Page 44 of The Storm Boys Series Collection

“How did you find out about it?”

“I used to come out here as a kid. My dad would go hunting... well, what they’d call ethical culling. Pigs, buffalo, crocs. When colonies got diseases, or if they got too big or too close to humans. We’d ride in ATVs and helicopters. It was crazy fun.” I smiled at the memories. “We got to know the guides and the rangers over the years, so even when Dad stopped coming, I kept coming back every summer. But not for hunting.”

“Why did your dad stop?”

“They don’t do the culling anymore. Not like they used to. They move them on now. To different parts of the park and whatnot.”

He nodded. “That’s probably a good thing.”

“Yep. We know more now. About how the ecosystems work.”

He was quiet for a while then, watching the scenery, smiling at the birds and the occasional lizard or wallaby.

“Bet it feels a million miles away from Melbourne,” I said.

“I was just thinking this feels like Indonesia. Well, except for the wallabies back there.”

“We’re not far from the coast. About twenty kilometres as the crow flies. You’re closer to Indonesia than Melbourne, that’s for sure.”

He nodded again, only grabbing the grip bar a few more times before the track began to make a noticeable rise, and sure enough, after a few more minutes through the trees and grasses, we entered a clearing and up ahead was our camp.

Thebunker, as it was known, was no more than a brown tin shed when it was all closed up, and I tried not to smile at the look on Jeremiah’s face. “Behold, the Kakadu Hilton,” I said, pulling up beside the building and cutting the engine. “Let’s get it set up before you declare this to be regret number three.”

I climbed out of the Jeep and went straight for the front door. Jeremiah got out slowly, taking in his surroundings. The bunker itself was nothing fancy. It was literally a shed made of steel and concrete, hence the name. But it was built in the ’70s, had a concrete floor, a diesel generator for power, a small kitchenette, a pit toilet, and an outdoor shower. There was even a small solar panel for lights.

It was all I ever needed.

“What exactly needs setting up?” Jeremiah asked as I got the door open.

“Let me just check for any unwanted friends first.”

Jeremiah froze, his eyes wide.

I flipped the light switch and the overhead light buzzed and clicked a few times before it lit the room up in a yellow-orange glow. A few bugs and insects scurried and scampered, but nothin’ slithered.

Not yet, anyway.

I took the long-handled broom and poked and prodded, lifted lids, and then the thin mattress on the bed. I checked the exposed rafters, and I opened the few cupboards. The only thing that greeted me were spiders and dust bunnies. “All clear,” I yelled as I walked back out.

Jeremiah hadn’t moved an inch.

I withheld the laughter, but I did smile. “Come on, you can help me lift the sides.”

“The what?”

“The sides,” I said again. “They lift out and up, like wings.” I pointed to the side walls where he could now see the bolts. I slid the first bolt out and he did the other end. Then from inside the shed, we pushed the side wall out and up. Metal poles on the ends came down and held the wall up like an awning.

Then we did the other side, and the breeze blew straight through.

“Now that’s pretty cool,” he said, clearly impressed. He inspected the giant hinges and the crude welding. It was as sturdy and strong as anything I’d ever seen.

“Made in the ’70s, after Cyclone Tracy,” I explained. “When they could do shit like this without ten years of red tape and building codes. No way something like this would pass today. But it’s classed as an emergency shelter for cyclones, and after Tracy ripped through Darwin, they put a few of these up over the Top End.”

“I can see why it’s called the bunker.” He was frowning up at the long fluorescent light. “Why is the light orange?”

“Well, it’s technically yellow,” I amended. “Bugs aren’t attracted so much to it. If it was a bright white, we’d be swarmed.”

When he didn’t say anything, I looked over and, sure enough, he was now staring at the bed.

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