Newcastle Herald Short Story competition finalist 2020: After The Fires by Niko Campbell-Ellis

If that portrait speaks volumes of my sons, what does mine say of me? Why did I grab Alex by the shoulders and shake him until his tears splashed my hands.

I shouted at them. "Pack your favourite things!" "Only one bag!" "Get in the car!" "We've got to go now!"

Hot wind tore at us as we lugged our most precious possessions and our most mundane necessities to the car. It sucked the moisture from my throat when I called to the boys. It ripped my hair and whipped my face. It flung dust and ash in my eyes. Smoke blurred everything.

Alex approached the car like a sleepwalker. The more urgent I was, the slower he moved until he was wading through honey, or tar.

I called Silky as we piled in. I screamed her name. The damn dog was nowhere to be seen. Cam undid his belt and jumped out, calling for her. The wind shredded his words long before they could have reached the dog's ears.

"We'll have to go without her, we can't stay," I said. I shouted. Cam ran. He was faster than me and under the house before I could grab him. I knelt at the manhole.

"Cam, come out. We have to go."

Silky's yap and Cam's cry of pain confirmed his suspicion of her hiding place. He emerged, one hand gripping Silky's collar and the other dripping blood. He was pale with shock.

"Silky bit me mum."

"She's scared honey. Get in the car. I'll carry her."

I scooped Silky into my arms and ran for the car. We could really hear the fire now, hear it roar as it devoured the hills.

I dumped the dog on the passenger seat and started the car. What had I forgotten? What thing would I remember when it was too late? Wallet, phone, children ... that would have to do.

I drove as fast as I dared, headlights on, down the driveway and away from our home, into the world of smoke and heat. At the gate I hesitated. Was this how Alex felt, this paralysis of mind and body? Do I leave the gate open, or close it because we always close the gate? I left it open but I don't know if it was simply the absence of a decision.

We were halfway to the Mackin's place when Alex screamed.

"Bun Bun!"

Shit! I'd forgotten his bunny.

Cam joined the chorus.

"Bun Bun! We've got to go back for Bun Bun."

I kept driving. Their wails reached a pitch I'd never heard before.

"We can't go back, it's not safe." Everything around us was smoke and heat and falling ash. Could we go back?

The noise Alex made was primal. Something between a scream and a moan.

Cam stopped speaking. The car was full of Alexs noise. And smoke and the smell of our world burning.

I didnt say anything else. I drove towards town. I was crying but I dont know if it was from the smoke or for Bun Bun or because I was wounding Alex more with each centimetre I drove further from his bunny.

At the evacuation centre, Alex ate and washed and slept when he was told, but he didnt play with the other kids like Cam did. The ability of these kids to find joy in each other brought smiles to the most desperate faces. When the volunteers offered Alex his choice of teddy at bedtime, from the mammoth pile of donations already there, he just shook his head. He wouldnt even look at the fluffy bunny I found.

When I held him and whispered that I was so, so sorry, he lay still in my arms. I think he was waiting for me to release him.

The next day we were allowed to go home. As we drove, the boys were silent and wide eyed at what the fire had devoured overnight. The shady canopy wed driven under was a sparse mosaic of crisp brown leaves. The forest wed been unable to see into was a graveyard of black sentinels standing in a grey blanket of ash. Id thought you couldnt see the forest for the trees but it turns out, you cant see the forest for the undergrowth. Now there was no undergrowth. And I can see that the forest is so much more than the trees.

I closed the gate behind us because we always close the gate, but the fence was burnt out on both sides.

Boys, I dont know if our house will still be there. You have to be ready for it to have burnt down okay.

They nodded at me. Would I ever again stand in the kitchen and watch them run together?

Miracle of miracles, entirely cast by the RFS and not by any divine agent, our house was still standing. The orchard was gone. Some of the trees in the gully looked like they might have survived but most were gone. The grass was black right up to the clothesline, the wires sagging tangles of melted plastic and wire.

Cam ran straight to Bun Buns cage. It was in the shade of the house, the grass around it wasnt burnt. I stood at the car, watching him crouch and lift the lid. I tried to read his emotions by the shape of his back. He was nervous, resigned, then a moment of hope. He dropped to his knees and reached into the cage. When he turned back towards the car, his smile was golden.

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