‘Yes, but I thought you might need a hand here. So I’ve told my parents I’m staying here. At least for today. And I’ve got a sleeping bag in the car, just in case.’
Anna nodded. Shea was as safe here as she was anywhere. ‘Stay in touch with your parents. At times like this, it’s pretty hard when someone you love is—’
She couldn’t keep speaking. The fear she had been trying to hide threatened to overwhelm her. Instead, she finished what she was doing in silence and settled the joey into a cage to rest.
‘Why don’t you go into the Ridge?’ Shea said softly. ‘You’re more likely to hear something there.’
Anna tucked her hair behind her ears and took a deep breath. ‘No. I really can’t leave you here alone.’
Shea chuckled. ‘Boss, I’m twenty-three years old, not thirteen. I’ve got these two, and if anything else comes in, I can handle it.’
‘But still—’
Shea grabbed Anna’s hand and practically dragged her into the car park. ‘Look around. Yes, there’s a bit of smoke. It’ll be midday soon, and there’s not even the hint of a red glow up on the hills. If that changes, I’ll have plenty of time to get out.’
She was right. Anna knew there was no reason for her to stay. And she was far more likely to get news of Justin in town.
‘If you go to the hall, you can treat animals brought in there,’ Shea added as a final incentive. ‘There are a lot of pets in the town.’
‘If you’re sure …’
‘Of course I am. Go.’
Anna stayed just long enough to check she had everything she needed in her car, then, with one final push from Shea, she was in her car and heading for the Ridge, to be there when Justin returned. Or sent word. Because he would do that soon. He’d be fine. He would.
***
There were three RFS vehicles outside the hall when Anna arrived. She parked and hurried inside. None of the smoke-stained and exhausted faces were familiar. Justin’s crew must still be out at the fire front. Most of the townsfolk were gathered around a tablet, set up like a television near the food tables. She could hear the newsreader’s voice.
‘Fire is burning on several fronts, fanned by high winds. The weather forecast is offering no hope to the people in its path, with the hot, dry winds expected to continue for at least another twenty-four hours.’
Anna could feel the growing concern in the room.
‘More than a dozen houses have been destroyed and evacuation orders have been issued for small towns in the path of the blaze. Heavy traffic is being reported on some of the roads leading away from the area.’
She was close enough now to see the images on the screen. Taken from a helicopter, the video showed a huge swathe of blackened and charred earth. Trees in the devastated area were still burning. As the camera panned around, the front of the fire swept into view. Flames leaped dozens of metres into the air as the trees burned. The flames seemed to be moving fast, devouring everything in their path. Anna could see a cluster of buildings, someone’s home, burning furiously.
Beside her, Deb caught her breath with a small cry as the smoke cleared enough to show the flashing lights of the RFS trucks on the ground. Briefly, they caught a glimpse of people moving around the truck, their bright uniforms seeming to glow in the reflected light of the flames dancing around them. Everyone in the group strained to recognise the firefighters, but the helicopter was too high, the shot too distant. But even if those weren’t the Wagtail Ridge team, they were somebody’s husbands and sons and daughters.
The screen cut back to the presenter at the desk, who was now turning his attention to fires burning in Western Australia. Anna spared a brief thought for the people there who were facing the same terror as Wagtail Ridge, but then her thoughts returned to Justin. She had to believe he was all right.
Despite the urgency of the battle being carried out, time passed at a snail’s pace. After resting for what could not have been long enough, the fire crew thanked the townsfolk for their help and, clutching bottles of water and some foil-wrapped sandwiches, climbed back into the vehicles and drove away in the direction of the fire. Only two firefighters remained. They sat next to the radios, speaking occasionally to crews out on the road. Anna was not alone in wanting to constantly ask them if they had news, but she knew they would tell them anything they could. And in the meantime, they were best left alone to do their jobs.
As time dragged by, townspeople came and went with offers of help for firefighters and locals alike. Some people stayed on their farms, doing last-minute clearing away of flammable rubbish. Most of the kids were at the school. It wasn’t a school day but they were all in one place and under the watchful eyes of teachers and some parents. The younger ones were being distracted with singalongs, stories and other activities. The older kids knew only too well what was happening, but their parents and teachers kept them calm. The school bus was ready and if the order came to evacuate, the kids would be the first on the road to safety.
And still there was no news of the town’s firefighters.
Another crew stopped at the hall for an hour’s respite and some food. They were too tired to talk, but even those who did had little news. They were being directed to a new area, as the wind shifted once again.
Gradually, the smell of smoke became too strong to ignore. Anna was in constant contact with Shea at the clinic, but all seemed well there. A fire truck had come by and refilled from the water tank, but it wasn’t Justin’s and the crew hadn’t been able to give Shea any news.
In the hall, people no longer clustered around the tablet. The news channel was struggling to find new information and had little to offer beyond replaying the same fire footage again and again. Most people, like Anna, spent more time on their phones texting people and asking for and offering reassurance that all was well with their families and friends. The people they didn’t text—couldn’t text—were the loved ones on the RFS trucks. Those were the people they wanted to hear from most of all.
***
Carol was helping Bree wash used plates and cups in the kitchen at the back of the hall when she heard a voice calling Bree’s name. They froze and looked at each other, a mixture of fear and hope written clearly on their faces. Ever so carefully, Bree set the wet cup she held back on the counter and darted into the hallway. Her heart in her mouth, Carol followed.
Bree gave a short, sharp cry as she looked across the room and saw her husband, Matt. A few seconds later, they were hugging each other as if they had been apart for weeks. Other people were hugging their weary husbands and friends and plying them with food, water and questions. Carol searched the group eagerly, but neither of her sons was there. She hurried to the main door. It would be very like her boys to be outside, attending to something on the truck, rather than coming in.
