Chapter 4: Adventure's End

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They slept side by side all night, and well into the morning, and when she finally eased herself out from under her father's arm, being careful not to wake him, Fee took one look at him and knew that she couldn't let him hunt anymore. The savage heat of the Nullarbor, and the physical effort of carrying "The Biggie" back to the van, had wrung every drop of energy out of both of them.

Fee considered their options as she dressed, pulling on a pair of clean shorts and her favorite anime angel t-shirt. True, they had two more days left on the van's hire contract, which gave them enough time for another whole day's hunting... but there didn't seem much point. It was hard to see how they could improve on the previous day; finding anything smaller than Biggie would be an anti-climax.

Besides, Fee told herself, enjoying her breakfast of fresh orange and pancakes as they sat on the camper steps, watching the Sun climb into the burning sky, the largest of their two finds would more than pay for the Nullarbor trip on its own, and give them enough funds to fly home and rest while they planned their next expedition. Why kick a gift horse in the mouth?

"I think we've done enough here," she said, trying not to let her voice waver, then sat back and waited for her father to argue. But, to her surprise, he accepted her view without argument. That struck her as odd; usually he would put up at least a token resistance, as if he felt it was his fatherly (or perhaps just adult) duty to resist and fight the end of a hunt, but this time he just nodded sagely and looked out across the orange expanse of the Nullarbor, thinking deep, unspoken thoughts. She wanted to ask if he was okay, but held back, sensing he didn't want to be disturbed. Something was on his mind, but she knew he'd tell her when he was ready, so she quietly stacked his empty plate on top of hers and headed back inside the van to wash up, leaving him alone with the desert.

Maybe he was just as tired as she was, she didn't know, but she wasn't going to ask.

It seemed to take forever to pack everything, but eventually they were ready to break camp, and with the van tidied and all their possessions (what few there were of them, really just the laptop, charts, tents and personal bags - oh, and the lantern,  of course!) crammed into bags and holdalls they went back outside to look out across the Nullarbor one last time.

"I didn't realise it would be so empty," her father observed, staring out across the endless, rust-red plain, shielding his eyes from the high Sun with a dust-streaked hand, "just miles and miles of nothing..."

"Oh, I don't know, I think it's kind of pretty, in its own way,"

Fee sighed, enjoying the feel of a rare breeze blowing through her hair. She'd left it loose today, as she preferred it. She wasn't a vain person, not in any way, looks had never been important to her, but she loved the way her hair hung down like a brown curtain, falling past her waist.

Her father looked at her with a stunned "What?" expression on his face.

"No, really, I do," she insisted, "It's... pure, untouched, doesn't pretend to be something it isn't."

She stared out across the plain, marvelling at the view. The horizon was so flat, so sharply scored across the sky, it looked like the very edge of the world itself, and it was easy to believe someone walking out to it would topple over a huge cliff and fall into an endless abyss...

"Just rock, and dirt, and sky..." she said wistfully, drinking in her final view of the landscape. Pure. Clean. Uncomplicated.

If only life could be more like that.

Her father didn't want to intrude upon her reflective mood, her love of nature was one of the things he adored most about her, and he would have liked to have allowed her a few more minutes with the desert, but he knew they had to get going. "Well," he said, faking a yawn as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "time we were on the road. The sooner we get this heap of - sorry, the sooner we get this 'reliable, robust desert vehicle'" he drawled, doing a passable impression of the hire agent back at Mundrabilla, "back, the sooner we can get on that bus and head into Adelaide. And you know what's there, don't you?" he added, winking mischeviously.

"Shops!" she beamed, looking up at him.

"Well, actually I was thinking of a shower and clean clothes," he sighed, "but yes, I suppose there will be a few shops..."

After a last look at the desert they shared a final hug and then piled back into the van, Fee riding shotgun beside her father.

