by Camryn Eyde
“Go get her, Mum,” Aaron said.
“No!” Sally yelled out, but it was too late. Justine was sprinting to the four-wheel drive in a desperate attempt to boldly rescue Aimee. Victorious, Justine made the car and locked the doors before Danny and Joey, who chased her, were able to reach her.
“Open the door!” Joey shouted.
Justine rolled the window down enough to shout through before she drove off, “Look after Aaron.”
“Dammit, Justine. Get out of the car!” Joey shouted as the vehicle began to move, Mitsy leaping into the back opportunistically. “No! Shit!” he yelled as the car vanished into dust.
“Oh, God. Danny,” Sally said, joining her husband and wrapping a hand around his waist.
Slinging an arm around her shoulder he said, “We need to think of the kids. I can’t lose them too.”
Sally looked up at her husband’s glassy eyes. His words were choked, heralding the rift that had occurred between them as they grew apart from his indiscretion. “No,” Sally whispered. “We can’t.”
Chapter Twenty
The airstrip. An abandoned clearing two hundred metres wide that sat adjacent to a sparsely vegetated holding paddock. It was perfect.
Driving the dozer to the southern side of the airstrip, Aimee cleared a frustratingly slow strip of grass, before returning along the one-kilometre length of the strip to add another cleared path.
“Now for the risky bit,” Aimee muttered to herself as she fished something out of the dozer cab. Thank goodness for smokers, she thought as she gripped the lighter and ran across to the grassy side of the strip. Bending down, she rolled the flint only to find a spark without flame. “Shit.” Shaking the lighter, she could feel the diminutive weight of gas inside it and tried again. Successful, she lit up the grass and was forced to jump back as the dry tinder took the flame hungrily. Running along the length of the strip, she lit spot fires as fast as she could before sprinting back to the dozer to watch.
“Come on. Come on. Come on,” she said in a chant. Slowly the small flames picked up and ran with the life they were given. Hot winds fuelled their paths and soon, tendrils of fire reached across the width of the airstrip, slowly building to a fiery crescendo. Reaching the strips of dirt carved out by the bulldozer, the flames halted and seemed to growl at the restriction of fuel. Vainly trying to leap the six-metre gap, the flame was too cold and too low to jump across. Over an agonising sixty minutes, while widening the gap as much as she could, Aimee cheered as the fire died away, leaving behind nothing but charcoal and ash. Leaving behind nothing that could burn.
She blew out a breath of air. Now to extend the firebreak, she thought as she looked to the north. In the ninety minutes since she left the fire front, it had steadily moved closer and closer. Better move quickly. Starting up the dozer, briefly concerned at the lack of fuel in its tank, she made for the western end of the airstrip. Realising she had been so focused on her plan, that she was yet to radio in, she glanced at the radio and noticed its display was dull. Frowning, she tapped the top of it and flicked a few switches. It crackled to life. Shit, how long was that off?
Picking up the mike, she was about to talk into it when it burst into life with Joey’s voice.
“Justine! Come in! Damn it, I know you can hear me. Where are you?”
Blood froze in Aimee’s veins.
“Joey, come back.”
“Aimee? Where the hell are you?”
“Never mind that. What’s going on? Where is Justine?”
“I’m right here,” came her voice through the radio.
“Oh, thank God,” Aimee muttered to herself.
“Justine is looking for you,” Joey said.
“What!” she yelled into the mike. “Justine, where ever you are, head back now!” Aimee looked towards the north again and grimaced. It was a wall of thick, black smoke covering the entire horizon. Nothing stood a chance in front of that. Probably, not even this, Aimee thought, looking at her firebreak.
“Where are you?” Justine asked.
“I’m at the old airstrip. Where are you?”
There was a long pause before Justine said, “I don’t know.”
Aimee stilled and stared out of the dozer windscreen. Somewhere out there was the woman she loved with a force-ten disaster closing in on her. Closer still was her family and their home. The home that held all the memories of her parents and the life she had carved out with her siblings. A home that was going to burn. Her eyes flicked to the encroaching wall of smoke, flame and crackling carnage.
