The riots were three blocks over and the power was cutting in and out, so she packed her camping gear and drove hard and fast out of the valley, leaving the smog and concrete behind.

In this line of work, you think about death every day. You have to. You sign the waivers and the non-disclosures, you take out the insurance policies and attend the procedural briefings. Every day is another opportunity to die. The risk is high. We signed on for this.

They watched the kid dig with manic intensity. The pile of dirt next to him had grown to maybe half his height. Some of the soil would tumble back into the hole with every frantic shovelful. The kid didn't care.

Halvar sheltered under the branches of an old willow tree, hidden from sight by a thick curtain of fronds that trailed the river’s surface.

Chains and ropes creaked on the other side of the great gate. Beyond, Grade could hear the sounds of life and livestock, mingling with the rain.

Elani sheltered under the branches of an old willow tree, hidden from sight, her aluminium canoe bobbing on the water.

The were called "The Good People". They turned up at the settlement every six months, near as Arch could tell.

He sat in the hide and watched the rain fall.