Thirty-Five
sadie
The closer we got to the farm, the more Theo’s tension escalated. He alternated between holding the wheel in a death grip and tapping his fingers on his thigh.
I felt every nervous tic, every sigh, in my bones. He didn’t know if his family had survived—or if they were still in this location. Anything could have happened after we lost communication.
I desperately wanted to say something to put his mind at ease, but I was as much in the dark about his family as I was about my own sister.
“There’s so much space here,” I said, stroking my hand over the back of Brynn’s head. She’d fallen asleep not long after the confrontation at the rest stop, her only movements now the occasional grizzle.
“I used to think there was too much,” Theo said. “This is the first time I’m seeing it as a plus.”
Paddocks showed the first signs of green as autumn slipped into winter. Eucalyptus trees swayed in the breeze, and a red tractor sat smack in the middle of a field on the right, as if the farmer had abandoned his machinery mid-crisis.
No infected were roaming, but I’d never fool myself into thinking it would last.
“How far now?” I asked.
Theo flicked the indicator. “This is it.” He turned onto Bolton Street, then straightened and picked up speed again.
My stomach dipped. Out of nowhere, it suddenly seemed too soon to be meeting his family. “Now I really am nervous,” I said. “What if they don’t like—wait.” I stared at him. “The street has your last name.”
He threw me a smile, the tightness in his features softening. “Our family’s been in the area for three generations.”
“That’s… a long time.”
Something inside me eased, and I pictured the weeks and months ahead. We could set up here permanently. Give Brynn somewhere safe to live. She’d never remember the tragedy of her parents’ death or the hours she’d spent trapped in the van.
Theo grabbed my hand briefly and squeezed. “This is where it starts,” he said, nodding to the left.
I smiled uncertainly, wondering if he meant literally or figuratively. Either way, it was true.
I followed his line of sight and found heavy pine posts securing an endless stretch of mesh fencing about two metres tall. Contained on the inside were rows and rows of olive trees—there had to be thousands. I had a feeling I could walk around all day counting without reaching the end.
“It’s huge. Your dad looks after this all by himself?”
“He’s had a steady stream of backpackers and farmhands over the years, and high school kids used to work in the cafe on weekends.” Theo pointed at the outer rows as he drove. “Some of it’s gone to shit now without the farmhands around. That’ll be killing him.”
The branches were barren looking, the ground beneath the trees equally parched. I’d never had much of an interest in plants, trees, or gardening, but examining his dad’s crop helped take my mind off our impending arrival.
Theo lifted his foot off the accelerator. “We’re here.”
Bolton Olive Estate, est. 1995. The sign was stencilled steel, artfully rusted.
A stone wall on either side of the entrance flanked a security gate with sharpened tips on each rod to keep climbers out.
I truly hadn’t known olives needed guarding until today, and now the fences would protect us from the outside world, too.
Theo’s fingers flexed on the wheel as he pulled into the gravel driveway.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “Whatever happens next, whatever’s waiting here, we’ll get through it together.” I rested my hand on his thigh as I cradled the back of Brynn’s head.
The entrance and the surrounds were still being maintained. No weeds or broken fencing. It could have been pre-Ultimus for all the impact the virus had had here.
Theo eased to a stop beside a keypad fixed to a metal pole. The security system appeared to be powered by a bank of solar panels inside the fencing, so I could only assume it still worked.
He punched in a series of numbers, and a whir filled the silence.
Seeing the gates move sent a jolt through me, and I held my breath as they slid back all the way, inviting us inside.
Here I was trying to calm Theo when I could barely contain my own nerves.
He waited a second and took off again, cruising down the driveway at walking pace as tension built inside the car.
Then I heard it.
A distant dog barking. High-pitched, excited.
Theo made a strangled sound. “Norm.”
“Your dad?”
“No. My dad’s David—Dave—I can’t believe I never told you that.” He sighed as if disappointed by the oversight. “Norm’s his dog.”
The barking intensified, echoing down the driveway even before he’d appeared. “That means they’re still here,” I said, my heart beating faster. “They’re alive.”
“Not necessarily. Brynn was crying when we found her, and her parents were dead in the front seat, remember?” His words came off matter-of-fact, but he shifted in his seat as we covered more ground, stretching out fingers that had been gripping the wheel too tightly for too long.
