Still raining today. And hailing. We've stayed all day in the Galand's place, no way out, really, not without risk of exposure. On the plus side, the bikies won't be out and about, either. Played a lot of cards and other board games. Spoke to Zion and Flora.

"When this storm breaks, I think we'd better head off. I know I wanted to wait a bit to recover, but I think there'll be more storms. What do you think?"

"We'd like to stay here."

"Me, too. But there'll be more storms, until that big chunk of ice has properly melted. It might be years before the weather settles down again. And for the next few months, at least, the gangs will run Melbourne. They won't produce food, but they'll take it. I don't mind fighting, but is that any way for us to bring up our kids? Under siege, killing men who come to take what we've worked for?"

"That is true. But we would not kill," said Zion.

"Then you would die. Or your children. You'd starve after they stole your food, or be killed just for fun. Flora, did Zion tell you what he saw in that house? God forbid it should ever happen here."

Flora nodded. It seemed to me she was more the guiding influence of the home and its ways than was Zion, she was the stronger and more resolute personality. Everyone's a pacifist when no-one's attacking them, but if you threaten their children...

"Yes," she said, "We should leave this place. Take what we can, and leave. Build a new life in the hills, sheltered from this weather, and safe from these gangs."