Driftwood (26 page)

It was six twenty-two a.m. on Taylor's watch when Iva finally thundered away from Waratah Station, westward bound. According to the latest report on the portable radio, the cyclone was now classed as a category two, and weakening. She, Fang, Graham, Adam and Patty wriggled in their sitting positions, eager to get out of the confines of the three-by-two-metre room. It was only once the wind had been hushed for a good fifteen minutes that the group collectively decided it was safe enough to venture outside. The heart-wrenching search for Jay and Tom could now begin. Taylor silently repeated the mantra she'd been chanting in her head all night.
Please, Lord, let them be safe.

Gathering a sleeping Buster up from her lap, Taylor stood and passed him over to Patty, her legs cramped from sitting for so long. Adrenaline rushed through her once again, her pulse thumping wildly in her throat, the haunting image of Jay and Tom lying dead somewhere crushing her. She couldn't lose them,
either
of them, not now she'd been blessed enough to find them. Jay was exactly the man she'd been dreaming of falling in love with for half her life. Tom was the man she'd been led to believe only lived in her dreams. It still felt so surreal, that he'd been alive all this time, living his life, and pining for her just as much as she had been for him. Her mother had a hell of a lot of explaining to do when she finally felt calm enough to ring her. The bitterness she felt towards Grace right now was beyond her comprehension.

Slowly, Adam opened the bathroom door, all five of them unsure what was going to greet them, or if the homestead would still be left standing. The old concrete bathroom had provided an impenetrable safe haven from Ivy's fury. Floyd and Buster followed closely, their inquisitive noses to the ground. Floyd stuck protectively to Taylor's side, as he had all throughout the horrendous night. She was grateful for his unwavering companionship, it helped calm her a little.

The bathroom door squeaked open and Taylor clutched her chest as she stepped out into what used to be a grand hallway. It was now a mass of splintered wood, thick slushy mud and debris. Carefully they stepped over the disarray, no one speaking as they surveyed what was left of the homestead. They comforted Patty as she quietly sobbed for the place she called home, the memories that were now swept away with it, and, most certainly, for the son she was scared she'd lost. Taylor could see that it was hitting all of them hard, the absolute destruction that Iva had left in its path breaking their hearts into tiny pieces.

The roof was still complete, which was a godsend, but half the lounge room had been blown away. Taylor stared in disbelief. If she and Patty had stayed much longer would they have been dragged away with it? How long after they'd slithered down the hallway had this happened? She would never know, and she didn't want to.

Stepping into the kitchen there was a small wave of relief. Other than some water damage from the smashed window, it was astonishingly intact. Maybe the star picket spearing through the window had relieved the pressure of the room, and in turn saved it. After experiencing the pulling power of the cyclone as it had tried to drag her out the window, she knew it was a big possibility.

Still no one spoke, focusing on finding Jay and Tom. Moving strewn about dining furniture out of the way of the back door, Fang pushed it open, revealing the annihilation outside. It looked like a bomb had been dropped. Taylor wrapped her arms around herself, feeling as though someone had just punched her in the chest. Almost everything was gone, as though it had been blown clean off the earth: the stables, the sheds, half the trees, and the horses, all those beautiful horses, were gone, and perhaps dead. And what about Tiny, Jay's pride and joy? She slowly scanned the devastated landscape. How in the hell could Jay and Tom have lived through this?

Taylor searched her friends' faces, not liking what she saw. Adam crouched down, overcome with despair as he covered his face with his hands. Fang stood with arms crossed firmly, shaking his head. Graham walked around in circles as he stared towards the sky, cursing. Taylor felt like collapsing in a heap. It didn't look good at all.

Reaching out, Taylor embraced Patty. It was all too much, even for the broad-shouldered country blokes, as every one of them remained speechless. They all stared into the destitute emptiness, some with tears in their eyes, some too angry to cry. Iva had taken everything from them and, like a toddler having a tantrum, had smashed it to smithereens. Iron, timber, household items and machinery, strewn about the paddocks and grounds as if all of it was worthless rubbish.

Fang sniffed loudly then placed his hands steadfastly on his hips. ‘Right, you mob. This is the plan. We separate and go in different directions so we can cover ground quickly. We don't want Jay and Tom out here any longer than necessary, especially if they're badly hurt. We'll all meet back here in an hour. Deal?'

