Wildfire

Chapter Eleven

At the conference centre, the public debate was scheduled to start in a few minutes.

The Oz Protectors were at the front of the queue. Timi, Amy and Joseph were first in through the doors, carrying their banner with the message: STOP SECRET US EXPERIMENTS. Timi had gone through a lot to be there. He was skipping classes at college and now he had lost his car. He felt pent-up and angry, looking to make somebody pay.

The two other members of the Adelaide branch were also cutting classes. Wez and his girlfriend Bo had been giving out leaflets in the centre of town since early that morning. They believed in their cause, and had ensured that a good crowd turned up. Soon that American major, colonel or whatever he was, would be answering some hard questions on live TV. The Australian public would be horrified when they learned what had been going on out in the desert.

Banners had to be left in the foyer. ‘Just toss it anywhere, chum,’ said a security guard. ‘Nobody’s going to pinch the bloomin’ thing, are they?’

Timi propped the banner next to one showing an Uncle Sam skull, then guided his companions through a side passageway. He had done casual jobs as a bouncer when rock concerts were held at the conference centre and knew the short cuts to the best seats.

They claimed a front row position and sat down.

Amy looked around the auditorium. ‘I don’t see any TV cameras.’

‘They’ll be round the back setting up,’ said Timi. ‘That’s what they do when they record concerts. They park the outside broadcast lorry in the alley at the back and the cameras transmit to it—’

The rest of his words were cut off by the fire alarm.

Timi couldn’t believe it. ‘Of all the times to hold a fire drill …’

Amy looked around to see what everyone else was doing. ‘Do we have to go out? Maybe we can just stay here.’

Conference centre officials appeared at the doors, wearing fluorescent vests and armbands. They beckoned people towards the fire exits.

A voice came over the tannoy: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, we respectfully request that you vacate the building. The public debate will take place at another time.’

Timi felt like spitting with rage. Amy and Wez pushed him along towards the door.

‘I haven’t been breaking my ass all morning for the debate to be cancelled!’ Timi’s English was slipping again as he became angry. He lapsed into a torrent of angry-sounding Korean.

‘It’s a conspiracy, mate, is what it is,’ reckoned Wez. ‘They don’t want us to be heard. The Pentagon will have made some calls and they’ve got these blokes here jumping through hoops.’

They reached the corridor, but as the crowd turned right, Timi, Amy and Wez hung back to wait for Bo and Joseph.

Bo touched Timi’s arm and pointed behind them.

Coming down the corridor from the other direction was a petite woman wearing a slightly crumpled safari suit, with a determined expression and straight red hair. She was talking to the American army guy.

Wez bristled. ‘There he is, about to get away scot-free.’

‘No he isn’t,’ said Timi. He strode up to Bel and Major Kurtis. The others followed.

‘Dr Kelland? Major? I know a quicker way out. Go back the way you came.’

The major hesitated, but Bel turned round immediately and quickly set off down the corridor. The major could barely keep up with her.

Following behind Timi, Amy bit her lip. What was he up to? she wondered.

Timi directed Bel and the major into the maze of passages behind the stage. After a few turnings he pulled open a door. ‘Stop, stop,’ he called. ‘You’ve overshot — it’s this way.’

Bel followed his instructions: like most forthright people, her first assumption was always that others were telling her the truth. Major Kurtis and the Oz Protectors hurried along behind her.

But then Bel realized where they were and looked round. ‘I think we must have taken a wrong turn. This is the janitor’s office.’

Timi stood in the doorway, blocking her exit. ‘No we haven’t taken a wrong turn, Dr Kelland.’ He nodded at the others. ‘We need to get the major.’ Then he grabbed Major Kurtis and pinned his arms behind his back. Although uncertain, Wez stepped forward to help; he was as tall as the older man and could subdue him easily.

The colour drained from Bel’s face. ‘What is this?’

Timi ignored her. ‘Major,’ he said in a dangerously calm voice, ‘I must ask you to come with us.’

Bel’s words came out as a rasp: ‘What do you want?’

The fire alarm was still ringing. ‘Let’s get out,’ said Joseph. ‘Shall we take her as well?’

Bel spoke through white lips. ‘Are you kidnapping us?’

‘We don’t need to take her,’ said Bo. ‘Shall we let her go?’

Wez shook his head. ‘She’ll raise the alarm.’ His eyes were wide behind his glasses. Caught up in the sudden turn of events, following Timi’s lead, he had a fanatical look.

Timi decided: ‘We’ll bring the major out here. Lock her in.’

Wez frogmarched the major back into the corridor, then Bo shut the door on Bel, dragged a chair across and jammed it up against the door, under the handle. The door thundered as Bel’s fists pounded on it. The handle jerked up and down, but with the chair under it she couldn’t turn it. And with the noise of the fire alarm no one would hear her.

