They were facing the tail end of a jumbo, part of the Qantas museum. The facility seemed to be throwing up as much light as the rest of the town combined. It was about nine o'clock; there was barely any traffic. The airport's car park appeared empty, though at that distance it was hard to tell du...
Paint peeled from the shackâs fibro walls; rust stains dripped from the gutters like stale blood. A towel flapped like a threadbare flag on the verandah rail, the naked pole of a fishing rod next to it. Melanie tried to ignore a row of mounds in the lawn. The one at the right was fresh, an arched...