by Amy Andrews
“How’s Ethan doing? He must be crazy busy?”
“Yeah. You know Eth. He’s taking it all in his stride but he’s worried, like we all are.”
She looked out at the black, cloudy stain on the horizon again. “How worried?”
“He asked Delia to take Connie to Brisbane.” Selena swallowed. That was big. “I heard about your story on the loss of native animals,” he said. “Everyone’s raving about it.”
“Thanks,” Selena smiled, grateful to Marcus for the distraction.
“Lot of media here,” he said, his gaze scanning the area where the journalists had been corralled.
“Yep,” she nodded.
“What’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?”
“The usual,” she shrugged. “Talking to as many people as we can. Waiting for official updates from the coordinator and for clearance to go into areas and talk to people affected by the fire.”
“Sounds like a lot of sitting around and waiting.”
“Yes. But they don’t want any of us rushing out being cowboys either. They’ve got enough to worry about without having to rescue inconsiderate journalists.”
“We’re going out with the fireys and police to a lot of the outer properties checking on people, if you fancy a ride along for something different? I could get you and your cameraman on with us? Kinda like a journo being embedded with an army unit. Without, you know, war. Although, the size of that fire … it is war out there.”
Selena blinked, overwhelmed at the offer. A chance to see and report on the damage first hand, to talk to people about their experiences, to watch some paramedics in action—that was an enormous opportunity.
“For real?”
He nodded. “Yep.”
Selena didn’t want to get her hopes up. It didn’t seem like something the brass would approve of. “Are you sure you’ll be able to get clearance for that?”
“Don’t see why not. They don’t let us go in anywhere that hasn’t been declared safe. You’ve got a lot of cred in regional areas compared to a lot of those fancy city journos, so I reckon they’d be amenable. Besides, I know a few people in high places, reckon I can pull some strings if needs be. Would the station mind?”
A thrill of excitement ran through her. “I can’t see why not.” The station would be ecstatic, especially if she reported news no-one else was reporting. For the station boffins it was all about the ratings.
“Alright then, hang ten.”
Selena called John, her cameraman, on her mobile. “We’re embedding with the paramedics. Get your stuff and meet me at the command centre.”
She’d just gotten off the phone to Grandy when Marcus returned ten minutes later. “You got yourself a ride,” he grinned.
* * *
What followed was one of the most raw and humbling experiences of Selena’s life. With the encroaching line of black smoke and the ever-present stench of it in the air she, John, Marcus and his partner, Brett, were in one of three ambulances that drove all around the district with police and fire officers, into areas assessed as being under no immediate threat, checking on the medical needs, welfare and readiness of residents. With communication channels affected by the fire it was the only way to reach some residents.
The stories Selena heard were of ordinary men and women, worried but courageous and stoic in the face of this ugly threat. There was indomitable spirit, but overwhelming emotion too—tears of gratitude for a community pulling together and empathy for those who’d already lost their homes. Also weary acceptance that they lived at the whim of nature in all its beauty and terror.
Real people facing real challenges—the dilemmas and risks—head on, and running the gamut of human emotions.
It was amazing television.
One of the communities they were directed to early that evening hadn’t been so lucky. It had come under ember attack late yesterday, and with the hot, dry winds firefighters had only been able to save one out of four properties. The others had lost their houses, their outbuildings, their machinery and most of their livestock. Talking to devastated farmers who’d spent the day walking their charred land, destroying severely injured sheep, was heartbreaking.
It had been a harrowing end to an overwhelming day and Selena was exhausted as they’d rolled back into town.
“Tomorrow?” Marcus asked as they dropped her and John at the command centre on their way back to the station to restock the rig.
“That change is supposed to come in overnight.” She hoped so, this fire had already taken too high a toll. “Hopefully there won’t be a fire to report on.”
“Hopefully,” he agreed. “We’ll still be going out though, doing what we did today, if you want to join us.”
“Thanks, that’d be great.”
The rig took off. Selena stayed up past midnight with her crew going through their footage from the day, getting a segment together for the early morning news. She’d reported in on Skype for the hourly updates during the day, but they’d filmed everywhere they’d been and she knew the images of outback Australian spirit that had been captured were going to be riveting viewing.
She got about six hours of sleep, waking the next morning with her nostrils still full of smoke but to much better news on the fire front. The forecast change had moved in overnight. The front had moved to within thirty kilometres of Jumbuck Springs, causing evacuation of properties in its path, and many of the residents had spent a sleepless night hosing their yards and roofs to protect from potential ember attack. But the wind had died right down around four in the morning, which had enabled containment lines to hold and large tracts of the fire to burn itself out.
There was even a possibility of some rain tomorrow.
No-one was declaring the emergency over, but it was under control finally. The danger to Jumbuck Springs and elsewhere had passed and the fact that there’d been no loss of life was a miracle.
The mood at the control centre was upbeat for the first time in days when Selena arrived. Fire control was working on replacing the crews that had spent many days going back again and again to fight the fire with only short breaks. Fresh crews would deal with spot fires, the hosing down, monitoring and mopping up.
