Page 54

Chapter Fifty-Four

T he blackness of night began to fade, and Mackenzie focused on a dominant star until it was absorbed into the morning sky. Rejuvenated by yesterday’s beer can discovery, he ate a breakfast of cold barramundi and packed up their camp around Abi as she continued to sleep.

When he could do no more, he knelt beside her, smiling as he studied her taut stomach which bulged from his ill-fitting T-shirt. Faint blue veins swam up from her legs and circled her now protruding belly button. Her skin was smooth and golden in the dawn sky.

He hated to wake her, but he couldn’t ignore the sense of urgency in the back of his mind.

He placed his palm on her cheek. “Hey, baby.”

Abi stirred and rolled onto her back.

“Good morning.”

“Already?” She squinted at him with one eye.

“Sorry, but we need to get going.”

Abi devoured a plate of cold fish as Mackenzie packed up the rest of their gear. He led the way, navigating around the lower rock pool before the sun even crested the horizon.

With five plastic bottles of fresh water and a stomach full of fish, he set a fast pace down the declining ravine. The sun finally split the skyline with a dramatic dance of white and gold across the water. Gentle breezes created small ripples and the reflecting sun rays looked like a thousand eyes winking at him.

The days rolled on. The scenery changed and yet it stayed the same. He was in a never-ending nightmare and life became a blur as the river continually unfolded. They set off each day in the cool morning air and stopped when the sun peaked high above them. Abi would sleep by the water until the air grew cool enough to carry on and they’d walk until the evening sky blazed red, forcing them to find a place to set up camp.

Each day was a repeat of the previous day’s monotony, grinding down his patience and draining Abi of what little strength she had left.

The deafening roar of yet another thundering waterfall drowned out Abi’s ragged panting and Mackenzie had no choice but to drag her onward. Soon they stood at the top of an immense waterspout looking into a valley below them. But his heart sank as the panorama unfolded before him. Not a single road. Not a single building. Nothing.

How far have we walked, and how much further?

Abi couldn’t continue like this for much longer. Her cheeks were withdrawn, and her skin now had a greyish tinge. She needed to rest.

He helped her down the ravine and chose a comfortable nook in the shade by the crystal-clear lagoon. Abi crumbled to the ground, instantly drifting off to sleep. Mackenzie made the difficult decision to set up camp for a couple of days, hoping the rest would give her the energy boost she needed to continue on.

Their oasis by the river provided an abundance of food and they feasted on barbecued barramundi, frogs, snails and the stems, seeds and roots of a blue lily plant documented in Charlie’s bible.

For three days they did nothing but swim, eat and sleep. On the third night when the sun drifted into the horizon and the moon rose out of the darkness like an enormous safety beacon, Abi announced she was ready.

The eerie sound of dingoes howling at the moon cut through the silence and Mackenzie likened the lonely chorus to their own isolation in the vast wilderness. They sat by the fire and as Abi leaned into Mackenzie’s chest, he wrapped his arms around her and stared into the flames. He prayed this was their last night sleeping in the open.

Mackenzie woke to the sun blazing into his eyes and for the first time in months, he’d slept right through dawn .

“Abi, wake up!” Missing the cool morning air ruined the good feeling he’d had about today. He’d learnt to trust his feelings, both good and bad.

“What’s wrong?” Abi sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“We’ve got to get moving.”

“But what about breakfast?”

Mackenzie lifted her to her feet. “No time. We’ll eat on the way.” He fetched their pre-packed bags and moments later, they were walking away from the thundering curtain of water. The sun intensified in its merciless push to the centre of the sky, and he set a fast pace along a grassy levee that bordered the river. But it wasn’t long before he couldn’t ignore Abi’s pleas to stop any more. He searched for an ideal place to rest.

He stepped over a large log covered in a compact strangler vine and offered his hand to help Abi over it. Glancing to his right, he furrowed his brows as he studied the log stretching straight out before him.

That’s strange.

He dropped Abi’s hand and dashed alongside the anomaly skipping over small bushes in his path.

“What’re you doing?” Abi called behind him.

But he was too excited to reply. He paused at a patch of log that was clear of the vine. “Holy shit! We nearly missed it. It’s a pipe. Come on, Abi.” He waved her forward.

With both her hands under her belly she scrambled over the bushes. Her cheeks were flushed crimson by the time she reached him.

He slapped the pipe and remnants of white flaky paint danced in the air. “A fucking pipe. We’re saved.”

Mackenzie scooped her up and spun around laughing. When he kissed her, he noticed tears in her eyes. He set her on her feet, grabbed her hand and dragged her alongside the pipe and up the grassy incline. Convinced salvation was on the other side, he tried to ignore Abi’s ragged breathing. They trudged up the bladed grass and he held his breath as he neared the top, expecting to see people, buildings, civilisation.

