Remote Rescue (3 page)

‘Run!' laughed Sam.

Em took off, heading for the corridor, Sam close behind. Dawson followed.

As Em raced past Dad, he took a step
back. His foot came down on a half brick, which shifted beneath him, and his leg twisted out from underneath causing him to fall backwards …

Through the doorway …

Down into the cellar.

There was a sickening crunch.

‘Dad!' yelled Sam, running to the edge.

Dawson rushed up behind her. ‘What happened?'

Sam couldn't speak, she just pointed.

Dawson looked past her, into the room below.

Dad was lying on the dirt floor. His leg was at a weird angle.

And he wasn't moving.

‘Dad!' Dawson shouted. ‘Dad! Dad!' He looked around frantically, but the only steps down into the cellar were the blocked ones from outside.

‘Out of the way,' said Sam, her voice panicky.

Dawson stepped aside and Sam jumped into the room. It wasn't as deep as a proper
cellar, but it was high enough if you fell. Standing straight, Sam's head almost reached the floor above. A full-grown adult would have had to stoop to enter the room when there had been a floor. It must have been purely for storage.

Sam crouched over Dad. ‘He's breathing,' she called with relief.

Dad groaned and shifted, but his eyes remained closed.

‘His leg,' called Dawson, peering down. ‘It must be broken.'

Sam took a closer look at the bent leg. ‘I think you're right.' She glanced up at Dawson. ‘Should I straighten it?'

‘How should I know?' Dawson's voice was as unsteady as Sam's.

‘It might be better if I did,' said Sam, uncertainly.

‘Or it might make it worse,' countered Dawson.

‘We've gotta do something.' Sam reached out and took hold of Dad's foot.

‘Don't!' warned Dawson.

Sam straightened the leg.

‘AHHHHHH!' Dad screamed.

Sam dropped his leg, a terrified look on her face.

He screamed again. His eyes remained tightly shut.

‘We need help,' said Sam, taking a step back from Dad.

‘The other campers,' said Dawson. ‘They came after dark. I'll go get them.'

‘No,' said Sam, standing up. ‘I'm faster than you.'

Dawson stepped back as Sam jumped and pulled herself up through the doorway. Without another word she was off, leaving Dawson alone with Dad.

Dawson looked around nervously. He had to get into the cellar. It wasn't very deep, but he couldn't just jump down like Sam. He sat on the floor and swung his legs over the edge. Taking a deep breath he carefully slid off. It wasn't a long drop, yet he still managed to stumble.

He got down on his knees beside Dad and looked him over. He was shifting about and groaning, but his eyes were closed. There was a graze on his temple. He must have knocked his head when he fell.

Dawson's heart was pounding and his breathing was fast and ragged. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. What was he going to do?

Dad's eyes flickered open.

‘Son?'

Sam sprinted through the ghost town. Her heart was thumping and her brain was throwing up the worst-case scenarios.
What if no one can help? What if Dad is seriously hurt? What if he dies?

As these thoughts swirled around in her mind, she ran. Faster than she had ever run before. No race or game had ever given her as much motivation as this.

As she passed the gate with its campground rules and payment box, her heart sank. She was not going to get any help from the other campers …

They were gone!

‘What happened?' mumbled Dad, his voice weak and barely audible.

‘You fell,' said Dawson. ‘We think your leg's broken. And you've bumped your head. But don't worry, Sam's gone to get help.'

‘Where's Emmie?'

Dawson's mouth hung open. He'd forgotten all about her. How could he have done that?

‘I don't know,' he said in a quiet voice.
‘I don't think she saw you fall. So she just kept running.'

‘You need to go and find her,' said Dad, voice shaky, brow furrowed with concern.

‘But what about you?'

‘I'll be fine,' he said through gritted teeth. ‘Go find her … bring her back here.'

Dawson stood up. ‘Are you sure …'

‘I'm sure.' He tried to smile, but it looked like a grimace. ‘I promise not to go anywhere until you get back.'

Dawson put his hands up into the doorway and tried to pull himself up like Sam had done. He was a lot more awkward than she had been and it took him a couple of tries before he managed to hook his leg up. He pulled himself through on his stomach then stumbled to his feet.

