by Leo Nix
“Just do what you can, buddy. What's your status regarding fuel and personnel?”
“There's Murph, myself and Emily, civilian. We left two female civilians at Meekatharra. Fuel is holding up. We've got a stop-over coming up in a day or two, Bluey organised it for us before we left. He's contacted the family there so they're expecting us. Over.”
“We're doing OK here, we'll need some more water soon though. The puddle we're using is shrinking fast in this heat. I've yet to contact Tonto about their contact with the terrorists last night, do you have any news? Over.”
“I'm about to do that, sir. If you stay connected we can have a conference call… Tonto? Do you copy?” Pipeline was hoping to hear the news from Meekatharra, but Joey was either busy, knocked out, running, or maybe he was still asleep.
“Pipeline, Maverick, this is Goldmine, Tonto is busy. We spoke late last night, the terrorists are exterminated - like the stinking vermin they are. The fella's at Meekatharra have been celebrating. Over,' came Bluey's distinct voice.
“Goldmine, this is Maverick, that's good news indeed. Any news on numbers and casualties? Over”
“Yes, good news indeed, Maverick. One terrorist vehicle, five occupants killed, no survivors. No casualties our end either. Our Meekatharra miners and bushwhackers know how to fight. Over.”
“Thanks, Goldmine, this is Pipeline. Is there any other news? Anything from Obi-Wan? Over.”
“Radio chatter suggests a contact with the biker gang out Warburton way. It seems like they had some fun, your friends left behind some casualties and upset the leadership there. Obi-Wan and crew seem to be fine, over.”
“Copy that, OK, we'll catch you all this afternoon at dusk, Maverick, out.”
“Goldmine, this is Pipeline, what can you tell us about Obi-Wan's contact? Did anyone get hurt? Over.” Pipeline's face creased in worry. Emily stood at the door and listened.
“Pipeline, all I know is what I just told you. They had a contact and got away. It sounds like they shot the place up a fair bit because there was a lot of arguing going on and the gang leadership has changed hands. But other than that I know nothing, over,” replied Bluey.
A moment later they could hear the crash of something falling over in Bluey's cave.
“Bloody cat!” they heard the sounds of Bluey trying to straighten whatever it was Piggy had knocked over.
“Thanks, Goldmine, I'll catch you this evening. Good luck with your Piggy. Pipeline, out.” Pipeline kept the radio on to scan the frequency channels and accepted a plate of food from Emily.
“So they've had a fight but got away, and from what Bluey says they must have taken out the gang leader,” offered Emily who had moved her camp chair next to the vehicle and began eating her own meal.
“Yup, sounds like Obi-Wan must have run into some bad people and decided they needed a new leader. I hope they got away OK though.” The enormous SEAL finished his meal then cleaned up the remaining food left in the pan. “Emily, my darling girl, you don't mind cooking a meal for Murphy when he wakes, do you? I'm sorry but I seem to have… eaten everything.” His broad smile made it easy for Emily.
“Sure, I'm going to have a sleep now too. Leave everything by the fireplace, I'll clean up later.” She opened the car door and climbed into the back seat, she was asleep in moments.
Their stop-over was at a cattle station in the middle of the Western Australian desert. They arrived before dawn after a heavy night battling the boggy sand, dry sandy creek beds and just impossible country covered with scrub. There were very few tracks heading the way they wanted to go so part of their trip was bush-bashing.
“Murphy, I think we'll sleep where we are, no use waking the poor folks up this early,” said Pipeline pulling over at the gate and switching the vehicle engine off. “You guys get some sleep, I'll reconnoitre and come back.”
The homestead was a kilometre from where Pipeline had stopped the vehicle. He checked the ground for tracks to make sure there had been no unexpected visitors.
The giant SEAL walked slowly along the dusty drive with his AK47 over his shoulder. The sunrise was still a half hour away so he relaxed and enjoyed the predawn stillness, it was pleasantly cool. To make things better there were no flies.
