Driftwood (25 page)

2012 — Far North Queensland

‘She's here,' Patty screamed, as unknown objects were catapulted against the outside of the homestead. The house was creaking and groaning but it withstood the blows, for now. ‘Where are Jay and the men? They can't bloody survive this out there!'

Taylor squeezed Patty's hands, unable to consider the idea that Jay and the blokes were still out among Iva's anarchy, her fear for all of them rendering her speechless. Wouldn't they be hiding somewhere safe by now? She was trembling as much on the outside as she was within, as she and Patty lay huddled in each other's arms on the floor of the lounge room. They both listened intently to the regular updates on the television, their eyes glued to reporters from all over Australia as they relayed the horrific images of Driftwood and surrounding areas being blown away. An image of Coral Bay was shown, the massive trees along the coastline snapped in half. The main street of Driftwood was eerily vacant but at the same time shrouded in bedlam. Sheets of iron flew down the street like paper as buildings were being ripped to shreds. One reporter said that all the residents had been evacuated to the community centre, as it was the strongest building in town. Taylor and Patty said a prayer together for every person there. Never before had Taylor prayed so hard, but in this situation, faith in a deity was all she had to hold onto.

Outside the huge lounge room window a flash of lightning lit up the blackened sky and in the abrupt illumination Taylor watched dumbfounded as a tractor tyre went hurtling through the air as if it were as light as a feather, followed by what appeared to be a small shed. It all felt so surreal, as if she was watching a horror film and she was the starring role.

Patty shook Taylor's shoulders, attempting to snap her out of her stupor as she bellowed over the roar of wind. ‘Tays, we can't wait here any longer for the men. We have to get down to the safety of the bathroom. Right now. Before this gets any worse.'

Breathless from fear, Taylor watched wide-eyed as the room's walls began to cave inwards, as if the house was inhaling. The internal pressure was suddenly so intense that all the flames on the candles they'd lit doubled in height. It was chilling to witness, as though there was a malevolent entity within the room. The intense drop in air pressure made both Taylor and Patty wheeze for air. She clutched Patty's arms, feeling like she was going to be sucked right out of the lounge room window. She trembled as she imagined her body being sliced like butter by the jagged glass.

A loud smashing noise grabbed their attention, and they watched as a star picket flew through the kitchen window and within millimetres of them, before spearing through the lounge room wall. Glass, debris and rain spewed forth from the broken window. It was as though the devil himself had made a spectacular entrance as Iva performed an insane dance of destruction throughout the lounge room, picking up everything in its wake and smashing it to the floor. Taylor held her arm up to shield her face as she crawled along the floor behind Patty, both of them sobbing and praying as they scrambled for safety in the hallway.

A resounding boom echoed throughout the homestead and then everything went black, the eeriness creeping up on Taylor and digging its claws into her flesh. Goose bumps covered her. The television abruptly went silent, all communication to the outside world now gone. They were all alone, and Iva was here. The evil spirit had arrived, and the men still weren't back. The very thought of Jay, or any of the men, lying dead somewhere sickened her. It was a living nightmare inside the homestead, so how in the hell were the men going to survive the mayhem out there?

The creepy blackness engulfed her and the ear-piercing noise resembling that of a freight train tore through the house. Taylor couldn't hear herself think. Windows began to shake tremendously, as though Iva was trying to find another way in. The clatter was terrifying as the cyclone screamed outside the perimeters of the house, ripping, rattling, bashing and tearing at the roof and walls like a hungry beast trying to get to its prey.

Above them the roof groaned and squeaked, the sound of tearing iron like fingernails down a blackboard, as the fierce winds used every bit of might to try to rip the roof from the homestead. Like a determined burglar, it seemed as though nothing was going to keep Iva out. Now losing faith, Taylor was counting down the minutes until Iva claimed her and Patty. She couldn't see any way of them getting out of this ordeal alive. If they did, it would be an absolute miracle.

