Life Goes On | Book 4 | If Not Us [Surviving The Evacuation] Tayell, Frank (classic books to read .TXT) 📖

negotiations on behalf of the Australian government with groups diplomatically described as rebels.

Elaina Slater, by contrast, wasn’t trying to be anyone other than herself: a twenty-five-year-old primary-school-teacher from Wagga Wagga whose gaze was alternating between a firing pin and the rifle which was otherwise reassembled.

Add in Zach, Dan Blaze, and Sophia Peresta, the former yoga teacher, who’d taken a bullet to the arm during the coup, and only one word could adequately describe her team: conscripts.

But they were loyal. Not just to Tess and the government in which Anna was now deputy prime minister, but to the notion of restoring a civilisation built on democracy, justice, and equality. Another descriptor could be given to them, and to her, and Anna, Mick, and even Oswald Owen: stubbornly over-optimistic.

“Did any ammo get shipped with these guns?” Tess asked.

“That’s in those crates by the bar,” Clyde said, gesturing to the corner of the room.

“Ammunition is like alibis,” Toppley said. “One can never have enough.”

“A dollar in the crim-jar,” Elaina said. “I think you mean that ammunition is like evidence. D’you know if any of the new factories are making more?”

“I know they’re prioritising canning, so we don’t waste any food,” Tess said. “And I know they hoped the conscripts would be equipped by the U.S. when they were dumped ashore in Mexico, but those were Lignatiev and Vaughn’s plans.”

“I’ll add ammo to the list,” Elaina said. “Clyde, happy Christmas.” She pushed the incorrectly assembled rifle towards him, and placed the pin on top, before taking out a notepad and pen.

“What list?” Tess asked.

“For Ms Nguyen,” Elaina said. “We’re writing down everything which might be forgotten, in case everyone else assumes someone is dealing with it.”

“Add a city-wide fire-crew,” Tess said. “And finish up because I’ve got a job for us all.”

The door opened, and Zach slouched in. “Wow. That’s a lot of guns.”

“Which aren’t toys,” Elaina said, her tone reflexively switching to teacherly-stern.

“Yeah, I know,” Zach said, just as reflexively subdued.

“What did you do with Mick?” Tess asked.

“He’s gone to quarantine to inspect the new arrivals,” Zach said. “They came from Mozambique. Perth sent them.”

“Perth’s ferrying people here?” Elaina asked.

Zach shrugged. “I guess.”

“What about the fire?” Tess asked.

“Oh, no worries. Mick sent the fire engine, and a couple of vans,” Zach said.

“Doctor Dodson,” Elaina corrected, and Tess couldn’t help but smile.

“What adventure did you have planned for us, Commissioner?” Toppley asked.

“Ms Dodson has given me a week to wrap up the investigation into the coup,” Tess said. “After that, I’m playing escort for those Canadian scientists.”

The door opened again. Sophia Peresta and Dan Blaze entered. Like the other conscripts, Sophia wore the requisitioned grey and black clothes-shop-camouflage they were calling a uniform. Unlike them, her arm was in a sling.

“Any trouble in quarantine?” Tess asked.

“Any zombies?” Zach added.

“Not yet, and they’ve been on that plane for twenty hours already,” Sophia said.

“From Mozambique?” Tess asked.

“Flew into Perth, and barely landed,” Sophia said. “They weren’t allowed off the plane, but were refuelled, and sent here.”

“Elaina, can I borrow that pen and notepad, thanks. Sophia, I’m allocating you as personal assistant to Anna Dodson. As long as she needs that wheelchair, there might be some very personal assistance for which I don’t think her SAS bodyguards were trained.”

“Like what?” Zach asked, puzzled. “Clyde said the diggers train for everything.”

“Dan, you’re on chair-pushing duty,” Tess added, raising her voice over Clyde’s snort of laughter. “Keep your rifle close, but your guitar closer. Over the next week, Anna’s doing a tour of the refugee camps. She’ll have soldiers for a bodyguard, but a bloke carrying a guitar will make her look less like a warlord. Everyone you meet will be desperate, hungry, and terrified. Singing a few songs to the kids might give people pause before they fling a brick.”

“How long will we be away?” Sophia asked. “I only saw my daughter for five minutes this entire last week.”

“She’s at the university?” Tess asked.

“At the crèche,” Sophia said. “My husband’s digging fields there. So is my mother, unless they’ve dug graves for one another by now. I know Alice is being looked after, but it’s just not the same, not when I know she’s so close.”

“Anna’s not leaving until tomorrow,” Tess said. “So you’ll have time to visit after you report in. There’s supposed to be a broadcasted session of parliament tonight where some state representatives and politicians returning from Hobart will be sworn in as a new parliament. They’ll give a speech blaming Sir Malcolm Baker, Erin Vaughn, and Ian Lignatiev for the coup, and acknowledge Oswald Owen as prime minister. You don’t need to be there for that. Anna will probably be away for a week, but when she gets back, things should be returning to normal.”

“Things are okay in Tasmania, then?” Clyde asked.

“Your husband’s there, yes?” Tess asked.

“And my son,” Clyde said.

“I’ve heard no bad things,” Tess said.

“Clyde could go there, couldn’t he?” Zach asked. “I mean, we just saved the world, didn’t we? He deserves a reward. Fair’s fair, right?”

“That’s not how the army works,” Clyde said. “Or the police. Or a society. We’ve got to help those nearby, and hope those near our dearest do the same.”

Tess held out the pen. “Write a letter, Clyde. I’ll ask Mick to make sure it’s on the next plane heading south. Maybe in a day or two, we can fly you down to pick them up. But first, we’ve got to close the chapter on the coup.”

“And find Sir Malcolm Baker, right?” Elaina asked.

“In a perfect world, yes,” Tess said. “Baker is our only lead. We know he was backing the coup in a bid to get his son-in-law, Aaron Bryce, into the number-one job. A month ago, we’d identify