He looked up at the night sky to see an enormous expanse of light from the stars above. The Milky Way hung low over the horizon while to the east there now appeared the rosy streaks of dawn. He stopped and checked the homestead very aware that if he went much closer the dogs that every farmer has would start barking and wake their hosts. The SEAL didn't want to start their visit on the wrong foot.
Pipeline was feeling lonely, watching Murphy and Emily courting reminded him of his other life in the US and his wife. He never chased the girls and he didn't flirt, he always played a straight game. He thought of how many times he could have bedded the most gorgeous girls on the planet. He was tall, had a body-builder frame, and with his ebony skin and ready smile, he was always being asked out. He had charm, personality and turned girls and many men's heads. But his eye's were only for his wife back in the US.
As he walked slowly back to the vehicle he remembered how he chased Janice, the girl he liked in high school. She vowed she would never go out with him, “Not even when hell freezes over, Peter Liner, not even then would I go out with you,” she'd say. He chuckled, she said it like a mantra. He persevered through high school and college until finally, on the day before he was to leave for military training, she said 'yes'.
The high school and college football hero, the best running back in the game, finally took the quiet, library-girl Janice, to the movies and then dinner. He had her home by 10 o'clock, like he'd promised her father. There, on the doorstep, they kissed.
“Janice, will you wait for me? I've waited eight long years for tonight's kiss and I'm not going to wait that long for what comes next.” He looked into her eyes, “so it looks like I'm going to have to marry you.”
Janice simply smiled back. “No you won't Peter Liner, I'm going to university and you're going to court me properly. Now that I know you're a gentleman I expect you to continue to behave like one.” He chuckled to himself again, remembering. To Janice, everything was always 'proper'.
That was twelve years ago and they'd not spoken a single bad word to each other. The two shared a love he didn't understand but there was no way on earth that he wanted anyone else. Not even now, knowing that he might never make it back home. He put the thought of his loss away but it often crept out when he was feeling low.
'Maybe Commander Cullen has a submarine up her sleeve, then we can all go home,' he mused.
Behind him, the low clouds began to glow red and pink, ahead of him the stars slowly faded. By the time he had their breakfast fire started and the billy of water boiling for their morning cuppa the dawn had broken and the sun was shining. And, of course, with the sun came those pesky bush flies.
At full sunrise he called for his team to wake up and grab some food and a cup of hot tea, they'd run out of coffee. Sometimes even a cup of boring tea was good enough to start the day, he thought.
“Come on you two, get yourselves untangled and ready to go door-knocking,” he called to the lovers through the open window.
“Hi, Pipeline, what's it like, the house and stuff?” asked Emily rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She turned and held Murphy's hand as she stepped out of the vehicle. He then put his arm around her shoulder. It was so natural and Emily felt instinctively safe with him.
“All looks normal. I'll call up Bluey in a minute. I decided to give you a break, Emily. I made breakfast for us all. Try some of my grub.” He saw the look on her face. “It won't kill you. It's just eggs, kangaroo jerky and cornflakes – protein and carbs.”
Murphy shrugged when Emily looked sideways at him, “Don't worry Emily, we've lived on Peter's cooking for years, no-one's died yet.”
“If they did they haven't complained, eh,” she added.
Within a half-hour Pipeline had con
firmed all was ready for their visit to the homestead. It was now a case of driving through the gates and introducing themselves.
Once through the front paddock gate the three were met by a pair of cattle dogs. They raced up to the visitors barking, they then stopped to sniff their visitor's hands curiously. It was a stand-off until Pipeline bent down to pet them. He threw a stick for the dogs to chase, they played chase all the way to the front door.
The homestead door was opened by an apprehensive, weather-beaten man in his late fifties. His similarly weather-beaten wife joined him at the door.
“You must be those soldiers Bluey called up about?” asked the man. He seemed awkward, cautious and a little afraid of the giant Pipeline standing over him.
Pipeline put his hand out and introduced himself. “I'm Pipeline, this is Murphy and this little girl is Emily. Thank you so much for inviting us to visit.”
The woman looked at the three of them. A simple up-and-down inspection told her that they needed a bath, a decent feed and a few days rest.
