by Tony Thomas
Brick made eye contact with Rita, gave a slight nod, and started to swing the gate wide. Rita wasted no time driving through the gate and continued down the track. The wheels had spun a little as she accelerated on the soft shoulder, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Brick quickly swung the gate shut. He looked around and tried to put the lock back on. The gate was a little out of whack and as he struggled with it he heard a loudspeaker in the distance coming closer. Brick edged back, getting out of sight from the road. He ducked into the bush by the side of the fire trail, but kept close enough to see what was happening. As he watched, a police car cruised slowly up the middle northbound lane of the highway. The policeman was talking over his PA as he drove.
‘The Princes Highway is closed. A curfew is in force. Please return to your homes immediately. There is no way past the road blocks. Please return to your homes.’
The policeman had his eyes on the traffic headed south. He didn’t react to Rita’s little dust cloud as he kept driving and encouraging people to return to their homes. Brick noticed the number of cars headed north had increased and figured quite a few people must have decided to give up on getting out of town without getting to the roadblock. He noticed a couple of drivers on the other side of the road looking towards the fire trail. He tried to keep under cover as he trotted quickly back to the car.
Rita had returned to the passenger seat. As Brick sat in the driver’s seat, he noticed she was looking through the road atlas. Rita asked, ‘What was the PA saying—I could hear the noise but couldn’t make it out.’
‘It was a cop telling everyone to go back home. Luckily he didn’t notice your dust cloud.’
‘Oh, sorry about that. Did anyone else notice?’
‘I don’t think so—at least no one called out or pulled up at the gate before I shut it. I think we were just in time, a few more minutes and we wouldn’t have made it here.’ Brick paused for a moment and then exclaimed, ‘Aw, shit! I just realised, I didn’t get the lock on properly.’
‘Do you think it matters?’
‘Probably not—not with the cops patrolling the way they are. What are you doing with that?’
Rita held up the atlas, ‘This road isn’t marked on this map at all, Brick. Are you sure you know where it goes?’
‘Sure do,’ Brick said. ‘We helped the vollos with a back burn down here last season. This track winds around a bit but we can cut back anytime towards the old highway. If we can’t get through that way, we can go further west and end up out towards Picton. There are tons of different tracks we can take to avoid road blocks if we need to.’
‘That might take a bit longer than six and a half hours to get to Rocky Hall.’
‘Yeah, but I bet most towns aren’t going to be blocked the way Sydney is. We’ll be able to travel on main roads for most of the trip. We’ll be there before the day’s out.’
‘Maybe, but I’m just as happy not to push it. Let’s take our time and be as safe as we can.’
‘No worries,’ Brick said, the pain from his hand temporarily forgotten as he started down the bumpy fire trail.
07:00 AEST: QF12 Sydney
‘Attention passengers and crew. We have been given approval to open the doors.’
A cheer rose from the people on the flight. Pete started to stand, looking forward to getting off the plane.
‘I understand everyone is in a hurry to debark; however, in light of the previous incident, we need to follow a slightly different procedure.’
An audible groan sounded throughout the plane. People cocked their heads expectantly.
‘In order to ensure we don’t have a repeat of the last incident, we are going to request that everyone stays in their seats until the cabin crew advise you to stand.
‘We will debark from the front of the plane as we usually do, so this will not have any real impact on how long it takes to get off. It will, however, allow the cabin crew to move rapidly to any trouble spots.
‘I repeat, please do not stand until directed to by the cabin crew. Thank you in advance for your cooperation.’
Pete sat back down and looked towards Jeff.
‘Do you think this will work?’ Jeff said
‘I guess so, everyone seems to be sitting back down. Maybe people are so keen to get off they’ll follow instructions.’
‘We’ll see.’
Jeff and Pete were seated towards the middle of the first bank of economy seats. Jeff watched as people from first and business class filed out the door. Most people seemed to be moving fairly quickly. It only took a few minutes before the attendant at the start of the economy section started working her way, row by row, inviting people to leave the plane. No one needed to be asked twice. People quickly collected their carry-on baggage and moved down the aisle.
After what seemed like quite a while but was really only another few minutes, the attendant reached the aisle next to Pete. As they waited for the people ahead to get their bags and start moving, Jeff looked at the attendant and said, ‘Thanks for your efforts today, you must be keen to get home.’
The attendant smiled as she acknowledged Jeff and took a step back to allow Pete and Jeff to leave their seats, ‘I think we’re going to be held in quarantine here at the airport for a while.’
Jeff returned the smile as he stood and gathered his bag. He turned and nodded to her then started walking down the aisle following other people out. Pete was right in front of him. As Jeff got to the door, he again thanked the flight attendants by the door, and received a ‘good luck’ in reply.
As Jeff started walking up the air-bridge, he said, ‘Pete, I don’t think I’ve ever had flight crew say ‘Good Luck’ to me. Is that normal here?’
‘I don’t remember anyone saying it before,’ Pete said, looking over his shoulder briefly. ‘But then I’ve never been on a plane where we had a quarantine stopping us from getting off either.’
