Remote Rescue Page 2

  ‘Last one there’s a LOSER!’ Sam suddenly shouted, taking off.

  With a squeal of excitement, Em ran after her.

  Dawson shook his head and kept walking at a steady pace. His stomach was full of stale cereal gone soggy in milk he suspected had just about gone off. He certainly didn’t feel like running after a breakfast like that. Besides, it was early and he was still tired.

  Dawson yawned. He wondered how Sam managed to have so much day-time energy after her night-time wanderings … which she thought he didn’t know about.

  Rounding a bend in the road, the trees thinned to reveal Farina. Dawson squinted into the rising sun and caught his breath. The morning light made the town seem more vibrant.

  Not many tourists stopped at Farina. It wasn’t a place many people had heard of, despite the efforts of a local restoration group who’d put up signs and roped off the boundaries of the crumbling buildings. They had also restored the underground bakery, which operated a few days a year, attracting tourists. But today was not a bakery day, and the town was deserted.

  Farina was along the Outback Highway, a lengthy road that was sealed with bitumen most of the way, but became an unsealed, dirt and gravel road in the stretch from Leigh Creek to Marree. After Marree it led to the famous Oodnadatta Track – a long and rocky road (responsible for countless flat tyres) that wound its way across the harshest parts of South Australia to Oodnadatta. The track finally joined onto the Stuart Highway in a little fly-speck on the Australian map called Marla.

  Dawson was surprised that he remembered all this. Dad had spouted this information in the car on the way to Farina, as if he were spewing up the words from a swallowed guide book.

  But Dawson liked this place. Farina was interesting. Farina was different. Farina was a ghost town … which, he thought, was pretty cool.

  Dawson came to the edge of the town and looked around. He couldn’t see his sisters, but he could hear shouts and squeals echoing through the buildings.

  Then, in the distance, he saw Em chase Sam out from one dilapidated building into another across the road. Dawson wanted to yell out to be careful, just like Dad. But he knew it’d be useless. Sam would do whatever she wanted to do and ignore him. And Em would follow Sam.

  Dawson wandered down the street to where he had last spotted his sisters and peered in through the window. Sam dashed out from a pile of rubble, slapping Dawson on the back. ‘Daws is it,’ she cried out before disappearing into one of the buildings.

  Dawson sighed and headed after his sister half-heartedly. Dad’s instructions about being cautious and not running through the ‘broken building bits’ was playing on his mind. But Em’s giggles and Sam’s excitement soon drew him into the game. It wasn’t long before they were chasing each other through the streets of Farina, and in and out of the rubble.

  Dawson tagged Em as she ran down the middle of the main street, her pink dress flapping about her. He then took off into what was left of the Transcontinental Hotel, the first building after the twin signs that welcomed visitors to the town – ‘Farina’ and ‘est. 1878’.

  He raced through the entrance and bolted down the corridor. There were crumbling doorways with frames rotted away on either side. Dawson caught a glimpse of the drop through the first doorway on the right – down into something that might have been a cellar. He stopped part way along the corridor and looked back. Em was way behind, running her hardest, but obviously tiring. He decided that he’d let her catch him. He leaned against the wall and pretended to be too puffed to continue.

  Em staggered into the corridor and stopped, trying to catch her breath. Then, as she walked towards Dawson, Sam snuck up behind her. Em had almost reached Dawson when Sam yelled out BOO! Em squealed, jumped around and chased her.

  Dawson pushed off from the wall after his sisters. Here we go again, he thought.

  Sam dashed off and jumped down through the doorway into the cellar.

  Dawson gasped. No, he thought, not that way. It’s too dangerous.

  Em, not realising there was an upcoming drop, chased after her sister.

  Heart pounding, Dawson leaped forward.

  Eyes widening, Em screamed as she began to topple.

  Dawson grabbed her and pulled her back … just in time.

  Em collapsed onto the floor, breathing hard.

  ‘You idiot!’ Dawson shouted angrily after Sam, who was clambering up through a doorway on the other side. His hands were balled up into fists and his face was beetroot-red. ‘Don’t you think of anyone but yourself? You knew Em would follow you!’

