Remote Rescue (5 page)

Dawson cut away the fabric. It was hard work. The scissors weren't all that sharp and the denim was tough. But he eventually managed it.

He gulped as he looked at his Dad's leg and tried not to be sick. The knee looked wonky, as if the kneecap had been shifted out of place under the skin. And there was a lump on the side of the leg, the skin stretched taut over it. Dawson swallowed hard as he realised there was a piece of broken bone pushing up against the skin. He took a deep breath.
Lucky it hasn't torn
through
, he thought.
Don't think I could cope with that.

‘Dawson, can you take a look at the cut and see how bad it is?' instructed Burt.

Dawson examined the leg. There was blood everywhere, making it hard to find the wound.

‘On calf,' breathed Dad.

‘I see it,' said Dawson, flinching. ‘It's still bleeding. But only a little.'

‘That's good,' said Burt. ‘Now, we should –'

At that moment, Gwen appeared beside her husband, still holding on to the satellite phone. It looked big and clunky like an old mobile rather than a modern smartphone. The device had a small glowing LCD display and a stubby antenna. Gwen was dressed
identically to her husband, right down to the knee-high socks and blue runners. Under different circumstances, it would have been funny.

‘They're sending a bush ambulance from Marree,' she said. ‘It'll take about an hour before they can get here. But I have the RFDS on the phone. They need to speak to someone to assess the situation.'

‘Better give it to the boy,' said Burt.

Dawson crossed the cellar and reached up for the phone. Bringing it to his ear, he spoke tentatively: ‘H–Hello. This is Dawson Miller.'

‘Hello Dawson,' said a calm female voice. ‘My name is Wendy. I am a nurse with the Royal Flying Doctor Service, and I am here to help you. I need you to tell me exactly what
has happened. And then describe the nature of the injury. And also the surroundings and access. Do you think you can do that for me?'

Dawson gazed around – at the cellar with its debris and blocked steps; at Burt and Gwen staring anxiously down at him; and at Dad lying helpless and in pain on the ground. Dawson was scared out of his wits. He felt completely inadequate.

Dad looked up at him and their eyes connected. Dad was depending on him.

Dawson swallowed hard, licked his dry lips and spoke into the phone.

‘Ah … sure.'

Dawson told Wendy what happened to Dad. She then got him to report the condition of his father's leg and head. Finally, he described the cellar and the lack of stairs.

‘Excellent,' said Wendy. ‘The first thing you'll need to do is stop the bleeding. Do you have a medical chest?'

‘Um … what's a medical chest?' asked Dawson.

‘It is a supply of medicines and emergency medical equipment kept in remote locations,' explained Wendy. ‘It is okay if you don't have one, I just needed to check. What about a first-aid kit?'

‘Yeah,' said Dawson, reaching for the bag.

‘Do you have dressing and bandages in the first-aid kit?'

‘Yep.' Dawson pulled out what he needed. ‘I'll have to put the phone down while I do this.'

‘You do that,' said Wendy. ‘I will be waiting.'

Dawson placed the phone on the ground and picked up the dressing. ‘You ready?' he asked Dad.

‘Go for it,' Dad answered.

Dawson carefully applied the dressing to the wound. Dad's face tensed and his
hands balled up into fists. Holding the dressing in place, Dawson reached for the bandage.

‘It's okay.' Dad took a long, deep breath, bracing himself. ‘You'll need to press on it … and bandage it up securely to stop the bleeding.'

Dawson held his breath, worried about hurting Dad, then pressed a little more firmly. Dad gasped and went white. Dawson fumbled a little as he tried to work quickly. He wrapped the bandage around Dad's leg, tying it off firmly, but not too tightly.

Dad was still looking very pale and beads of sweat glistened on his brow. His breathing had become loud and ragged.

Dawson exhaled slowly and picked up the phone again. His hand was trembling,
so he grasped the phone with both hands to keep it steady. ‘Done.'

‘Excellent,' said Wendy. ‘The next step will be to make your father a little more comfortable. Do you have any ice?'