"I want to look for that market I read about in the magazine on the plane," she said excitedly, sliding the door shut as she clambered into the seat. "Oww!" The leather was hot from the Sun. "It looked like they have some amazing things there!" she said, rubbing her stinging thighs.

"I think I know the one you mean, Orange Lane..?" he asked, sensing an opportunity to tease her as he stretched the seatbelt across his chest. "Well, it's okay, I guess, if you're a weirdo... all those tarot cards, crystal balls, joss-sticks and New Age mumbo jumbo - "

"Excuse me, but I happen to *like* that 'mumbo jumbo'..!" she protested, clicking her own belt buckle into place.

"Like I said," he replied, "it's okay if you're a weirdo..!"

"Hey!!" Scowling, she punched him playfully on the arm, and as she laughed he howled in mock pain, turning the key to start the engine. Nothing happened.

A guillotine blade came down on their good mood. Both fell silent, all joking forgotten, images of being stuck in the desert flashing through their minds as they exchanged concerned glances.

"Try her again Chewie," Fee said, trying to sound light-hearted, but there was an edge of tension in her voice. Her father nodded and turned the key again - and this time it started. The guillotine blade lifted again, their good mood flooded back.

"You two okay back there?" he called out to their precious cargo, bubble-wrapped and secured in boxes at the rear of the van. "Yes!" Fee replied in a tiny, sing-song voice, and they both giggled, as much from relief as from amusement. Then that quiet moment that always comes at the end of every trip, when you realize that it's Time to go. With a last look out the

window, thanking the Nullarbor for having them, they turned their backs on their camp and headed towards the edge of the desert. Soon they were off the plain and on the road.

Their first great Nullarbor Hunt was over.

It was a two hour drive back to Mundrabilla, the little town made famous by the nearby fall of the two meteorites in 1966, but it seemed to take twice that long. It didn't help that the scenery beyond the window never changed from one minute to the next, always just a vast expanse of open desert on each side of the road, flattened by a heavy, deep blue sky. They sipped water, nibbled cookies, sang along to tunes on the radio, swapped awful jokes, occasionally fell silent for a while, and gradually the time was eaten away, until eventually Mundrabilla appeared out of the heat haze. He turned to smile at her.

Almost there.

Spirits high again they chugged into town, waving at a couple of friendly passers by, and eventually found and turned onto the forecourt of the vehicle hire company. Fee let out a long sigh as the van's engine died, and beside her her father sank back into his chair with a groan too. It had been a good trip, successful and fun, but enough was enough. They were done.

"You folks find anything out there?" a familiar voice asked as the driver's side door slid open without warning, and Fee looked past her father to see the overweight, balding figure of Howard Klee standing there, a broad, mercenary grin on his pudgy face. Fee had to stop herself smiling; if, as he claimed, Howard could smell money, then the odor coming from the back of the van should have had him drooling.

"Dust and rocks, Howard," her father replied sadly, clambering out of the van to shake the dealer's hand, and Fee smiled as she realized he was repeating her own words from earlier, "just dust and rocks." She knew her father didn't like lying, but there was no point risking having their prizes 'vanish' while he signed the return papers. Not that he was actually *lying*; they *had* found rocks. And not to say that Howard would ever dream of stealing from one of his customers, oh no; those charges had never been proved. But still. No need to poke Fate in the eye with a stick, as his mother had used to say.

After unloading the van they split up. As always Fee, being the more responsible and mature of the pair, was given the task of going through their belongings and checking for passports, visas, hotel reservations and other essentials, leaving her dad to follow Howard inside and complete the handover paperwork.

The bus station was, fortunately, just across the road from the hire car yard, and as she completed her inventory Fee looked up to see the Adelaide bus pulling into its bay. As it ground to a halt people began to drift towards it: backpackers, mothers and children, the usual.

Hanging back behind the main group, as if trying to stay out of sight, she noticed a teenage couple standing in the shadows, nervously checking their surroundings and the faces of the passers by, obviously on edge. She recognised the tell-tale body language of runaways, and felt sad. She could never imagine doing such a thing herself, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe that everyone's home life was as full of love as hers. No, they'd have reasons - theirs, no-one else's business. And certainly not hers.