“Joey, get everyone out. We’ve lost.” There was no response. “Joey?”
“Copy that.”
Aimee shut her eyes and pressed the mike against her forehead. She couldn’t leave Justine somewhere in this disaster and save the homestead. She was no superhero. With a quick huff of air, she made her choice. Bringing the mike to her mouth again, she said, “Justine, head south, away from the flames. I’m coming to get you.”
“Aimee, no—” Aimee cut off the sound of her brother’s pleas with a flick of a switch and revved the dozer she was driving. Making a beeline for the homestead, she cursed the machine for its slow speed and ignored the heat building behind her.
***
Joey ran outside to the hurried evacuation of the property and personnel. One car was being loaded with vital records and computers, another with historic and personal memoirs, and the other was full of station staff.
“Head to Roper Creek. We’ll meet you at the oval,” Joey said to Mike in the driver’s seat.
“Will do, mate. You got everything under control here? We can—”
“It’s fine. Just get out of here while you can.” Joey banged the side of the four-wheel drive. “Go.”
Mike nodded once and accelerated, taking four people with him to safety.
Joey paused, gritting his teeth at the view to the north. Thick and black, the fire was only a couple of kilometres away now. Their only remaining choice was to flee. Nothing could contain the heat and raging chaos of what was coming. “Nothing but a god-damned miracle,” Joey muttered. He sprinted to Sally’s vehicle. “Got everyone?” he said, peering into the car to find three wide-eyed children. Robbie had his sister tucked against his side, and Aaron looked pale.
Sally nodded and took her brother by the crook of his arm, leading him away from the kids. “Did you reach Justine?”
Joey nodded slowly. “She’s lost.”
Sally shot a look at the back seat of her car and her hand covered her mouth.
Joey took his sister by the shoulders. “We found Aimee.” Sally’s eyes snapped back to him. “She’s going after Justine.”
“What? No!” Sally cut her eyes to the horizon. “It’s so close. She’s going to get herself killed!”
Joey squeezed her shoulders. “I need you to take the kids and Amber. Get out of here. Now.” Joey looked to the east. “Before the roads are cut off.”
Sally began shaking her head. “I’m not leaving you here. I’m not going to drive off without my family.”
“Yes. You are. You know you have to get the kids out.” Sally held his determined gaze for a long time, but Joey saw the give in them. “I’ll find Aimee and bring her out. I promise.” Sally’s eyes found Danny as he vainly pumped water over the roof of the house. “I’ll bring everyone out,” Joey said softly. “Somehow.”
Sally deflated. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
Standing up straight, she pursed her lips and strode off to the waiting car. “In that case. We’ll see you soon.”
Joey nodded. His eyes met Amber’s through the windscreen and held them as Sally accelerated sharply. Watching them leave through the gate, with one of the several horse floats in tow, took a significant weight from his shoulders. Now to achieve the impossible. He looked back at the smoke. How the hell was he supposed to find Aimee?
Joey blinked as something moved on the hill behind the homestead. Something big, yellow and slo
w. “Shit! Danny! The dozer!”
Danny whirled around, sending the hose offline and painting a wet mark across the grass beside the house. “What?”
Joey pointed. “Aimee’s bringing the bloody dozer!” Running over to the shed, Joey snatched up a motorbike and raced to his sister.
***
Aimee almost cheered at the sight of her brother careening out of the yards and across the few hundred metres separating her from her goal. Joey stopped the vehicle beside her in a plume of dust and Aimee jumped down from the machine. “I need that,” she said, pulling the bike from his grip.
“And I need that,” he said, pointing to the dozer.
“She’s at the old fort,” Aimee yelled as she approached.
Joey stared at her for a heartbeat. Aimee knew what he was thinking. It was close to the fire front. Joey snagged her arm. “Aims…”
“Save it for when I get back.”
