The Tasmania Trilogy (Book 1): Breakdown

by Owen Baillie

  “Wait!”

  The man jumped back, his face twisted with fear. He had dark bags under his eyes, a mop of black, curly hair, and glasses. The greying at the edges of his hair suggested he was around forty. “What are you doing?”

  “My mother is sick. She’s around at the front entrance—”

  The man reached out and pulled at the door. “You can’t be here. The hospital’s closed.”

  “What?” She pressed her foot harder. “It can’t be closed. It’s a public service.”

  The man shook his head. “It’s full. There’s no more room.” Kumiko put her hand against the door. The man looked at it as though she was breaking the law.

  “Stop being such an asshole.” He stared at her, mashing his teeth. A red light went off in her mind and she knew she needed to change her strategy. “Please,” she read the name on his ID badge. “Andy. Andy, my name is Kumiko. My mom’s name is Shiori. I’m scared she won’t make it home if we have to turn around and go back. She’ll give up.” Andy’s face softened a little. “Can you please help us?”

  His tough stare broke. The pressure on the door eased. “I’m sorry, I really am. But I’m under orders from hospital management. We can’t let any more people in. It’s too full. A health risk.”

  Kumiko scoffed. “A health risk?” She felt the bands of sanity slipping away. Some deep intuition told her that if she couldn’t find a way in, her mother would die. Her mother would die. Suddenly the bands broke. It was like the climax of three months’ bad luck. If she hadn’t come to Devonport, would her mother be sick? Her parents wouldn’t even be there if she hadn’t followed her moron ex-boyfriend over. It was all her fault.

  “I have money,” she said, pressing her lips together. “How much do you want? Two hundred? Five hundred? A thousand dollars to let us in.” He stared at her. “Please.”

  The man adjusted his glasses. “Where’s your mother?”

  “Around the front.”

  He let go of the door. “This is how it’s going to work. You bring your mother—nobody else. If anybody else is with you, the deal is off. You come back here and wait. I’ll open the door in ten minutes. You come in and sit down and don’t make a sound. And you don’t mention this to anybody.”

  Kumiko felt a deep gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  “Ten minutes. One chance only.”

  She hurried back to the front entrance. Her mother was lying on the grass. Her father sat over her, stroking her forehead. At a glance, it appeared most of the same people were still lined up, though she couldn’t be sure.

  “Have the doors opened at all?” John shook his head. “Okay. Get up. We’re moving.” Her father stared at her. “Hurry up, Dad. We need to move quickly.” John obliged, helping Shiori to her feet.

  Kumiko led her parents carefully away from the entrance, trying not to alert others. Once they were far enough away, they angled towards the building and followed its contour until they reached the service area.

  “The door’s locked,” her father said, before Kumiko could explain.

  They found a step for her mother to sit on, and she did, hanging her head between her legs. John stood by Shiori’s side, propping her up so she wouldn’t fall.

  Ten minutes came and went. Kumiko began to think the man had lied. He’d changed his mind when she’d mentioned money. Was that because he expected it, or because he realized her desperation? Or perhaps he had just said it to get rid of her. How long did she wait before trying another avenue? There was no other avenue, she knew. They weren’t getting in through the front entrance, and it had been the luck of timing that she’d seen the man at this one. Beyond him staying true to his word, they had nothing.

  At one point, a massive explosion sounded in the distance. Kumiko glanced across the lawn of the hospital but couldn’t see beyond the line of trees.

  At twenty-five minutes, her father helped her mother onto her feet. “We’re leaving.”

  “Sit down, Dad. Don’t be silly. Just a little bit longer.”

  He put a hand up. “I appreciate your efforts to get us in, Kumiko, but we’re too late. You were right. We should have listened to you two days ago.”

  Kumiko wasn’t interested in being right. She stepped in front of them. “You’re not leaving!” Shiori coughed into her hand, the sound wet and raspy. “There’s no other option, Dad. If we don’t get in here we might as well go home, and I don’t think that’s going to end well.”

