Nine
sadie
“Has it started yet?” I tucked my mask under my chin as I reached the car park exit, overstimulated from breathing my own air.
Our first stop hadn’t been worth the effort of getting out of the car. The shelves were the emptiest I’d seen them, and we’d left with two bags of dry goods. The only detail in our favour was still being able to pay electronically.
Tim turned his phone toward me and shared the shaky Facebook live footage one of his friends was filming. “They’re off and walking.”
I pressed the brake and leaned closer, my throat tightening at the sight. Hundreds and hundreds of people had gathered, chanting and shoving hastily made placards in the air.
Free the People.
No More Lockdowns.
Enough is Enough.
Police were there to monitor the crowd, and a few journalists reported from the sidelines with protective coverings on their faces.
“I don’t know what they’re hoping to achieve,” I said.
It would only take one person to cause an upset, and the anger and fear could become as contagious as the virus.
Tim rested his phone on his thigh with the screen facing upward. “I suppose they just want to feel like they’re doing something,” he said, “like you did when you went on your shopping spree.”
I pulled out of the car park and passed a man in a coat walking a Jack Russell in a matching jacket—one of many people who’d chosen to ignore the new restrictions only a day after they came into effect.
“Literally hundreds of them could have the virus,” I said, thinking out loud. “Or more.” All of them pressed in together, shouting and spraying particles.
“Yep, stay away from crowds, Sadie girl.”
I cruised to the end of the street and stopped at a T-intersection. “Stay away from people in general,” I said. “Apart from you, obviously.”
His mouth quirked. “Obviously.”
With the all-clear to my left and a blind corner on the right, I waited a beat just to be sure. The second I pulled out, a car with a damaged front bumper zipped around the bend like a maniac and raced straight at me.
I swore and hit the brakes with less than a metre to spare, my seatbelt locking across my chest. As we jerked to a stop in the middle of the intersection, the driver swerved and gave a long honk before continuing on his way.
I loosened my grip on the steering wheel and scoffed. “What the hell was that?”
“A fucking idiot.”
A laugh burst from me, and my racing heart settled a bit. “Hopefully just the one.”
Tim checked his phone again, then made a low sound in his throat. “Forget about the other supermarkets for now, my love. Today’s not the day. We should be at home.”
My entire body tensed at his tone. “Okay, just… don’t tell me what’s happening,” I said, taking a right. “I need to focus.”
Ominous clouds gathered overhead, and the first pinpricks of rain dotted the windshield. A couple of riders on e-scooters glided past with bandanas covering their faces, and a woman pushing a stroller waited to cross the road.
I hadn’t seen this many people out in months, and it had such an air of normalcy I almost forgot about the drama unfolding on Tim’s phone.
His eyes stayed locked on the screen, and he tutted at the footage. I still wasn’t in a place where I could concentrate on two things at once. My back straightened, and I frowned at a blockage up ahead that hadn’t been there when we first came through.
Four cars were parked at odd angles, with every driver and passenger outside their vehicles.
“Tim.”
“What?” He looked up at me, then at the road. “Oh. Oh.”
I slowed and searched for a side street, but there were no turnoffs between here and there, and the telegraph pole and bus stop prevented me from mounting the curb. We’d need to backtrack. “The idiot who nearly crashed into us must have been part of this,” I said.
“Or the cause of it,” he added.
Three men stood among the stationary vehicles, shoving one another and throwing punches. Their deep, echoing shouts mingled with the screams of a woman and girl who were trying to stop a fourth man from diving into the fray.
“We’re not stepping in,” Tim said. “The lady and kid are fine. The barbarians can sort themselves out.”
Instinct screamed at me to get involved, but logic told me to mind my own business. It was serious—hospital and police level serious—but calling for help was pointless.
“I’ll need to do a U-turn.” I checked my mirrors for activity behind me. My pulse skittered, and I pulled in a deep lungful of air.
“Do it now before we run out of room,” he said, abandoning the live feed on his phone.
With my gut in knots, I swung around and sped down the street until I reached the next turn. Once I’d slowed and hung a left, I eased off the accelerator and reminded myself to breathe.
“Everyone’s losing the plot,” Tim said in a hushed voice.