Selena hoped that meant that Jarrod, wherever he was out there, got to come home soon. The need to see him, to assure herself that he really was okay, was almost overwhelming and she knew she wouldn’t—couldn’t—leave Jumbuck Springs until she’d seen him with her own two eyes.
They were out again at eight with Marcus and Brett. It was different today, heading mainly into areas that had been burnt out not that far out of town, being directed to check on various rural roads and properties in the worst-affected region. It was a more sombre morning, the extent of the smoking landscape mind-boggling.
They passed many a fire truck on the dirt roads, saw men and women in their grubby high-vis uniforms, helmets and big boots hosing down smoking stumps and burning tree trunks to prevent any possibility of fire breaking out again from embers should the wind pick up. Selena thanked God there were people like that in the word—people like Jarrod. The temperature today was thirty-six degrees—how much hotter must it be in all that get-up standing in the middle of still-smouldering earth?
“Hello,” Marcus said, half slowing down as they approached another engine on the side of the road around eleven o’clock. “I know that engine.”
Selena looked up from her iPad, where she was typing some notes. A yellow fire truck was parked to the side of the road with about a dozen firefighters heading out of the burnt-out bush towards it.
“Is it Jarrod’s?”
Marcus grinned at her as he pulled the rig up on the opposite side of the road. “If I’m not very much mistaken that’s him at the back there talking into the radio.”
Selena followed his finger. It was hard to tell in profile under the layers of his uniform and the full head protection of his helmet, but there was a familiar bulkiness to the body. She grinned back at Marcus.
“Thank you.”
She opened the door, her heart fluttering madly in her chest as she slid her feet to the ground. She was vaguely aware of the heavy aroma of smoke and the sound of rotor blades somewhere nearby, but all she could think about was Jarrod.
“Jarrod,” she called as she shut the door behind her, conscious that Marcus had climbed out of the rig and every one of the other firefighters was looking at her.
He turned, his lips pressed to the radio, the visor on his helmet up. She couldn’t hear what he was saying but she could see the green of his eyes standing out from the soot blackening his cheekbones and forehead.
He smiled and, before she could check it, she was running across the dirt road towards him. “Copy that,” he said into the radio, not taking his eyes off her as she covered the distance between them.
“Out,” he muttered into the walkie talkie, clipping it quickly to his belt as she launched herself at him. He let out a soft oomph as she crashed into him, pulling on his shoulders hard as she tried to wrap herself around him.
If she hadn’t been super aware of their audience she’d have crawled up him until her thighs were locked around his waist.
“Oh thank God,” she muttered, into his ear, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’ve been so worried about you.”
She clung to him for long moments before pulling back and searching his face like it had been another fifteen years since she’d last seen him, instead of a month. Sweat had turned the soot to grime under his eyes and he looked exhausted but good. Sooo good. She stood on tippy toes and kissed him without any second guessing or a care for how dirty he was.
He kissed her back to a cacophony of cat calls and wolf whistles, and that felt good too. Sooo good. Selena didn’t care what it meant in the grand scheme of their relationship. She was just pleased he hadn’t been swallowed up by that fiery beast he’d been battling for days now.
“I’ve been calling and calling you,” she said, pulling away again.
His face mirrored his surprise. “I only have a fire service phone on me,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Now I’ve seen you with my own two eyes I won’t worry.”
“I told you he was indestructible, didn’t I?” Marcus grinned, approaching them, and he and Jarrod embraced in that manly chest bump way, slapping each other on the back.
“What are you doing with him?” Jarrod asked. “You covering the fires?”
Selena nodded. It felt weird to be standing here, relief running through her veins like coolant, having just pashed him in front of everyone, talking about her work. “Me and my cameraman have been embedded with Marcus and Brett since yesterday.”
“How’s it been?” Jarrod asked, switching his attention to his brother.
“Okay yesterday. Bit grimmer today, moving into the more fire-affected areas.”
Jarrod nodded. “Yes.”
“I heard they’re sending out relief teams for you guys today,” Selena said.
“That’s right,” he confirmed. “Hoping to be home by this afternoon. I’d kill for a shower. My dirt has dirt.”
Selena didn’t blame him, he looked like a chimney sweep at the moment. If it were her, she’d want to soak in a bath for a week.
The radio at his belt fired to life. “Just a sec,” he said as he answered it. There was a lot of static and Selena only picked up every second word. Something about a burnt-out car somewhere, but Jarrod seemed to get it all.
“Roger that. Have Marcus and Brett here with me right now,” he said looking at his brother, who nodded. “We’ll investigate. Stand by for my sitrep. Out.”
“Was that Gilligan’s Road?” Marcus asked.
“Yep, it’s about ten clicks from here. You want to follow me in the rig just in case?”
“Sure.”
Jarrod turned to his crew who were taking a breather, drinking out of their canteens. “We’re heading to Gilligan’s Road.”
The firefighters nodded wearily and headed to their truck without a word. “Come on, Selena,” Marcus said. “We’ll follow.”
Jarrod looked at her. “I’ll see you there,” he said, giving her arm a squeeze before heading to his vehicle.