  John sighed and helped Shiori back into a sitting position. Kumiko read the reluctance on his face. He had lost all hope.

  Fifteen minutes later, her father stood up again. His face was creased with frustration. “We’ve given it long enough.” Kumiko thought about holding her mother down and not letting her go.

  “You know what, Dad? You go. I’ll wait here with Mom.”

  “Don’t be stupid. I’m not leaving her alone out here with you.”

  Kumiko cleared her throat, her air passages feeling as though they were getting smaller. “What’s the difference whether she’s at home or here?”

  “At home she can lie down and rest.”

  “At home, she’s got no chance of getting into this hospital. Why can’t we just wait? The man said he’d be back.”

  Her father put a hand on her shoulder. “We appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it’s time to—”

  The door crashed open and the man appeared, adjusting his glasses. There was a strip of sweat above his mouth. He looked from Kumiko, to her mother, and then her father. “Chaos in there. I can’t let three of you in. It’s too many.”

  Kumiko stepped forward. “What?”

  “I told you that. The place is too crowded. There’s nowhere to sit or stand.”

  “We’ve been waiting for ages.”

  The man shook his head and stood firm. “I can let two of you in. That’s it.”

  He wasn’t going to change his mind, and if she kept pushing, he was prone to knocking her mother back. Suppressing the urge to argue, Kumiko slipped her arms around her mother’s neck and pressed her gently. “Rest up. The hospital will look after you.”

  “Your inhaler,” her mother whispered.

  Kumiko nodded, coughing. “I’ll find some now.” She turned to her father.

  He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Thank you, Kumi.” He only called her that in moments of compliment. “I should have known you’d never give up.” She managed a thin smile. “I don’t know if the phones will be working, but I’ll try and stay in contact.”

  She hugged him tight, quashing the wonder of when she might see them again. Then she turned and walked away from the doorway without looking back.

  The heat of a northerly wind whipped her face and filled her lungs, making it even harder to breathe. She took a deep, difficult breath and narrowed her eyes as she started along the concrete path towards the road.

  Beyond the grounds of the hospital, the streets were busier now, people milling on both sides amongst a long line of traffic jam. Horns blared, and somewhere past the immediate vicinity, there were shouts and cries that reminded her of a fight she had once witnessed. As the pathway curved towards the road, Kumiko noticed glass on the ground. Some of the cars parked along the curb had their windows smashed.

  She hurried across the road, chasing air into her lungs, and ran between a line of cars waiting at the roundabout, keeping her eyes down. On her left, down Moriarty Road, the sound of shattering glass carried to her. She glanced up instinctively and saw a man had thrown an object through a shop window. He, along with two more men, climbed in through the broken pane, disappearing into the shadows.

  Kumiko ran. She had to get away from here. She thought about retreating to the hospital, but they wouldn’t let her in. As she reached the parking lot, the sounds of fighting grew louder, and the altercation came into view. There were people fighting on the street beyond Crowy’s Boat Shop. A man stood in a circle of others, attacking people with wild fists.

&n
bsp; Running towards her car, Kumiko noticed most of the cars in the lot had been badly vandalized. A big black-and-chrome Harley-Davidson lay on its side. The back window of her small Ford Laser had been smashed in.

  She pulled the keys from her pocket and slotted them into the lock. As she turned them and pulled at the door handle, a hand grabbed her shoulder. Kumiko went to turn, but something struck her from behind and she fell to the dusty earth, trying to catch her breath.

  4

  Mac felt the heat first. Stifling, oppressive. Then he opened his eyes, and the orange tones of late morning colored the world. He lifted his head and a deep, sudden pain flared in his left temple. “Shit,” he mumbled, wincing.

  At first, he thought he’d fallen asleep out in the backyard, sunk deep into one of his deck chairs after a long week and one too many beers on a Friday night. Then he saw the crack in the windscreen and felt the angle of the car tipping forward.

  Jess. Oh, Jesus, what had happened?

