I spin around, looking in the opposite direction, my jaw going slack.
Gut clenching, I’ve no idea if I’m going to vomit or shit myself. Either is a possibility when, in the distance, I see movement. A cloud of… I swallow hard. Sand. It’s fucking sand. Here. Sure, there are deserts and beaches in Australia, but not fuckinghere.
The cloud of sand is heading towards my sister’s property.
Even though it looks like a speck from this distance, I can still sense that it’s big and fast. It could be an SUV, but my gut tells me it’s not.
The moving sand cloud has yet to meet the red dirt I’m so familiar with. It’s still several kilometres away.
Either way, my gut’s screaming at me to move.
While I’m sure my sister and Derek are at work, not usually finishing till the sun has set at six-ish, Jamie’s school bus droveby over an hour ago. He’ll be home, doing his chores like the good twelve-year-old kid he is.
Turning on my heel, I race back to my ute, my heart thundering.
Please start.
It doesn’t. The battery seems to be dead.
Not wasting time, I rush to the barn while doing a cursory check of my phone, but I already know I’ll have no signal. I’m right.
Whatever the blast was must have taken out the towers. My service is always a little sketchy out here, but I have no doubt that isn’t the issue.
When I open the barn doors, Geralt’s and Gertie’s braying assault me. They’re freaked.
“Hey, there.” I go straight to Geralt, who’s the bigger and noisier of the two. “Shh. It’s all okay.”
I stroke down his rich brown neck, his hair smooth and familiar. A breath gushes out of me when I do. I’m fucking wrecked, my nerves shot. But I have to pull my head out of my arse and get to Jamie.
“We’ll all be okay,” I whisper, straightening my spine and willing myself to believe it.
I was brought up here, isolated and battling everything from grassfires to floods to dealing with snake bites. I know I’m made of tougher stuff than this. I need to do better.
Closing my eyes, I take a calming breath. This is the last one I allow myself before I take action and stop having a breakdown. “Get your shit together, Jack.”
Geralt nudges my shoulder, and I snap open my eyes.
My dirt bike, quad, and ATV are dead. Even the tractor is fried.
I force steel into my words when I say, “We’ve got this.”
At least Ireallyhope Geralt has got this with me.
Rather than cussing up a storm, I put my focus on saddling Geralt.
As I swing myself onto his back, I feel his familiar powerful muscles beneath me, his fifteen hands of chestnut power offering me comfort. He’s a stockhorse and has been my steadfast companion for years, yet today even he’s skittish.
He whinnies and huffs.
“Come on, boy. We need to get to Jamie.”
A snort escapes him, his muscles tensing against my legs as he prepares to move. He’s clearly anxious, but he’s intelligent and reliable. I have faith that he knows what I need from him.
As we burst from the shelter of the barn into the expanse of rich soil beneath Geralt’s hooves, his nervous energy transforms. His strides become purposeful, his movements sure.
With each step, his confidence grows, and thank fuck it does. I can’t look away from the changed landscape in the distance and the green-tinged sky that keeps snatching my attention.
Was there a chemical explosion? Maybe radiation is polluting the sky. But what about the buildings? The further I move from my home, it becomes clearer there are shelters of some sort in the distance.
