A Changing Land(143)

Sarah was back at the Landcruiser within minutes. She spun the vehicle around, reversing over the top of stringy saplings until she was away from the thickest of the trees and driving until she had line of sight to the open cultivation. She lifted the two-way radio to her mouth.

‘This is Sarah at Wangallon. Can anyone hear me?’

Silence. She revved the vehicle driving until she hit the expanse of open cultivation and hopefully a better reception. ‘This is Sarah at Wangallon. Does anyone copy?’

Static drifted over the airway.

‘This is Sarah at Wangallon. Please, can anyone hear me?’

‘Yeah gotcha, Wangallon. What’s the prob?’

‘It’s Anthony. There’s been an accident. Can you help me?’

‘Hey kiddo, it’s Toby. Where the hell are you?’

‘Boxer’s Plains. It’s bad, Toby, really bad.’ Sarah choked back tears. ‘I don’t think he’ll make it.’

‘You hang tight. We’re on our way.’





‘Anthony, can you hear me?’ Sarah lay beside him in the dirt; the cotton seat covers from the Landcruiser tucked around him for extra warmth. His breathing was ragged. Now and then there would be the slightest of movements from him: a twitch of a finger or a slight relaxation of his neck. Sarah wondered what internal injuries he’d sustained for he was still blue despite her best intentions at keeping him warm. A good fire was burning thanks to the matches she’d found on the dash of the Landcruiser and the plethora of leaf litter and branches. A branch of green belah leaves gave off a steady stream of white smoke from it. Each time the smoke lessened Sarah replaced it with another branch, hopeful it would help guide the men to their rescue. She didn’t dare risk trying to move Anthony for fear of worsening his condition and neither would she leave him to call on the two-way again. Sarah placed her head on Anthony’s shoulder and her arm across his chest. Bullet and Ferret were lying beside them.

Sarah tucked her jacket under Anthony’s chin and hugged him closer. Bullet’s head was resting on his uninjured thigh; Ferret huddled close to his mate. Although the sun’s rays ceased to penetrate the clearing, the spot where she lay with Anthony was warm with love. Sarah could feel it flowing into the man beside her, even as she willed her own life force to help him. They were family. They both belonged on Wangallon.

‘Don’t take him,’ she sobbed quietly, almost expecting a phantom to stride from the nearby ruins. She pictured the stone cold Aga, hating the thought of him lying out here in the cold, alone as he had through the night. Anthony’s hand was barely warm, his breath tentative, as if he were deciding whether a continuation of his suffering was worthwhile.

Sarah thought of the years they’d been on the property, of how her life altered from a fretful, unexceptional existence to one of renewed possibility following Anthony’s arrival. They’d been such wonderful friends, she, Anthony and Cameron; however, the fates were unstoppable in their intercession and Cameron was taken from her. She squeezed her eyelids closed. The thought of losing Anthony stunned her into action.

‘Anthony, wake up.’ His forehead was clammy. ‘Wake up.’ Sarah shook him forcefully by the shoulders. ‘Remember our endless rides. Remember how much you love Wangallon.’ Her tears splashed onto his cheeks. ‘I love you. Can’t you wake up so I can tell you how much?’ She stroked his hair, touched the slight scar on his cheek. What would she do without him? What would she do if she lost her Anthony?

There was the slightest of noise similar to wind rustled leaves. Sarah leant down towards Anthony’s moving lips.

‘Sarah.’

She reached for his hand, willing him to life.

‘You came back.’ His words carried the barest breath of life.

She wrapped her arms around him. ‘Of course I came back.’

Anthony coughed. ‘We were fighting for the same thing you know. We’ve been fighting over Wangallon,’ he stuttered between clenching teeth. ‘You don’t understand.’

‘What don’t I understand?’ Sarah rubbed his cold hands.

‘That I love Wangallon too.’ His eyes closed.

‘Come back to me, Anthony.’ She took his face between her hands. ‘Come back to me.’ A dreadful pain shot through her. A pain so soul rendering that no noise escaped her lips. Sarah rocked on her knees, the tears spilling down her face. After everything they’d been through, after everything she’d been brought up to believe in as a Wangallon Gordon, she realised that she could never be sure again that she loved Wangallon more than the man lying in the dirt at her feet.