"That was bloody awesome," I exclaimed, slapping Paul a high-five as we met at the front of the dust-covered ute.

"Apart from clogging the engine!" Paul laughed, his face beaming with excitement.

I grinned back at him, the rush of adrenaline still coursing through my veins. "Come on," I said, giving Paul an encouraging glance. "You gotta admit, even that was fun."

Before our playful banter could continue, Glenda's voice cut through the air, interrupting our camaraderie. "We have two new guests," she announced, her tone holding a hint of reservation.

My head swivelled in Glenda's direction, curiosity piqued. Standing before us were a tall, lanky woman and a short, frumpy man. Their presence felt both familiar and foreign, like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.

"I wouldn't call them guests," said Jamie from where he stood at the edge of the tent’s canopy. "They're not going anywhere."

My uncle's words sent my stomach lurching. I didn’t need to be reminded about my fiancée and unborn child, and the likelihood that I was never going to be going home to them.

“I’m Paul,” said Paul, walking toward the couple with a welcoming smile. He extended his hand to the man, Chris Owen, who firmly shook it.

“Chris Owen,” the thin-haired man replied, gripping Paul’s hand. “And this is my wife, Karen.”

“Kain,” I said, following Paul’s lead, and offering my hand. “Jamie’s nephew.” As I approached, I couldn't shake the uneasiness that crept up within me. The mention of my uncle reminded me of the family I had left behind. It was another painful reminder that home, as I once knew it, was slipping further away.

“I see you’ve met Jamie,” Paul said, motioning towards my uncle, who stood stoically at the edge of the tent's canopy. Henri, the ever-loyal dog, was by his side, looking both wary and intrigued by the newcomers.

Karen, the woman, nodded. "We've only just met him," she replied. "But Luke has told us a lot about him over the years."

My mind churned with questions, but the weight of my own internal turmoil kept me at a distance. Slowly, I began inching towards my ute, finding solace in its familiar presence amidst the uncertainty.

“Us?” Chris interjected, his forehead wrinkling with confusion. "I've never heard his name before."

Karen turned to her husband, correcting him gently. "Not you, darling. Jane," she clarified, leaving me puzzled about who Jane could be.

Paul chimed in, breaking the tension. "Ah, Jane. You must be one of Luke's bus friends," he said with a chuckle.

"Bus friends?" I muttered under my breath, my skepticism shining through. I couldn't help but scoff at the notion of Luke having bus friends. It sounded absurd to me.

Karen shared my perplexity, her confusion mirroring my own. "Yes," she replied simply.

Turning to Chris, I couldn't suppress my curiosity any longer. "But where is Luke?" I asked, realising that their presence was likely due to him, yet he was conspicuously absent. I looked to Chris, hoping for some answers.

“He’s not here,” Karen responded on behalf of her husband. The cryptic response only deepened the mystery surrounding Luke's whereabouts.

Glenda's voice broke the silence, her disappointment evident. "Appears this was another accident," she said, her shoulders slumping slightly.

A bitter taste filled my mouth as I muttered, "Figures." After my own chaotic arrival in this place, another 'accident' seemed to be the norm.

Paul seized the opportunity to redirect the conversation, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Not to be rude, but what do you actually do?" he asked, addressing the couple.

Karen's face beamed with pride as she responded, "I'm an entomologist."

Paul's confusion was apparent as he asked, "A what?"

"She studies bugs," I interjected, trying to simplify Karen's profession, although I wasn't sure how I knew that piece of information.

Karen shot me a glare, correcting me sternly. "Insects. Not bugs."

I could feel my cheeks redden with embarrassment under her scrutiny, feeling like a scolded child. "Insects," I muttered, my gaze shifting downward, avoiding further eye contact.

Unfazed by my reaction, Karen continued, her words flowing effortlessly. "Insects need an environment to thrive. I work with the University of Tasmania to understand how they contribute to ecosystems and collaborate with local communities and environmental groups to advocate for greater protections."

Paul's enthusiasm broke through the awkwardness. "That's great!" he exclaimed, genuinely impressed by Karen's work. He then turned to Chris, urging him to share his occupation.

"I do yard work," he replied calmly, leaving us all puzzled.

"Yard work?" I asked, struggling to comprehend his role. Is he a gardener or involved in general maintenance?

Chris crouched down and silently scooped a handful of dust.

“It’s everywhere!” exclaimed Paul, a little too excitedly for my liking, as though he was almost happy with it.

Chris let the dust slip through his fingers, his demeanour composed. "Yeah, I've noticed that," he replied, unperturbed. Looking up at Karen, he added, "But if this is our home now, we'll find a way."

I stared at the couple, a mix of confusion and admiration brewing within me. Chris hadn't elaborated on his interpretation of yard work, and their calm acceptance of this new environment seemed unnaturally serene. Have they been here before? The thought lingered in my mind, seeming both impossible and plausible at the same time.

