Kinglake-350 by Adrian Hyland

Kinglake-350 by Adrian Hyland

Author:Adrian Hyland
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781921834738
Publisher: Text Publishing
Published: 2011-07-31T14:00:00+00:00


Snapshot 2: A Martial Art

Tim Huggins is coming home from work in his 1970 HG Holden. He cruises through St Andrews at around 5.15, is troubled to see a police roadblock at Mittons Bridge.

He’s been worried about the smoke drifting in from the north. The radio says there’s a fire at Kilmore, but this looks a lot closer than that. He pulls over to speak to the sergeant in charge.

‘What’s the problem?’

‘Fire up on Jacksons Road.’

That’s, what? Four, maybe five kilometres to the north? ‘What about Kinglake?’

‘No, Kinglake’s still okay.’

‘I need to get back to my family.’

She waves him on, but his threat detector is ratcheted up a notch. His wife, Linda, and their two young children Aaron and Alexandra are at home. He narrows his eyes, accelerates away.

Huggins has spent a lifetime in situations that call for alertness of mind and awareness of risk. He’s an Australian tae kwon do champion, has been for five years in succession. He specialises in sports fighting and once reached the final four of the US Open.

‘Sport like that,’ he explains, ‘where you could get your head smashed in any moment, your nose broken, you develop a sense of danger.’

Seconds after leaving the roadblock, he sweeps round a blind corner at Wild Dog Creek Road and runs headlong into the fire.

‘What the hell?’ He reflexively plants his foot down and zooms through the flames. Being stuck behind an inferno with his family on the other side is something he will not allow to happen.

Interviewed over a cup of herbal tea in his office, where he edits Mountain Monthly, he expands. ‘The secret of martial arts is to see the threat coming—and to not be there when it does.’

He’ll have a hard time not being there when this one comes. He’s going to need every scintilla of the Zen mindfulness he’s developed over a lifetime’s practice to bring his family through the next few hours.

Huggins floors it up the mountain, just about cooks the motor. He’s worried when the temperature light comes on—visions of breaking down on the road swarm through his head. But the old HG holds true, as they tend to do. Twenty, maybe thirty cars pass him coming down the mountain. People are getting out of Kinglake, but do they know what they’re heading for? He flashes his lights and waves, does his best to warn them, but he can’t hang around.

Finally he swings up over the last ridge and flies through the town. He’s struck by the eerie silence: at this stage the CFA shed is open, empty; presumably the trucks have gone down to the fire.

Huggins’ home is a beautiful split-level mud-brick house he and Linda have been working away at for eight years. It’s nestled in thick bush less than a kilometre from the town centre.

When he pulls into the drive, the kids come running out to greet him, Linda close behind. She’s worried; there’ve been phone calls from the neighbours, troubling smoke clouds. The town is on edge.



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