They cowered as they continued to crawl down the hallway and pictures flew from hooks, smashing all around them. Shards of glass pierced Taylor's cheek and she cried out more in fright than pain. Patty yelled over her shoulder, struggling to be heard. The front door flew open and a powerful gush of wind and debris rushed forth like the hounds from hell. Taylor was tossed backwards against the wall, winding her badly. Patty grabbed her ankles, screaming, fighting to keep Taylor with her. Taylor dug her nails into the timber doorframe, crying out in sheer agony as she felt her nails lifting one by one. Her body's weight was insignificant as it flopped around in the wind like a rag doll, Iva trying its very best to suck her out of the house.

Finally succeeding in lying back down on the floor, Taylor followed Patty as they slithered like snakes along the floorboards, both of them too petrified to crawl. They stayed low, calling out for each other along the way. Their voices were almost inaudible but it was still comforting to know they were there for each other.

After three agonising minutes they reached the bathroom door and Patty fought to get to her feet. Taylor pushed her entire body against Patty's so she didn't get dragged away. They edged the door open, stumbling over as they made it into the windowless room. Down on all fours, Taylor felt around for the survival box, startled as moistness travelled up her cheek. Fumbling in the darkness her hands came to rest on something familiar. It was Floyd and his presence was bizarrely comforting. Finally finding the box, she rifled through the contents, her hands coming to rest on a torch. She switched it on, her heart melting as she spotted Buster and Floyd in the corner. Buster was quivering with both paws over his face and beside him sat Floyd, protecting his new little buddy.

Shining the torch beam around the little space, Taylor took it in. This would be her and Patty's shelter for however long it took Iva to leave and she was pleased to see it looked very stable. Hearing a gurgling sound, she carefully followed the noise and found herself peering into the toilet, shocked to see the water swirling around like a whirlpool. Beside the toilet was the hand basin, which Fang had obviously filled. The water in it was being sucked downwards through the plug, the pressure in the pipes outside immense. Taylor squeezed her eyes shut, wishing the horror away, but her ears were unable to block out the demonic screaming of wind and the thunderous crashing noises as Iva smashed against the house with its giant fists.

Utterly exhausted, Taylor and Patty huddled into the corner of the concrete bathroom with their dogs on their laps. Underneath a thin mattress they dozed and woke constantly, unable to fall into a deep sleep. Then, suddenly, it went unnervingly quiet, as if a switch had been flicked and all the power behind the cyclone was gone. Taylor pushed the mattress off her head, halting her breath, her ears straining to hear something, anything.

She gently shook Patty out of her slumber. ‘Patty. Wake up. I think it's gone. Listen. There's no more noise. We can go and look for the blokes now and make sure they're all okay.'

Patty rubbed her eyes, listening. ‘Tays, this is the eye of the cyclone. We're only halfway through the nightmare: we still have to see the other side of Iva. The only difference is that this time the wind will be blowing in the opposite direction.'

Taylor slumped, shoulders hunched, feeling as if the wind had been knocked clean out of her. They were only halfway through? Hadn't they endured enough? A wave of anger washed over her as she smacked her hand against the wall. ‘What are we going to do about the men, Patty?'

Patty embraced her. ‘Nothing, love. We can't do anything. I'm just holding onto the faith that Jay is a clever bloke and that he and the men have found shelter somewhere else for whatever reason. We have to believe that, Tays.
You
have to help me believe in that by holding it together. Okay?'

Taylor wiped her eyes, sniffling. ‘Okay,' she whispered.

Male voices shouted throughout the homestead, calling out Taylor's and Patty's names. Hurried heavy footsteps came towards the bathroom door then four silhouettes appeared. All the men were sopping wet, with cuts and bruises on their faces and arms. Taylor held her breath, praying that Jay was there. But he wasn't and she began to wail.

Patty gripped Tom's arm, her voice shrill. ‘Where's my boy? Why's he not with you? What's happened to him?'

‘We thought he might have been in here, with you two,' Tom murmured back, his face twisting in emotional pain. ‘Us four have been hiding out at the cottage. We were in the middle of securing down the stables when it was completely annihilated around us — one minute Jay was there, trying to save the horses, and the next, he was gone.' Tom collapsed to his knees, clearly beaten. ‘I'm so sorry, Patty. I don't know what to do. I don't know where he is.'