‘Deal,' was the collective reply as they all chose a direction, calling Jay's and Tom's names.

Taylor trudged towards the workers' cottage through mud up to her ankles, calling then listening, straining to pick up any voices from the wreckage. Her ears rang with the stillness, no wind, no birds singing, and no livestock calling out — it all seemed alien, unnerving.

Reaching the cottage, she was filled with hope, the place still mainly undamaged other than the fact it was missing half the roof, which was now lying thirty metres further down the track in pieces. The shed that housed the chopper was still standing, but battered, one half of the iron sheeting ripped to shreds like a gigantic tiger had sharpened its claws upon it. From what she could see, the chopper looked undamaged, which was a relief, in case they needed to get either Tom or Jay to a hospital.

There was no doubt in her mind that the roads would be shut, maybe for weeks. That was, if the roads were even still there. She suddenly recalled the images of Cyclone Yasi in Cardwell, where the brutality of the cyclone had basically swallowed the beautiful little seaside village whole and left the residents with no way in or out for days. Viewers had been glued to their television sets all night, watching Yasi descend on Cardwell and praying for the people who lived there.

She stumbled forwards, yelling Jay's and Tom's names, and praying for a reply. If they were in the cottage there was a big chance they might have survived. Rushing from room to room in the slush, carefully avoiding trashed pieces of furniture and household items, she continued to call out, only to be met with an exasperating silence.

After a quick final glance confirmed no one was there, she leapt down the three front steps and began to jog down what used to be a track. The little bough shed that Jay had showed her on her first visit to Waratah was her next stop. Considering it was over a hundred years old, she doubted it would still be standing, but it was worth a try. Between heavy breaths, she spoke to Floyd, who was still by her side. ‘We have to find Jay and Tom, buddy. Do you reckon you could put that nose of yours to good use and go find them for me?'

Floyd barked, his tail wagging fervently.

‘I hope that was a yes,' she replied anxiously as she rounded a corner and what remained of the little hut came in full view. Her heart sank at the sight of the disarray. If Jay and Tom had somehow made it down here for refuge, they'd have Buckley's of being alive. There was nothing left of the bough shed, other than a pile of timber and corrugated iron. The ground was inundated with water, large pools of sludge everywhere.

She continued calling out, her throat hoarse, even though it was beginning to feel fruitless. Why would Jay or Tom have come this far? Floyd whined beside her, his ears pricked, as he looked from her to the rubble repeatedly. She nodded, giving him the go ahead to do as he wished. Floyd bolted away and Taylor ran after him. About ten metres down the track he began digging furiously at the muddy ground, barking frantically. She scurried to join him.

‘Jay? Tom? Jay, are you here? Jay! Tom! Please answer me!'

Frustrated tears poured down her cheeks as she knelt to the ground, engrossed in the spot where Floyd was digging. She called out once more, feeling absolutely helpless. Then, thinking there was a faint reply, she froze, halting her breath, listening. Silence. She placed her ear just above the ground, stopping, listening. ‘Jay, Tom, are you here?' In this position she spotted a rope covered in mud, the length of it travelling to the base of a huge gum tree and the other part of it leading to the ground.

A muffled voice came from beneath her. ‘Tays — help me. Please. I'm trapped.'

Jay! A rush of hope filled her as she began ploughing at the thick sludge with her hands along with Floyd. ‘Jay, where are you? Are you hurt?'

‘I'm not sure. Please, hurry.'

Taylor wept as she frantically scraped the mud away with her hands. ‘Hang on, Jay. I'm here. I'm coming.'

Her hand smashed into something hard, peeling the skin off her knuckles. Ignoring the pain, she grabbed what appeared to be the handle of a huge cellar door and with every bit of strength she had, she dug her heels into the ground and heaved it up. Jay smiled feebly back at her while taking gasping lungfuls of precious oxygen, his burly body hanging onto a rope that led down beneath him and disappeared into the cavernous hole.

