Wattys Shortlist 2022 -
When she isn't looking, they call her the Princess of the Ghouls, but they haven't seen the assassination order on her secret identity: viper.
Stuck in Lake Darling, ruled by her father's gang, Vi has one objective... run awa...
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Ghoul Territory – Eastern Border
LAKE DARLING RESERVOIR, NEW SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA-[2071]: 22 YEARS POST BOMBING
AUGUST 17 (Present Day) - Late Winter
...
Mist rolls between the maze of skyscrapers, crawling through broken windows and twisting around the threadbare linen that hangs over Orient Road. The black night is stained by the impervious glow of the moon, spying through every rib and vertebrae of the old cityscape. These buildings are the bones of giants, where starving families have sought refuge from the criminals who own the streets.
We watch from the shade of Carson Alley with boots planted on tar. Orient Road is stocked to the brim with dilapidated shacks. As the night crawls across the sky, irregular and cruel spotlights of moonshine shoot down through the wreck above.
The skyscraper fell in the bombs, and now it lies between the rest of the rotting buildings.
It's called A.N.Z. Wreck because the building belonged to a bank before the war, before the plagues. When I was a kid, I liked the idea that it was just a colossal cigarette butt that the gods flicked at us... like I said, I was a kid. I should've known that Gods don't exist.
Not in a city like ours.
Scorpius leans against the wall beside me, observing the night. He flicks his cigarette butt.
The spent filter flitters across the clearing, shooting embers into the otherwise stagnant air before it falls short by a long shot. A puddle of piss and mud swallows it and the water ripples, disturbing the reflection of the peaceful wreck. It shudders, threatening to fall.
His cigarette butt swirls across the surface in a spiral.
"Wolf is in, says he's fucking with their tech but to give it a minute before we move," Scorpius remarks, trawling his phone. "Can you see if they're leaving yet?"
"Yeah, two guys out of six," I watch as the gangers unpack the goods, two of them splitting off. Score notices as I scour the Duncan's Security database one last time like I'll somehow find a random patrol scheduled to this road.
"I helped Dex recode Duncan's patrol map myself. This road is blacked out." He reassures, squinting slightly, "I got Sphynx to help too." Sphynx is the kind of Manic that makes him a genius, despite his other shortcomings. "If you got cold feet, then we can tap out. No questions."