‘No! I've lost almost everyone I love. I can't lose Jay, too!' Patty screamed as she took steps towards the bathroom door. Adam grabbed her and cradled her in his arms.

‘Sweetheart, no! You can't go out there. It's too dangerous.'

Taylor sobbed, watching as Patty sank into Adam's embrace. Graham and Fang squatted beside her, their arms around her shoulders, heads hung low, completely defeated.

‘He's not coming back, is he?' Taylor whispered, shocked she'd even spoken the words out loud.

Fang and Graham looked at each other, and then towards her, their desolate eyes speaking a thousand words. Fang took her hands in his. ‘I can't answer that honestly, mate. All we can do right now is pray for him. Would you like to do that?'

Graham placed his hand on her shoulder, smiling so warmly she could barely hold herself together. She nodded shakily, feeling like a thin pane of glass that was about to shatter. ‘I reckon that would be a great idea. Adam? Patty? Tom? What do you reckon?'

Tom shook his weary head. ‘I'm going back out to look for him so how about you lot say two prayers: one for Jay's safety and another that I find him before this cyclone hits again.'

Adam gently let go of Patty and stepped forward. ‘Tom, mate, we all want to go out there and find him, but right now all that's going to achieve is putting more of us in danger.'

‘Exactly, Adam, that's why I'm going back out there alone and the rest of you are staying put.' Tom stood, ignoring everyone's protests as he pulled a small photo frame from his pocket and handed it to Patty. ‘Please take care of this. It's the only thing that holds any value to me. It's all I have of her. I can't bear the thought of losing it.'

Patty hugged it to her heart. ‘I promise I'll keep it safe so I can give it back to you when all this is over.'

‘Thanks, Patty.'

They watched as Tom's shadow faded down the hallway and once he was out of sight they joined hands, ready to pray. Patty rested the frame in her lap.

Taylor leant in a little, curiosity getting the better of her, wanting to catch a peek at the woman Tom held so much love for. Her eyes came to rest on a black-and-white photo of a stockman cradling a baby. The room began to spin wildly around her. No — it couldn't be. It was impossible. Her father was dead. Pulling her hand from Patty's she leapt up on shaky legs, gasping for air, tears stinging her eyes and rolling down her cheeks. Her gaze was still glued to Patty's lap.

Patty reached out for her. ‘Love, what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost.'

Taylor pointed to Patty's lap. ‘Who — who is that man in the photo?'

Patty looked down, smiling. ‘Oh, that's Tom and his daughter. The one he never got to know because the wicked mother took off with her when she was only a few months old. And he's never seen her since, even though he's searched high and low. We reckon she might have changed her name, and the baby's, you know, so he couldn't trace her.'

Taylor grabbed hold of the basin, her legs buckling beneath her as she slid down to the floor and sat in a heap beside Patty. ‘But — I thought he was . . . dead.'

Patty took another fleeting look at the photo, and then at Taylor, and then back at the photo. ‘Oh my goodness, Tays. Tom's your father? Do you know that for sure?'

Taylor cupped her cheeks with her hands, and smiled. ‘I have that exact same photo. I've carried it around with me for most of my life, thinking that was all I was going to know of him. My mum told me he was dead.' Graham, Fang and Adam stared at her in shock, their mouths hanging open. She couldn't help but smile at them. ‘What was my name in that photo, Patty?'

Patty stroked the photo then placed her hand on Taylor's jiggling leg. ‘Your name, my love, was Skye — Skye Connors.'

Taylor rolled it over on her tongue, liking the sound of it. ‘Skye, hey? What a lovely name I had. Well, let's join hands and pray for the two loves of my life out there. The man I'm madly in love with and the father I thought I'd never meet.'

They all held hands tightly as the wind picked up like the wails of demons once more and Iva's onslaught continued on. Taylor's mind swirled as she begged for God's reprieve from this horrible nightmare. For, if they all made it through this dark tunnel and out the other side, her life would be perfectly complete.

2012 — Far North Queensland