The guy shrugged.‘You locals?’
‘I’ve only been here a few months,’ Amara piped in.And if Porter wanted her to play dumb, she’d do it.‘Sorry, don’t know the roads.And obviously mud maps made by men.’
That made the two men chuckle.
‘And you are?’she asked.
‘Siri, they call me.’His grin just wasn’t right.
‘Logan and Amara.’Porter shook the man’s hand.‘We’d sure appreciate a tug and then point us in the direction back to the main road.’
‘Not locals, eh, coz none of ‘em would bother with a Land Rover like that one.Not out ‘ere they wouldn’t.’Siri shifted a few tin buckets and a pickaxe to drag a shovel out from the back of the ute, along with some rope.
‘Like I said, I’ve only been here a few months.’Amara tried to sound casual.‘But I’ll be looking at getting a more suitable vehicle for the future.’
‘Yeah, looks are deceiving out here.Lots of secrets get buried under this ’ere bulldust.’He gave a tight grin, tapping the doorframe with a calloused knuckle.‘Some call it the Devil’s Flour, others the Outback Quicksand, or just straight-up Dust Trap.Looks harmless—but one wrong step and it’ll swallow a whole cow or a car.Done it before.’
His gaze shifted towards her back seat.The South Australia Police logo was splashed across her work bag, half-covered by her raincoat.But not enough to hide it.
He stepped forward, his neck stretching for that better look.‘That your bag, miss?’
Amara’s mouth dried.‘Yeah, work stuff.’
‘What kinda work?’
Porter butted in.‘Admin.Mining logistics.We get them free bags from the mining shows all the time.Handy, you know.’
The man’s smile didn’t move, but his eyes turned ice cold.‘Right.’He hoisted the heavy tow rope over his shoulder.‘Tell you what… let’s get you outta that hole.’
Siri headed for the rear of the Land Rover.‘How about you and your pretty dress get back in the car and put that AC on to make yourself comfortable.When your husband taps on the roof, I’ll pull you in reverse.I might need you to hit that brake pedal when you get out, eh?’
‘Sounds good.’Amara gathered her skirts, picking her way through the soft, powdered soil that sank up to her knees, where each step was like wading through flour.
The car was holding—for now.Somehow, its width was keeping it up, like a playing card floating on powdered sugar.She just had to hope the crust held.Still, it was awful, having to dig open her driver’s door.
‘I’ll give you a hand with the rope,’ Porter offered.
‘You sure, mate?You’ll get that suit all mucked up.’
‘I’m already dirty.And dirt doesn’t bother me—not out here.’
‘Sounds like something a local would say.’
‘I’m learning,’ he said, sharing a quick grin.
Amara climbed into the driver’s seat, pushing more of that dust away from the bottom of the door to close it.Her arms ached from digging.
She clipped the torch to the dash, started the car and flicked on the lights to help the men see the back, and left the engine idling.The cool air from the vents was a relief.She took a drink from her water bottle that lived in her car, as her eyes flicked between the mirrors, waiting for instructions.
She pressed the button to lower the window and immediately regretted it.The glass groaned against the frame, grinding like it had swallowed a mouthful of grit, as a high-pitched screech tore through the cabin as metal dragged against dust-clogged rubber.Rushing inside, the acrid tang of hot dust, like sunbaked rust and scorched eucalyptus, hit the back of her throat.
‘Hell’s bells.’Jabbing at the button to send the window back up.It shuddered as it sealed, leaving a thin red trail in its wake.
This was going to cost a fortune.Every seal, every trim, the entire interior ruined by fine red powder that had gotten into everything.It was worse than water, where it didn’t just settle—it invaded.
In the rear-view mirror, two figures moved.It was Porter and Siri, crouched at the back of her car, digging out to hook the rope underneath.She heard metal clink.A muffled laugh.
Then… nothing.