She checked her watch, made a quick mental calculation. It was a half day's journey, so assuming the bus set off on time - in ten minutes - they wouldn't reach Adelaide until the early hours of the next morning. There would be no shops open then..

but that was okay; as much as she was looking forward to trawling around the market, the prospect of a long, hot, lazy shower (with the big bar of sandalwood soap she'd brought with

her, one of her few self-indulgencies) was much more appealing. Not that she'd ever admit that to her father -

"You all set?" he asked brightly, emerging from the office, clutching a sheaf of papers. She nodded, then cast a worried glance towards the bags and holdalls gathered around her feet. It was a lot of stuff, even though they'd made a special effort to travel light. The meteorite sample crate alone was too big for one person to carry. It looked innocent enough, like a cool box, and that was the idea; no point in drawing attention to their good fortune. But as Fee looked at it all she knew it was too much for them to carry even the short distance to the waiting bus.

But her father was ahead of her. "Be right back!" he shouted as he jogged across the street. But instead of going to the bus station as she expected he headed for a nearby grocery store, leaving her standing there, scratching her head. When he reappeared he was pushing one of the store's shopping trolleys, smiling at his own resourcefulness. "Perfect, don't you think?" he said, pulling up alongside her with the flourish of a stunt driver.

"Oh yeah," she laughed, starting to load it up with their bags, "we'll *really* blend in with that..!" But sarcasm apart, she had to admit that it was a good idea; the sample box slid neatly onto the shelf under the main body of the trolley. They would only have to make one trip.

Predictably, and justifiably, the driver complained loudly about the weight of their things as he heaved them into one of the bus's luggage holds, and at one point Fee had to stifle a giggle as he asked 'what on Earth' they had in the box, but eventually the meteorites were safely stowed away and the door slammed shut, sealing them in. While Fee bought the tickets, in charge of the money as always, her father made his way up the bus aisle and found them two seats together, near the back, close to the toilet and kitchen, the best place to be on such a long journey.

Beckoning her over to him he slid out of the way to let her have the window, as usual, and then collapsed into his seat, sighing as the jet of cool air from the overhead air conditioning nozzle washed over his face. He'd had enough of the Nullarbor.

Their next hunt, he'd already decided, would be somewhere cooler, somewhere less like hell.

The final pair of backpackers climbed onboard, Japanese or Chinese, Fee wasn't sure which, and took their seats, one behind the other so they could stretch out. With all his passengers accounted for the driver stabbed a finger at a red button, and the door closed with a pneumatic hiss. The bus trembled as its engine revved, once, twice, then it started to move, pulling out of the parking bay in a cloud of black fumes. Fee let her head fall back onto the cushions and closed her eyes. At last, we're on our way, she thought. Scotland - and rain - here I come.

The highway back to Adelaide was known as the Eyre Highway, and the map in the back of Fee's pocket guide showed it was one of the longest stretches of road on the continent. Looking at it on the chart, she thought it looked like one of the long Roman roads which criss-crossed the UK, only on a much larger scale.

According to the Lonely Planet's map, ther Eyre passed through, or by, a scattering of small, unremarkable towns on the southern edge of the country, so she settled back into her seat to enjoy the ride.

Because they'd traveled to Mundrabilla the first time by train, having previously flown in to Perth, she had been wary about taking her first bus trip in Australia; she'd heard and read plenty of horror stories about cross-continent coaches. But now she was on one it wasn't too bad. The air conditioning kept the bus cool, she had just about enough leg room, and the people around her weren't too noisy or, worse, too smelly. She'd survive.

The first hour passed uneventfully, and she settled down for the long haul, telling herself that whenever she felt her spirits sagging she would just have to remind herself that each mile covered was one mile less to go before that shower. And her soap.