  ‘Oh.’ Sam looked guiltily into the cellar, as if only just realising what she’d done. She was lost for words.

  The floorboards had rotted away years before. Bits of wood and debris were strewn across the earth floor. Anyone falling into that mess would be risking serious injury. In fact, Sam herself was lucky not to have been hurt, given she had jumped blindly down. There was a set of steps leading up to the outside of the building, but they were blocked with rubble.

  ‘S–Sorry,’ Sam said meekly. She walked around through the room she was now in, and back into the corridor.

  Dawson’s face was returning to normal colour, but he still looked furious.

  ‘I really am sorry,’ Sam repeated, edging past Dawson and crouching down beside Em. She avoided his gaze. ‘I was caught up in the game. I didn’t think.’

  ‘Yeah, well, we’ve had enough,’ said Dawson, hands on hips in an imitation of Dad. ‘No more chasey. Dad was right when he said no running through the ruins.’

  ‘TAG!’ shouted Em suddenly, slapping her sister’s leg before jumping to her feet. ‘You’re it!’

  She took off down the corridor, pushing past Dawson. Dawson steadied himself against the wall, worried he might now fall into the cellar.

  ‘I promise I’ll be more careful,’ said Sam. With a tentative grin, she tapped her brother’s arm and followed her younger sister. ‘You’re it,’ she called over her shoulder.

  ‘I’m not playing,’ insisted Dawson, scowling as his sisters ran out through the back doorway.

  Sam dashed past Em and started scrabbling up over some rubble. Em was on her tail, giggling all the way …

  Until she slipped.

  Sticking out her arm to brace herself, Em grazed it along a broken brick. She burst into tears, howling as if the arm was broken rather than simply scratched.

  Within seconds, Sam was at her side, crouching down and examining the wound. She knew that loud crying might bring Dad running, and that would definitely end their games.

  ‘Just a scrape,’ she reassured as she patted Em on her back. Her younger sister didn’t seem convinced.

  ‘Hey, I found something really cool before,’ said Sam.

  ‘What?’ Em’s lower lip was still sticking out, but there was a spark of interest in her eyes. Sam knew how to keep her sister under control.

  ‘Come and see,’ she said, holding out her hand.

  Em jumped to her feet, took her sister’s hand and allowed herself to be led off. The graze was forgotten.

  Sam saw Dawson leaning in the doorway, watching them. She looked away, still embarrassed by what had happened. Then glancing back, she saw him sigh, shake his head and follow. He’d forgive her. He always did.

  Sam led them across the road towards a small box-like building. There was a locked metal gate barring the entrance.

  ‘Look!’ she announced in a hushed voice. ‘A jail!’

  ‘Wow,’ Em gasped.

  ‘Do you think there might be bad guys locked up in there?’ asked Sam.

  ‘Oooooh!’ Em was positively bursting with excitement.

  ‘That’s not a jail,’ said Dawson, walking ahead of them to the metal bars and looking through. ‘It’s a bakery.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ challenged Sam. ‘If it’s a bakery, why are there bars on the door?’

  ‘You haven’t read any of the signs around here, have you?’ answered Dawson, pointing to the words beside
the building. ‘They keep the restored bakery locked up when it’s not being used so it doesn’t get damaged by tourists running through it.’ He looked pointedly at Sam.

  ‘Yeah, right.’ Sam remained defiant, unwilling to let Dawson spoil her fun.

  A bakery was clearly nowhere near as exciting as a jail to Em. Losing interest in the building, she suddenly slapped Sam on the arm and ran off, back to the crumbling hotel.

  Sam poked her tongue out at Dawson and gave chase.

  Dawson sighed again, and followed with an unenthusiastic jog.

  ‘Stop!’

  He looked around to see Dad walking up the main street towards them. ‘I don’t want you running around inside the ruins,’ he called.

  Dawson stopped. Sam disappeared into the building after Em.

  ‘Hey, come back!’ Dad marched up to the old hotel. He walked inside, hands going to his hips. ‘This isn’t funny,’ he shouted.

