Thunderbang
by Iris Foster

Jack and Paul sought the cool shade under the gum trees, the cattle rested around the waterhole, recovering from their trip across the hot, treeless plain. The two men yarned over a mug of tea, brewed in the quart pot. While they swopped stories, Jack related the chilling experience he had whilst a young man. He had damaged his hand while grappling with a bull calf. His wound had become infected and he needed help for it. The nearest homestead was avoided by everyone as callers were not made welcome. Welcome or not, he needed help and soon.
Stepping onto the boarded veranda, boots clattering, he stopped horrified, he felt a cold sweat break out over his body. Could he be hallucinating? Frozen where he stood, he slowly became aware of an old lady emerging through the door, holding both arms towards him. Pleadingly. Then she wept.

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