‘We can’t leave her here …’ said Amy uncertainly, looking back at the door as she followed the others out.

‘Once the fire drill’s over somebody will soon find her,’ said Bo. ‘Come on, Ames.’

The corridor led to the back entrance, where the TV crew would be parked. Timi grabbed the major’s pinioned arm and jerked it forwards. ‘Walk. You’re going to tell the nation about those experiments you’ve been doing.’

The major did as he was told, but said nothing.

Amy ran ahead. ‘I’ll go and tell the TV guys we’re coming.’

Bo joined her and the two girls sprinted down the corridor. They pushed open the double doors at the end and went out onto the metal gantry of the fire escape.

A moment later they came back.

‘There’s no news crew here,’ called Bo.

Timi grabbed the major’s arm and pushed him the rest of the way up the corridor and out of the door. He stood on the metal gantry by the goods entrance, looking around in disbelief. The alleyway was full of smoke, and there was no sign of a TV crew.

‘Oh my God.’ Joseph pointed upwards and the others followed his terrified gaze.

The entire sky had changed colour. It was filled with boiling clouds of black and orange. Sirens wailed and, at the end of the alleyway, a fire engine roared past, its blue lights cutting through the smog like bolts of lightning.

Amy realized that people were running past in the street. ‘We’d better get out of here,’ she said.

‘No,’ snarled Timi. ‘We’re going to do the interview ourselves. Bo, get out your phone.’

‘Don’t be an idiot, Tim,’ said Amy. ‘We should go.’

Bo was looking at the display on her phone, lining up the shot. ‘Ready. Timi, you get in there next to the major.’

Timi looked the major full in the eye. ‘Your listening station in Coober Pedy. What’s really going on there?’

Major Kurtis kept his face impassive. He spoke patiently and calmly. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Wez tightened his grip on the major’s other arm. ‘You’re lying.’

Timi kicked the major in the shin. He winced at the pain.

‘So why is the population out there getting so ill? What are you messing with? Is it biological warfare? Radioactive fallout?’

The major let out a long, slow breath, composing himself. He looked away from Timi, directly into the camera. ‘This is a free country. If you have a reasonable objection you can make it democratically. You don’t have to do it with violence.’

Timi had had enough. ‘You lying bastard.’ He pulled something out of his pocket. A long blade glinted in his hand. A flick knife.

Amy, Wez, Joseph and Bo gasped in horror. The major stiffened with shock. Wez momentarily loosened his grip on the major’s arms, but the man was surrounded so he wasn’t going anywhere.

Timi grabbed the major’s lapel and pressed the blade against the skin of his throat. ‘You think you can keep a thing like this covered up, you arrogant bastard? I’ll tell you what I’m going to do; I’m going to make you talk.’

Bo looked at Amy. Her eyes were fearful and brimming with tears. Amy reached her hand towards Timi’s arm, but didn’t dare touch him. Wez tightened his grip on the major again. Joseph looked as though he wanted to run away.

The major swallowed. His Adam’s apple went up and down his throat, making the gleaming blade rise and fall. ‘I will offer no resistance,’ he said. The words sounded like a standard phrase learned on some military course.

‘You’re damn right,’ snarled Timi. ‘Now, tell the camera — what’s going on in Coober Pedy?’

The major looked at his captor. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. ‘I’m afraid I can’t answer that.’

Bo gave a sob and buried her face in Amy’s shoulder. Amy put an arm around her and looked at the major, pleading: ‘Just tell him, for pity’s sake!’

The janitor’s room was small and windowless — it was really just a large cupboard. The only light came from a row of glass bricks in the top of the wall and there was no ventilation.

Bel rattled the door handle, but there was something against the door stopping the handle from turning all the way.

Then she realized that she could smell smoke — it was drifting in under the door.

So it wasn’t a fire drill. Bel felt herself starting to panic, but her iron will took control just in time. After a minute of shouting at the top of her voice she slumped against the door, exhausted.

The fire alarm continued to ring and she could hear sirens. A lot of sirens.

Were all those fire engines for this one building? What on earth had happened?

A sturdy broom was propped up inside the door. She pulled the head off it so that she was left with a long wooden pole. She slipped the pole under the door and wiggled it around. She felt it hit something but she couldn’t tell what it was. Bashing it a couple of times failed to dislodge it.

Pulling the broom handle back in, she looked around the room for inspiration. Was there anything else she could use? The room contained a table with a kettle, some mugs and a portable CD player.

Bel picked up the CD player and snapped it open. Inside was a disc. She hurried back to the door and slipped her hand underneath, angling the shiny side of the disc. The image wasn’t as clear as a mirror but it was just enough to show her why the door wouldn’t open. The Oz Protectors had wedged a chair under the handle.