  Dawson, still out the front, heard giggles from around the back. Determined to help, he jogged to the side of the building, climbed over a pile of broken bricks and quickly found his sisters hiding behind a half-collapsed wall.

  ‘Run!’ laughed Sam.

  Em took off, heading for the corridor, Sam close behind. Dawson followed.

  As Em raced past Dad, he took a step back. His foot came down on a half brick, which shifted beneath him, and his leg twisted out from underneath causing him to fall backwards …

  Through the doorway …

  Down into the cellar.

  There was a sickening crunch.

  ‘Dad!’ yelled Sam, running to the edge.

  Dawson rushed up behind her. ‘What happened?’

  Sam couldn’t speak, she just pointed.

  Dawson looked past her, into the room below.

  Dad was lying on the dirt floor. His leg was at a weird angle.

  And he wasn’t moving.

  ‘Dad!’ Dawson shouted. ‘Dad! Dad!’ He looked around frantically, but the only steps down into the cellar were the blocked ones from outside.

  ‘Out of the way,’ said Sam, her voice panicky.

  Dawson stepped aside and Sam jumped into the room. It wasn’t as deep as a proper cellar, but it was high enough if you fell. Standing straight, Sam’s head almost reached the floor above. A full-grown adult would have had to stoop to enter the room when there had been a floor. It must have been purely for storage.

  Sam crouched over Dad. ‘He’s breathing,’ she called with relief.

  Dad groaned and shifted, but his eyes remained closed.

  ‘His leg,’ called Dawson, peering down. ‘It must be broken.’

  Sam took a closer look at the bent leg. ‘I think you’re right.’ She glanced up at Dawson. ‘Should I straighten it?’

  ‘How should I know?’ Dawson’s voice was as unsteady as Sam’s.

  ‘It might be better if I did,’ said Sam, uncertainly.

  ‘Or it might make it worse,’ countered Dawson.

  ‘We’ve gotta do something.’ Sam reached out and took hold of Dad’s foot.

  ‘Don’t!’ warned Dawson.

  Sam straightened the leg.

  ‘AHHHHHH!’ Dad screamed.

  Sam dropped his leg, a terrified look on her face.

  He screamed again. His eyes remained tightly shut.

  ‘We need help,’ said Sam, taking a step back from Dad.

  ‘The other campers,’ said Dawson. ‘They came after dark. I’ll go get them.’

  ‘No,’ said Sam, standing up. ‘I’m faster than you.’

  Dawson stepped back as Sam jumped and pulled herself up through the doorway. Without another word she was off, leaving Dawson alone with Dad.

  Dawson looked around nervously. He had to get into the cellar. It wasn’t very deep, but he couldn’t just jump down like Sam. He sat on the floor and swung his legs over the edge. Taking a deep breath he carefully slid off. It wasn’t a long drop, yet he still managed to stumble.

  He got down on his knees beside Dad and looked him over. He was shifting about and groaning, but his eyes were closed. There was a graze on his temple. He must have knocked his head when he fell.

  Dawson’s heart was pounding and his breathing was fast and ragged. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. What was he going to do?

  Dad’s eyes flickered open.

  ‘Son?’

  Sam sprinted through the ghost town. Her heart was thumping and her brain was throwing up the worst-case scenarios. What if no one can help? What if Dad is seriously hurt? What if he dies?

  As these thoughts swirled around in her mind, she ran. Faster than she had ever run before. No race or game had ever given her as much motivation as this.

  As she passed the gate with its campground rules and payment box, her heart sank. She was not going to get any help from the other campers …

  They were gone!

  ‘What happened?’ mumbled Dad, his voice weak and barely audible.

  ‘You fell,’ said Dawson. ‘We think your leg’s broken. And you’ve bumped your head. But don’t worry, Sam’s gone to get help.’

  ‘Where’s Emmie?’

  Dawson’s mouth hung open. He’d forgotten all about her. How could he have done that?

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘I don’t think she saw you fall. So she just kept running.’

  ‘You need to go and find her,’ said Dad, voice shaky, brow furrowed with concern.

