With nowhere to go other than forward, the firefighters departed from a ravaged village in the outskirts of Western Australia, kilometres away from the state capital of Perth. Many traumatised civilians – albeit fortunate enough to survive the raging inferno, were forced to feast their eyes upon the wisps of smoke and embers floating around the village. Small houses were reduced to rubble, the victims left behind had either been burned alive, suffocated or crushed under the imploded debris.

For as long as Charlie was confined in the truck, consoling the band of survivors he rescued, all he could hear was the sirens wailing and radio communications; he was shit out of luck to be listening to his favourite songs. Even then, he'd be depleted of oxygen; it was like the world he witnessed through the window had collapsed from Armageddon. The skies were orange, the clouds a depressing pitch black as the ashes emerged from each corner of the earth.

“Mum...” a little girl whimpered, curled up against her mother, clutching onto a teddy bear that Charlie had retrieved for her, “...where will we go? Will we be ok?”

“I don't know yet, darling...” the mother responded, not even enduring to sniffle. They were both crammed in the back with a firefighter, their unknown hero. From the time emergency arrived, it was a long, excruciating drive back from Hell

© Shin Shady