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barely
noticed the ash spotting them before he yanked one down and wrapped it around himself, grateful for
any defence against the sunshine that baked his skin.
    The dogs didn't come out to greet him; there was no sign of either of them.
    He grabbed the rail of the rear stairs like an old man clutching a walking frame and hauled
himself up, one painful, lead-heavy step at a time, until he reached the shade of the verandah. He
went to open the back door but his legs gave out and he lurched into it; the door fell open under
his weight and he sprawled on the lino near the dining table.
    Voices came from the living room; footsteps; gasps. Hands rolled him over, and tears soaked his
mother's cheeks as she looked down on him in shock and wonder.
    'My God, Kevin, they said… The police said they looked everywhere . Where have you
been?' She hugged him, her body painfully hot, and he clung to her, shivering.
    Meg stood nearby, hands to her face, eyes wide. She was in jeans, T-shirt and cardigan, her hazel
curls bouncing loose around her face.
    'Let's get him into the bedroom.' His mother's voice faded in and out like a radio off-station.
    They helped him to his room at the far end of the house. Meg drew the curtains, blocking out the
cracked and shattered windows, the view of the devastated service station.
    'Meg, go call for an ambulance,' his mother said.
    'That's two hours. Maybe we should drive him ourselves?'
    'Just go call triple-0.'
    Meg left and his mother told him, lullaby-style, to lie still; to tell her if this hurt;
or this, or this. His mother's hands probed and lifted. 'I think you're all right, under all that
dirt and muck.' She sounded surprised through the sniffles. 'Let's get you cleaned up.'
    'Mum?' he mumbled, reaching tiredly. 'Megs?'
    'Relax, Kevin, you're safe now. Safe. I'll be back in a jiffy.'
    She brought a bowl and some towels. When she'd washed him down and pulled the blanket up, she sat
by his side, holding his hand and feeding him sips of water. It didn't bring much relief. Maybe it
was the smoke or maybe the dirt he'd swallowed, but the thirst just wouldn't go away. His throat was
so raw and tight; the water hurt like pebbles going down.
    'You're cold, Kevin,' his mother said. 'You want more blankets?'
    'Hot.' He took another sip of water, choked it down.
    'You're okay,' she told him, sniffling, her eyes red and puffy. 'Dehydration, sunburn. Shock.'
    'Where's Dad?'
    His mother dabbed at her eyes with a bunched tissue. 'He's gone, son.'
    'Gone?'
    'Found him in the servo, after they'd put the fire out. So they think. Took him to Charleville,
to be sure.'
    She sniffed and pulled herself straight. 'Thought you were in there, too. The policeman, he said
you were both… He said he'd seen you both, before he dragged his partner out, before it burnt
down. Thank God he was wrong.'
    'I don't understand.'
    'They even killed Bill and Ben.'
    Kevin closed his eyes against the memories, the scarlet-tinged playback of his world falling
apart: his father and the biker talking, gunshots, the sound of Molotovs exploding, the rush of heat
and smoke. Boots, pointing to the ceiling, over by the door; scuffed and stained, a split in the
side - his father's most comfortable pair, 'still a few miles left in them'. That cheeky grin.
    'A gang, the police said. The Night Riders.' His mother pronounced their name as though it was a
foreign language; something curious. 'They wanted to get their leader back. Bad luck, the policeman
said. Just bad luck.'
    'The leader, he was-' More memories: dark skin and white eyes and even whiter teeth. Kevin
kneaded his temples as though he could massage the thoughts into some kind of sense.
    Meg came back and sat by his side, her brow creased, those honey-brown eyebrows almost meeting.
'I rang Smithy. He's on his way.'
    Kevin heaved himself into a sitting position. 'Did he say anything about that city cop, Hunter?'
The more he thought about Hunter and his partner Dave, the more he thought that