“Come on in, you look like you could do with a few luxuries. We ain't got much but you're welcome to what we have. Bluey said you've been fightin' them bad church people we've heard about. He said they've stopped all TV and radio and have been killing people. Is it really that bad?” she asked.
Emily took control when she saw that the two Americans struggled to understand the woman's country accent.
“Hi, I'm Emily. We sure could use a bath, even a dam or well will do us. We've still a long way to go and some food and a wash would be more than welcome.” As the three were invited inside, Emily continued, “and yes, those terrorists are bad, Mrs…?”
“Oh, I'm so sorry, how rude. I'm Becky and that's Adam. He's not good with people, you have to tell him what to do otherwise he'll just go off and do nothing. Since there's no more radio signal he's got nothing to do with his spare time, poor beggar.” Emily smiled, she liked the woman already. “Come on inside, it's going to be another hot one.”
The homestead, apart from the radio, was stuck in the 18th century. They had their bath in a big metal tub - they had to change the water several times. The water was pumped by hand from a well outside the house. The stove was a wooden fireplace which heated the water for their bath heated the house when things got cold in winter. Emily was pleased to note the house was clean, even the animal skins and hemp sacks covering the dirt floor were spotless.
Emily spent the day helping Becky around the house. Pipeline and Murphy helped Adam fix the roof, they also did some fencing in one of the paddocks where the farmer kept cattle and some goats. They had several horses that Adam used to get around the enormous property - not having to worry about fuel made a difference.
“Adam, do you have any diesel? We need to top up our fuel tanks and jerry-cans, if you have any to spare,” explained Murphy, pushing one of the dogs off his foot.
“Sure do.” Adam took them to his storeroom. He explained that he'd spent months digging a deep pit until it was large enough for a cellar. He covered it with iron sheeting and then a layer of earth for insulation. “It's nice and cool down here. You boys come on down and take a look.”
He turned towards the homestead to see if his wife was watching then cupped his hand around his mouth and whispered, “I've got a few bottles of home-brewed beer you might like to wash that desert sand down with.” It was the first time they'd seen him smile, they now had a new friend.
“My father home-brews, I've helped him heaps of times,” said Pipeline as they walked down the stairs into a tidy earthen cellar. “He sometimes distils his own whiskey too.” He saw Adam's eyes light up.
“Hey, you don't say, he makes his own whiskey, eh?” Adam was all ears now as he took down two dusty bottles of beer. There were several glasses on a dust-covered bench, he cleaned them with a dirty rag from his pocket.
“There you go youngn's,” he said as he poured, “some lovely ale to celebrate your visit.”
They sat on wooden boxes containing home-salted meat and chatted while they finished a half dozen bottles.
“That's damn good, Adam. What do you reckon, Pipeline? Is it as good as your old man's?” asked Murphy pouring the remaining drops from the bottle into his glass.
“Yessiree, that's mighty fine beer, Adam. My old man would be proud to say he brewed this.” Adam scrutinised Pipeline's face to make sure he wasn't pulling his leg. The lonely farmer smiled, satisfied the boys were giving his beer their honest appraisal.
“Here, take some beer with you, you'll need it on your trip.” Adam handed the boys a half dozen bottles which they gladly accepted when they saw he had a whole wall of beer.
“Thanks, Adam, that's right good of you,” said Murphy, “but we'd better get that fuel for our vehicle sorted out.”
Adam had forgotten all about the reason they were there in the cellar.
“I'd forgotten about that. Come over here fella's, help me roll this 44-gallon drum up the ramp and we'll fill 'er up, eh.” He smiled again and proudly showed the two SEALS his one-man winch and ramp setup.
While the boys were bonding over their beers, Becky and Emily were bonding over a huge pile of bread dough. Becky had decided the three visitors needed some bread to take with them on their trip. If they made the dough this afternoon it would have all night to prove and be ready to bake in the morning. Emily and Becky worked solidly as they mixed and then kneaded the dough until it was silky smooth.
All through the process they chatted about everything from terrorists, to desert herbs, to cooking in the bush and eventually to relationships. It was then Emily realised that Becky had been hedging towards this topic all day.