As they got to the end of the air-bridge, there were two people dressed in riot gear and looking like storm troopers. Both were holding automatic rifles in a ready position and standing on either side of a sign with an arrow pointing to the right above the words ‘Quarantine and Clearance’.
Jeff noticed Pete pause when he saw the trooper, and then start walking again. ‘Are you okay, Pete?’ he asked.
Pete shook his head. ‘I’ve never seen a machine gun in an Australian airport before, let alone full riot gear.’
Jeff walked with Pete as they followed the trail of passengers. ‘I suppose they have to take precautions, really I would rather they were armed than not.’
‘Very American of you to think that, but I guess you’re probably right,’ Pete said. ‘It’s probably good that they were police rather than army as well.’
‘How do you know they were police?’ Jeff asked.
‘They had Australian Federal Police badges on their shoulders,’ Pete said. He looked thoughtful for a moment and said, ‘The way people are walking is a little odd as well, don’t you think?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well normally people walk at different speeds. There’s always some that are in a hurry to get to the head of the immigration queue, and others that are dawdling along looking around at everything. It looks to me like we’re walking in a fast moving queue.’
Jeff looked behind and ahead and said, ‘I think you’re right. It just seemed like the natural thing to do after they made us get off the plane the way we did.’
‘Looks like we were the furthest gate from immigration as well’, Pete said, ‘although I suppose that could just be a coincidence.’
Jeff nodded as he looked towards the end of the concourse. ‘Does it look like there’s a queue starting down the end there?’ he said, pointing down the hall.
Sure enough, a queue was forming and gradually growing back into the concourse.
‘Bloody hell,’ Pete said. ‘That’s one hell of a long queue if it goes all the way through the duty free place back to here.’
They s
topped about 20 metres from the corner.
‘You know, I really don’t like it when I can’t see the start of a queue. How do you know if you’re in the right one if you don’t know where it’s going?’ Jeff said.
Before Pete could answer, a courtesy shuttle driven by a policeman in riot gear rounded the bend and stopped about 10 metres from them. There were three other policemen on the shuttle, two in the back and one in the front, all in full riot gear including body armour, masks, and helmets. As the shuttle stopped, the two policemen in the rear stepped down. One walked towards the head of the line, the other started to follow the shuttle. As they walked, they kept their attention on the people waiting in the queue.
The policeman in the front passenger seat raised a megaphone and announced, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please form a queue close to the wall on your right. Stand no more than four abreast. As you move forward, you will be checked by medics to confirm you are well. You will need to hand them your completed arrival card as well as your passport. If you do not have an arrival card, please return to the airway bridge where an officer will supply you with one. You will then pass through immigration and baggage claim before a final check at customs. After customs, you will be guided to buses that will take you the quarantine centre. Thank you for your cooperation.’
The shuttle moved further along the concourse towards the gate before the policeman stopped and repeated the message. It then turned and drove back past them and around the bend towards the front of the queue.
‘Looks like everything’s under control,’ Jeff said, with a question in his voice.
‘Yeah, it’s a little bit scary, isn’t it?’ Pete said.
‘No kidding.’
The queue moved forward a little but stopped again after about five metres. Pete looked thoughtful and said, ‘I wonder what the medical screening is?’
The woman just ahead of them turned and said, ‘It can’t be too tricky. This thing is pretty new. Maybe it will be like with SARS and they’ll just check our temperatures.’
‘They did that?’ Pete asked.
‘Sure. They still do in Hong Kong. They just zap you with a remote thermometer. You barely have to slow down as you walk past.’
The queue moved forward another 5 metres, ‘I reckon they must be doing more than that with how slow this queue is moving,’ Pete said.
A policeman came back around the bend and walked past them. The tinted goggles and face guard gave his face an insectile appearance, making him fearsome to look at, let alone talk to. Jeff wondered if that was why most people seemed to look away as he approached.
‘Jeez that riot gear is scary,’ Pete said.
‘I was just thinking the same thing.’
‘Certainly makes everyone stay nice and calm at any rate. I guess that’s a good thing.’
‘Yeah, I suppose so.’
The line moved forward another 5 metres. Pete said, ‘You know, I am really amazed by how calm everyone is. I would have thought people would be upset by all the delays.’
‘I think the extra wait on the tarmac made people think twice about being impatient.’
Again, the queue lurched forward another 5 metres, putting them just around the bend. About 10 metres ahead, they could see banks of portable partitions separating the queue into eight lanes. They could see people queued at the start of the lanes but not what was happening inside each of them. It looked like there was a bend in each lane. There were riot police telling people which lane to pass through.
After a few moments, the line pulled forward again as the police directed two people into each lane. There was a family up ahead and all four were directed into a single lane.
‘At least they’re not separating kids from their parents,’ Pete said.
‘That would probably be a pretty stupid thing to do,’ replied Jeff.
Pete was quick to reply, ‘Sure, but it would be in-line with our immigration minister’s idea of how to do things.’ He half laughed, ‘Sorry, not a fan of government policy on immigration. I can’t imagine their idea of quarantine is going to be overly pleasant either.’
