The Ruined Ones

Chapter Three

Twenty minutes south of the city they were approaching the next small town, but before the small, rural town came into sight, they knew what had happened there. The smoke billowing in their direction was enough to stop them in their tracks.

"Do you think Cambooya's completely burnt out?" Katrina asked—as if yes wasn't the only possible answer.

"I reckon there's a high chance of that, dear," Alfred said. "There's a dirt road a little further up that we can take. It leads to a property, but it's off to the left so it's heading in the opposite direction the wind's blowing. We might be able to find some off-road tracks on the properties that lead further south and head through the paddocks. It might be best we avoid the highways from now on anyway. Also, we might be able to stop at the house there for a bit—figure things out a little better."

"Yeah? What about the people that live there?" Lewis asked. "What if they don't let us stop in there for a bit?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Katrina asked.

"Some people just aren't the hospitable sort, Kat," Lewis said. "Not everyone's as nice as you."

"We have to check it out, son—it may be our only chance right now."

Lewis didn't argue any further, even though the dissent in his face was obvious. His father was right. They didn't have any other choice.

So, Shaun took the turn off about a hundred meters further up. None of them spoke for a while, leaving the only sound the monotonous grinding of the tyres flogging at the dirt road beneath them.

Shaun stared straight ahead, focused on the road, while Katrina in the front passenger seat beside him, stared blankly out of the window—not exactly watching the trees whipping past, just gazing into a world of lost thought. Her right hand was laying on her stomach, caressing the spot which would, in time, balloon outwards as the child inside her grew. Silent tears poured from her almost piercing green eyes as terrible thoughts pervaded her mind.

She had miscarried with their first baby three years ago, after making it through almost six euphoric months of pregnancy. This time, Katrina had known right from the first sight of those two little pink lines on the pregnancy test stick, that she would spend every day fretting until the baby was safe in her arms.

Now, with the troubles that lay ahead—an uncertain future which no amount of planning and caution could save them from—her fear had intensified a hundred-fold. In a world where they would be spending every waking moment in fear of their lives, where any day might be their last, how was her baby who was not yet a son or a daughter, meant to have a chance?

Her troubled thoughts were interrupted as Shaun announced he could see a house up ahead. The dwelling was a run-down old place, with paint peeling off the walls and the tin roof. The uncovered porch stretching across the front of the house also looked as if it had seen better days—a couple of the support posts that had held the railing up were missing all together. The place had an empty feel to it, though despite there being no vehicle in sight, they could hear hens clucking somewhere nearby. If there were chickens here, then there was someone who fed them.

They approached the house with caution, Lewis and Shaun in the lead, Alfred and Katrina following closely behind.

"Wait here while I go knock," Shaun said.

As she watched her husband climb the steps to the verandah, hoping that none of them gave way beneath his weight, something brushed past Katrina's bare leg. She jumped back, startled for a moment. She realized it was just a cat before she even looked down—its soft meowing giving it away.

She shooed the feline away gently with her foot. She didn't hate cats, but she didn't like them much either. They were cagey animals—secretive. She used to have a cat when she was younger and it often disappeared all day, returning only for meals. Sometimes it would be gone for two or three days, though it always came back. When it would return, it always seemed to have a mysterious gleam in its eyes, of a secret only it would ever know—or so Katrina fancied.