Dan
It had becomea habit over the past couple of months to fall into my bed bone tired. Last night hadn’t been any different.
Fighting nature was impossible. That had never been as clear as since returning to the Sunny Coast hinterland, not that the city didn’t have its fair share of mayhem either. I only had to look back to the horrific floods sending raging waters through the streets of Brisbane a few years back to appreciate that.
The extremes here seemed more visceral, even though they made me feel so bloody lucky that our “extremes” were a damn sight less horrendous than other parts of our state or country at large.
It didn’t mean I couldn’t give myself five minutes to feel weary, though, and wish we could get a break.
Shutting off the alarm on my phone, I yawned and stretched wide. My hand brushing alongside the empty space beside me wasn’t a sensation I wanted to get used to.
The good thing was, despite the full-on day of rescue yesterday and a couple of close calls, there’d been no fatalities. The water had also already been receding by the time I’d dragged myself home, barely managing a shower before faceplanting on my mattress.
But it was already time to get up and see what needed to be done, and I thanked Christ that last night we’d received extra support from further afield, so I was actually able to get some rest.
Having a quick shower to help wake up, I contemplated the likelihood of being able to get to Ross’s this afternoon.
He’d gone above and beyond yesterday to help my parents. And while his support wasn’t a surprise, it still made my heart race and dip like a roller coaster, reminding me of those words that had spilled out yesterday morning.
We’d spoken for barely a minute last night. My folks were safe, Ross sounded more tired than I anticipated, and Bessie was still pregnant. In our brief conversation, neither of us had mentioned the L word, nor did I let the words stumble unbidden again.
There was no doubt I’d say them again. The words were out there now, caught in the invisible connection between us. I did not want them to disappear. My tired overshare had just sped my declaration up a little. My stomach flipped at the thought—in both anticipation and nervous excitement.
I swilled off the suds, then dried off. I’d make a coffee this morning to-go rather than race out of here like fierce rapids were after me. I turned on the machine and flicked off a quick text to Ross while I waited.
Me: Just about to head back out. I’ll let you know any updates as soon as I do. Stay safe.
Before long, I’d made my way to the station. A few of the guys arrived at the same time as me. I greeted them with a tired smile, and we walked in together, all hugging our coffees.
Craig was already there.
“Get much rest?” he asked when I leaned against the wall at his side. A quick look around told me the chief would lead briefing, but a few bodies were still missing.
“Not too bad, about six hours. Slept soundly, though. You?”
“About the same.”
Movement off to the side brought my attention to the last couple of stragglers, and before I could say anything else, Frank called our attention and started laying out the plans for the day.
“With the water already receding, we’re going to ensure nobody enters areas and houses still flood affected. The SES is leading the clean-up while we’re focusing on clearing roads. This’ll mean trees, debris, any vehicles. I shouldn’t need to remind any of you not to be crossing flooded roads and only be tackling anything where it’s safe to do so. If there’s an emergency situation, the usual protocols are in place.
“Be extra vigilant for wildlife,” he continued, and Craig shuddered at my side, hating snakes especially. I wasn’t a fan myself, but I had a healthy respect for them—from a distance. “Just keep your heads on straight and wits about you. We’re splitting into three crews.”
I chugged back my coffee before checking and collecting equipment, then joined Craig, Sandra, and Lee. Sandra hauled herself into the driver seat, and we checked our comms. Sandra verified where we were heading first: Michelin Avenue, where there was a road blockage.
Out on the road, we drove slowly. While there weren’t a lot of vehicles about, there were plenty of people out and about, most looking like they were ready for hard work supporting their neighbours who’d been impacted.
We managed to get to the outskirts of town to Michelin Avenue. It looked here that the homes weren’t too severely impacted. Most were raised a good metre off the ground. While some flood water and debris remained, this part of town didn’t appear to be badly off.
Water splashed and moved right alongside us, probably a couple of inches still on the ground, and up ahead, a couple of cars were stationary, both parked haphazardly. A small gum had uprooted from one of the gardens, smashing through a fence and stretching out on the road.
Sandra parked, and we got to work, first shifting the abandoned vehicles, both left unlocked, making the task refreshingly easy. Once the cars were out of the way, we suited up with our protective gear and chainsaws.
The aim was to clear the road so vehicles could get through safely. The council guys would head over as soon as they could with their woodchippers to finish off the job. We weren’t about keeping things tidy. Our goal was safe access.
We worked on the branches, since those were the main things blocking the road. The limbs took some work, but I was grateful we didn’t need to mess with the trunk at large.
We zipped through the wood, the scent of gum heavy in the air with the fresh cuts. Between the four of us cutting and shifting the branches off the road, we made short work of the task. In a couple of hours, we were done and moving on to the next job we received from Sammy via comms.
