Ironbark Creek: Home, Land and Country

By David Stanley

Ironbark Creek: Home, Land and Country is the third book in the Ironbark Creek trilogy. In it, Cathy, Jack and others resolve to travel to Darwin and try to rescue the captives there. The community at Ironbark Creek though face other challenges as the Global Reset Consortium seek their capture or destruction. However, their biggest threat comes from closer to home as they all fight to survive in the dystopian new world after the ‘turning’.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press AU
• Release date: Jan 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781982293406

David Stanley

David has lived and worked in rural and remote parts of Australia and Africa. He has an extensive academic publication history, and this is his 4th fiction novel. He also writes and performs Australian bush poetry.

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Copyright © 2021 David Stanley.

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Interior Image Credit: David Stanley

Cover Illustration: Stephen Stanley

ISBN: 978-1-9822-9339-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-9340-6 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 01/07/2022

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Prelude: The Story of Dinawan

Chapter 1 The Lucky Country

Chapter 2 New Country

Chapter 3 Cross-Country

Chapter 4 Bluegrass Country

Chapter 5 Country Music

Chapter 6 Opal Country

Chapter 7 Home Country

Chapter 8 Heart of the Country

Chapter 9 Countryside

Chapter 10 Country Roads

Chapter 11 Country Roads, Take Me Home

Chapter 12 Country Club

Chapter 13 Country Bumpkins

Chapter 14 Country Roads, Take Me Home to a Place…

Chapter 15 Up Country

Chapter 16 Country Folk

Chapter 17 Low Country

Chapter 18 Country Boy

Chapter 19 The Country Dance

Chapter 20 Countrywide

Chapter 21 Country Girls

Chapter 22 Sweet Country

Chapter 23 Healing Country

For Karen, a wife

and friend

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

T HIS BOOK FOLLOWS THE FIRST two books about the effects of a global pandemic on the people of Ironbark Creek, Ironbark Creek and Ironbark Creek Bloodlines . The third book Ironbark Creek: Home, Land and Country is possible because I was fortunate enough to have had some terrific feedback about both books, and as such, I felt encouraged to continue the story and complete the trilogy. I also felt compelled to finish the story and draw the adventure of Cathy and Jack to a conclusion. The work of developing the story started in 2018 and on top of other commitments has been challenging, but I hope you find the book both an exciting and rewarding read.

As with the first and second books, many people, books, TV shows, and films about zombies have inspired this story, and again, many people have helped with its development and production. Indeed, some of the character names in this book are inspired by previous authors and film directors who have influenced the zombie genre. As with the first two books, my brother Peter provided excellent editorial support and offered some great comments about the plot lines. As with all my projects, my wife, Karen, was also kind enough to listen to hours of plot discussion and read the early drafts. This book is dedicated to her. Their contributions were invaluable.

Jona Taylor from Balboa Press AU supported the book’s initial development. Jona was followed by Jim Manon, Grace Ben, Vanessa Sims, and Marj Madkins, who also offered excellent advice and guidance throughout Balboa Press’s production and marketing process. The Balboa Press editorial team also offered excellent support. Finally, I would like to acknowledge the wonderful contribution of my other brother Stephen, who provided the cover illustration for this and the first and second books in the series. The covers depict an Ironbark tree, for which the creek is named.

As I am not an Indigenous person or female, I again asked for help from a female member of the local Wiradjuri community. Again, I was provided with advice from a consultant who reviewed the book for its tone and its appropriate representation of the Indigenous characters portrayed. She read the book to ensure it did justice to Indigenous culture and the Indigenous characters and provided some insightful and relevant advice. I am again very blessed that she was able to offer her truly wonderful Indigenous insight. I feel fortunate to have found this input and very much value the advice offered. Although she does not want to be named, I cannot thank her enough.

The opening story of Dinawan is based on some First Nations words and parts of a Dreamtime story that I have heard. Indeed, the story of Goorialla, the Rainbow Serpent and of the emu Dinawan is well known as a dreamtime fable. However, I have embellished the story with insights gained during my travels in Africa; so that the story is basically a fiction I have embellished and created. Dinawan and other Indigenous names or words used in the story are authentic First Nations words I came across from hearing or reading Indigenous stories, but the additional parts of the story are influenced by stories I heard while working and travelling in southern and eastern Africa.