He pushed Abi with his shoulder as they scrambled on their hands and knees. Finally, they crested the top. His eyes blurred with exhaustion and the air shimmered around him. The dancing heat gradually revealed straight lines and he was able to make out the distinct shape of buildings.

He collapsed onto his back and laughed until he cried. He rolled to her and cupped her cheek, drawing her eyes to his. “We made it, Abi.”

She nodded, clearly too exhausted to speak.

Once he regained his breath, he helped Abi to her feet. They walked hand in hand past a metal windmill with blades that turned in slow circles. The town gradually revealed itself more with each step. Seven buildings dotted the road that continued in a straight line as far as he could see. Behind the buildings was an enormous pit that was clearly man-made. A giant metallic arm protruded from the far side of the pit and led into a large concrete silo beneath it.

It’s a mining town .

Beyond the pit, an ocean of red dirt stretched to the horizon. Mackenzie didn’t quite know when he sensed something was wrong, but he stopped still when a dingo, proud and strong, with fawn coloured fur, strolled out of a doorway of one of the small, corrugated iron buildings.

He squeezed Abi’s hand.

“What?” Fear pricked her voice.

“Something’s not right. I don’t see anyone.” With dread Mackenzie surveyed the town. The wild dog turned its back on them and trotted up the dirt street as if it owned it. A water tank positioned high atop a wooden tower leaned at a precarious angle and all the visible doors and windows on the buildings were ajar, as if they’d exploded outwards.

“Maybe they’re at a party or something,” Abi whispered in a dubious voice.

“Yeah. They’re all at church.”

She tilted a ‘wise-guy’ look at him.

He shrugged. “Well, no point standing here. You stay here and I’ll go?—”

“Like hell. We do this together, remember?”

He rolled his eyes knowing it was pointless to argue. “Okay, but stay behind me.”

She clung to his hand as they walked toward the edge of town. The only movement was a small whirlwind of red dust. At the first building he peered through the dirt-streaked window, scanning for more wild dogs. But it was empty.

He tugged at the door. It grunted open with disjointed movements, and they stepped inside. The building was just one room with two bunk beds stacked at the rear. Tangles of windblown cobwebs hung from the corners of a metal cabinet like shredded strands of cotton. An array of equipment was shelved inside, and a thick layer of red dust covered everything.

This place has been deserted for a very long time .

A desk in the far corner had a name plate that confirmed his suspicions; it read ‘Nurse Abbot’. They were standing in an infirmary.

Stepping to the cabinet, he checked each cubby hole and although there was plenty of first aid equipment, there was no medication. “I think we’ve found a deserted mining town.”

Abi frowned. “When do you think they left?”

“Don’t know. Let’s keep searching, maybe there’s a phone that still works.” He was joking, but when he saw the look of hope on her face he recanted. “Not likely though.”

The next building was much larger than the first one and with a dozen metal tables and matching chairs scattered with utensils and plates, he assumed it was the mess hall. He had an eerie feeling about the room and compared it to the movie ‘Alien’ where Sigourney Weaver returned to a deserted city in space to find a colony of humans that’d mysteriously vanished. A shiver ran across his neck. But when Mackenzie sidled through the swinging doors at the back, he felt like he’d walked into heaven. It was a kitchen.

“Aah. Honey, we’re home.”

He yanked open the cupboards. “It’s all still here. Look—a toaster, kettle, pots, pans, utensils, everything.” He held up a saucepan. “Yeah, baby.” He decided tonight he would ceremoniously crush the engine cone that had served as his cooking pot since the crash.

“This place gives me the creeps. It’s like a ghost town.” Abi shuddered.

He turned to her. She hugged her chest and months of suffering showed in her usually crystal-clear eyes. Mackenzie tugged her to his chest and as he smoothed her hair, he noticed the double doors behind her .

Could it be a pantry? And could there still be food in there?

“Are you hungry, sweetheart?”

“Starving, as usual.”

He stepped from Abi and reached for one of the door handles. “Jesus!” He jumped back. Dozens of rats scurried off the shelves and scattered in all directions.

When the rats vanished as quickly as they appeared, Mackenzie smiled. The cupboard still had rows and rows of shelves laden with cans and jars. He reached for a tin, blew away the red dust and read what was left of the yellowing label. He laughed. “Beans … we’re being haunted by baked beans.” He turned the can over. “Ooh, do you think beans that are ten-years past their use-by date are still okay?”

“Well, you know the rules, you eat it first and if you’re still alive tomorrow, then I’ll eat some.”

“Ha, very funny. Actually, they probably are okay.”

Removing a couple more cans from the shelf, he read the labels as he went. “Aah, canned tomatoes.”

“Do you think we can eat them?”

He shrugged. “We’ll see how the contents look first and if it smells okay, I don’t see why not. But let’s find you somewhere to rest first.”

