Read Online Kinglake-350 by Adrian Hyland - Free Book Online

they get another call-out: a fire in Jacks Creek Road, in the nearby town of Humevale. It’s coming closer. They get going, but have barely hit the bitumen when they spot thin plumes of smoke snaking up from Coombs Road, a mere three or four kilometres away.
    Their own region. The fire has arrived.
    Spot fires, by the look of things, a scatter of wisps being tilted by the wind. Outbreaks ignited by burning debris ripped away from the main front. They have to be tackled at once, before they turn into something worse.
    More plumes appear. Both Kinglake West tankers rush out to meet them, calling the outbreak in to Vicfire as they speed out over the asphalt and turn down the dusty tracks.
    Frank Allan, on Tanker Two, sees at once they’re going to need support. ‘Make tankers five!’ He radios in for five additional appliances, but no support will arrive until much later that night, long after the damage is done. They’re on their own.
    In Kinglake village, the call comes in at around the same time. Code One—lights and sirens—for Eagles Nest Road in Strathewen, a tiny community at the foot of Mount Sugarloaf.
    Kinglake Tanker One is despatched, a team of five with Second Lieutenant Dave Hooper in command and Paul Lowe at the wheel. They debate briefly which road to take down to Strathewen: the dirt track along Bowden Spur is the direct route, but it’s more dangerous. All that dust will reduce visibility, and the track descends sharply though thick scrub; a hell of a place to be caught in a fire.
    They opt for the bitumen. Given the fire’s subsequent movement, the decision probably saves their lives.
    Kinglake captain Paul Hendrie is puzzled when he receives a request for the second tanker, this time for an outbreak in St Andrews. He assumes it’s a mistake: protocol demands that one tanker always remains in its home district. He ignores the call, but then receives another. And another.
    There’s a major strike team being formed, and Vicfire clearly want his home-defence appliance to be part of it.
    Hendrie and his remaining firefighters mull the question over. It sounds like something terrible is happening down there. The location is Mittons Bridge, on the northern outskirts of St Andrews. Almost in their area anyway. Chances are they’re the closest brigade. He’s loath to leave his town without defences, but, on the other hand, in fighting a fire at the foot of the mountain, they are in fact defending their own community. You fight the fire you’ve got. Hit it hard and hit it early. If they can stop it down there, it won’t come up the mountain.
    Hendrie makes the decision: he’ll despatch Tanker Two, but on the proviso that it returns to Kinglake as soon as the rest of the strike team arrive. The vehicle sets out with Lieutenant Steve Bell as crew leader, Ben Hutchinson at the wheel.
    The town of Kinglake is now without a fire appliance.
    As Ben belts through the town, he’s struck by the normality of it all. People are still going about their business, shopping, filling their cars at the service station, lounging out on the pub veranda. Kids are playing in front yards, drifting up and down on bikes in the way of country kids everywhere. The screaming, flashing tanker seems out of place, a rambunctious intruder in that rural idyll.
    By the time they make it back to Kinglake, the town will be in ashes.

ROADBLOCK

    As he races into Kinglake West at about 5 pm, Roger Wood wonders about the urgency of the call. His radio is going berserk, but it’s still ‘Kilmore, Wandong, Kilmore, Wandong’. That’s thirty kilometres away. Surely it would take hours to cross that distance? The adrenaline is coursing through his veins.
    He reaches the intersection, spots a red four-wheel-drive that has improvised a roadblock in the Whittlesea direction. A trio of yellow-clad firefighters are waving cars down. He wheels about to block off the road.
    One of the group comes over. Wood recognises Chris Lloyd.
    ‘Woody!