The flooded earth

The last night Will and his father spent together was a very ordinary night--so ordinary you'd almost call it boring. Both of them were working--Spinner on a broken wind turbine, Will on the trucks of a skateboard--but the pace of the work was slow and relaxed. Songs from Spinner's distant youth played on the old reconditioned soundbox."C'mon," said Will, "we've listened to enough of your old-guy tracks. I want to put some good music on.""You wouldn't know good music if it sat up and bit you," Spinner said amiably.And it was then, just as Will was deciding whether to argue his case or just lunge for the controls, that there was an urgent beating on their front door."Who is it?" Spinner called. It was wiser not to open your door at night."Truman," came a voice. Truman was a pedicab rider who lived in the neighborhood.Spinner unbolted the door and Truman fell into the room, gasping as if he'd just run the race of his life. "They're coming," he blurted. Excerpted from The Flooded Earth by Mardi McConnochie All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.