‘I'll be as quick as I can,' he said, looking down at Dad, whose eyes were now closed. That's when he noticed a small dark patch of blood on Dad's leg. He took a deep breath to quell his rising panic and ran out into the street.

Em was nowhere to be seen.

‘EM!' he shouted. ‘WHERE ARE YOU?'

Silence.

‘EM!' he tried again. ‘IT'S IMPORTANT! WHERE ARE YOU?'

‘YOU HAVE TO FIND ME.'

The voice echoed around the ghost town, bouncing off the crumbling walls of empty buildings. It was hard for Dawson to work out where it was coming from.

He was about to shout again, when he heard a noise from the next building. It
sounded like falling rocks … as if someone was clambering over rubble.

He rushed towards it.

The other campers must have left while they were exploring the town.

Sam stared at the payment box at the entrance to the camping ground. Dad had put money into the box when they'd arrived. He'd said that the campground was owned by people at next door's farm – Farina Station.

That was the answer! The farm!

Sam ran back towards the town, stopping at the crossroads leading into it. Instead of continuing into the town, she turned right.
Up ahead in the distance, she could see the farmhouse.

She put on an extra burst of speed.

Sam was exhausted by the time she got to the farmhouse and the few surrounding buildings. Racing up to the front door she knocked as hard as she could.

And waited.

No one came.

She tried again, this time with both fists. Sam kept banging until her hands were too sore for her to continue.

But still nothing. So she did a loop of the house, trying windows and the back door – but they were all locked.

Sam took a deep breath to stop herself from collapsing into tears.
Crying won't help
, she told herself.
Dad needs me
.

But what could she do?

Maybe the people who owned the farm were somewhere nearby, working. She tried shouting.

‘HELLO. IS ANYONE HERE?'

No answer.

She ran to the barn. A shed. Some other small building.

‘HELLO!'

She finished up back at the farmhouse, her throat sore from shouting too loudly. Looking up at the building, she briefly thought of breaking in. But what if there was an alarm? Or worse … a guard dog.

She put her hands up to her head, trying desperately to think of what to do. Then, off in the distance, across the barren ground, she saw something.

Dust! A stirring of dust moving across the horizon.

A vehicle of some sort. It might be the farmers. But she couldn't tell which way the dust was heading. Closer? Farther?

She wondered if she should try running towards it. But what if it was heading in the opposite direction? She would never catch it. And besides … she wasn't even really sure what it was. Maybe it was a mob of emus crossing the landscape?

Suddenly Sam laughed.
A mob of emus?
She shook her head and turned around.

With no other options, she went back to town, her trembling legs slowing her pace.

‘Got you,' said Dawson, finally cornering Em behind a pile of old bricks.

It had taken him too long to catch her. He needed to get back to Dad. But first he had to explain things to his sister, without panicking her. He steadied himself and tried to keep his voice calm. ‘You've got to come with me. Dad's hurt.'

‘What?' asked Em, looking up at her big brother, her bright smile fading.

‘Dad fell when …' Dawson stopped himself. There was no reason to upset Em by telling her that she had caused the accident. Besides, it was also Sam's fault for telling her to run. Come to think of it, it was also
his
fault for running around the building to find them. ‘He fell and he's hurt his leg. We've got to go back to him. Okay?'

Em nodded but didn't say anything. She stared at her brother, eyes wide and glistening, her expression tight.

Dawson crouched down and brought his face level with Em's. He placed his hands on her shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. He wished Sam was here. She was better at handling Em. But it was up to him now.

The thought suddenly struck Dawson –
Em likes to be helpful!

‘It's going to be okay.' He looked into his sister's eyes and smiled. ‘Dad will be fine. He just needs us to look after him for a bit. Do you think you can help?'

When Em nodded again, this time with a little more enthusiasm, Dawson knew he'd said the right thing.

‘Come on.' He stood up and held his hand out to his little sister. She grasped it tightly and let him lead her off.

They came out onto the main street, just as Sam was running along it.

‘No … luck …' said Sam, between huge gulps of air. ‘Other campers … gone. No one … at the farmhouse.'

Dawson's face fell and he dropped Em's hand. ‘Now what are we going to do?'