Scarlett edged into the driver’s seat of her van, then winched her wheelchair up and into the back. She had already loaded the van with sheets, blankets, the mattresses from the banana lounges, as well as the two boxes that comprised her first-aid kit, first begun when she was twelve years old.
Jed shoved another pile of blankets into the back of her sports car. Scarlett looked at her bulk critically. ‘We should drive in together.’
Jed already looked tired. ‘We might need both cars. You head off now. I’ll be right behind you. I’ll leave a big gap so there’s no chance I’ll run into you.’
Scarlett glanced up at the pulsing red and orange sky, the only colour in this world of twilit smoke. Götterdämmerung, she thought, the twilight of the gods. It didn’t seem right to set out alone in this, or to leave Jed in a car alone either. But it was only twenty minutes into town, maybe five minutes more in this gloom. And Jed would be right behind her. And Dr McAlpine needed help . . .
‘See you soon then,’ she said, then held her arms out to signal that she expected a hug and kiss. Jed had learned how to do both since she’d been at Gibber’s Creek, but still needed reminding.
Scarlett drove slowly down the driveway, watching in her rear-vision mirror as Jed looked around for a last check. She glanced up again at the flame-scorched sky, then braked. She wouldn’t drive off till she actually saw Jed behind her. What if a tree came down on the road in this wind and Jed couldn’t get past it? Or it even fell on Jed’s car?
She’d wait till she saw her get into the driver’s seat, as the sheep clustered, scared, at the edge of the paddocks furthest from the wind and the trees tossed twigs and leaves into the black-painted air.
This was not a day to be alone.