You should be advised, dear reader, that the story of Ironbark Creek, including Ironbark Creek: Home, Land and Country, is a dystopian tale that has reference to zombies. Therefore, it includes several encounters with brain-and flesh-eating undead monsters. The book is not for the squeamish, although I hope you will find it is so much more than a survival or dystopian tale. At its heart, this is the story of courage and triumph over adversity. It is about teamwork and the power of community. My hope is that as well as telling an engaging story, it celebrates Indigenous culture, Indigenous empowerment, and Indigenous strength, and I hope it offers a path for a more inclusive and cooperative world.

I should add that this is a work of fiction. Characters, institutions, and organisations mentioned in this novel (and the others in the series) are either a product of the authors imagination or if real, used factiously without any intent to describe actual conduct or behaviour. As well, please be assured that I am also very much in favouir of the use of vaccinations for the prevention of a host of contagious diseases (including COVID-19 and its variants). There is copious evidence that vaccines have saved millions of lives and changed the world into a safer, healthier place. The virus described in these books is in no way related to the current global pandemic and the book is a work of fiction, set in a fictional place (Ironbark Creek) and with a fictional virus and vaccine. Any resemblance to other viruses or vaccines is purely coincidental.

Thank you too for reading this book. David

PRELUDE

The Story of Dinawan

A T THE BEGINNING OF THE Dreamtime, there were no animals, trees, rivers, mountains, and grasslands. One day, Goorialla, the Rainbow Serpent, crossed every part of the dry, flat country that became Australia, looking for his mob, but he found nothing. After searching for a long time, he grew tired and lay down to sleep. However, the land he slept on was changed, and when he woke from his sleep, he realised that his long, smooth body had cut great gouges into the land. Goorialla lay in the sand, looking at the new deep gorges and valleys, but he suddenly felt alone, and so he decided to bring other animals and life into the world.

First Goorialla brought forth water to the land. Without it nothing could grow or live. The water filled the valleys and gorges and made the rivers, creeks, and streams you see today.

As the water flowed, the rivers spread. All over the land, grass, bush, and trees began to grow and fill the land with colour. Now that there were grasses to eat and water to drink, Goorialla woke the other animals. He called for the animals to, Come out! The kookaburra laughed, the goanna walked, the brolga danced, and the wombat climbed out of her burrow, all for the first time. Some animals lived in the sea, swimming back and forth. Some animals lived on the land, digging and playing in the sand, and some animals lived in the sky, flying above to distant places. They were happy and gathered food and water to bring back to their own tribes. The Rainbow Serpent made rules that all animals had to obey.

He said, All animals that obey the rules will be rewarded, and the animals that disobey the rules will be punished.

The greatest bird of all was the emu. He was called Dinawan, the King of the Birds. He was the biggest bird, and his white plumage was magnificent. He had three enormous talons on each foot, and he was lean and swift with a wingspan that could hide the sun. He was so big it took vast amounts of meat to feed him, and soon the other birds—the hawk, the eagle, and the kookaburra—went to the Rainbow Serpent and complained.

The emu is magnificent, but we are starving because he is eating all the meat. Can you help us?

The Rainbow Serpent listened to their complaint and agreed that the King of the Birds was becoming too greedy, so at night, when Dinawan slept, the Rainbow Serpent clipped his wings and made sure the King of Birds could no longer fly. When Dinawan woke, he was furious and tried to catch the birds and punish them, but they all flew up into the sky where Dinawan could no longer reach them.

Still he was their king, and as he could no longer hunt or fly, he demanded that each bird bring him a portion of the meat they caught. Dinawan sat in his nest with his magnificent white plumage, eating the food the other birds brought to him. Sitting there, he became fat and lazy but still demanded more meat to eat.

The other birds—the hawk, the eagle, and the kookaburra—went back to Goorialla and complained, The emu is magnificent, but we are still hungry because he’s eating much of the meat and we can’t feed our own young. Can you help us?

The Rainbow Serpent listened to their complaint and agreed that the King of the Birds was still too greedy, so that night, when Dinawan slept, Goorialla singed all his plumage with fire as punishment for his greed. When Dinawan woke, he was now brown and grey, and his magnificent white plumage was gone. Dinawan was so embarrassed and ashamed of his greed and now-dull appearance that he hid in the bush, afraid to come out. That night, he went to talk to the Rainbow Serpent.

I am sorry, the emu said. I can see I was greedy and vain, but I want to fly and look magnificent again. Can you help me?

