‘So did your mum pass away not long after Aaron?’ asked Finn, surprised at his own question.
‘Um, yes. Mum actually took her own life not long after Aaron died,’ said Jess, staring into her wine glass.
Finn’s mouth was open, but he was silent. He had no idea what more could be said.
‘Jesus, red wine, huh?’ said Jess, holding up the glass. ‘Gets you to talk about the craziest things.’ Flashing a forced smile, she took a deep breath and exhaled.
Finn was still, staring directly into Jess’s eyes. He did not buy the fake smile or the obvious deflection to the wine. ‘I’m so sorry for your family’s losses. I can’t imagine what you and your dad must have been through, even though I do understand what it is to be around death.’
The smile was gone from Jess’s face. ‘Thanks. It’s strange: I’ve never actually spoken about it with anyone. I mean Dad and I have talked around it, but I’ve never actually told anyone what I just told you.’
A moment of silence descended. Finn didn’t know where to take the conversation next.
‘Um, it’s late. Think I might go to bed now,’ said Jess, putting her glass on the side table.
‘Yeah, you’re right,’ said Finn, standing up.
‘Okay. Well, I’ll see you in the morning then before you and Dad head off to town,’ said Jess standing to face Finn.
‘Yeah, sure. Hey thanks for everything,’ Finn said, twisting his wine glass in his hand. ‘I really mean it. You saved my life. I’m beyond grateful for everything you guys have done for me.’
‘Don’t mention it — seriously, we’re just glad to help,’ said Jess with a smile.
‘Okay, well goodnight then,’ said Finn, watching her walk down the hall.
‘Goodnight, see you in the morning,’ she replied, glancing back at Finn as she walked down the hall.
The next morning after breakfast, John and Finn took the Nissan Patrol and headed towards town. Finn wore some of John’s clothes, which were a bit big but would do the job. Finn’s plan, when he got to town, was to call his parents first, find out if they were okay and let them know he was safe, then call the army to see if he could arrange an extraction.
The ‘road’ to town was barely a track in places. Finn was grateful that John had insisted on driving, sure he would have wound up lost again on his own.
There was no sign of Chinese patrols, which was good news. They had decided that, if stopped, there was no point in hiding Finn. Their only hope would be to convince them that he worked on the farm for John.
‘So it must be good to have Jess out here with you,’ said Finn, making small talk.
‘Good and bad really — selfishly for me, it’s great having her on the farm, but really I wish she had stayed in Melbourne. There’s nothing here for her, no future,’ replied John, watching the road ahead.
‘Talking to her last night I didn’t get the feeling that she’s here just for you. I think she genuinely loves being on the farm,’ Finn said, trying to reassure John.
‘Finn,’ John said, turning to look at his passenger, ‘women have an ability to convince themselves of something that might not be true, purely in order to justify their decisions.’
Finn smiled, ‘You might have something there, John.’
‘Her life isn’t going anywhere out here in the middle of nowhere,’ resumed John.
‘I don’t know. She didn’t give me that impression. Sounds to me like city life was going nowhere for her and that out here she could really live life her way.’
‘What Jess says and what’s really going on in that head of hers are two very different things — just like her mum,’ said John, with a distinct edge to his voice.
Finn let a moment of silence grow, not wanting to push the conversation any further.
‘So, when we get to town, can you drop me at the post office, or council building? I need to make some calls.’
‘Yeah, of course. The post office should be open, otherwise the pub has a pay phone.’
‘If it’s okay with you,’ Finn said, ‘depending on what the army wants to do about getting me out of here, I might come back to the farm.’
‘Of course, that’s fine. You can stay as long as you like.’ John said, looking Finn reassuringly in the eye.
‘Great. Thanks, John.’
After a good three hours of rough driving, Finn spotted the township. Winton was a fair-sized town, considering where it was. Driving down the sealed main street was eerie. The town was deserted — no people, no cars, no signs of life whatsoever. John pulled into a car space outside the post office. ‘Strange, it looks closed,’ he remarked.
They stepped out of the Patrol. It was quiet, and even though it was only just after 10 am, it was hot and dry. Finn went up to the door of the post office, finding it locked.
‘Yep, nothing going on here,’ said Finn.
‘Let’s try The Australian, it’s just down here,’ said John, pointing to the pub down the road.
Walking down the empty footpath, Finn felt like he was in a movie where the town had been taken over by zombies. If all was going according to the script, the zombies would be waiting at the end of the main street to attack them.
John pushed on the main door of The Australian — it was open. Walking into the bar, it took a moment for Finn’s eyes to adjust to the darkness. He couldn’t see if there were people in there or not. It was a disconcerting feeling.
John had walked up to the bar and started talking to the bartender. Gradually Finn’s eyes became used to the light. He walked up and joined John at the bar.
‘Finn, Dave here was just saying how the Chinese have been destroying homesteads and property all around the town.’
‘Is the army sending troops?’ asked Finn.
Dave, the old barman, looked at Finn. ‘Nah, mate. Apparently the army is too busy reorganising itself after the last big push — it’s every man for himself.’
‘Can I use your phone, please?’ asked Finn.
‘Sure, it’s over there,’ said Dave, pointing to a pay phone in a corner of the bar.
Finn walked over to the booth and picked up the heavy receiver. He started to gingerly push the sticky buttons, but nothing was happening. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around to see a grinning John proffering a fistful of coins.
‘You’ll need these, mate,’ he said, chuckling and turning around to return to Dave, who was laughing so hard he was bent over the bar. Flushing bright red, Finn shoved some coins in the slot and dialled his parents’ house. There was no answer, so he tried his mum’s mobile. It went through to her voicemail, her message freshly recorded a few days ago. Finn listened in relief to her message. She couldn’t have been injured in the attack on Sydney — she wouldn’t attend to petty personal admin like updating her voicemail message if she or Tom were hurt. He took a deep breath and left his message.
‘Mum, it’s Finn. I’m okay. I’m somewhere in the desert up north. I’m staying with some good people until the army can get me out of here. There isn’t a phone on the farm, so you can’t call me. I hope you and Dad are okay. I love you guys and I’ll see you soon.’
Finn hung up the receiver and immediately started dialling the army hotline number. As he lifted the receiver to his ear, John ripped it out of his hand.
Finn turned to John. ‘What are you —’
‘Come on, we have to get back to the farm,’ John interrupted urgently. ‘I just heard that the Chinese are headed that way. They’ve been destroying everything in their path — killing civilians, for Christ’s sake!’
‘Wh, what? You can’t be serious!’ Finn stuttered in disbelief.
John was pulling at Finn’s right arm. ‘Very. Come on. I need your help. Jess is out there all alone. If the Chinese find her God knows what’ll happen.’