Bel felt a flash of anger. They’d locked her in and left her to burn. When she got out somebody was going to pay.

She pulled the CD back in, pushed the pole out against one of the chair legs and levered the chair out of the way. There was a clattering noise, then she found she could turn the handle and the door opened.

The corridor was hazy with smoke.

‘Hello?’ called Bel. Smoke caught her throat and she started coughing. She couldn’t hear anything over the screaming alarm.

She had to get out, but which way? This backstage part of the building was a warren of narrow corridors and staircases and she didn’t know the layout.

The smoke was blowing in from the right. To the left was a glowing FIRE EXIT sign over a door. Bel hurried over to it and seized the handle. It was hot but she pulled it open anyway.

The other side was a thick veil of smoke and a red glow, like burning coals. Air rushed in from the open door and in moments bright orange flames were leaping out at her.

Bel turned and raced back down the corridor, nearly falling over in her strappy sandals. ‘Doc Martens next time,’ she told herself.

Flames roared out of the room and pursued her, travelling fast as they took hold of the polystyrene ceiling tiles.

Seeing another door ahead of her, she peered through the glass and spotted a staircase leading up. Should she go upwards? Wouldn’t it be better to find a way out on the ground floor?

Then she noticed fumes curling in wisps from the ceiling tiles further along. She wasn’t a materials scientist, but she guessed the fumes were toxic. And they seemed heavier than air. Going up was probably the only option if she wanted to avoid being poisoned.

She took the stairs two at a time and came out in another corridor. She ran down to the end and emerged on the upstairs gallery, where big windows looked out onto a paved area and shops beyond.

For a moment she thought she was seeing things. The street outside was shrouded in a thick fog of smoke. Shapes moved around in it. Some were people, some were emergency vehicles. She could see pockets of orange flame and flashes of blue light. Several other buildings in the street seemed to be on fire. It looked more like War of the Worlds than the Adelaide business district.

She ran over to a window and hammered on the glass. Surely someone would look up from the street and see her. No one did. She examined the window frames, but they were solid and could not be opened. Bel whirled round, looking desperately for another way out, and saw a fire exit sign by the refreshment bar. She ran across and seized the handle. It burned her palm.

She backed away. She knew now what that meant: fire on the other side of the door.

There must be another fire exit, she thought. Then she saw the sign for the ladies’ toilet. That was bound to have an outside window for ventilation. The handle wasn’t hot so she pushed through the two sets of swing doors—

Only to find that there were no windows. Just an electric extractor fan.

She came back out again and saw another fire exit sign pointing to the stock room behind the refreshment bar. As she made her way through, the first thing that hit her was a smell of roasting. Along one wall boxes of crisps smouldered: they had set fire to the curtain at the end, but beyond that was a long window with a door leading out to a balcony.

Bel was about to make a dash for it when she realized that the carpet tiles were smoking. Her shoes were too flimsy to protect her if she ran across.

She grabbed a blue fire extinguisher off the wall and showered the carpet tiles with white powder. But the fat in the crisps had melted the plastic wrappers and soaked into the cardboard and the carpet tiles and was keeping them burning. She emptied the entire extinguisher over the floor but the heat was still too intense. The carpet tiles were starting to bubble as the rubber underneath melted. Bel threw down the extinguisher in despair.

Then she realized that she could still reach the other end of the window. Maybe there was another opening there.

But she found only a big expanse of glass. The only exit door was behind the burning curtain.

Bel ran back and retrieved the extinguisher. Even empty, it was as heavy as a dumb-bell. She held it like a baseball bat and whacked the glass nearest to her with all her strength. The window turned frosty and shattered, and she stumbled out, her feet skidding on nuggets of glass.

She ran along the balcony and down a fire escape to the street. She was out.

But maybe not safe yet. The street was full of smoke and teeming with firefighters and emergency vehicles. All the buildings she could see were on fire. Flames ringed the whole area, sending a tunnel of smoke up into the sky.

As she emerged, a firefighter approached her — a young woman with oriental features and smudged stripes on her face. She looked astonished to see Bel. ‘Where did you come from?’

Bel indicated the broken window. ‘In case of emergency, break the glass.’ She looked around. The only people she could see were firefighters. She felt disorientated and alone. ‘Where are all the delegates from the conference?’

Wanasri pointed down the road. ‘They were evacuated to the green.’

‘Maybe not all of them,’ said Bel. ‘I was with an American army officer and some protestors. We were right at the back of the building.’

‘Then they could still be trapped inside.’ Wanasri turned to a burly firefighter beside her. ‘Darren, we’d better get a crew into this building before the roof caves in.’