She made a weak smile, and he knew she was in two minds. She was so stubborn, but that was one of the reasons he loved her so much. He took her hand and led her from the kitchen. A blackboard at the back of the room caught his eye. It still displayed chalk writing. They stood before it hand-in-hand and read the shabby scrawl silently.

Last bus leaves at 2.30 sharp on Thursday, anyone not on it will have to walk back. Last drinks will be from 10. Anyone too pissed will be made to walk. That includes you, Robbo.

Mackenzie huffed. “They had a sense of humour at least.”

“That’s a relief. I was beginning to wonder if we’d find a mass grave somewhere with a lone skeleton holding a shovel lying beside it.”

Mackenzie laughed. “You’ve got a good imagination.”

“What? You’ve only just realised that?”

The next building on the right-hand side was set apart from the others. Unlike the first two it was a double story with an extensive veranda spanning the length of the front. Mackenzie stepped up the three short stairs and could imagine a horse being tied up to the railing as he walked toward the entrance. He pushed through the swinging doors and then held them open for Abi.

He reached out his hand and led her into the room. “Come on, baby. I’m sure we’ll find somewhere to rest in here.”

She sighed and stepped toward him as if every movement was agony.

The setting was straight out of a scene from a country and western movie. Round tabletops were secured to large wooden barrels and dozens of empty bottles and glasses cluttered most of them. Rickety wooden chairs with wicker lattice were scattered about as if their last use had been in a bar fight.

A mirror and rows of glass shelving decorated the back of the bar and a carved sign hung over the counter. It read: ‘Koongarra Pub—a little gem in a slice of hell.’

Mackenzie huffed. “I think it’s officially true.”

“What’s that?”

“To be called a town in Australia, all you need is a pub.”

At the back of the room, a narrow set of stairs curled around a corner and disappeared.

Mackenzie walked to them. “I wonder what’s upstairs.” He waggled his eyebrows.

The first door at the top of the stairs revealed a bathroom. It had a red ringed bath with a plastic curtain dangling by just two hooks, a tiny basin and a toilet.

Abi pointed at the toilet. “You don’t suppose that still works, do you?”

“Try it.”

She pulled on the dangling chain and the pipes clunked as rust coloured water flowed into the bowl.

“Ha, it does.” She grinned.

“I bet the other room’s a bedroom.” Mackenzie indicated for Abi to go first.

She side stepped to the other doorway and pushed it open. Cherry red papered walls were a dramatic contrast to the white lace curtain surrounding the double bed. Cobwebs secured an idle ceiling fan in place.

Abi pulled the lace curtain aside and sat on the bed. “This room’s been sealed up for a long time and yet there’s no dust. It’s like opening a vault.” She flopped back. “It’s wonderful.”

Mackenzie lay down beside her, melted into the soft mattress and closed his eyes. “A real bed. Damn this feels good.”

Abi groaned and he rolled toward her. His throat constricted when he looked into her green eyes. They were so tired and yet a determined fire still burned beneath.

He cupped his hand on her neck, threading his fingers through her long hair. He leaned forward and kissed her, a short tender kiss, reassuring her they were going to be okay. “How’re you feeling?”

“You mean besides tired, hungry and every muscle aching?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh well, then I’m good.”

“Excellent. This is where you’re staying while I make?—”

“I’ll come and help.” She went to sit up.

“No, Abi.” He held her back. “You need to rest. For you and our baby.”

Her shoulders softened and her jaw relaxed as she nodded.

Mackenzie stood and lifted her feet onto the bed. She rolled to her side, pulled her knees up to her belly and wriggled up so her head was on the pillow. She sighed and Mackenzie could only just imagine the relief she was feeling right now.

He leaned over and kissed her. “You can sleep if you want to. When you wake up, I’ll have some food ready.”

“Wake me, please. I’m really hungry.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” He kissed her again. “I’ll be back soon.”

By the time he left the room, her breathing had already become deep and steady, and she’d be asleep in a matter of minutes.

Mackenzie crossed the dirt road and explored the four remaining buildings. They were dormitory style living quarters. Some of the wardrobes still contained clothes and reaching for a navy-blue shirt he read the embroidery over the right breast: Koongarra Gold Mine. He quickly tore off his sweat-soaked clothing and shrugged the new shirt on, then rummaged in the cupboard for a bigger shirt for Abi.

Mackenzie noticed a newspaper under one of the beds and reached for it. It was dated 16th September 2000. He wondered what the date was now. They’d long ago stopped counting the days since the crash. It was eight months before they left the plane and it had been at least another six or seven months based on Abi’s belly. But he couldn’t even guess how many days, or even months they’d been travelling in total.

He scanned the room, frowning at just how much equipment was still there.

Why didn’t they come back for all this stuff?