"Call me crazy," Karen said, a smile illuminating her face as she glanced at her husband. "But I trust Luke."

Jamie's scoff pierced the air, his sneer conveying his disbelief. My shoulders slumped, a sense of melancholy settling within me. I found myself leaning towards my uncle's skepticism rather than Paul's optimism. In a world of uncertainty, their unwavering acceptance felt foreign to me.

Karen stood her ground, a radiant glow enveloping her face. Her words flowed with an effortless grace. "A beautiful masterpiece starts with a single brushstroke. This is our blank canvas. Let's create a masterpiece. Together."

A heavy silence descended upon the camp, and I could hear the faint call of my ute, its comforting interior beckoning me. But despite the pull, my feet refused to budge, and I remained rooted to the ochre ground, lost in contemplation.

"I better check-in with Joel," Jamie finally broke the silence, his departure casting a fleeting shadow over our gathering. "Nice to meet you both," he said with a light wave before retreating into the tent.

Curiosity piqued within me as I heard Karen's questioning voice. "Joel?" she asked, her brow furrowing with curiosity.

Glenda provided an answer, her voice tinged with concern. "Jamie's son."

"He's not been well," Paul quickly interjected, casting a meaningful glance at Glenda. "I'm sure he'll be fine after a few days' rest."

I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at the understatement. Joel was grappling with a much deeper battle, one that extended beyond mere physical health. The poor boy was struggling to discern his own existence in this newfound reality.

"Yes," Glenda agreed, her voice filled with empathy as she returned Paul's sideways glance. "Perhaps you and Kain would be best moving back into the tent for a short time," she suggested, nodding towards the shelter where Jamie and Joel resided.

My heart sank at the thought. While I appreciated my uncle's presence, I was relieved when Paul informed me that we would be moving out. I had embarrassed myself in front of my uncle, exposing a part of me that shattered my youthful innocence. I doubt he will ever see me the same way again.

Paul's eyes lit up with an idea. "We have another tent," he exclaimed, gesturing towards the ute.

Of course! What an idiot I am!

“Brilliant!” cried Glenda.

Eager to keep moving, I lifted the first of the tent boxes from the back of the ute. Red dust swirled in the air as I gave the top a rough blow, trying to free it from the clinging particles.

Chris, seemingly ready to lend a hand, took the box from me. "Here, let me take that," he offered.

"Thanks," I replied, grateful for the assistance.

"Looks like they got a little dusty," I commented, a wry smile gracing my lips as I handed Karen another box.

"Thanks," she said, her gaze lingering on me for a moment before she joined her husband.

Paul gathered the final box, and I felt a sense of urgency building within me. "I'm going back to the Drop Zone for the concrete," I announced, finally opening the door of the ute.

"Hold up," Paul interjected, almost dropping the box in his haste to grab my arm.

Confusion washed over me. "What?" I asked, pulling my arm free from his grip. "If we want these sheds up, we have to get this concrete poured asap."

Frowning, Paul stared at me for a moment. "Five to seven days?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

"Five to seven days," I confirmed with a nod. "Although, if we keep getting these cloudless skies, we might get away with four."

Glenda looked at us quizzically, leaning against the roof of the ute on the opposite side. "What's five to seven days?" she inquired.

"We have to let the concrete... rest," Paul explained.

"Ahh," Glenda nodded, understanding dawning upon her. "That makes sense."

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I witnessed Paul's realisation that even Glenda grasped the basics of concrete pouring.

Glenda shifted the conversation, her gaze filled with anticipation. "How many sheds are we talking about?"

Uncertain, I raked my memory, searching for the details amidst the jumble of supplies at the Drop Zone. "Not sure. I'll check how many Luke's left us," I replied, hoping that the mention of the Drop Zone would hasten our departure.

Paul chimed in, his enthusiasm evident. "We may as well do as many slabs for the concrete we have," he suggested. His eyes scanned the dusty landscape. "I don't think we can have too much storage and protection here."

Glenda's words echoed Paul's sentiment. "And Luke can always bring us more sheds."

Nodding in agreement, I felt a surge of determination. "I'll bring all the concrete supplies we have," I declared, quickly climbing into the front seat of the ute.

"I'll come with you," Paul offered, moving towards the passenger side.

A desire for solitude welled up within me. "No offence, but maybe you'd be better off helping Glenda with the new tent," I suggested, hoping to savour some moments of introspection during my trip to the Drop Zone.

"Chris and I can help," Karen chimed in, appearing beside us after spending a few moments alone by their new tent site. "We're used to camping on our short trips. Shouldn't take too long."

"That'd be great," Glenda agreed, her smile warm.

"Okay," Paul relented, shrugging his shoulders. "So what am I doing now?"

My mind screamed, Not coming with me, but I held my breath, waiting for someone else to fill the void.

"You're helping us put up the tent," Glenda answered, patting Paul on the shoulder.