The Rainbow Serpent thought for a long while. Yes, I will grant your wish, but your kin will always walk the land and live like the lowest of the birds, the Mallee Fowl, scratching in the dirt and eating what they find in the earth. But you, Dinawan, King of the Birds, you will fly and look magnificent forever.

Then the Rainbow Serpent sent Dinawan into the night sky (Mulaa Wir) where he flies every night, and his plumage is the bright band of stars that make up the Milky Way. From there, Dinawan watches over his kin, his home, and the birds he once ruled.

CHAPTER 1

The Lucky Country

C ATHY SAT UNCOMFORTABLY ON A fold-up chair on the front veranda of her house. It was a glorious late March day. The sun cut through the air and rested on the earth like a knife. Cathy was glad she was in the shade. She took a sip of coffee and waited for the familiar wave of nausea to rise and settle in her throat. She let out a long sigh as the coffee sank to her stomach, and the expected nausea failed to follow. She smiled and looked out over the small community. As a First Nations person, she was happiest on her own traditional lands, her country. She held the coffee mug in one hand and rubbed her belly with the other. Her belly was growing a little each day, and she felt both relaxed and glad. She was also very tired but relieved that her two boys and the other Indigenous people had been rescued. Her ankle was still bound and rested on a small stool before her. She had walked to her seat with some pain and with the aid of a walking stick. She had also broken a rib or two in her fall onto the deck of the Boston , which caused some difficulty breathing even as she sat.

Two weeks had passed since their chase to Sydney, the battle to rescue the captives and her children, and all her injuries were mending well. Jack also recovered quickly. His leg wound was not serious, and while he hobbled for a few days, he was soon striding about as usual.

Jack came and stood next to her. He was limping only a little now, and he rubbed his injured leg as he stood. He was tall and in his late twenties, but his hair was going grey, and his pale skin looked battered and scarred by his efforts fighting the ambos, the community’s word for the turned.

He smiled and looked down at Cathy. Nice day. Hot one coming. He bent and kissed her cheek. Then he placed his hand over hers as she continued to rub her belly. I still can’t believe I’m going to be a father, he said softly.

Cathy smiled. I can’t believe it either. She squeezed his hand and cheekily winked up at him. What was I thinking? she jested.

Hey, Jack said, pretending to be hurt at her joke as he drew his hand away quickly. They each giggled like high school children in love for the first time. Will you talk to Wyatt and Noah today?

The giggles stopped with the question, and Cathy was drawn back into the seriousness of their situation. She took a sip of coffee. Yes, it’s time.

Cathy could see many of the community members going about their work. They had been busy since their return, but she knew there were still some important things to do.

Deepak and Darren saw to it that the fence line, especially near the sally port where the marines had broken into the community, was improved and guarded by one of the community members at all times. They had only ever seen the sally port gate as an escape or exit, but the incursion of the marines and their abduction of the Indigenous members of the community had convinced everyone that the eastern side of the fence line needed greater protection.

Laurie and Bert had supervised the construction of a new lookout tower near the main gate and on the eastern side of the boundary fence, and soon they were able to observe the approaches to the community from the south, east, and west. While they were building the sally port tower, Laurie had found the small tracking devise abandoned in the dirt. Art the American marine lieutenant, had thrown it there on his retreat with the Indigenous captives before they had been taken to Sydney. He took it to Cathy and Jack, who recognised it as the same sort of device that Jack had removed from his leg in Sydney and that Laurie had found in Roger’s Global Rest Consortium’s (GRC) leather bag. They showed it to Rose, the American female marine sergeant who had stayed with them after the battle in Sydney, and she advised its immediate destruction. Jack used the hilt of his knife to destroy the small silver object.

Once it was in pieces, Jack said, That should be the end of our troubles with the GRC.

Rose looked sceptical but didn’t say anything.

Trees obscured the creek line to the north of the community, and the deep creek bank to the north of the compound remained their primary weak spot. Jack and Laurie decided this should be a priority once the new tower had been completed.

Rose had been slow to embrace her new surroundings. Like Jenny, the Chinese pilot, she had never been to Australia before, and the gum trees, kangaroos, dry paddocks, long, slow sunsets, and peacefulness of the bush were all new to her. She struggled to comprehend it all after growing up on the busy, noisy streets of New York City. There were other new sounds to adjust to: the sound of kookaburras calling the day into being and the screech of red-tailed cockatoos and their cousins, the sulphur-crested cockatoos. At first, they alarmed her as they flew low overhead, squawking loudly. There was also the constant mooing of the cattle and the sound of the wind as it blew through the gum tree branches at the creek and the watchtowers near the gates. Soon they were a welcome reminder that she was in a new land. She felt safe here, away from the continuing zombie war in the United States and the global reset being played out by the rich assholes she had once served. She moved into a cabin of her own, and after a few sleepless nights, she slowly became accustomed to her new world. She felt genuinely happy and thought she really was in a lucky country.