I swallowed through the sudden ache in my throat and waited for the house to appear. The dog. Anything. Please let them be alive.
We hadn’t even reached the end of the driveway when a black-and-white blur shot toward us.
Theo inhaled sharply as if he’d just been punched in the chest. “That’s him. Jesus. That’s Norm.”
A border collie bounded beside the car, barking madly, tail thwacking from side to side. I smiled as Brynn stirred against my chest, emotion rising in me until it had nowhere to go. Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I sucked in a ragged breath.
Theo’s posture went rigid as if he had to physically hold himself back from hoping too much.
He crept forward, taking care with the dog, and as we rounded the slight bend at the end of the drive, a brick ranch-style house came into view.
Everything about it, from the clean bricks to the weed-free garden beds and gravel paths, suggested someone had been here all along doing the work. It looked lived in. Loved.
A separate shop on the righthand side had bench seats and folded umbrellas outside, with an adjoining visitors’ car park where three cars sat—a couple of four-wheel-drives and a hatchback.
Two caravans were parked on a patch of gravel with folding chairs out the front.
The beginning of a community, as if they’d started forming a compound.
“Do you know those cars?” I asked, hearing the thickness in my voice.
“That’s Mia’s on the end there,” Theo said. “The others… I don’t know—and I’ve never seen the caravans before.”
As he switched off the engine, I didn’t know what to think. The only thing I knew for sure was that Norm was beside himself, and if we didn’t get out soon, he might collapse from the excitement.
The front door of the main house flew open then, and a small figure rushed outside, a whirlwind of wild red hair dressed in a blue jumper and pink jeans. She froze when she saw the ute, and my breath caught.
Ruby. It had to be Theo’s niece.
She locked onto him sitting behind the wheel and didn’t hesitate. Just ran at him screaming his name.
Without a word, Theo threw the door open and stumbled on the gravel, catching himself as he raced the final few steps to reach her.
He dropped to his knees just as she collided with him, and my chest wrenched with a dry sob.
Both his arms went around her, holding tight, and he rose to his full height, burying his nose in her hair as she dangled against him.
“I knew you’d come.” Her sweet voice drifted through the driver’s door as Brynn opened her eyes and looked up at me. “I knew it, Uncle Theo.”
Another figure appeared at the front entrance, pausing for a moment and taking in the scene.
A woman this time, with shoulder-length hair the same shade as Ruby’s.
She wore a green hoodie and baggy black pants, her feet in off-white Crocs that brought back memories of Laura and the life we’d left behind.
Mia. Theo’s older sister.
She stepped outside and let out a squeak of surprise that hit me straight in the chest.
My gaze flicked to Theo as he lowered Ruby to her feet again.
Half-turned toward me, those pretty grey eyes of his were damp with tears, his expression raw, unfiltered joy.
He held out his arms to his sister, and she ran to him, a funny laugh-cry tearing from her throat as he hauled her against him.
I swallowed and dragged in another sobbing breath.
This was what it was all about—what it had always been about. It didn’t matter what happened, as long as we had the people we loved around us.
Ruby clung to Theo’s waist, and Norm bounced around the three of them in delirious circles, barking and wagging his tail.
I unfastened my seatbelt and eased the door open, stepping down with Brynn on my hip.
My earlier nerves returned, and my legs trembled. If Ava, Tim, and Varesh didn’t show up, would I be the odd one out here, a forever outsider in an otherwise tight knit family?
“Where’s Dad?” Theo asked, draping his arms over both Mia’s and Ruby’s shoulders.
“Here’s here. He’s fine,” Mia said. “Just taking his time coming out. What happened to you?” she asked, tugging on the front of his shirt. “You’ve got dried blood all over you.”
“Nothing to worry about. Just a few challenges on the way.”
It seemed to occur to her that someone else was missing from the group, and she stepped out from under his arm. “Wait—did you bring Sadie? Where is she? Tell me she made it through the virus.”
It was a strange feeling, hearing someone I’d never met say my name like she knew me.
“She’s good,” Theo said, his gaze seeking me out. “She's recovering fine, just taking her time coming out, too.”
My heart thundered as I rounded the front of the ute, my hip bumping into the bloodstained bullbar. I straightened, and my face heated as I offered a smile. “Hi.”