I released the breath I had been holding, relief washing over me. The engine roared to life, and a wide smile spread across my face.

"Great. Let's get to it!" Paul exclaimed, moving towards the pile of boxes.

As the ute vanished over the crest of the hill, I revelled in the sense of solitude. The faster I drove, the less the wheels struggled against the endless battle with the dust. Yet, no matter the speed, fine particles found their way into every corner of the air, forever blurring the boundaries between clean and dusty.

Another bead of sweat trickled into my eyes as Uncle Jamie and I meticulously ran the screed over the freshly poured concrete slab for the sheds. With Glenda lending her assistance, our progress was steady, and her growing enthusiasm for learning became infectious.

Curiously, I asked Glenda, who squatted beside me, "What do you think of them?"

Glenda scanned the levelled surface before responding, "It looks mostly even. Maybe a bit more over there," she pointed to uncle Jamie's end.

A soft chuckle escaped my lips. "I meant the new people."

Glenda turned her gaze towards the direction Karen and her husband had disappeared. They seemed to have followed the trail of fertile soil, leaving camp in their wake.

"They are well-educated, especially Karen. I can understand why Luke brought them here," Glenda shared her thoughts.

"You really think that..." I began before our conversation was interrupted by the sound of an excited dog barking. I looked at Glenda in surprise, but she seemed to recognise the distinct bark that was definitely not Duke or Henri.

Rising to her feet, Glenda exclaimed, "Lois!" She jogged towards the gorgeous golden retriever bounding into camp from behind the nearest hill.

I glanced at my uncle, who sat back on his hunches, his hands dirty from the concrete. "Not another fucking dog," he muttered, just loud enough for me to hear.

"Lois, down!" Glenda instructed, redirecting my attention as Lois energetically jumped up at Joel, who emerged from the tent accompanied by Duke and Henri.

A chuckle escaped my lips as I observed the interaction between the dog trio. Duke approached cautiously, circling around Lois while sniffing curiously. Suddenly, Lois jumped backward in surprise, tail wagging excitedly. Tail down, Henri quickly sought refuge inside the tent, presumably retreating to his bed, where he spent most of his time.

Approaching the group, Lois continued her playful antics, while Duke maintained a careful assessment of her.

"We need a road," Paul announced, trudging down the final slope into camp.

Lois left the company of Duke and Joel and bounded toward Paul, her tail wagging incessantly.

With deft reflexes, Glenda caught the keys that Paul tossed her way before he crouched down to give Lois a friendly ear scratch.

"Wait, my car's here?" Glenda asked, holding up the keys, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Yeah," replied Paul, still engrossed in petting Lois. "It got bogged just over the hill."

A smile played at the corners of my mouth. "We definitely need a road," I remarked, assuming Paul would see the humour in the situation. Two dust-covered cars in such a short time...

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you," Paul retorted sternly. "You wanna be the one to collect the stuff from the car or dig it out of the dust?"

My face tightened, caught off guard by Paul's unexpected seriousness.

"Honestly," huffed Glenda, frustration evident in her voice, "this camp is like living with a bunch of children sometimes." With that, she began walking in the direction Paul had pointed, Lois and Duke following obediently behind her.

Uncle Jamie playfully nudged me. "I don't think she has any children," he jested.

"I heard that!" Glenda's voice carried from a distance as she continued her march.

As the BMW came into view, my spirits lifted. The car's once-charcoal colour was barely visible beneath the ochre dust, but the sight brought a comforting familiarity from the world I had been torn away from.

"Fuck! You've done a good job, Paul," Uncle Jamie commented, crouching beside the buried back wheel.

"It all happened so quickly," Paul replied.

"I bet it did," Uncle Jamie chuckled, his candid nature shining through.

I joined in the laughter. Uncle Jamie never minced his words.

"You're not staying, Paul?" Glenda called out as he began to walk towards the Portal.

Paul paused, his attention still on Lois. "I don't think Luke's done yet," he dryly replied before resuming his stride.

"Think we can dig it out?" I asked, crouching beside Uncle Jamie, running my hands along the rim of the wheel.

"Not with our hands," Uncle Jamie answered, demonstrating the impracticality of such an attempt.

"Shovels, then?" I suggested.

Uncle Jamie took a deep breath. "A shovel might work. It's probably the best we can do."

"I'll go grab them."

"Hold on," Uncle Jamie said, grabbing my arm as I made an effort to stand. "Go check the Drop Zone first. The shovels we've been using are covered in cement. It might make it a little more challenging for us."

"Sure," I replied, nodding quickly as I rose to my feet.

As I trudged along the increasingly familiar path to the Drop Zone, a mirage briefly shimmered before my eyes, conjuring the image of a sprawling civilisation rising from the ochre dust. I shrugged off the illusion, attributing it to the heat. Uncle Jamie was right—this camp is only temporary. We will find a way back home.