  He tried to move and felt more pain across his neck and shoulder. He hadn’t even made it home from Dave-O’s house. Instead, he’d crashed the car and ended up in a ditch. And Jess … was she okay? The kids? What he’d witnessed at Dave-O’s house, what if Jess—

  Mac cut the thought off and unclasped the belt, ignoring the pain. He needed to climb out, assess the damage to the vehicle, and find out why the SUV was tilted on an angle. The keys were still turned to the on position in the ignition, but the car was smart enough to turn off the dashboard and lights to avoid the battery going flat.

  He pulled the handle and the door creaked open. It did so willingly, despite gravity, indicating it wasn’t too badly damaged. He shoved harder until the opening was wide enough for him to slip out. Doing so proved a challenge though. Using his sore shoulder to prop the door open, Mac pulled himself out by the doorjamb until his legs dropped onto the grassy bank. He peered around, ascertaining his exact location along Frankford Road.

  There were no visible properties in either direction. Beyond the ditch, stumpy shrubs mixed with tall grass climbed a sharp slope, leading to heavy scrubland and a swathe of gumtrees in either direction. On the other side of the road, thick ferns and bracken crowded close to the shoulder and then fell away, leading to loose barbed wire fences and dry paddocks for a quarter mile before more dense scrub.

  Dark ooze had dried on the hood where he’d hit the animal. The memory of driving the night before returned, like a distant dream. He’d spotted movement on the road and had swerved to avoid it. It might have been a ‘roo bounding across the blacktop, but he wasn’t sure.

  Mac stepped away from the car and peered along the road, looking for the animal he’d hit. He couldn’t waste time though. The more pressing issue was getting home to Jessica. Mac’s gut tightened at the thought that she might have become like Neville, Dave-O’s neighbor. What if her headache and pains had developed into something from which he couldn’t bring her back? The pain in his head was getting worse with each thought.

  The road was clear. Mac slid down the bank to inspect the fall. It wasn’t as bad as he expected. If he turned the wheels fully to the right, they might get some grip on the muddy embankment, then the four-wheel drive should pull him out.

  Before he did that, he tried calling Jess. His phone only had one service bar though, common along Frankford Road. This time, the line on the other end rang. He waited, holding his breath. Pick up, pick up, pick up. One of the kids usually answered if Jess was busy, but it ended up going to her message service again.

  “Jess, it’s Mac. I’ve had an accident on Frankford Road. I’m okay, but the car’s in a ditch. I’m on my way home now and shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes. Call me as soon as you get this, okay?” He paused. “I love you guys.”

  He hung up, opened the door, and tossed the phone onto the passenger’s seat. Then he edged his way inside, holding the door open with his sore shoulder. Getting in was a lot easier than out, and he was quickly behind the wheel.

  The car hummed into life. Mac engaged reverse gear, then turned the steering wheel all the way to the right while feathering the accelerator. The engine revved, but didn’t catch. He pressed harder, then the wheels caught, spinning on the grassy bank, the engine groaning. Then it began to edge backwards. Mac gave the accelerator more and it crept up the slope until it was idling at the edge of the road, and he was filled with gratitude.

  Back on the road and travelling towards home, Mac fumbled with the phone and called Jess again, but there was no answer. It rang out, filling him with an even greater fear.

  Not normally one to worry, Mac felt stirrings of real concern. He couldn’t help but think his decision to join his mates for the previous evening had been a bad one. He should have listened to his gut and stayed with Jess.

  He slowed the vehicle to a more moderate speed and dialed Dave-O’s number. It went straight to the message service. He tried Smitty next, then Dutch, but they all did the same. Mac didn’t like it at all.

  He held tight for the last five or six minutes, taking bends and dips in the road at more than a hundred miles an hour, using the skills he’d learnt undertaking numerous tactical, 4x4, and counter-terrorism driving courses in the military. Finally, he reached the front gates where he leapt out of the truck to open them, sped through, then stopped to close them again. He raced up the driveway, stones and dirt spewing from the tires. He was out of the vehicle the moment he shoved the gearstick into park and yanked on the hand brake.

