TWENTY-THREE
Incessant banging startled Phuong from a sound sleep and made her peer through her dust-caked windows in panic. A demon in a small boy's body grinned at her, drummed on her car one more time and skipped off happily at having raised hell. No one else was in sight, though the road trains she'd parked between had since left, and the sun was high in the sky. The roadhouse was open now, which meant she could get more fuel and be on her way. Driving this far made her car slurp fuel like fish drank water. Hundreds of kilometres every day until she reached her final destination. How much longer to go?
Which roadhouse was this? Phuong craned her neck to read the sign. Sandfire. If she'd read the map right, this was the last roadhouse before the turnoff to Broome. Some time this after