‘Yes,' Dawson answered, thinking back to their campsite. ‘We've got lots in our esky.' He saw Burt, who was in the doorway above, look down at the mention of ice. Gwen had left earlier, while he was talking to Wendy.

‘Excellent. You will need to get some for the swelling on your father's leg,' Wendy continued, as if reading from an instruction manual. ‘But do not put the ice on straightaway. You will need to wrap it up in something – a towel or a shirt, even a bag. It is best not to place the ice directly onto the skin.'

‘Okay, but the ice is back at the campground, so it'll take me a while to go and get it,' said Dawson.

‘You do that,' replied Wendy. ‘I will be right here waiting.'

‘Don't worry about the ice,' called Burt from above. ‘We've got some. I'll get it now so you can stay with your dad.'

‘Thanks,' said Dawson, relieved.

As Burt left, Dawson spoke into the phone again. ‘Burt's gone to get the ice, so I can still talk.'

‘Excellent,' said Wendy. ‘How is your father holding up? Is he still conscious?'

‘Yes.'

‘Excellent. Are there any other physical signs of trauma?' asked Wendy. ‘Is he shaking or shivering? Any vomiting or
nausea? Sensitivity to light? Is he having trouble focusing or understanding what you're saying? Anything at all?'

‘Um.' Dawson looked at Dad. ‘He's looking very pale. And he's kinda sweaty. And, his breathing is sort of loud and, um, fast.'

‘Headache,' groaned Dad. ‘Helluva … headache.'

‘He says he's got a headache.'

‘Hmm,' said Wendy. ‘He might have some mild shock or concussion. Not surprising given all he has been through. Additionally, the pain will be making it difficult for him. Have you got anything to put under his head to make him more comfortable?'

‘Not really,' said Dawson. ‘But I can get something.'

‘That would be helpful,' said Wendy. ‘If you can raise his injured leg, that will reduce the blood flow to the wound. And if the leg is raised higher than his head, it will also get more blood to his brain. That will help with his paleness.'

‘Here's the ice,' said Burt, reappearing in the doorway.

‘The ice is here,' said Dawson into the speaker. ‘I'm going to put the phone down.'

‘You do that,' answered Wendy. ‘I will be waiting.'

Dawson placed the phone on the ground, noting how often Wendy used the same careful phrases.
She must give out advice like this a lot
, he thought.
She really knows what she's talking about.
‘Thanks,' he said, reaching to get the ice, which Burt had wrapped in an
old stained tea towel. ‘I don't suppose you'd have a couple of cushions, too, for Dad?'

‘Can do,' said Burt, turning around and heading off again.

Dawson held the ice to Dad's knee. Dad took a sudden, sharp breath.

‘Sorry,' said Dawson.

‘It's okay,' gasped Dad.

Dawson went for the phone, but Burt had already returned with two cushions – a big firm one and a smaller flat one.

Dawson placed the flatter cushion under Dad's head. He raised Dad's injured leg as carefully and gently as he could, but it still made him cry out. Quickly, he slipped the other cushion under it. Dad let out a long breath as his leg was lowered.

Dawson then held the ice pack against
Dad's knee and used his free hand to pick up the phone. ‘I've got a pillow under his head and another under his leg. And I'm holding the ice pack on his knee,' he said to Wendy.

‘Excellent,' said Wendy. ‘Now, I will explain to you what will happen.'

‘Sure,' Dawson answered.

‘There is an ambulance about to leave from Marree, about fifty-five kilometres away. It should get to you within the hour. There will be a nurse who can treat your father on the scene. And the ambulance driver can help get your father out of the cellar.

‘Once he is in the ambulance, he will be driven to the Leigh Creek Aerodrome. That is about seventy kilometres to the south of you. The trip should take about an hour. One of you can travel in the ambulance with
your father. But I understand that there are two other children.'

‘Yes,' replied Dawson, biting at his lip. ‘My sisters.'

‘The people who own the satellite phone,' continued Wendy, ‘would they be able to drive your sisters to the aerodrome?'

‘Hang on, I'll ask.' Dawson looked up at Burt pleadingly. ‘Can you take us to Leigh Creek with the ambulance?'

