A soldier stood in front of the truck, beckoning Petra on. She put her hand out of the window and acknowledged him, then eased out towards the perimeter.
As they drove towards the exit, tongues of orange flame continued to flicker among the blackened stumps of trees. The fire was still stalking the camp, trying to get a hold. Once again, soldiers pursued it and smothered it, keeping the firefighters’ haven safe.
Petra took Engine 33 back onto the road, out into the fiery city again. Away from the bustle of the camp, they could hear the sounds of the sirens again. The sky glowered black with smoke, the sun blazing through it like a furnace.
Petra changed up to third gear and accelerated towards the town centre, her jaw grimly set. ‘We’ve got new instructions. We’re going for a big strategic push. The army are helping too. The teams on the outside are going to drive the fire inwards; the teams on the inside — that includes us — are going to drive it outwards. Hopefully we’ll meet in the middle. This is no longer about saving individual structures. It’s about putting this fire out once and for all.’
Chapter Seventeen
Ben picked up the jerry can, ducked under the wing of the microlight and unscrewed the big cap on the tank behind the cockpit. Kelly twisted round in her seat to watch him as he refilled the fuel tank. Her hands were encased in white mittens, and as Ben poured the fuel mixture in, she made little twitches, mimicking his movements. Ben got the distinct impression she would rather be doing the job herself.
‘When you mixed it,’ she said, ‘did you use a filter?’ The microlight ran on a mixture of two-stroke oil and lead-free petrol.
‘Yes,’ said Ben. ‘Just like you said.’
‘Good. You don’t want dirt in the fuel tank or we might stall.’
Once the tank was full Ben stowed the jerry can on its hooks beside the petrol tank.
Kelly had some more orders for him. ‘Check the engine is securely bolted to the wing.’
Ben looked at her as though she was crazy. ‘Why? I haven’t touched it.’
‘You always have to check the engine mounts before you take off.’
Ben reached up to the wing, put his hands on either side of the engine and gave it a good shake. ‘Is that secure enough?’
‘Yes, now check the propeller. If it’s got any chips or nicks, it might snap off.’
Ben ran his hands along first one blade, then turned the propeller and did the same with the other. ‘Smooth as a baby’s bottom.’
Kelly looked affronted. ‘A what?’
‘As a toddler’s ass, I guess you’d say in America,’ said Ben, hiding a smile.
Next she made him check the wires that held the wings and the connections to the ailerons, the rudder and the brakes. All of this was standard procedure before take-off.
Finally Kelly was satisfied. ‘Let’s eat and then we can get going.’
Ben scrubbed his hands with wet wipes, then picked up the bag of sandwiches from the floor and offered it to Kelly.
She stayed where she was, sitting back in the seat, the map on her lap. ‘You’ll have to feed me.’
Ben laughed, thinking she was joking. ‘You’re not serious, right?’
Two bandaged hands waved in front of his face. ‘If
I do it myself I’m gonna make a big mess.’
Ben fished out one of the sandwiches and looked at her dubiously.
Kelly sighed. ‘Ben, I’m starving. Just hold the darn thing up and let me take a bite.’
She really wasn’t joking. Ben tore the wrapper off and looked around warily. If anyone saw him doing this, he’d die of embarrassment. A big tow-truck was parked at the garage but the driver was occupied filling up with petrol. There was a building site a short distance away but no one there would be able to see them. He held the sandwich out. ‘Go on then.’
Kelly took a bite, sat back and chewed thoughtfully. ‘This town is weird.’
‘Apart from being underground, you mean?’
‘Did you see all those ill people in the hospital? This is one unhealthy place.’
‘Yeah,’ said Ben, his mouth full. He realized Kelly was waiting for another bite and thrust her sandwich towards her mouth.
Kelly bit, chewed and swallowed. ‘It must do odd things to people, living underground like that. I mean, look at that building site. When they want a house they don’t put up blocks and mortar, they go burrowing.’
Now that she pointed it out, Ben noticed how weird the building site was. A machine like a stubby rocket was boring a tunnel into the ground, disgorging rocks and red sand up a conveyor belt. But he would rather leave the sightseeing until they’d got the embarrassing business of feeding Kelly out of the way. He held up the sandwich. ‘Eat.’
She opened her mouth.
Instead of taking a bite, she jumped, nearly knocking the sandwich out of Ben’s hand. ‘What the hell—?’
A dark figure was standing just outside, staring in at them: an Aboriginal child of about seven. He had dark brown skin and thick wavy hair.
Two more children appeared beside him — another Aboriginal, with a red plaited cord around his neck, and a younger blonde girl.
Ben wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. If one of his mates in Macclesfield had found him feeding sandwiches to a girl, his life wouldn’t have been worth living.
But Kelly had no thought for his blushes. She recovered from her fright and took another big bite of the sandwich. ‘Run along and play,’ she said to the children, her mouth full.
Three pairs of eyes watched them in astonishment.
Kelly took the last piece of sandwich and Ben decided to try to explain. ‘She’s hurt herself,’ he said, hoping that would make him look a bit less soppy.
That wasn’t what the children were interested in. The Aboriginal with the red cord reached out a hand and stroked the microlight’s wing. The other one also put his hand on the plane. ‘Did you come here in this?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ said Kelly. ‘Now beat it.’
She still had her mouth full but Ben couldn’t mistake the irritation stirring in her voice. He guessed she didn’t relish chatting to seven-year-olds.
The blonde girl reached a grubby finger towards Kelly’s bandages. ‘Have your hands been cut off?’
‘Go away,’ said Kelly. ‘We’re going to start the engine in a minute. The propeller will cut your hands off if you stand too close.’
The girl looked as though she might do as she was told, but the two older children didn’t want to leave the microlight. The first child turned to the other one and asked him, ‘Is this like the real big bird that disappears?’
‘No, that was bigger. This one looks like a kind of bike.’
Kelly glared at them. Ben scrunched up the sandwich wrappers and smirked.
‘What’s the bird that disappears?’ asked the little girl.
‘You’re too young to know about that,’ her companion with the red cord told her.
‘They might have seen it,’ said red necklace. He turned to Kelly. ‘Have you?’
‘No, I haven’t,’ snapped Kelly.
‘Describe it to her,’ said the other Aborigine.
Red necklace leaned into the cockpit. ‘I’ll have to whisper.’
Kelly glanced at Ben, hoping for rescue, but she was cornered in her seat. Like it or not, she was going to be told. The child leaned close and whispered in her ear. When he had finished, he straightened up and looked at her solemnly, waiting for her response.
Kelly shook her head. ‘No, I haven’t seen any UFOs. Now buzz off. I mean it. We’re going to start the engine and it’s extremely dangerous for you to be this close to the plane.’
A woman appeared at the door of the petrol station and beckoned to them. The children turned round and ran across with a flat-footed gait that kicked up clouds of red dust. They weren’t wearing any shoes.