“I’m not even joking when I say it feels like the beginning of the end.” I pulled up at the next intersection and paused as two cars drove by. “How’s the protest going? What were you worried about before?”
Tim checked his phone and made a hissing sound. “Men on motorbikes were stirring up trouble,” he said. “It worked. People from the front are breaking away from the group and running ahead.”
“To do what?”
Were they planning on storming Parliament House? All those people crammed in together with a highly contagious disease rampaging out of control… God, we’d be in worse shape than ever by the end of the day.
“I’m not sure they know,” Tim said.
As I took the next turn on the longer route home, a message alert chirped. “Can you check that for me?”
Tim grabbed my phone from the console, holding it up to my face and unlocking the screen. “It’s Ava.” He paused, then read out her message. “Flight brought forward. Getting bad here.”
I tried my best to focus on driving, but my thoughts were racing. “What does that mean? How’s it getting bad?”
“Wait a minute. Don’t panic.” He stared at the screen, calm and patient, because it wasn’t his sister. “Another one just came through.”
My skin turned clammy, but I only had to wait a few more minutes. As soon as I got back, I could call her. Listen to her voice. “What did she say?”
He didn’t get the chance to find out.
Screeching tyres pierced the air, and a split second later, a car ploughed into us from a side street. A horrific bang followed, and airbags deployed around us like violent clouds.
“Oh, God. Hold on, hold on.” My stomach pitched as the impact threw me toward Tim.
He grabbed the handle above the door and flattened his other palm on the roof, trying his best to defy physics.
I clutched the wheel in a death grip, propelled into a one-eighty I had no hope of controlling. I didn’t even have time to scream or think. All I could do was hang in there and hope we survived.
The smell of burning rubber filled the interior, and my phone clattered into the footwell, Ava’s message left unread.
My heart pounded a wild beat, and we both made sounds I’d never heard either of us make before.
When we thudded to a stop in the centre of the road, the sudden loss of momentum yanked me into place again.
I sucked in a breath and uncurled my fingers, locking eyes with Tim as silence flooded the car.
My ears were ringing. Blood had pooled inside my cheek. The reality of what happened sank in, and so did the reminder that my car was still running. I shoved it into park and turned off the engine. “How… what was—”
Tim reached over and squeezed my knee. “It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re not hurt, are you?”
I lifted the edge of my seatbelt and touched the raw skin on my collarbone, wincing as it stung. It appeared to be the worst of my injuries, so I shook my head, fairly certain I was telling him the truth.
We weren’t the only ones involved, though.
I released the seatbelt catch and freed myself, poking around inside my mouth and finding a superficial graze. “What about the other driver?” I asked, swallowing the blood. “We need to make sure they’re okay.”
“Might not be the best idea with what’s happening around us.”
“I can’t just drive off and leave them. It’s obvious who was at fault. They won’t come out swinging.”
I hoped.
I couldn’t see a thing. With a growl of frustration, I shoved the deflating airbag from my face and climbed out, determined to do what was right—even if the city was imploding.
I shut the door and gave my car a sweeping glance. The collision had crushed the entire rear door and panel, leaving exposed, jagged edges behind.
Realisation dawned, and a breath rushed from me as I stared at the damaged backseat.
If we’d been hit a split second earlier…
I had no clue if cars were still driveable after airbags had deployed or if some kind of reset was required, but we’d deal with one problem at a time.
“Wait for me,” Tim said as he exited the passenger side. He came around to join me, then spotted the point of impact and whistled. “Any further forward, and you would have been squished, missy.”
I smiled despite the residual trembling in my limbs. “How is it you always know just what to say?”
An older model black Audi had come to a stop in the centre of the road, positioned diagonally with its front end facing us. Wisps of steam escaped from under the crumpled bonnet, and the bumper was in ruins. I didn’t need a mechanic to tell me it wouldn’t be leaving here without a tow truck.
I trained my ears for oncoming traffic as I approached, mentally steeling myself for the blood and cuts, the broken bones.
A passing pedestrian kept his gaze locked straight ahead and didn’t so much as glance our way. No concern or offer of help.
Tim caught up to me and snagged my elbow. “Don’t be in too much of a hurry,” he said, slowing my pace. “Hang back a bit and observe, just in case.”
“You don’t think that’s a tad dramatic? This isn’t a horror movie.”