Dawn of the Dreamer (Dreamer Trilogy Book 1)

by L. J. Higgins

  ‘So the deal? Did you take it?’ It was insensitive to ask, but I needed to know.

  ‘Of course, she didn’t. Did you, Rose?’ Dawn’s confidence had given way to doubt, although she tried to cover it up as best she could.

  ‘No way. I won’t lie. The thought crossed my mind. I would do anything to have Ethan back. But I knew in my heart I couldn’t trust her or the MMC to do what they promised. Last time I trusted them, I ended up locked in the Psychiatric Ward and kept away from my son. I promise you, I told them nothing. I promise!’ Her eyes pleaded for us to believe her. We did.

  The three of us came together in a group hug to show Rose we were both there for her. Internally, I harboured anger at myself for doubting such a lovely girl and for the jealousy I felt when she was getting attention from Joe. How could I have doubted such a lovely person? When did I become so untrusting and jealous? Maybe I’d always been but the craziness of my situation was waking me up to it?

  The MMC were obviously worried about us and were trying to tear us apart. The fact they needed Rose to find out where we were didn’t ease my mind as I knew they could have easily followed us home that night. We needed to be careful and become more alert.

  Once we finished watering and repotting a few of Dawn’s plants, we found ourselves yet again sipping cups of tea up at the farmhouse. After Rose’s confession, I decided I was ready to relive the dream I’d had in the early hours of the morning. Rose was horrified that my subconscious would portray her as someone who could lock me away in a fiery death chamber. Dawn reassured her it was just my dream telling me she was hiding something. She also suggested it could mean I held resentment for Rose. Dawn knew what that resentment might be, though I pretended I didn’t. The fire, she said, was pointing out how frustrated I was with my life. Rose was still uncomfortable with the idea of locking me in a burning caravan and spent the rest of the afternoon looking after me, making up for what my subconscious version of her had done.

  By the time Sarah’s car came up the driveway, I’d convinced Rose that I wasn’t upset with her.

  ‘Excited to see me?’ Sarah smiled exhausted as she climbed from the small white Barina, reminding me of the long distance she now travelled every day to get to work.

  ‘Ha ha, yeah that’s it.’ I felt like we were in our old lives. ‘I just realised I haven’t told Mum I’m okay. Have you spoken to her?’

  ‘Oh crap!’ She ruffled through her oversized tan handbag.

  Soon she held out her fluorescent pink mobile phone towards me.

  ‘I meant to show you her messages, but something always seems to distract me. I told her you were with me and that you were well and being looked after. I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her, so kept it vague. I told her how busy we’ve been and as soon as you had a chance, you would call her. She was very happy to hear you were out and safe, but I’m sure she’ll feel even better if you call her!’

  Mum would have been happy with Sarah’s explanation. She trusted her as if she were her own daughter.

  Taking Sarah’s phone from her, I sat under the marquee, reading my mother’s last text.

  Thanks so much 4 everything, Sarah! She is so lucky 2 have u looking out 4 her. Please get her 2 call us as soon as she can. We miss her so much, and I just want 2 hear her voice. Love 2 u both, xoxo.

  A tear slipped over my cheek as I reached the end. Guilt clenched in my throat. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought to call her or ask about her. I retrieved the phone we’d bought for emergencies and sent her my number to call. Only a minute later, the phone rang, and the sound of her voice spread a smile across my face so wide it hurt.

  ‘Amelia, is that you?’ Her loving voice filled my heart with joy.

  ‘Yes, Mum, it’s me! How are you? How’s Dad? I’m so sorry I didn’t call sooner.’

  Explaining to her about the farm without giving too much away, I told her we were working on something big but I wasn’t able to tell her about it just yet. She told me she and Dad were fine, and they’d been worried but relieved to hear I had left the ward. She begged me to come home, and I promised I would visit as soon as I could, but we had a few issues to deal with here first. She told me to stay safe and to look after Sarah and that she loved me and we said our goodbyes.