“But—”
“Save it.” She squeezed her hand over her brother’s and gave him a smile. “I tried to make a firebreak at the old airstrip.” Joey nodded. “See you soon, Joe.”
Joey smiled. “Will do, Bug. Now go save the woman you love.”
Aimee’s face hardened with resolve. “Absolutely.”
Three minutes. That’s how long it took to get Skycatcher out of the horse float and climb on her back. The large, flighty horse was a reluctant rescue vehicle, but Aimee’s years of experience wrangled the unruly beast to her will. North-west she galloped bareback to the place she had Justine describe to her on the slow dozer ride back to the homestead. She had at least five minutes until she crested the ridge that would afford her a view towards the Old Fort. Gum trees – low scraggly ones – Justine had said. Cracking dirt that she could peel off in a palm-sized plate from the ground. Rocks that looked whiter than most. An abandoned platform in the trees. Aimee had almost passed out with relief when Justine described her location. The Old Fort was a small depression surrounded by a rocky outcrop. A place of imagination and play from her youth that was hard to reach in a conventional vehicle from the south, but was only a sedate twenty-minute ride away on horseback from the homestead. The small valley leading into the depression took a car through a circuitous route from the north. It appeared Justine had unwittingly driven into it as she tried to return to the homestead.
Blood roared in Aimee’s ears and her heart seemed to seize and pound simultaneously making her fists clench and her breathing jagged. Her teeth began to grind as her jaw tightened. Breaths now coming in short bursts through her nose. Panic had long passed for anger at her girlfriend’s foolishness. “Idiot!” Aimee screamed. You shouldn’t be out here. A breath. I’m not worth dying for.
She made the crest and fear nearly dropped her from the horse’s back. The rise wasn’t great, but it was enough to hide uncontrolled destruction from the homestead behind her. She could see the depression as the shadow of death loomed over it.
“No,” she gasped out before clicking her tongue and urging Skycatcher to speeds that she hadn’t reached in years. Ash rained down on her and the smoky wind whipped through her hair. Somewhere to her right, the edge of the airstrip was engulfed in flames. To a deity she had ignored for years, Aimee prayed with every atom in her soul that the firebreak would buy her time to collect Justine and return to the homestead. She added an extra prayer that her brother would get out before it was too late.
She lost sight of the southern outcrops of the Old Fort as she descended from the rise through little gullies and washouts that marked an old creek bed. Thick bushes and long grass hindered Skycatcher’s progress, but Aimee pushed the horse through the discomfort. Branches that would soon provide fuel for the devil snagged and clawed at both woman and beast. With a hiss, the sting of a branch that tore at the flesh on her face was quickly pushed aside.
In a feat of horsemanship, Aimee and Skycatcher dodged and weaved the obstacles before them and burst through into woodland that provided them a clear shot to the outcrop. An outcrop now covered in flame.
“Hah! Hah!” Aimee yelled at Skycatcher urgently, kicking the horse hard in the sides. Skycatcher, who had responded to her urgency from the moment the woman climbed bareback onto her hide, lengthened his strides. The loud bite of her hooves hitting the rocky dirt was accompanied by the harsh snorts of air and foam exiting the horse’s mouth.
Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. Aimee chanted in her mind as flame ate more of the outcrop in its path south. Please. Please. Please.
Darkness blew over them as a gust of wind pushed thick, suffocating smoke over them. Spot fires burst around them and sharp whirlwinds of air blustered ash and ember through the air. Coughing, Aimee began to shout in long bellows. “Justine! Justine!” Weaving Skycatcher around the rocks and shrubs making up the bottom of the outcrop, she called again. “Justine!”
She heard a faint bark on the wind.
“Mitsy?”
“Aimee.”
Aimee froze as the faint sound of her name met her ears. “Justine!”