The community too soon adjusted to having new members. Noah and Wyatt had come from Darwin. Noah made friends with Maurice, the Aboriginal Elder who’d come from Port Augusta, and the other Aboriginal men, and he saw Wyatt less, although they remained strong friends. Noah and Cathy spoke at length about the situation in Darwin, where the Indigenous community leaders had taken control of the city and locked up all the non-Indigenous people. Cathy also wanted to speak with Wyatt, but she was waiting until she felt rested and ready. Cathy wanted to understand why things had deteriorated in Darwin and what, if anything, they could do about it.

Julie and Barry continued to live in the little house in front of their growing chicken stock. Barry, an ex-soldier, was becoming frustrated as his slowly healing broken leg kept him away from the action and prevented him from fighting to save Ironbark Creek. He had been with the others in the fight at Sydney, but Julie could see that he was feeling restricted and unable to help as much as he’d wanted to, and he could see Rose and Jenny contributing more than he could.

Cathy asked Julie, with her increasing technical knowledge, to examine the two solar-powered vehicles and see if she could replicate the technology and build other vehicles or motors that used the power of the sun. Cathy hoped that they could save their limited fuel supply. Julie jumped at the opportunity, and she spent hours each day exploring and testing the solar panels and the power they generated. Julie had announced to Cathy that she suspected she was expecting a baby, although she was only in the early stages of the pregnancy. But Cathy thought something didn’t sound right. Although Julie put on a happy face, Cathy wondered if being pregnant were something Julie was pleased about. It must be the added stress of these challenging times, Cathy concluded.

As Cathy rested and the day wore on, Noah and Wyatt joined her on the veranda. Wyatt reluctantly explained the situation in Darwin, how he had escaped and how he and Noah had survived by helping each other in Camooweal. Their use of solar-powered cars intrigued Cathy, and she asked how efficient they were. Wyatt and Noah had found them at Elliott in the Northern Territory and used them to travel to Ironbark Creek.

Wyatt said, Finding the solar cars was more a case of good luck than good planning, but the car saved my life.

As he spoke, he was reminded that Noah had been trying to catch and maybe even kill him when they had met in the garage. Noah, though, had abandoned his role as a hunter for the Darwin Indigenous City Committee (ICC), and the two men had helped each other survive and get to Ironbark Creek. With the revelation came thoughts that Wyatt had cast from his mind for weeks. Noah had saved me, but why?

Noah was open and clear as he talked about Darwin, although as their conversation progressed, Wyatt became more and more withdrawn. Wyatt was lost in his darker thoughts when something suddenly snapped in him. The trauma and violence of the attacks in Sydney, the realisation that the leader of the Ironbark Creek community was an Indigenous woman, and the possibility that he might be asked to return to Darwin preyed on his mind. When Cathy asked if Wyatt would be keen to go back to Darwin to help the other white people there, a cloud of doubt and concern engulfed him, and he closed down abruptly.

As Cathy and Noah continued to talk, Cathy noticed something had changed in Wyatt’s demeanour. The question acted like a hammer blow, and it made Wyatt withdraw from the discussion. He contributed less and less in response to Cathy’s questions, and it seemed to Cathy that he had become distracted and anxious. Noah was discussing something about the structure of the ICC and the capture of white and non-Indigenous people when Wyatt stood and limped away. He still used his crutches at times, but his gait was improving, and the power was returning to his legs so that more and more, he walked or hobbled without them. Cathy thought, He seems to be upset or at least distracted.

Noah shrugged as his younger white friend walked off. He had seen something change too, but he couldn’t really explain or understand it.

Cathy asked, Have I said something too close to the bone?

No, Noah replied. He’s just traumatised by what happened. He was a key part of the community in Darwin. A person who helped build the city’s defences, and then he was no one, worse than no one. He was a white man in a black man’s world. He saw friends die. He saw his friends locked up, and in some cases, he saw friends treated in ways that were worse than death. He told me once that someone he cared for had been locked up and he felt helpless and guilty to have escaped without her.

