'Normally the big road was alive with cars. Bill had never before seen it completely empty like this. Not a single vehicle to destroy the silence. Bill and his family were about to cross when Joe Campbell held a hand up to stop them. He must have heard the sound before Bill did, but after a few minutes of standing there at the edge of the road, Bill also heard it: a deep-throated rumble, like a far-off animal in distress. The noise got gradually louder, until, away to the east, Bill could see the truck approaching. At first it was barely visible, and seemed to be moving very slowly, but as it approached in a crescendo of sound Bill realized it was travelling at some speed. Not only that... he saw the immense road-train truck was careering along in a wild, zig-zag fashion like a great, wounded beast in its death throes.
Joe Campbell pulled his family away from the verge of the big road. The mighty truck, its engine roaring, was hurtling towards the aboriginal family as they stood back, still as the gum trees surrounding them. Suddenly it swerved in the opposite direction before jack-knifing and thundering off the other side the road. The truck and its first trailer rolled sideways, skidding over rocks and snapped trees, before coming to rest in a cloud of dust. The engine spat out gun-fire grunts then went silent. Its silence merged with the silence of the land. Just before the huge vehicle left the road Bill had caught a brief glimpse of the driver: a large white man, his face a deep purple, slumped lifeless across the steering wheel.' From: Kangaroo Dreaming, Lost Whispers, 2013