THE CHASM 

By Tessa Harvey

    

    Dylan was very disbelieving. Stuff like that didn't happen. But people who still had some coverage were taking photos on their mobiles. In the photos, what was mostly invisible to the adults was clearly revealed. Tall beings with flaming swords were beating back the fire that had threatened to engulf them entirely a short while ago.

    Then his mobile suddenly rang. "Dylan, help me. I can't breathe." It was Ariella's voice, hoarse and very afraid.     

    "Where are you?" he called, frantic. "Home - can't get help." The voice faded - his phone was dead. "Help," he cried,  in his turn. "Please, has anyone a phone that's still got some charge?" Betty hobbled forward, leaning on her cane. She handed her phone to Dylan with unsteady hands. He knew emergency services were being stretched. Quickly he explained the urgency to a despatcher and gave Ariella's address. Finally, at last, he prayed.

    Ariella had been praying about the bushfires. She liked talking to God. A long time ago He had called an old man, Abraham "friend." But with great respect also.

    The day was waning, and smoke was being carried into her garden by the wind. It was full of ash and bits of debris. It felt choking. Ari had come to see her parents, but they were out somewhere. She came in off the back deck and closed all the doors and windows. She didn't feel too great. It had been so long since she had used her asthma inhalers, she couldn't remember where they were. Not the Ventolin. Not the steroid. She needed the toilet, then couldn't flush it. Her chest felt tight. She was gasping. Ari could not now remember the emergency number. She did know Dylan's number. She managed a few words, then vomited, which made her choke. She heard a siren and saw lights. A voice - "It's too late! She's blue!" It was dark now, and cold.