Noah paused, and his head dropped. The Indigenous City Committee made the rules. They were not all bad people, but their rules were clumsy or ill-conceived all the same. Some of them thought it was time to turn the tables and get their own back. Some people just went too far, often because they had also been traumatised and treated poorly before the world changed. There’s no excuse, but I saw it myself and wasn’t proud. It was why I didn’t want to go back.

Noah went on, Wyatt’s okay most of the time, and we’ve become good mates, but I think there is still something deep in his heart that aches, a part that cries out for justice, revenge, or a resolution. Noah took a breath. He’s a good man, but what they… What we did to him… what the ICC did to him and what he had to go through to get away was wrong.

Cathy knew about injustice, prejudice, and the trauma of being alone, apart, or abandoned. She had often been different or marginalized. In her nurse training, she had faced the snide remarks of senior nurses, the cruel bias of more powerful nurses, and the simple bitchiness of some of her student colleagues. She thought about Anthea, the nurse at Wellington who had tried to bring her down with scorn and disrespect. Anthea was a bully, and she had always been on alert when she was about. Anthea had nearly destroyed their chances of survival at Ironbark Creek. Cathy knew what bullies were like and what it felt like to be traumatised and lost.

Noah’s voice cut into her thoughts. He was good on our journey to Ironbark Creek, but something has changed these last few weeks. His leg’s improving each day, healing and getting stronger. His heart, though, is troubled. I can see it.

Cathy wanted to know more. Will he talk to Jack?

Maybe, Noah said. He doesn’t talk much with me these days. Maybe he’ll talk more to a white man. But something’s changed.

Cathy knew about the effects of post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, and she could see that while his leg was healing, Wyatt was withdrawing, emotionally, little by little. Perhaps other issues were coming to the surface for him. She made a mental note to speak to him again or to get Jack to talk with him.

-0-

Fay and June had both come from Port Augusta with the group that had escaped the oncoming ambo horde led by two greys the year before. They had arrived with Bill, Gavin, and Ann, and both were young single mothers who soon became firm friends. They contributed greatly to the community and took over the community’s baking and butchery responsibilities. June was blonde and fair-skinned, shy, and withdrawn, while Fay was taller and darker-skinned, bubbly, and outspoken. Theirs was an incongruous partnership although their friendship blossomed as they worked closely together. Fay had come from Italian heritage, and she liked to boast about her cooking skills. June was quieter by far, and while she didn’t boast much, the community soon came to recognise the value of her butchery skills.

June’s baby was only a toddler, and some of the younger children in the community became willing babysitters while June worked. Fay’s older child, Layton, had joined the other older boys looking after the cattle and other livestock, and he was becoming good friends with Lance and Andrew. Shelby had recovered from the bite on his backside, but the shame of being bitten on the bum lingered until he realised his wound was something of a novelty. He had been attacked in the closing stages of the battle in Coolah, and the group was sure he would die from his wound and turn. But he had not, and although Shelby had white skin, it confirmed for Shelby the truth of an old family rumour, that he had an Indigenous heritage. This had allowed him to survive the bite. However, the wound took a long time to heal.

Cathy said, That in the world before the turned had arrived, he would have needed a skin graft.

Still, she had done her best. He had survived, and he had a wicked scar to brag about. Shelby was often found showing it off whenever anyone asked about the ambo battle near Coolah. With his family secret about his Aboriginal heritage confirmed, he was fond of saying as he displayed the bite scar, This scar is a badge of honour of my Aboriginal past. No one was more surprised about Shelby embracing his Aboriginal blood than Shelby.

After their ordeal at the hands of the marines, the First Nations people in the community formed a close bond. Maurice was the oldest Aboriginal man in the community, and he had been an Elder on his own lands near Port Augusta and at Ironbark Creek everyone recognised him as a senior ‘Elder’, but he often said, Here this is Cathy’s land, I am just a welcome guest. Cathy, well everyone really, warmed to him and he reminded Cathy of Fred, her uncle, who had died in their conflict with the bikers. Maurice grew closer to his three children, and Ajay was welcomed as part of his extended family. All the Indigenous members of the community found themselves united by the trauma of their assault and capture, and they were all grateful for Cathy and Jack’s part in their safe return.