  A mixture of happiness and sadness swelled inside me. The sound of her voice had made me feel so much better, yet all I wanted to do was lay my head in her lap and have her stroke my cheek telling me everything would be okay. My dad’s ruggedness always made me feel safe too, and once again I longed for the farm I’d been raised on. It also reminded me I had something to lose. It was easy to feel like my whole life was on Dawn’s farm. I was my parents’ only child, and if anything ever happened to me, it would crush them.

  During dinner, Rose, aided by myself and Dawn, explained the incident at the Tavern. Everyone believed she was telling the truth about not taking the deal, which made me guiltier for doubting her. We decided it was time to get serious about our escape plan. We needed to keep an eye out for anything or anyone questionable, and we moved the caravans in a row as we had discussed, parking a car in front of each one. A mobile phone was placed in each caravan, and despite it being late, the boys took the farm Ute and drove back and forth through the back of the neighbouring property towards the nearest road until a track was visible and accessible to the towing cars. Sarah was sad that her little Barina wouldn’t be coming with us because it wasn’t able to tow a caravan.

  ‘Maybe you can drive it, and Rose and I will tow the caravan,’ I suggested, and she cheered up again deciding to keep it parked close. With mixed emotions of anxiety, fear, and excitement, we went to bed.

  ***

  It felt as though I had been tossing and turning for hours, and I hoped I wasn’t annoying Rose. She lay so still, I felt like poking her to make sure she was still alive. Eventually, I found a comfortable spot in the mattress and felt my eyes getting heavier.

  ‘Hey! What are you doing? Stop! Oh my god! Fire! Fire!’ Andrew’s voice thundered interrupting the still night air.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Both Rose and I sat straight up in bed at the urgency in his voice and turned, kneeling, our cheeks pressed together to peer out our small window. An orange glow appeared at the side of our vision, and I knew it was the farmhouse. We scrambled out of the caravan as fast as we could.

  Oh my god, Joe and Dawn!

  My mind froze at the scene before me.

  Andrew ran in circles, yelling hysterically, ‘Fire! Fire! Someone lit a fire!’

  Yvette was frantically hooking up their caravan to their car, and the little wooden farmhouse was being devoured. Flames climbed up the cladding towards the bright night sky, lapping up the cool wind that encouraged it to burn crackling and snapping.

  ‘Has anyone called triple zero?’ My emotions switched off, and I took stock of what needed to be done.

  Sarah and Rose stood next to me in shock.

  ‘Sarah, ring triple zero, now!’ The authority in my voice called her to action, and she pulled out her mobile phone.

  ‘I’m going to the house. Rose, you hook up the caravans. We can’t be here when they arrive, okay?’ Her terrified face was transfixed on the fire.

  I stood in front of her to distract her view. ‘Okay?’

  ‘Yes, yes, caravans, got it.’ Her eyes met mine frightened and confused.

  She set about her duty, thankful for the instructions.

  Running towards the burning house, I called their names as loud as I could. ‘Joe! Dawn! Joe! Dawn!’

  The heat forced me to cover my face with my arm as I approached and pressed my face against the screen door. Smoke filled the little dining room. I could barely make out the kitchen table which was a silhouette surrounded by a dull glow.

  If the lounge room is on fire, how will they escape?

  Quickly, I turned my attention to the first window along the right-hand side of the house. I screamed as loud as I could in the smoky air that
had begun to leak out of the cracks and crevices, a toxic ghost.

  ‘Meelia.’ It was barely audible, muffled by the snaps and groans of flames, but I knew it was Joe.

  I picked up a piece of timber that lay beside the house and struck the window with all of my might.

  Thwack!

  My hands vibrated and stung as it rebounded off the glass throwing the wood and me backwards towards the ground. My hands ached, but I looked around noticing an axe leaning against the chicken coop. The chickens were making a ruckus at the sight of the flames leaping up into the air reflecting on the tin roof.

  Picking the axe up, I struck the window again with every muscle I had, and this time, it shattered as the axe followed through. I covered my face to shield it from the flying shards that sprinkled over my feet and the grass. Smashing the remaining glass away with my hands, I hoisted myself inside using the frame and getting as good as a grip on the external cladding as I could.

