish. They just floated around and... and its arms looked like they were moving...'

'So it was a mistake. It wasn't your fault.'

'Yes, Rich. That's right. It was Jean's fault.' He paused to punch the sand between his legs. 'Of course it was my fucking fault! Jesus !

'OK... it was your fault, but you shouldn't...'

'Rich,' he interrupted. 'Please.'

I shrugged and looked away. Across the lagoon, the moonlight was catching the jagged fissure that ran down the cliffs to the coral garden. 'Kapow,' I said quietly.

Keaty leant forward. 'What?'

'Kapow.'

'...Why?'

'Just because that's the sound lightning makes.' I pointed at the fissure. 'See?'

Bedlam

I only stayed with Keaty a short while because I wanted to check on Étienne and Françoise. He wouldn't come with me because he said he wasn't ready to face people yet, the poor guy. It was rough to have fought for so long to get on to the fishing detail and then to have been responsible for such a fuck-up. He felt especially guilty that he'd been one of the few unaffected by the squid. I tried to tell him not to be so daft because he could hardly blame himself for having a good immune system, but it didn't do any good.

When I saw what was happening inside the longhouse, I was glad Keaty had decided to stay behind. The scene inside would only have made him feel worse. I'd had no idea that the effects of the food poisoning had been so severe, and actually I doubted Keaty had realized either, or he'd have been back at the camp helping.

Running all the way down the centre of the room were candles, placed there, I guessed, to keep them from being kicked over by the writhing figures on the beds. Through the burning-wax fumes there was the sour smell of vomit. Everybody was moaning — probably not constantly, but there were enough of them to overlap and keep the noise at a steady level — and everybody seemed to have reverted to their own language. Picking out recognizable words in the meaningless babble made everything all the more surreal. People wanted water or the sick to be wiped off their chests. When I passed Jesse he lunged for my foot and asked me to carry him to the bathroom hut. 'I've got shit all over my fucking legs!' he gasped incredulously. 'All over! Look!'

I spotted Cassie and Moshe darting between the beds, hopelesslytrying to attend to all the different requests. When Cassie saw me she made a despairing motion with her arms and said, 'Are they dying?'

I shook my head.

'How do you know, Richard?'

'They're not dying.'

'How do you know ?'

'I don't.' I shook my head again. 'Jesse's calling for you.'

Cassie ran to check on her boyfriend and I continued down the longhouse towards Françoise and Étienne.

Françoise was the worst off — I think. Étienne was asleep, so I suppose he might have been unconscious, but he was breathing steadily and his forehead didn't feel too hot. Françoise, however, was awake and in a great deal of pain. The cramps seemed to come in regular waves about sixty seconds apart. She didn't cry out like everybody else but she bit her bottom lip, and all over her stomach were marks from where she'd been digging her fingernails.

'Stop doing that,' I said firmly, after she'd nearly drawn blood from biting so hard.

She looked at me through dull eyes.' ...Richard?'

'Yes. You're chewing your mouth to pieces... You shouldn't.'

'It hurts.'

'I can see, but... Here.' I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cigarettes. Then I ripped off the top of the box and pressed it flat. 'You can bite on that instead.'

'It still hurts.'

I smoothed her damp hair away from her face. 'I know it does, but this way you get to keep your lips.'

'Oh.' She managed to look faintly amused. She might even have managed a smile if another pain-wave hadn't come.

'What is happening, Richard?' she asked, when her muscles had relaxed.

'You've got food poisoning.'

'I mean, what is happening now?'

'Well...' I looked down the longhouse. I wasn't sure how toanswer in case I frightened her. 'People are chucking up, and... Moshe and Cassie are here...'

'Do you think this is serious for us?'

'No, no,' I replied, laughing encouragingly. 'You'll all be much better tomorrow. You'll all be fine.'

'Richard...'

'Uh-huh?'

'When Étienne and I were in Sumatra, someone died from eating bad shellfish.'

I nodded slowly. 'Yes, but they probably ate the whole thing. You would have only had a tiny little bit, so you'll be OK.'

'Really?'

'Sure.'

She sighed. 'Good... Richard, I need some water... Please will you bring me some?'

'Of course. I'll be back in two minutes.'

As I stood up, the cramps came back again. I watched her for a moment, uncertain whether I should go or wait with her until the pain had passed, then I jogged down the longhouse, ignoring the pleas I passed on the way.

Incubus

Unexpectedly, I found Jed sitting outside the kitchen hut, eating plain rice with his Maglite up-ended in front of him like an electric candle. He held out his bowl as I approached and mumbled, 'You should eat,' spraying a fan of white flecks into the light.

'I'm not hungry. Have you seen inside the longhouse?'

He swallowed. 'Stuck my head round the door, saw enough not to go in. Got plenty to deal with in the tents.'

'What's happening in the tents?'

'Same as the longhouse. The Swedes seem OK, but the others are fucked.'

'Are you worried?'

'Are you?'

'I'm not sure. Françoise said people can die from this stuff.'

'Mmm. They can.' He took another mouthful and chewed carefully. 'We need to keep them tanked up with loads of water. Can't let them get dehydrated. And we need to keep ourselves fit so we can look after them. That's why you should eat some food. You haven't eaten since this morning.'

'Later,' I said, thinking of Françoise, and scooped a pitcher into the drinking-water barrel. 'And if the Swedes are OK, then tell them to come and help.'

Jed nodded, his cheeks too puffed up to speak, and I set off back across the clearing.

Back inside the longhouse, Bugs was metaphorically and literally losing his shit. He was squatting alongside the line of candles, eyesbulging like cue-balls, whilst a pool of faeces collected around his feet. Moshe was standing a few feet away, gagging, and when he saw me he hurriedly moved away, as if having seen Bugs I'd been tagged with the responsibility of dealing with him.

Bugs groaned. A string of drool looped out of his mouth and swung crazily from his chin. 'Richard,' he spluttered. 'Get me outside.'

I looked around. Cassie was several beds away and Moshe was bent over one of the Yugoslavian girls. 'I'm in a hurry,' I replied, covering my nose and mouth with the crook of my arm.

'What?'

'I'm in a hurry. I've got to get this water to Françoise.'

'I've got to get outside! She can wait!'

I shook my head, then grimaced. The smell was so bad it was making me feel giddy.

'She already has waited,' I said.

His face contorted as though he was going to yell at me. I looked at him impassively while he held the expression, then he gurgled and another stream of shit splashed on to the ground. 'No!' he wailed, then his legs buckled and he slipped backwards.

I took a step sideways to keep clear of the spreading dark puddle. 'Jesus, Bugs. Can't you hold on?'

Bugs whimpered and doubled up into the foetal position, tried to straighten, and doubled up again.

I continued watching him, still breathing into my elbow though it did nothing to block the stench. The giddy feeling was getting stronger, mixing with intense rushes of irritation. It seemed to me, through the pulse that had developed behind my eyes, that there was something self-indulgent about his debasement. How could he not have had the strength to drag himself to the door? He'd distracted me from bringing the water to Françoise, and he was making a terrible mess that someone else would have to clean up. I remembered his stoicism when he'd bashed his leg, and the memory nearly made me laugh out loud.