Mountain Ash (32 page)

‘Sitting on a pile of rocks on the New South Wales border. Why? Where are you?'

But his last couple of words were drowned out by Clem swearing. ‘Why the fuck aren't you still at home?'

‘I left early. You got a problem with that?'

‘I fucking sure do. That fire I was on today, it's headed here. I've just spoken to one of the dozer drivers. It's moving so fucking fast they can't track it. The machines putting in the fire breaks can't hold it. They're pulling out. It's too dangerous.'

Jodie.

Holy hell,
Jodie!

‘You need to get back here. They're expecting this thing to come out of the bush in a couple of hours. The old man. Jodie. Maybe even Mue. They might all be in strife.'

Both men barely said a word as they travelled.

After Nate had hauled Wal from his swag and explained the situation, Wal's only question was, ‘How long have they got?'

Nate didn't know. He wouldn't have any phone service until he got closer to home. He'd tried to ring Jodie before he left the rocks but she wasn't answering. The answering machine wasn't on either. Probably disconnected. And he knew her mobile phone service was dodgy at the best of times, up on that hill surrounded by the scrub, but tonight, with everyone on the network at once, it would be horrendous. He tried it all the same. It went straight to message bank.

His heart felt like it was somewhere in his throat, choking the life out of him. How the hell was she going to cope? A pregnant woman on her own with a little daughter. At least she'd have Travis Hunter. He only knew the man by reputation but he was sure he'd get her out of there. That was if he was
home. The man went walk-a-bout up the bush chasing dogs. He might even be on the fire-line. His own wife and son would be safe enough down on the irrigated flats. There'd be flying embers to worry about but at least not the fire front itself.

Back and forth went Nate's mind, careering between soothing itself and getting all het up. It was a nightmare not knowing. If only he'd been able to talk to her, to tell her to get the hell out of there.

Jodie woke from a nightmare in which Nate was about to punch the crap out of Alex to the sound of her phone trilling. Bleary-eyed she glanced at the screen. Talk about the devil – or angel, depending on how you looked at it. It was Nathaniel McGregor's number (and just how she'd memorised it she wasn't even going to think about). Well, she wasn't answering his call. She couldn't bear to hear his deep voice, so near yet so far away. It just made the heartbreak all the worse. The answering machine had been packed away, so she let the phone ring out. Next would be her mobile. Well, that wouldn't help him because reception was pretty much non-existent up here.

Obviously she'd fallen asleep. The dregs from her cup of tea were now a wet mark on her jeans. The room was filled with the strong smell of smoke. A strange orange glow hovered in the darker corners of the room, which was ordinarily lit by one single hanging globe. She got up and walked quickly to the back door.

Out onto the lawn.

Reeled back in shock.

Oh. My. God. The whole sky was aglow. It was like the city of Melbourne had picked itself up and taken residence behind
McCauley's Hill. It took precious minutes for Jodie to catapult from shock to terror. The fire. It was coming. They had to get out. She and Milly had to leave. Now. Before it was too late.

Shit. The horses.

She ran back inside and shook Milly awake. Took a few more precious minutes to explain the situation to her daughter.

‘Milly, I need you to stay calm and do as I say. Okay?' Jodie had her hands on Milly's shoulders and the little girl's sleepy eyes stared up at her with complete trust. Oh God.

‘We have to leave here. The fire's coming but I need to let the horses out.'

‘Buggsy!' said Milly. ‘Will he be all right?'

‘I hope so. If I open the gate they can then run to a safer place.' She hoped that sounded okay to the child's ears. Jodie loved her animals and didn't want to see them burned alive but she loved her child more. She'd do what she could but then the horses would have to take their chances. ‘While I'm gone grab as many buckets you can see in the horse float and fill them with water. And a couple of mops, some towels if you can. They should be near the front of the trailer near the access door. All right? Fill the bath with water too. We might need it.' Like hell. They were getting out of here. The place could burn. Human life was worth more than a structure. But getting water and mops would keep Milly busy and either very near or inside the house, which was the safest place for the child while Jodie let Parnie and Buggsy loose.

Milly was nodding, her eyes squinting. She wasn't quite fully awake.

Jodie gave her a little shake. ‘You need to put on a hat, some long pants, a flannelette cotton shirt, and your riding boots. Cover yourself up. You hear me?'

Her daughter nodded again. She crawled out of the swag and started rooting around for her clothes. Jodie could see the poor kid was starting to shake. She took hold of Milly's face, turned it to her, stared into her eyes. ‘We'll be okay, Milly Molly Dooks. Mum will make sure we're fine. The green irrigated flats are at the bottom of our hill. We just need to get organised. I'll leave Floss here with you to keep you company. I'll only be five minutes or so.'

Milly gave a little gulp. She was fully awake now. ‘Okay, Mummy.'

Jodie gave her daughter a reassuring smile but inside she was screaming, Oh my fucking God. She spun and raced to her own case. Grabbed out some natural fibre clothes to cover her body. Slammed on her Akubra and a face mask that happened to be sitting on the windowsill. Ordering Floss to stay with Milly, she ran full pelt out the back door and was petrified to see the glow had got brighter. Embers were falling from the sky. She grabbed a leaf and felt it. It was really warm. She needed to move. Fast.

Milly yelled from the back door, ‘The radio's saying McCauley's Hill will be impacted in the next hour. Hurry, Mum!'