-0-

The firepit remained the community’s main focus each evening. There, they came together to gossip, share their stories and dreams, and make plans for the future. Since surviving the attack and capture by the marines, the people had found new reasons to be optimistic. Wyatt took some time to adjust to the practice of meeting around the firepit. He explained to Cathy one evening when she checked in with him that he’d been happier on his own. She said she understood, but she reassured him that he was welcome whenever he was in the mood to join them. He had done so a few times, but he never felt completely comfortable with them or, more correctly, with the group of Indigenous people at the firepit. He always got on well with Noah, and he always found time for his older, Indigenous friend. But he didn’t know or want to get to know the others. He respected Cathy. She had shown her bravery going after her kids and the others and in facing the big grey. He thought he even liked her. But he didn’t know or want to get to know the others, so he avoided them at the firepit. He wouldn’t admit to it in case it caused conflict. Wyatt simply kept to himself, helped the community if he could, and played up his injured leg if this kept him away from too much contact with others.

Julie and some of the others visited the Wellington Library often, and the community had built a large collection of books as a result. Julie had been reading a number of books about castles and medieval warfare, and she contemplated the issue of a drawbridge-style bridge over the trench. The books outlined some of the styles of the drawbridge that various castles used, and it had fed her imagination and creative spark. She approached Bert and Jack with her ideas and sought their advice and help to find the material needed to build a drawbridge. She sat up one night to draft plans for a bridge and then sent off the men to locate the resources she thought would be needed. It took only a few days to complete the drawbridge construction. They used parts of a number of aluminum stockyard fences to build the new bridge. The material was strong and light, and they attached a pulley system that was linked to a chain cable that ran back inside the walls near the main gate. Julie had constructed a gear system that was driven by an old V8 petrol motor with a cylinder that rolled in or fed out the cable to raise and lower the bridge. The engine was powerful enough to lift the bridge, and the structure, although light, was still strong enough to handle the weight of the vehicles they had in the compound.

Only the APC, or armoured personnel carrier that Jack had brought back from Bathurst before their fight with the two greys, was too heavy for the bridge. Julie suggested they park the APC near the storage shed and use it to store any explosives the community had. Julie and Jenny had been unable to repair its damaged tracks, and Barry, still struggling with his painful and slowly healing leg, became even more frustrated as he was unable to help with the repair work.

The drawbridge was able to be lifted up and away from the trench and secured in the upright position, cutting off anyone from driving or even rushing at the main gate. Everyone was impressed with the bridge, and Julie’s design and construction work was celebrated with the traditional smashing of a bottle of wine across the structure. This was followed by a party around the firepit that evening. Even Wyatt forgot his suspicions and relaxed for a short while, as almost everyone celebrated their engineering feet. Only Barry remained aloof. He felt useless and resentful that his partner, Julie, was able to contribute so much while he could do little else but look on impotently.

-0-

Jack found Wyatt in the storage shed. He was looking over the community’s weapons store and sorting out ammunition.

You were lucky to get all these weapons from the Chinese, Wyatt said as Jack approached. Jack said, We have a lot to thank the Chinese for, although I can’t say I fully understand their interest in helping us. They’ve provided the guns, ammunition, and some other supplies, and we’d have been lost without Jenny.

Jack added, They warned us twice about the greys and the ambo horde that were coming our way.

Wyatt had seen his first grey in Sydney. It was huge, at least nine feet tall, with light-grey skin and built like a brick dunny. He was amazed that the community at Ironbark Creek had fought off two of them and a massive ambo horde at the Creek and killed the one on the Sydney harbour bridge. They’d have not survived without Jenny’s help he knew.

But was it luck, Wyatt thought, or was there something else going on that the community didn’t know about? He found his mind had been drawn to more sceptical thinking, and it often drifted toward negative or pessimistic possibilities. Wyatt caught his thoughts swinging toward the dark side again. He couldn’t help it.

Wyatt sat on a small barrel. It was the arrival of the Chinese in Darwin that upset the situation there. I was surprised to see that their tentacles had reached you lot as well, he said with a tone of disappointment. I thought you would have been more independent, you know, more self-sufficient.

We do pretty well, Jack said in the community’s defence. We grow plenty of crops, we have the cattle and chickens, and like you can see, we have plenty of weapons and vehicles.

Oh no, I didn’t mean… Wyatt began starting an apology.

Jack continued, We don’t turn away help if it’s offered. I don’t think we would have survived if we had. In this new world, working together is vital.

I get the benefits of taking help from the Chinks, but working with the Abos? Wyatt forgot whom he was talking to, and he expressed his view in a disrespectful tone. One he’d told himself he’d put behind him. Clearly it was still not far from the surface.

Jack was shocked, taken back, and he