Narrowing her eyes and concentrating hard on anything but the roar of flame coming over the outcrop, she whipped her head around as another faint call reached her. Aimee gasped. To her left, Justine was sprinting away from the outcrop with her hands held over her head as if to protect it from the heat of flames cresting over the rocks behind her. Next to her was Mitsy with her ears laid back flat, but refusing to leave Justine’s side.
Screaming Justine’s name again, Aimee kicked Skycatcher hard in the sides and urged her forward. It was fifty metres at most, but it was the longest distance Aimee had ever crossed. Spot fires burst around her as the air crackled with heat, drying and combusting anything flammable with a mere ember and a breath of wind. The roaring storm that was the flame front intensifying the closer she got to Justine. Reaching out a hand, she screamed at the woman, “Reach out to me!”
Justine did, and with barely a falter in Skycatcher’s step, Aimee hooked Justine under the arm as the woman clutched at her. The momentum almost dragged them both from the horse, but using every ounce of strength she had, Aimee gripped Skycatcher’s back with her knees and felt her shoulder pop as she reefed Justine behind her.
“Hold on to me,” she cried unnecessarily as they galloped away from the encroaching flame. “Mitsy, come!” Outpacing the disaster, they soon broke free of the dense blanket of smoke and headed for the homestead.
The thick vegetation and uneven ground at the bottom of the next rise finally beat Skycatcher. Stumbling as they scraped their way through bushes and gullies, the horse fell forward, launching her riders into a bush. Aimee hit the tree base hard and felt the spike of a dry branch snap deep into her skin as her thigh impacted the wood. Somewhere on the other side of the spindly tree, she heard Justine hit the ground with a dull thud and a grunt of air.
“Justine?” she said through gritted teeth. Whatever had hit her leg burned pain through her entire side.
Coughing proceeded Justine’s words. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”
Aimee nodded to herself and shutting her eyes tight. She refused to look at the damage she knew she’d suffered.
“Aimee?”
“I’m fine,” she said, getting to all fours. Just. Growling at the pain in her leg, she made to stand only to find she had little to no movement in her right leg. Mitsy licked at her face.
Arms were quickly touching her, assessing the truth. “Oh, Aimee,” Justine whispered when she discovered the butt of the branch sticking from the side of Aimee’s thigh.
“Skycatcher?” Aimee said on a groan, feeling her stomach tip when she saw the wood in her leg.
“I don’t know.” Looking around, they saw no sign of the spooked horse. “Come on,” Justine said, hooking an arm under Aimee’s. “We can’t stay here.”
They looked in unison to the fire front boring down on them. Could they even out-run that? Aimee thought to herself. “No,” she said, answering her own question. “You run back to the
homestead,” she said, trying to fend off Justine’s assistance.
“What? No! Are you insane?”
“Justine, we have no choice. We can’t beat this, but you can. Run, Justine!” Aimee gave the woman a shove and stumbled back, nearly landing in an unbalanced heap in the dirt.
“Damn it, Aimee. We don’t have time for this.”
“Exactly. Now get a move on! Run. Get a bike, come back for me, whatever, just get the hell out of here already!”
“No!” Justine’s face contorted into something half-furious, half-devastated. “You don’t get to make this decision on your own. You have no right to say who gets to live and who gets to die.”
“I’m injured.”
“So start hopping.” Justine swooped against Aimee’s side and began tugging her along. “Like it or not, I’m not leaving you here. Now, quit arguing with me!”
Mitsy barked her agreement.
Given little choice but to hop furiously or land face-first in the dirt, Aimee hopped.
“You’re a bloody martyr, did you know that?” Justine snapped.
Aimee scoffed and hopped, scowling at the pain each movement created. It was intense, relentless and like a hot coal burning through her. “This from the…woman that…drove into a fire to…find me.”
“You gave me no choice.”
“Aaron should be your choice, not…not me.”
“He was my choice, but he’s safe. You weren’t.”
They reached the bottom of the crest Aimee had surveyed the carnage from earlier. Hopping up an incline was deadening her other leg, and soon she involuntarily hit the ground and winced at the pain shooting through her knees from the contact.