As Jodie ran up the hill, she was thinking that gave her about ten minutes to get out of here. Time to open the paddock gate, get the horses on their way and then drive the hell off this hill. Hard on the heels of that thought came self-recrimination. So much for the radio's advice to leave early. She should have just got them all out, the horses included, last night, just in case. She shouldn't have fallen asleep. She shouldn't have been so tired. She shouldn't … she shouldn't … be doing
this
.

She staggered to the brow of the hill. Could see Buggsy near the entry to the paddock, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head with terror. Of Parnie there was no sign.

Jodie frantically scanned the paddock. She couldn't see a thing beyond the shine of her torch. Where the hell was her horse?

Embers were falling all around her up here. The radio must've been wrong. The fire couldn't be an hour away. Her heart was racing, her head in a turmoil. What to do? She couldn't leave Parnie here on his own. But what if he didn't know he could get out? He'd be cooked. She opened the gate and was nearly run down by Buggsy trying to get away from the embers – leaves, twigs and even small tree branches all falling in a maelstrom of debris from the sky. Milly's pony took off into the gloom.

To Jodie's horror, she could hear a constant sound in the distance. A throb, a subdued roar of some sort. She ran into the paddock knowing she only had time for one pass with the torch, if that. Taking off at a run she yelled, ‘Parnie! Parnie! Come here, mate. Parnassus, where are you?'

Up one fence line, across another, up into the top corner she shone the torch. The embers were still falling. She had to get out of here or she was going to die, which meant her children would die too.

Sobbing now, she swung to leave the paddock and caught sight of a dark rump in her peripheral vision. Parnie!

She dashed down to him. He was snorting and whinnying, running a short section of fence in the far south-eastern corner. He was beside himself. Was she going to be able to guide him to freedom? Trying to calm her voice, she called out to him, ‘Parnie. It's me. Parnie, mate. Settle. Settle.' She was up to his shoulder. He was throwing his head, but her voice seemed to reach out to him. She was able to put her hand on his neck and stroke his face. She urged him forwards. ‘C'mon, mate, let's get out of here.' The horse needed no encouragement. He was right
at her shoulder, and she had to run to keep up. Back to the gate they went. Parnie plunged through and took off down the hill towards the house with Jodie pelting along behind him. She skidded to a halt outside the old miner's shack. Now she just had to get Milly and get out of there.

Her daughter met her at the back garden gate. She was crying, howling. ‘Mummy, Mummy! I'm scared!'

Jodie was terrified too, but she wasn't going to admit that to Milly.

‘C'mon, sweetie, you've got to stop crying. We can get through this together.' Milly wouldn't be soothed. She was hiccupping. Jodie grabbed hold of her daughter. Towed her towards the ute. Opened the passenger door. Urged her in. Ran around to jump into the driver's seat only to be stopped by a scream from Milly. Nearby, a glowing branch had fallen straight down onto a rearing Parnie's back. The horse was plunging and kicking. The smell of singed hair and meat was discernible despite the dense smoke she was inhaling with every breath. Finally the horse dislodged the branch, and Parnie took off into the dark orange night. The smoke and ash was getting so thick Jodie couldn't see the top of the hill any more, let alone what direction the horse took. In the paddock at the sides of the house, spot fires were starting to light up from the embers. They had to get down the hill to the east and onto the irrigated flats. But where to head?

Jodie jumped up onto the tray to get some height. Scanned as far as she could see, which wasn't far. What she
did
see made her blood run cold. A fire had started at the bottom of the hill on the roadside to the north. The flames were gulping everything in their path, screwing the tops out of the Yellow Stringybark trees in a swirling firestorm. She snatched her gaze
to the south, desperately seeking an escape route. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't see over the brow of the rise to the road below. But if it was anything like to the north, she and Milly would run into the inferno at the foot of the hill, for the fire looked as though it was coming at her from all directions. Holy fuck. They were screwed.

Sobbing now, Jodie jumped down, hauled Milly out of the ute and back towards their home. She prayed the short grass and lawn she'd tried to keep as green as she could might save them. All they could do was rely on the water, mops and towels. Retreat to the house when the fire front came, and pray like hell the house didn't explode before they got out into the burned-out high ground. Jodie grabbed a hose, thanking God the power and thus the pump hadn't gone out yet. She started drowning the ground around her home with water. It was pointless. Too little water too late.

She turned to spray water on a spot fire near the garden gate and saw out to the north-west the massive flickering glow of the fire front itself. It would have been beautiful if it hadn't been so terrifying.

Thick smoke, like orange potato soup, made her cough and splutter. She gathered up her crying daughter with one arm, spraying water with the other, knowing full well that they couldn't beat this monster. It would take an army of people to try to put these spot fires out and protect the house. She wished she'd had time to plug and fill the spouting. She should have been prepared. She should have been out of here yesterday. She should have done a lot of things.

Now her mistakes would kill them all.

Nate was pushing the ute hard, literally willing the vehicle to drive faster. He didn't care about the speed limit. He just had to get there. To save Jodie.

He'd been trying and trying to ring her but there was no answer on either phone.

As they travelled west, the pulsing glow in the sky from the bushfire could be seen for miles. With threatening malevolence it seemed to be sucking them into its sphere of influence.

‘Fuck, mate, you'd better slow down,' said Wal, who had a stranglehold on the Jesus bar. ‘We'll have a bloody accident and then what good will we be?'

Nate eased off the accelerator ten millimetres for a few minutes to soothe the older man, then crept it up again. The people he loved best in the world were in the path of that monster ahead of him.

‘Wal, can you try her again?'

His mate punched the number for the umpteenth time. Put the phone on speaker. This time someone answered, ‘Hello?' It was Milly. Nate grabbed at the handset.