Taylor reached out to help him, gently shoving Floyd out of the way as he tried to lick Jay to death. ‘Oh my God, Jay. Thank God you're alive.' She took his hand and helped him up. He looked terribly pale, but gloriously alive. Wrapping her arms around him she sobbed on his shoulder, the feel of his body against her own incomparable to anything right now. Jay squeezed her tight, as if he was afraid she was going to blow away. The two of them were content to just be in each other's arms.

Gathering herself enough to speak, she exhaled a shaking breath. ‘I thought I'd lost you, Jay. It was horrible.'

Jay gently pushed her back so he could look into her eyes. ‘It was thoughts of you that kept me going, Tays. I love you so much.'

‘I love you too.' She kissed him repeatedly on the lips, smiling through her tears and then pointed to the hole. ‘What made you think to get in there?'

‘Well, when the stables fell down around us, I was still hanging onto the door when it blew away. It landed just over there, with me still attached to it.' Jay pointed to the door now embedded in the mud and Taylor shuddered, thinking of how scary it must have been and how lucky Jay was to have survived it. ‘I tried to get back up to the homestead but it was impossible with the wind so I took cover in the hut. Then, piece by piece, it was ripped away around me. And I was left hanging on to the fireplace, watching the floorboards get plucked one by one. I was just about to give up hope when I remembered this old mineshaft Dad had once told me about, and warned me to stay away from. There was some old rope I'd found in the hut and had kept just in case I needed it. I tied it to the tree over there and then climbed on in, shutting the trapdoor behind me. Only I couldn't open it to get back out, especially with the weight of all the mud that had settled on top of it.' He held up a timeworn timber box, smiling softly. ‘And look what I found down there — this antique jewellery box. I used the light from my mobile phone to have a look around at the bottom. At least it came in handy for something; the bloody thing has no reception in here. But the box is bolted shut so I don't know what's inside.' He grinned. ‘I reckon that fob watch might have been my lucky charm, Tays, maybe William
was
with me throughout the night, keeping me safe and leading me to this buried treasure.'

‘I reckon he might have been, Jay. It's a miracle you've survived out here.' She tapped the jewellery box. ‘I'm sure we'll be able to get it open to see what's in there. But first . . .' Taylor lowered her eyes, the exhilaration of finding Jay safe and sound overshadowed by her apprehension for Tom's well-being.

Jay's smile quickly faded as he placed his hand on her arm. ‘What is it, Tays? Is it Mum? Is she hurt?'

‘No, Patty's fine. A little shaken with the state of the homestead but . . .' Her voice trailed off, the rumble of Stoney Creek dragging her attention from Jay's worried gaze, the once meandering stream now a raging serpent as it snaked its way through the red muddy earth. She bit her bottom lip to stop it from quivering. How was she going to say this? ‘Tom's missing, Jay. He went looking for you and never came back.'

‘Oh, Jesus. No.' Jay rubbed his face. ‘Come on then, we'd better get back there to help look for him. Tom's the closest thing I have to a father. It'll kill me if something's happened to him.'

‘Me too,' Taylor said faintly.

‘Yeah, he's an easy one to love, our Tom.'

‘No — well, yes, I mean, he
is
easy to love, especially considering Tom's my father.'

Jay looked at her disbelievingly. ‘But that's impossible! I thought your dad passed away when you were a baby.'

Taylor crossed her arms defensively. ‘I'm not kidding around, Jay. Tom's my dad. I found out last night when I spotted a photo of him with his daughter. It's exactly the same one I have of my dad.'

Jay's eyebrows shot up. ‘Well, fuck me! That's fabulous news. Does Tom know?'

‘Not yet, we have to find him so I can tell him. I can't believe I've been working with him these past few weeks not even knowing he's my father. No wonder I felt like I knew him when I met him. He's my flesh and blood. And it explains why I reminded him of someone: I look a lot like my mother.'

Jay gave her shoulders an encouraging squeeze as he stood, his face twisting in pain when he stretched his legs. ‘Don't worry, we'll find him. I won't rest until we do.'

He reached out his hand, motioning for her to grab it as he helped her up. Then they ran back towards the homestead with Floyd in tow. Taylor glanced sideways to see how Jay was faring, the raw emotion evident as unshed tears sat in his big brown eyes. She gave his hand a squeeze and he squeezed back, smiling at her.