Chapter 1

Dale Anderson was disorientated when he awoke.

He squinted at the bright light that was overhead, as he wondered where he was. He went to sit up when he felt a big hand touch his chest. It gently pushing him back down.

A familiar voice said, “G’day mate, welcome back to the land of the living.”

Dale peered in the direction of the voice. “Jake?” he inquired with a dry, scratchy voice that made him try to form saliva in his mouth to alleviate his condition.

“Yeah, mate. You had us all fucking worried for a while,” Jake Sandman answered as he picked up the cup with a straw in it from the side table. He popped the straw into Dale’s mouth and held it still as Dale gratefully took several small sips to wet his throat.

Dale lay back into the pillows as he tried to focus on the big man who sat back down beside the bed. Jake was in his late forties and over 183cm tall. His short-cropped predominantly dark-brown hair had acquired a salt and pepper look.

His face showed the evidence of years working out in the sun in his youth with crinkles around his eyes from squinting into the sun. While not as tanned any more, the Caucasian skin from his Irish heritage, highlighted the freckles that were still thick across his nose.

Jake’s large guts hung over the waistband of his pants and threatened to pop the lower buttons of his short-sleeved, white, dress shirt. The belly was the result of too many hours behind a desk in more recent years and eating camp food on one mine site or another.

“Where the fuck am I?” Dale asked, looking around with uncertainty.

“Brisbane Base Hospital, mate. Do you remember much about what happened to yah?” Jake asked.

“Happened?” Dale mumbled. ‘What happened?’ he thought as he tried to recollect his last thoughts and actions. “The bus? I was on the bus heading back to camp,” he said hazily. His head throbbed with him just trying to remember what had occurred to have him in the hospital.

“Yeah, a fucking haul truck cleaned you up. Marty told me you were up the front, behind the driver.”

Seeing the confusion on Dale’s face, Jake then explained that the plant operators had given the bus driver the go-ahead to proceed along the haul road, but there had been a communication breakdown. The haul truck company hadn’t called the operators to say that the trucks were back on the road. The drivers had been at a stop-work meeting concerning pay and conditions.

Dale had the privilege of being the most severely hurt when the haul truck sideswiped the work bus, and it had rolled over onto the passenger doors. Dale had been thrown into the stairwell that was opposite the seat he had occupied. He had smashed into the railing and the metal stairs as the bus rolled.

The bus didn’t have seatbelts. Their union had been asking for them to be put in the work bus but to no avail. As a result, Dale had been trapped. He had his hips busted during the rollover as well as getting a nasty concussion, a broken arm and other cuts and bruises.

Dale nodded as the memory came back to him. “I was half asleep. I don’t really remember much, a loud bang and then I was flying. After that is blank,” he replied. Jake nodded. “Anyone else hurt?” Dale asked with concern.

“Mostly cuts and bruises. Vic gotta busted leg, but he’ll be okay in a couple of months,” Jake said as he glanced down Dale’s body.

Dale also looked. “Oh, fuck! Just how bad am I?” Dale asked with anxiety.

He then noticed that his left arm was in a cast from his fingers and up to his elbow and it was throbbing softly. He was to learn that he also had seventeen stitches down the left side of his face near his jawline, which explained why his face hurt. His already knew that his guts ached, as did his head in several places and he felt battered and bruised.

‘What the fuck is with my hips and legs?’ he thought as realised that there was some sought of cage over his legs.

He tried wiggling his toes, but he couldn’t feel them move. He also realised he could feel his lower back on the bed but not from his arse down. He flipped the sheet back to find a contraption bolted to his hips and down his legs. A bandage hid a row of stitches on the inside of his left hip.

Chapter 2 »