  ‘But what about you?’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Go find her … bring her back here.’

  Dawson stood up. ‘Are you sure …’

  ‘I’m sure.’ He tried to smile, but it looked like a grimace. ‘I promise not to go anywhere until you get back.’

  Dawson put his hands up into the doorway and tried to pull himself up like Sam had done. He was a lot more awkward than she had been and it took him a couple of tries before he managed to hook his leg up. He pulled himself through on his stomach then stumbled to his feet.

  ‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ he said, looking down at Dad, whose eyes were now closed. That’s when he noticed a small dark patch of blood on Dad’s leg. He took a deep breath to quell his rising panic and ran out into the street.

  Em was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘EM!’ he shouted. ‘WHERE ARE YOU?’

  Silence.

  ‘EM!’ he tried again. ‘IT’S IMPORTANT! WHERE ARE YOU?’

  ‘YOU HAVE TO FIND ME.’

  The voice echoed around the ghost town, bouncing off the crumbling walls of empty buildings. It was hard for Dawson to work out where it was coming from.

  He was about to shout again, when he heard a noise from the next building. It sounded like falling rocks … as if someone was clambering over rubble.

  He rushed towards it.

  The other campers must have left while they were exploring the town.

  Sam stared at the payment box at the entrance to the camping ground. Dad had put money into the box when they’d arrived. He’d said that the campground was owned by people at next door’s farm – Farina Station.

  That was the answer! The farm!

  Sam ran back towards the town, stopping at the crossroads leading into it. Instead of continuing into the town, she turned right. Up ahead in the distance, she could see the farmhouse.

  She put on an extra burst of speed.

  Sam was exhausted by the time she got to the farmhouse and the few surrounding buildings. Racing up to the front door she knocked as hard as she could.

  And waited.

  No one came.

  She tried again, this time with both fists. Sam kept banging until her hands were too sore for her to continue.

  But still nothing. So she did a loop of the house, trying windows and the back door – but they were all locked.

  Sam took a deep breath to stop herself from collapsing into tears. Crying won’t help, she told herself. Dad needs me.

  But what could she do?

/>   Maybe the people who owned the farm were somewhere nearby, working. She tried shouting.

  ‘HELLO. IS ANYONE HERE?’

  No answer.

  She ran to the barn. A shed. Some other small building.

  ‘HELLO!’

  She finished up back at the farmhouse, her throat sore from shouting too loudly. Looking up at the building, she briefly thought of breaking in. But what if there was an alarm? Or worse … a guard dog.

  She put her hands up to her head, trying desperately to think of what to do. Then, off in the distance, across the barren ground, she saw something.

  Dust! A stirring of dust moving across the horizon.

  A vehicle of some sort. It might be the farmers. But she couldn’t tell which way the dust was heading. Closer? Farther?

  She wondered if she should try running towards it. But what if it was heading in the opposite direction? She would never catch it. And besides … she wasn’t even really sure what it was. Maybe it was a mob of emus crossing the landscape?

  Suddenly Sam laughed. A mob of emus? She shook her head and turned around.

  With no other options, she went back to town, her trembling legs slowing her pace.

  ‘Got you,’ said Dawson, finally cornering Em behind a pile of old bricks.

  It had taken him too long to catch her. He needed to get back to Dad. But first he had to explain things to his sister, without panicking her. He steadied himself and tried to keep his voice calm. ‘You’ve got to come with me. Dad’s hurt.’

  ‘What?’ asked Em, looking up at her big brother, her bright smile fading.

  ‘Dad fell when …’ Dawson stopped himself. There was no reason to upset Em by telling her that she had caused the accident. Besides, it was also Sam’s fault for telling her to run. Come to think of it, it was also his fault for running around the building to find them. ‘He fell and he’s hurt his leg. We’ve got to go back to him. Okay?’

  Em nodded but didn’t say anything. She stared at her brother, eyes wide and glistening, her expression tight.

  Dawson crouched down and brought his face level with Em’s. He placed his hands on her shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. He wished Sam was here. She was better at handling Em. But it was up to him now.