7
Holly hung upside down from the ceiling that had once been the deck. Out the forward windscreen, the view offered some three meters of white sand. Nothing remained visible out any of the side windows. One escape window was immersed in the sand, the other in the center of a very prickly looking hedge cactus.
“Well, this must be Australian football rules. Too rough to be Association Footy.” Holly really would prefer to be in a soccer stadium seat at the moment. Ideally with a Four’N Twenty meat pie burning one hand and a twenty-five-ounce oil can of Foster’s lager cooling the other.
“Let’s not go out that way.”
Quint looked at his window, then back at her. “Seems like a half-decent suggestion.”
Very carefully, she tested her limbs.
Flexing her toes, she could feel them move inside he