“Just in case what?” Selena asked as she climbed into the ambulance.
Marcus started the rig and slammed it into gear. “Just in case there’s someone alive inside.”
Chapter Seven
‡
Jarrod pulled the fire engine up ten minutes later, the badly burned car sitting in the middle of the dirt road just ahead.
Crap. It didn’t look good.
It was some kind of four-wheel drive vehicle, but there were no recognisable markings left on the car. The paintwork had blistered and bubbled until it was indiscernible, the number plate was unreadable, the tyres were blown and still smoking, the windscreen had shattered and the side mirrors were a melted mess down the doors.
The bush either side of the road was completely burned out and smouldering. The driver must have been trying to evacuate too late and got caught when thick smoke made navigation impossible.
Dread sat like a cold, slimy stone in his stomach. Goddamn it! Who would do something so insane?
But the bigger question was, was he/she/they still in the car. If they were, had they survived the blistering radiant heat and noxious fume build up? If they weren’t, where were they? Had they tried to flee the fire on foot? He looked around at the blackened land—they wouldn’t have been able to outrun it.
He shut his eyes at the thought. Christ. Bushfires were terrifying, roaring juggernauts. They sounded like a jet engine heading directly for you. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the horror of being trapped …
His crew was already disembarking, not needing any direction as they jumped down from the engine to attend to the hotspots still burning in the bush. Jarrod jumped down too. Marcus and Selena were already out of the ambulance. Brett was bringing the gurney out of the back just in case, but Jarrod had a very bad feeling.
A guy with a large television camera on his shoulder was already filming the scene.
“Holy shit,” Marcus said as he and Selena pulled up beside Jarrod. He had his emergency pack over his shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“Is it safe to check it out?” he asked.
Jarrod nodded. “Yeah. It’ll be hot though.” He pulled his thick gloves made from fire retardant material out of his pocket.
He looked at Selena. When she’d run toward him earlier his breath had seized in his lungs—she’d been a sight for very sore eyes. But he wished like hell she wasn’t here for this. There were some things a person was just better off not seeing.
“Stay here,” he said to her.
He expected her to argue, but she just said, “Okay.”
He and Marcus walked the ten metres to the car, Brett following behind with the gurney bumping along the dirt surface. There was no-one in the front but Jarrod’s worst suspicions were confirmed when they found two people, a man and a woman, lying huddled over each other on the back seat. They weren’t burned but that wasn’t necessarily what killed you in a fire of such magnitude.
They should have been in the foot wells below window level, they should have wet woollen blankets over their heads. It was possible to survive in a vehicle if all the necessary precautions were taken.
“Shit,” he grimaced, glancing at Marcus as he reached for the doorhandle with his gloved hands. He didn’t even want to think about who it could be. “You ready for this?”
Odds were whoever was in that vehicle they were going to know them.
Marcus nodded, as he snapped on a pair of gloves. “Let’s get it over with.”
Jarrod didn’t need to be a paramedic to know that they were dead, but it wasn’t his job to call it. He opened the door, noticing every internal surface had suffered some kind of scorching, as he stood aside for Marcus to do his thing. Check for pulse etc. A gruesome, shitty job he was pleased wasn’t his.
He
glanced at Selena, her face scrunched in concentration as she chewed on her bottom lip.
“Christ,” Marcus swore suddenly, “there’s a kid in here too.”
“What?” Jarrod stepped forward. Marcus was blocking most of the view but he could just make out another set of legs now. The couple had obviously huddled over top of their child trying to protect him or her from the shit storm that must have howled all around them.
“Oh, Jesus. No.” Marcus recoiled, stumbling backwards, running into Jarrod before spinning around and bending at the waist, his hands on his knees. “No, no, no.”
Jarrod put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and crouched beside him, his sense of dread tripling. “What?”
Marcus was white. His hands were shaking. “It’s Reggie Wyndham.”
No. Jarrod shut his eyes and bowed his head. The Wyndhams? “Christ,” he muttered, squeezing Marcus’s shoulder, a wellspring of sorrow and rage at the absolute futile waste of life twisting his gut.
Marcus stood abruptly. “I’m so sorry, man,” Jarrod said as he followed him up.
Not that Marcus seemed to hear. He just stared at the open door of the vehicle for long moments, his eyes bleak, his mouth a grim line. It was chilling to see Marcus the joker so gutted.
Marcus wiped the back of his gloved hand over his chin. “Bring the gurney,” he said to Brett and stalked to the vehicle.
“Marcus.” Jarrod held up a hand to Brett as he followed his brother. “You can’t move him.”
Marcus ignored him as he reached for Reggie. “I need to get him out.”
Jarrod placed a stilling hand on his brother’s arm. “We can’t. It’s a crime scene now.”
“What are they going to do?” Marcus demanded, turning his head until he was right up in Jarrod’s face. “Arrest the fucking bushfire?”
He leaned in again to haul Reggie out and Jarrod grabbed him around the shoulders to stop him. Marcus struggled against him, his breathing harsh. Jarrod had to use all his strength to contain him, his heart beating with exertion and breaking for the Wyndhams and Marcus.