Jeff just looked at Pete, wondering what he was getting into. He had heard stories about how Australia had been establishing what were effectively concentration camps for illegal immigrants. The right wing media at home had been all for following the example.
At some invisible signal, the line moved again and they were directed into one of the channels. Jeff was ahead of Pete and passed through the bend to be confronted by a person in a medical mask, along with yet another riot policeman. The masked person aimed a temperature gun at his head, took a reading, and then said, ‘Sir, please hand me your passport and immigration card.’
Jeff passed over his documents.
The masked person then said, ‘Sir, do you speak English?’
‘Well, American,’ Jeff said, hoping to lighten the moment.
The masked person had no reaction, and said, ‘Sir, please answer the following three questions with a yes or no answer. First, do you feel well?’
‘Sure’, Jeff said, ‘sorry, I mean yes.’
‘Thank you. Have you been in proximity of any person who was acting strangely or violently in the last twenty-four hours?’
‘No, although there was someone on the plane who panicked.’
‘Thank you sir, we know about that person. Finally, have you been in physical contact with any person you suspect of being unwell in the last forty-eight hours?’
‘No I have not.’
‘Thank you sir.’ He passed back Jeff’s documents. ‘You may now proceed to immigration.’
Jeff felt a little numb as he took his passport and arrival card. He half stumbled forward before regaining his bearings and walked towards the immigration counters. As he walked he noticed he was passing through a large Duty Free store; however, all the lights on the displays were turned off and no registers were open—it was pretty clear that the store was closed despite the merchandise on display.
As he approached immigration, he saw a queue for Australia/New Zealand, another for ePassports, an express lane, and the longer ‘All Other Passports’ lane. Ruefully he joined the ‘All Others’ lane. He had only been in the line a moment or two when Pete tapped him on the shoulder and said, ‘Come with me, mate.’
Jeff looked a little confused until Pete handed him an ‘Express Inwards’ card. He winked and said, ‘I keep a stash of these for when the queue is too long.’
‘Thanks, Pete,’ Jeff said, with real appreciation. He immediately felt a little less on his own.
‘No worries, I’d hate you to feel unwelcome,’ Pete said with a wry grin.
There was an immigration officer at the head of the Express queue who checked their cards before allowing them into the significantly shorter line.
The immigration queue moved quickly. ‘Is it normally as fast as this?’ Jeff asked.
‘This queue is,’ Pete said. ‘I usually don’t have to wait for too long. Unfortunately, the quicker you are, the longer you have to wait for your bags.’
It seemed like only a moment or two before Jeff was at the immigration counter. He handed over his passport and arrival card.
The officer on the immigration counter looked quickly at his passport and then his face. Jeff was surprised he didn’t have to be fingerprinted and photographed the way he was on entry into the US. The officer asked him, ‘Are you here for business?’
‘Yes,’ Jeff replied. At a quizzical look from the officer he added, ‘I’m here to interview some people for a job.’
The officer nodded, ‘Looks like you might be here longer than you expected, mate.’ He stamped the passport and wrote something onto the arrival card before handing both documents back to Jeff. ‘Good luck,’ he said.
Jeff nodded, unnerved by the repeat of being wished luck, and said, ‘Thanks’, as he took his documents and walked through the immigration gate. He walked down the stairs to the baggage claim area, looking for a sign showing the
belt for his luggage.
After a few moments, Pete joined him and guided him to a belt right on the far side of the baggage claim area. Luggage was slowly starting to appear on the belt.
‘I’m surprised we get to collect our luggage,’ Pete said. ‘I guess it’s easier for us to get it now rather than later, but I didn’t think they’d have any baggage handlers working.’
‘I didn’t even think about it,’ Jeff said. ‘But now that you mention it—maybe it’s being done by the National Guard or something?’
Pete laughed. It amazed Jeff that he could find anything amusing. ‘We don’t have a National Guard here, mate. Maybe the Army Reserve, but I reckon they probably just have the normal baggage handlers working.’
Jeff was about to answer when a message came over the PA.
‘Attention all passengers in the baggage claim area. Due to the quarantine and curfew, all passengers will need to wait in the baggage claim area until transport has arrived.
‘Please claim all your baggage as it comes off the belts. Normal quarantine and customs procedures will be followed. Customs officers will be circulating and performing inspections in the baggage claim area where possible. Please be patient and cooperate with the officers.
‘Passengers will then be transported to a quarantine area which has been established close to the airport. Further onward transportation to hotels and residences will be arranged from there.
‘Thank you for your cooperation.’
‘Shit,’ said Pete. ‘I guess I don’t get to go home for a while then.’
07:00 AEST: Sydney
Dan’s view of the street through the door monitor was pretty limited. His street ran along the crest of a hill, with his house on the downhill side of the street towards the bay. The top of his front windows were only slightly above the street level. The previous owner had been a privacy nut and had built a 2-metre-tall brick fence around the whole property. From his bedroom window in the front of the house, it was almost impossible to see the street except through the gap in the fence for the driveway. The re-enforced steel gate was back against the side fence, wide open as it almost always was.