  The build-up of smoke and the heat that clung to it took me aback as I landed crouching on the floor. My eyes stung as I willed them to see through the thick curtain of smoke but to no avail.

  ‘Eelia.’

  Joe was close, and I crawled on the hard wooden floor with my eyes closed, as I couldn’t bear the burning and stinging. My hands felt around until I found the softness of a rug, then to my surprise, hair, then a face, and I traced over his jawline, over his neck, across his chest, and to his armpits. I slid my hands underneath them and dragged him across the floor back to where I’d come from. He was dead weight. My arms and legs strained to drag him towards the window, my breath labouring full of thick toxic smoke. The moonlit glow of the window appeared above us. After a few attempts at lifting him, I realised I wouldn’t be able to do it on my own. Each time I tried, he would slump with a groan back onto the hardwood floor that had become hot and burnt my bare feet.

  ‘I can’t lift you, Joe. You need to stand up. Please stand up, Joe. Please!’

  He groaned, but there was no movement despite my plea between chesty coughs that tore at my throat.

  ‘Amelia!’ It was muffled because she was covering her face with her pyjama shirt. Sarah’s face appeared in the window.

  ‘Help,’ I gasped almost out of breath, ‘can’t lift him.’

  She disappeared and then returned to the window, leaning in to help pull him out. Some of the glass left in the frame sliced through his right side producing a stream of blood. I winced as he groaned in pain, but he was finally out of the burning house and safe. Sarah dragged him across the yard towards the chickens that still flapped around frantically. Taking a deep breath of fresh air from outside the window, I crouched to the floor again, this time holding my own shirt over my mouth and nose. The smoke was too thick, and by the time I’d felt my way to the doorway, the floor had become painfully hot. My eyes still burned and my head became light and dizzy. I had to find Dawn.

  Feeling around the door trim, an orange glow appeared through the wall of black, and the heat became unbearable. My head told me to run and get out of there before the fire devoured me along with the old wooden house, but my heart begged me not to leave Dawn behind.

  Opening my mouth to yell, nothing but a squeal came out as a terrible crash shook the floor beneath me. Popping and whizzing sounds filled the room. The cracks and wheezing became more frequent and louder, and I became claustrophobic not being able to see what was around me. My lungs ached, and my throat was burning.

  My brain won the battle, and I retreated, feeling my way back towards the window. The eerie moaning and crackling distracted me now and then, sounding as though they were getting closer. My hands and knees burned, and I fought the urge to cough so as not to flood my chest with any more of the ashy air. The glow of the window came into view, and I quickened my pace along the hardwood, climbing quickly towards its frame gasping in the fresh air greedily. My lungs and throat burned, and my body ached but my mind still clung to Dawn.

  ‘Dawn?’ It was a croak. Sarah’s face was stained with soot and dried tears as I dropped to the cool soil beneath the window with a thud.

  ‘Where’s Dawn?’ It was a relief to hear Joe’s voice, although husky and raw.

  Still swallowing as much air as I could suck in, I jogged towards the front of the house hoping to find another way inside the inferno.

  ‘The caravan’s ready, Amelia!’ I could barely hear her over the roar and crackle of the fire that towered over and smothered the tiny wooden farmhouse. There was no way inside. The fire had consumed the bulk of it and was now at the front door.

  Sirens cried out in the distance and relief fell over me at hearing them. They would get her out.

  ‘The Fire Brigade is here. They’ll be able to get her out,’ Sarah assured Joe, although her eyes told a different story, sad and defeated.

  My brain refused to believe the vision of the tiny house drowning in molten yellow and orange that danced around each other weaving in and out. It was mesmerising until you remembered its evil agenda.

  ‘You girls have to get out of here!’ Sarah ordered as the truck appeared at the bottom of the driveway, it lights whirring through the surrounding paddocks and trees.

  ‘I’m staying,’ croaked Joe. ‘Dawn’.

  Shaking my head at Sarah, I stumbled to Joe’s side, holding him like an anchor.

  Joe pushed me away violently. ‘Go!’