‘Of course,' called Burt.

‘Okay,' said Dawson into the phone. ‘They can do that.'

‘Excellent. There will be a Flying Doctors aeroplane waiting there to take your dad to the Royal Adelaide Hospital.'

‘What about us?' asked Dawson, anxiety creeping into his voice.

‘There will be room on the plane for one other person. And we will assist with working something out for the other children. Do not worry. We will take care of all of you.'

‘Thanks,' said Dawson, feeling reassured.

‘Now,' said Wendy, ‘can I please speak to the owner of the telephone again?'

Dawson passed the phone up to Burt, who moved off as he talked to Wendy, and came back to sit with Dad.

Dawson drew in a long breath, held it, then exhaled slowly. His hands were still shaking.

‘You did well, son,' rasped Dad. ‘Real well.'

Dawson noticed how tired and strained Dad's voice sounded, and hoped that the ambulance would get there quickly.

‘Mum,' called Dad suddenly, his eyes snapping open. ‘Good grief … we've got to … let her know.'

Dawson gasped.
How could I have forgotten about Mum?

‘Phone … left-hand pocket,' said Dad. ‘Get it.'

‘There's no reception here, remember?'
Dawson reminded him. ‘We lost it long before we got to Farina.'

‘Yes, but check it anyway.'

Dawson fished the phone out of Dad's pocket and held it up. There was a diagonal crack from one corner of the screen to the other.

‘Blast!' Dad spat the word out in a mixture of anger and frustration. ‘Upgraded it too … just before we left Adelaide.'

Dawson stared at the phone in his hand.
There's nothing to lose, so I may as well give it a go
, he thought. He tried switching it on. Not a flicker of life. He sighed and popped it into his pocket, disappointed.

‘What about thingummy's … satellite phone?' asked Dad, the strain in his voice
getting worse. ‘Sorry … can't remember … name.'

‘Burt,' said Dawson. ‘Yeah, I'll go get it. You rest.' He struggled up through the doorway and glanced back down at Dad. His eyes were closed. He looked weak and vulnerable. It was upsetting for Dawson to see his dad like this.

Dawson headed outside.

Burt and Gwen were telling Sam and Em all about their Land Rover, and the pop-out caravan that was attached to the back of it. They turned towards Dawson as he quickly approached. Sam didn't look impressed, but Em stared at it in awe, as if it were a spaceship or something.

‘Excuse me,' he said to Burt. ‘Could I please use your phone again? I really need
to call my mum and let her know what's happening.'

‘Mummy!' cried Em.

‘Sure thing.' Burt handed over the phone.

‘Yes, Em,' said Dawson, ‘we're going to ring Mummy.' He looked back at Burt. ‘Thanks. I think talking to Mum will help Em. This is all kinda hard on her.'

Burt nodded his understanding.

Sam and Em clustered around him as Dawson entered the number. Then he crouched down and held the phone a little away from his ear so that his sisters could listen in.

Ring, ring.

They looked at each other in suspense … waiting … hoping. Then –

‘Hello. You have reached Stacey
Liston-Miller. I can't take your call right now, but if you leave a message I'll get back to you when I can.'

Beep!

The three siblings all started talking at once until Dawson stood up and backed away, holding out his hand. As Sam and Em quietened down, he spoke into the phone.

‘Hi Mum, Dawson here. We're in Farina and we've had a bit of an accident. Dad's got a broken leg. But he's okay. There's an ambulance on the way that will take us to the airport, and then the flying doctors are going to get Dad to hospital in Adelaide –'

Beep!

‘Voicemail ran out,' said Dawson, entering the number again. His fingers fumbled over the buttons, misdialling. With a grimace
and a frustrated sigh, he tried again. After Mum's message, he continued.

‘Dawson again. The plane taking Dad to Adelaide only has room for one passenger. There's a nice couple helping us out right now, but we need to get all of us back home. Can you give us a ring on this number? The people who own the phone are named Burt and Gwen. And don't worry, everything will be –'

Beep!

Dawson stared at the phone for a few moments before handing it back to Burt. ‘Can we try again later?'