Beside her, her father was lost in his book, eyes wide as he devoured the story unfolding on the page. Without even looking at the cover she knew it was another hi-tech thriller. "It's all very believable!" he had insisted the last time they'd argued about their different tastes, "these stories could really happen one day... Maybe they already *have* happened and we just don't know..." he'd added, tapping the side of his nose, prompting scornful laughter from her.

It wasn't just their obsession with weapons and killing that turned her off the books her father read, nor their endless pages of military gobbledegook and acronyms. No, it was the fact that they were based in reality, even if it was a twisted, gung ho Tom Clancy version of it. Reality was lousy.

She lived for science fiction and fantasy, preferred visiting their faerie kingdoms, riding their dragons and fighting battles with their foul monsters to confronting real life on paper as well as in the flesh. Why should she imagine tanks or submarines when she could close her eyes and be standing back to back with one of her heroic warriors or knights - preferably with deep, smouldering eyes and a mane of unruly dark hair! - facing, and overcoming, impossible odds?

No, he could keep his tanks and submarines, thank you very much.

The road was straight and flat, smooth to drive over, especially after the juddering terrain of the Nullarbor, but the to-and-fro rocking of the bus soon lulled Fee to sleep. She hadn't meant to sleep during the journey back, she knew that if she slept too much on the bus she wouldn't sleep back at the hotel, but she couldn't help it. So when she was woken by an urgent voice whispering her name and telling her to "look!" she was momentarily disoriented, and for the first few moments she thought she was still back at their camp out on the plain.

But one glance out the window proved that wasn't the case. There was water there. An ocean of the most perfect white-capped blue, stretching all the way to the horizon.

"Wha..?" she stammered, sitting up straighter. "Where are..?"

"Half-way to Adelaide, just passed a town called Smoky Bay" her father told her, "you've been asleep almost seven hours..."

Really? No, he was joking, surely! She felt like she'd just closed her eyes, not actually slept... but now she looked more closely at the world beyond her window she could see that the Sun was burning low in the west, close to setting, beneath a bank of low clouds which had boiled in from... somewhere. And her father had nearly finished his book. Hours *had* passed.

She must have gone out like a light.

"... and that," he said, nodding towards the window, is the Great Australian Bight."

She couldn't believe it, it was so beautiful she felt like crying. After days of absolute dryness, without even a glimpse of a river or stream, without feeling so much as a single drop of rain on her face, she was now confronted with a perfect ocean landscape of rolling waves and surging surf. Not only that, but while she slept the windows of the coach had been obviously opened, because a glorious breeze was blowing through it now, carrying with it the smells of salt and sand and grass...

The scent of the sea. How she loved that smell. There was nothing on Earth that could compare with it.

"It's beautiful..!" she breathed, face pressed against the window, "look at all that water!"

"Yes, I know," her father agreed, "see the guy over there?" he whispered, nodding across the aisle towards a tall man wearing headphones, singing away quietly to himself, "he told me that sometimes you can see whales breaching out there... " Fee's eyes lit up at that prospect. She'd always wanted to see a whale, and she turned her head quickly towards the window again, hoping - But her father shook his head. "Sorry, wrong time of year. Maybe next time..."

Fee nodded, disappointed, but not so disappointed that she was in a rush to come back for a second try. When she'd said that the desert had a beauty of its own she'd meant it, but seeing the cool, blue waters of the Bight stretching off seemingly to infinity had brought home to her just how much dust and dirt she'd lived in during the past few days. She'd never felt as hot and dirty in her life, and her stay in the Nullarbor had left her skin as dry and as fragile as parchment. No, whale-spotting could wait.

But she felt refreshed after her nap, so she decided to stay awake for the rest of the journey and see as much as possible.