  “Jess? Jess?” He leapt up onto the porch.

  The front door slammed against the brick wall as Mac rushed through the entrance and into the lounge room with his heart in his mouth.

  And there she was, lying asleep on the couch, her eyes closed, an arm across her forehead. Mac fell to his knees, put a hand softly on her arm, and examined her condition. Both eyes were red and puffy. She had a sweaty forehead, and strands of matted hair stuck to her face. Her breathing was jagged, and her chest sounded raspy. Could she have become this bad overnight? Her phone was lying on the floor. He picked it up and pressed the button on the front. Nothing happened. Dead.

  Mac stood, feeling the thump of his heart begin to slow, and wandered out of the living room and into the kitchen. A collection of bowls, plates, and cups were stacked on the bench. Beyond that, nothing appeared abnormal. He took the hallway past the first two empty bedrooms, stopping at Tyler’s, where both kids sat as they had been sitting the day before when he left.

  Ashleigh saw him first. “Daddy!” She stood and ran to him, wrapping both arms around his neck. Mac hadn’t felt such relief in years. They were all right. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but the strangeness of the previous night’s events was unsettling.

  Tyler gave him a strong hug. “What’s happened to your mom?”

  Both kids provided a synopsis. Jess had seemed in good spirits for a short while after Mac left, but then her arms and legs had begun to feel sore. She lay down on the couch and slept for a few hours, and woke with a splitting headache. From then on, she’d barely moved, calling out once for Tyler to bring her a glass of water and more pain relief medicine. They’d eaten cereal for dinner, and Tyler had put Ashleigh to bed at around 8:30pm, slightly later than normal.

  “Is Mom gonna be all right?” Tyler asked.

  “Yeah, buddy. I’m going to take her to the doctors now.”

  “Can I come, Dad?” Ashleigh asked, her blue eyes widening with concern.

  “I’ll take you to Grandma Lyn’s and Grandpa Ken’s.” Ashleigh’s smile widened. “And I’m really sorry I left you yesterday afternoon. I should have stayed at home to look after you and mommy.”

  Ashleigh’s smile turned downwards into a frown. Then it disappeared. She reached out and patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, daddy.”

  He left the kids and returned to Jess. He squatted beside her, placed a hand on each arm, and gently shook her. She came awake with a start.

  “Hey,” Mac said. “How you feel
ing?”

  She coughed twice and sat up. “Water,” she managed. Her voice was dry, scratchy.

  Mac handed her a three-quarter full glass from the floor and she drank until it was empty, grunting when she finished.

  “I’m taking you to the doctors,” Mac said, wiping the matted hair away from her forehead. “Were you telling me the whole truth yesterday?”

  Jessica gave him a stare that said maybe not. “You stay out all night?”

  He shook his head. “I’m so sorry.” He gave her a rundown of what had happened at Dave-O’s house. Her face twisted with shock and revulsion.

  “Is Leigh Ann okay?”

  “I don’t know. I tried calling all three of them this morning, but nobody answered.” He added in details of the crash on the way home and why he hadn’t made it back earlier. “I’m so sorry, Jess. I should never have gone yesterday.”

  “It’s fine. I insisted.” She launched into a coughing fit. When she was finished, Mac helped her up off the couch. “Where are we going? I don’t think any of the local GPs have been open for a week. Half of them had the flu, too.”

  “We’ll go to Mersey Community then. They won’t be closed.”

  “Just let me rinse off and change my clothes.”

  Mac packed a bag for the kids and got them ready. He tried calling the boys again, but still, nobody was answering. That uneasy feeling slithered back over him.

  Twenty minutes later, they piled into the car and Mac called his parents to let them know they were on the way. His mother informed him that his father was sick and had been asleep all morning. Mac didn’t like the idea of exposing the kids to another sick person, but they had no choice. He didn’t care about himself, but Ashleigh and Tyler were another matter. He would suggest to his mother that she keep his father well away from them, however, knowing her, she had probably already thought of that.