‘Sure thing,' answered Burt, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

‘I'm going back to Dad,' announced Dawson abruptly.

‘Me too,' declared Em.

‘Ah, Em,' said Sam, taking her hand, ‘it might be better to let Dad rest. Daws can look after him. Why don't you stay here with me.'

‘Camping gear.' Dad's eyes snapped open again. ‘Didn't finish packing it up.'

‘Don't think about that now,' said Dawson. ‘I've rung Mum, but I keep getting her voicemail. I've left a couple of messages, so hopefully she'll ring back on Burt and Gwen's phone soon.'

‘Okay. But … can't just leave stuff out in the open,' insisted Dad. ‘Left car unlocked.
Got to … pack away … lock car.' Dad's voice was becoming more panicky.

‘Don't worry, I'll take care of it.' Dawson nodded and stood up. ‘Keys?'

‘Right … pocket.'

Dad groaned as Dawson fished the keys from his pocket. He closed his eyes as Dawson headed out of the cellar.

Outside, Burt and Gwen were talking in low voices by their Land Rover, while Sam and Em were playing noughts and crosses in the sand. They all turned around as Dawson appeared.

Dawson looked to his older sister. ‘Sam, do you and Em want to keep Dad company while I go and pack up our stuff?'

Sam nodded. Em jumped up.

‘Do you need a hand?' asked Burt.

Dawson shook his head.

‘You sure?' he asked again.

‘Yes,' snapped Dawson, immediately regretting it. ‘I'm sorry,' he added, lowering his voice. ‘I … I didn't mean … I just need a bit of time on my own.'

‘Then we'll stay out here and wait for the ambulance,' said Gwen, putting a hand on her husband's shoulder.

‘Thanks.' Dawson turned away, a little embarrassed, and went off at a brisk walk.

Somehow, Farina seemed a lot more desolate and lonely now as Dawson made his way along the main street. Knowing that Dad was lying injured in one of the buildings, waiting for help to arrive, made everything feel wrong. Dad was the one who should be looking after things, getting
him and his sisters out of trouble, fixing everything. Not the other way round.

Entering the campground, Dawson saw that their things were mostly packed up. The tent was in its bag, the chairs and table were folded up and the camping stove was already in the car. He opened up the hatchback and started putting everything inside. The only trouble he had was with the tent, which was quite heavy. He had to drag it over to the car, stand it on its end and lean it up against the opening. Then he lifted it from the bottom and heaved it into the boot.

Dawson took one last look around to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Rummaging in the back seat, he pulled out his wallet.
Can't leave this behind
, he thought before stuffing it into his pocket.

Turning to leave, he saw Burt striding up the path.

‘I've been thinking,' said Burt, ‘it's not a good idea to leave the car behind. Gwen can drive our Land Rover behind the ambulance, and I can take your car. That way everything will be at Leigh Creek.'

‘Thanks,' said Dawson then hesitated. He felt like he should say more but he was having trouble forming words. He swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘And thanks for everything else, too. You know, stopping and calling the RFDS and …' His voice trailed away.

‘No worries,' said Burt. ‘It's what people in the outback do. They help each other when help is needed.' He put his hands in his pockets and looked off into the distance. ‘Australia's
a great country. But it's also dangerous. And when you're out in the middle of nowhere like this, you stick together.'

Dawson nodded and handed the car keys to Burt.

‘Look,' said Burt, ‘Gwen and I have done a lot of travelling. Overseas when we were younger but now mostly around Australia. We've seen people in trouble and helped when we could. We've got into a few scrapes ourselves.' He smiled at his memories. ‘But things have always turned out okay. It's important to keep a cool head. And do what needs to be done.' He gave Dawson a reassuring look. ‘And you've handled things extremely well.' Burt finished by putting his hands on his hips.

It was a gesture that reminded Dawson
of Dad. He imagined that Mum and Dad would end up just like Gwen and Burt – spending their retirement travelling around. He found the thought comforting.

Dawson and Burt walked back to town in silence.

As they strode along the main street, Dawson spotted a cloud of dust in the distance.

His heart skipped a beat.