“You seem to get along well with that nice soldier, Murphy. I think he likes you.” It was both question and statement.
“I do, he's gentle and strong, but he's also fragile. Did you know that we haven't had sex yet?” Emily flushed bright red, she really didn't expect to say something as intimate as that, especially not to a stranger. She began to giggle, the next thing she knew Becky started giggling too. The two couldn't stop and had to sit down before they fell over.
“I'm so sorry, Becky,” Emily said between outbreaks of the giggles, “but it just came out.”
“Don't worry darling, Adam and I didn't have sex straight away either. He was too scared that I'd laugh at him. These days I have to send him outside for a few beers before he gets the courage to come to bed with me.” They burst out laughing, the two kept breaking out into the giggles as they covered the enormous pile of dough sitting inside an old, enamel bowel the size of a baby's bathtub.
“We'll let this sourdough rise overnight and it should be ready to bake in the morning.” Becky touched Emily on the arm affectionately, “you know, I've not had so many laughs as I've had with you. I'm going to miss you when you leave.” Instead of giggles, her face softened. “And don't worry about your boyfriend, it's going to be all right, I just know it. My mother had the sight and I've got it too. Relax, he wants you but he's been hurt - so have you, I can see it. But love heals and the love I see in you and Murphy… it's a healing love.”
Becky called the boys inside for the evening meal and a bath. For the boys, it had been a busy day - working, drinking and preparing their vehicle for the second leg of their trip.
“Do you boys really have to go so soon? I mean, I could do with a bit more help with the cellar,” said Adam, he struggled to keep his eyes open. They'd had a second visit to the cellar after they filled and serviced their vehicle and were all feeling quite merry.
Murphy decided he should answer, besides, he was the senior SEAL so it was his decision.
“Adam, we've got to get to our rendezvous, but we'll rest-up tonight and get away before lunch. I think we can put in some hours driving through this never-ending desert before it gets dark. What does everyone say?”
“Yeah, I'll second that. I'm bushed, my heads like cotton wool from all that driving. A good night's sleep and a relaxed morning w
ill make all the difference,” added Pipeline. They looked at Emily.
“Me too, I love it here, Becky's a beaut cook. I think that's the second best decision you've ever made, Murph.” Emily smiled at her lover. He reddened hoping their hosts wouldn't understand what they were talking about. “Besides, Becky said she'll show me how to bake bread, bush-style. I can't leave without a few loaves to take with us.”
“Wonderful,” smiled Becky, clapping her hands, “and we can play a few games of cards tonight, five-handed Five-Hundred, it's my favourite. Then we can have a sing-along - I've got that old pianola in the corner. It hasn't heard a tune for the past twenty years but I think I can still play her.” She was so excited the three would never think of disappointing her.
That night they played cards and sang along with a very out-of-tune pianola. They eventually gave up trying to tune it so the boys sang some of their navy songs. The two farm-folk were beyond happy. Adam was allowed to bring several bottles of beer into the house and even Becky shared a drink with them. At midnight Emily had to call it quits on the evening's entertainment.
By candle-light they enjoyed another bath in the 'sleep-out', a large semi-attached stockmen's dormitory beside the homestead. It held six rooms with bunks that had no doubt been built some hundred or more years ago. For Emily it was just right, the sheets were clean and the beds soft and that's just what she needed.
Emily felt safe, and recalling Becky's words she decided to chance fate again as she snuggled up to Murphy. Neither knew what the future would hold and both could feel the ghosts of failed relationships hanging over them.
“Murph, where are we heading with this?” asked Emily softly. She placed her lips on his neck and kissed him, slowly. Murphy groaned, he didn't want to answer but then she stopped and waited.
“Em,” he said, looking at her in the dim starlight slanting through the open window. “I really don't know. The world is no longer the same one we were in a month ago. We've left behind something broken and this is our opportunity to fix it. But that means us, the first generation of survivors need to sacrifice parts of ourselves to achieve that.” His reply came softly as he weighed each sentence carefully. He now lay back with his arm around Emily's shoulders.