  My mind was numb at his rejection, and I didn’t fight Rose and Sarah as they ushered me up the hill towards the car hooked up to the caravan. My eyes were transfixed on Joe who had begun to sob uncontrollably holding a wad of material against his wound and I wished I could hold him and tell him it would be okay.

  Rose and I climbed into the Ute and Sarah into her Barina. When the Fire Engine reached the house, we were halfway along the rough track the boys had made towards the road.

  ‘Yvette and Andrew just left us there. They didn’t even try to help.’ Rose was distressed.

  I remembered the vision of Yvette frantically trying to hook the caravan up to their car and Andrew yelling and running around, achieving nothing. My mind ached with the onslaught of images, the fire and Joe, mixed with my nightmare of the fire in the caravan, and I stared blankly my stinging eyes watching Sarah’s taillights.

  Had that happened? Was this a terrible dream I would wake up from any moment?

  The longer we drove in silence, the more the harsh reality sunk in, and by the time we reached Sandhaven beach, my head and heart were numb.

  We pulled up at the park, and Rose climbed out of the car and walked towards Sarah, wrapping their arms around each other, crying. Watching them through the glass was like watching the scene of a movie and not experiencing any of it for real. I stared at them, sore and tearful, which melded them as one against the bright night sky. Slowly, I managed to open the door, pulling myself from the seat and walking trance-like towards the beach. The cool sand stung my raw feet, and as the pain brought me back to reality, I forced it deeper into the back of my mind with even more determination. The girls arrived at my sides as I sunk to the sand. The pain in my feet was unbearable, but the briny air was soothing my face and burning lungs and throat.

  ‘Amelia, are you okay? Please say something.’ Sarah crouched in front of me and was staring into my face, tears still rolled over her soft olive cheeks.

  She even looked beautiful when she cried.

  ‘Oh my god, Amelia, you’re bleeding!’ Her announcement and the worry in her voice forced me to acknowledge the pain in my hands.

  Rich crimson rivers ran from various cuts and punctures in my reddened hands, and I numbly stared at them, trying to take everything in. There was a fire at the farmhouse. I’d climbed in and gotten Joe out. But where was Dawn?

  ‘Dawn!’ I managed to croak out, and my lungs wheezed, and it brought on a coughing fit that consumed my remaining energy.

  My body collapsed onto the bed of sand. My lungs felt raw as did my throat and nose and the salty air both soothed and st
ung them at the same time.

  ‘I’m sure the fire brigade will find her, Amelia. She’s a strong lady. I’m sure she’s fine.’ The look on Rose’s face defied her as tears refilled her already swollen red eyes.

  How could she be fine? They had seen the house on fire; I had seen its intensity inside.

  ‘We need to get you help.’ Sarah stroked my cheek as my mother would have.

  What I would have given to have my mother there to tell me everything was going to be okay. She’d be lying, though; Dawn was still in the house, we were on the run, and Joe was alone.

  ‘I’m calling Cameron.’ Sarah dialled his number on our emergency phone before I could protest, and Rose, afraid to touch me for fear of causing me pain, sat crying into her hands that rested on her knees, curled up to her chest.

  Hours seemed to pass before Cameron arrived, but Sarah promised it had only been twenty minutes or so. He picked me up as though I was a child cradled in his strong arms and placed me in the back of his car on top of a blanket. The movement brought on another onslaught of coughing. Then my head began to throb heavily. As the adrenalin wore off, I began to feel weary.

  ‘I’m tired,’ I mumbled inaudibly.

  He wiped my face with something damp, and for a moment before I closed my eyes, I felt safe again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Upon waking, I glanced around the room, disorientated, a tall wooden dressing table with a mirror stood to my left beside a desk with shelves climbing up the wall. Beside my bed stood a small table with a picture of two familiar people. Slowly, I rose to sit upright. My head was still sore, and the ache in my chest reminded me of the events that had occurred. Desperately, I pushed them to the back of my mind. Two doors at the foot of my bed hid a built-in cupboard, and to their left was a doorway, the doorway out into my parents’ hallway. Relief fell over me, and I settled back down in my old familiar bed. The sheets and pillow smelt of lavender. It was still as welcoming and cosy as it had been last time I had slept there.