The bus was a coastal tourer, serving the towns along the edge of the Bight, so instead of taking the shortcut cross-country, through the Pinkawillinie Conservation Park it stuck to the sharp v-shaped coastal road, down the Flinders Highway and then back up the Lincoln Highway. As her father dozed quietly, his head resting on her shoulder, she watched a truly beautiful sunset from the clifftops of Elliston, and as darkness fell stared out the window, watching one small coastal town after another slide past in a blur of streaked orange streetlights and shopfronts. It was hypnotising. Light... another light...

another light...

When she woke there were people getting up out of their seats all around her, grabbing backs from the overhead racks as they pulled on their coats and jackets, and she peered out the window to look for a clue to where they were. She expected to see a sign saying Port Augusta, the town where, according to their schedule, they were due to stop for fuel. But the board above the bus terminal building said "Welcome to Adelaide!" She shook her head in disbelief; she'd slept through almost the entire journey.

Beside her, her father, finally woken by the noise and activity around him, rubbed at his eyes. "Here?" he asked weakly, as disoriented as she had been earlier. She nodded. "Oh... okay," he said, accepting it without further observation or comment, "let's get going then." Then he hesitated, and patted at the front of his shirt. "My book!" he exclaimed, looking around him, "where's my book?"

Fee leaned over his lap, saw it on the floor halfway down the aisle, being trampled under dozens of feet. It must have fallen off his knee when he fell asleep. "Sorry, it's way downstream now," she said sympathetically, "you'll never catch it."

"But I want to know what happens!" he protested.

She sighed tolerantly. "There are lots of big explosions, the submarine gets back to the surface, the big ship sinks, the airplanes get shot out of the sky, the spies get betrayed, the President survives the assassination and the last soldier left alive waves the stars and stripes as the rescue helicopter comes for him," she said sarcastically. He started to protest again, but she fixed him with her Look. "Trust me," she said coldly. He wanted to say something clever in return, but couldn't for laughing. She was probably right.

They stepped down off the bus and the cold night air hit them so hard it made their eyes water. Because their things had been so heavy the driver had pushed them way to the back of the bay when stowing them, so while her father went off to track down a taxi Fee stood and watched everyone else retrieve their bags, rucksacks and suitcases. Some of their fellow passengers had been met by friends and relatives, greeted off the bus with hugs, kisses and shrieks of delight. Others were following their own private schedules, and vanished into the night to track down their hotel or guest house. Several stood underneath the station's floodlit timetable boards, glancing impatiently at their watches, obviously wondering where their welcoming party was.

The two runaways stood behind the bus in stunned silence, looking around them with wide, frightened eyes, lost, wondering what to do next.

A black taxi appeared out of the darkness and pulled up beside her, and as the doors opened to let her father and the driver climb out Fee turned away from the runaways, mentally wishing them luck, knowing they'd need it. It felt a little cold, but there was nothing she could do for them. They had to find their own path, just like everyone else.

It took all three of them to lift the sample case into the car, but eventually it and everything else was safely stowed in the trunk, and they left the bus station to its nocturnal occupants, heading north through the maze of city streets.

Up front, oblivious to the ungodly hour, the driver chatted way animatedly, as taxi drivers do, but Fee and her father were too tired for conversation, even after their long sleep, and by the time they drew up outside the inappropriately-named Mountain View Guest House they were dead on their feet. Fee gave the driver an extra tip for helping them into the lobby with their things, and then wished him goodnight, sinking down onto a couch beside a large tank full of tiny, brightly-colored fish.

Suddenly she was so tired it didn't seem real, the desert, the meteorites, the bus trip, any of it...

For once she was grateful for her father's optimism; he'd been so confident of finding something that he'd reserved ground floor accommodation, which meant they were able to wheel the meteorite box through the lobby and down the corridor on a small luggage trolley, without conquering any flights of stairs. Eventually the open door to their room appeared around a corner and they staggered inside, leaving the trolley against the wall as the door swung shut behind them.

Without even wishing each other goodnight they collapsed onto the bed, totally drained. And there Fee slept, undisturbed, for the rest of the night, too tired even to dream.

Let alone run a shower...