The secret government department collapses in on itself like a house of cards. I turn briefly to watch it, before I pivot and sprint towards the exit. The fire crackles and shrieks as though it’s alive. Throwing open the door with one hand while holding Cindii’s calf with the other, I see my team assembled Under the DomeTM. Well, I see the whites of their eyes. It’s pitch black under the plastic bubble. A huge cluster of taipans are squirming and slithering atop. They knot together to form a massive black-brown, beady-eyed, yellow-bellied screamfest. I’m absolutely sure we’re all going to die.
“How is plastic wrap keeping them out?” I wonder aloud.
Jay pipes up. “It’s industrial strength…” he winks. “And we’ve got an air compressor here, blowing it up against their weight.” He brushes a perfectly manicured hand through his Ken doll hair. He’s not bloody Safari Ken, he’s online shopper Ken.
Gently, I lower Cindii down and give her a tight squeeze. Her breasts rub against mine and, for some unfathomable reason, I picture us kissing. It’s been a helluva a few hours and I can’t think straight. I gaze around the half circle before my eyes alight on a group of shabby-looking, extremely worn-out men. “Guys!” I holler.
Standing in a corner of the dome are the men from the secret government department.
Bluey walks over to me. “I’ve got some bad news.”
“What?” I say, frowning.
“The bloke you call Shadow Guy. He didn’t make it. But don’t be sad. He believes in the afterlife.”
I drop my bottom lip, truly miserable until I realise Shadow Guy is quite likely a vampire, and will come back in the sequel. My heart lifts at the thought.
The officers all lean in for a group hug. Even though they don’t seem to be very well trained, I do have a soft spot for them.
I break away and say, “This is really sweet and everything, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut the hugging short. We’re in a state of emergency here.”
Clapping my hands for attention, I say, “Bluey, you get working on those weather forecasts, see if you can detect a pattern.” He nods and jogs to the corner where a make-shift desk has been erected from old milk crates.
“OK,” I say to Jay and Cindii. “The only way for us to get to safety is to head to a salt-water source. Taipans don’t like salty water, and we can tread…”
Jay interrupts, “Great plan. But how do we know which way to go?”
I look up at the blanket of black above. Will the yellow-bellied snake corpus stop our GPS from receiving a signal? The dome sags under the weight of the taipans and it won’t be long before we suffocate under the plastic. We’re running out of time!
“Bluey, check the satellite navigation, does it work?”
Bluey fiddles with a bunch of buttons and shakes his head sadly. “Nothing.”
We are so close to a solution. Even a salt-water puddle would be enough at this juncture. There’s nothing left to do, except, “Guys, I’m going to give myself to the cause.” The group collectively gasp. “It’s OK,” I say, forcing a smile onto my face. “If I suit up in one of those parachute jumpsuits Jay uses for fieldwork, I can get close enough to a water source and let you know which way to move.”
Jay pipes up, “But how? We won’t be able to see you.”
Bluey points. “With this,” he hands me a didgeridoo. “I dragged it from the building, couldn’t let it burn. We won’t be able to see you, but we’ll hear you.” I nod my thanks.
The pilot ambles over, “Women are actually forbidden to play the didgeridoo.”
Shit, he’s right.
The pilot takes the instrument from my hands. “I’ll go.”
I shake my head vehemently. “But you’ll die!”
“I’m still a little woozy from the injection, I probably won’t feel a thing anyway.”
The group look from me to the pilot. Cindii purses her lips and gives me a small nod.
The dome sags again under the weight of the taipans, so we drop to our knees.
I shrug. “OK.” The wind picks up just as we’re about to lift the flap of the tent and it makes an eerie, ghost-like wooooo. The plastic wrap undulates, the thrashing, squirming snakes seem to change shape often, like a shoal of fish, pointing and darting their slick, slithery bodies like some kind of code.
I gather the pilot in my arms and make a whole bunch of promises I can’t keep. Before I can overthink it, I lift the delicate plastic wrap and push him out, prodding him with the didgeridoo, which he pulls through the gap with him. He doesn’t say a word, just stares into my eyes with a look that makes me sad.
That done, we stand together, hands over our mouths, knowing we’ll never see the pilot again.
The pulsating, haunting echo of the didgeridoo rings out.
Cindii’s eyes go wide with surprise. “But how? He couldn’t have found salt water that fast, surely?”