Move over Lara Croft, there’s a new action hero in town!
When unseasonable weather hits the sunshine city of Brisbane, a freak typhoon terrorizes the citizens. It’s not just any typhoon though, it’s a snake typhoon! And the deadliest snakes in Australia, with venomous fangs are flying straight for Kez.
Kez is the new girl in the office and she’s desperately fighting to prove herself, but what’s a girl to do when faced with a typhoon of snakes coming straight for her helicopter?
These flying diabolical snakes will stop at nothing to kill their victims and Kez only has one option: Figure out how to stop a snake typhoon and save the world or die trying!
Snake Typhoon
Billie Jones
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2014
Copyright © Billie Jones 2014
Billie Jones asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © June 2014 ISBN: 9781472090959
Version date: 2018-09-20
BILLIE JONES
is a writer from Australia, who enjoys imagining herself wrestling killer crocodiles and swimming with great white sharks. She thinks she may have to attempt base jumping so she can write about it and Bungee is on the list too. You can find her either in front of her computer writing about her fictional adventures or at the beach searching for the next perfect wave.
Contents
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
For Roneski (AKA Mamma)
The gossip is impossible to believe, but I pack my backpack and ready myself to head to the airport. My office had been abuzz with the news of some kind of freak storm heading towards the Northern Territory and, wait for it, raining snakes. So far there was no footage, and no one really believed it, but when a call came in from someone high up in a secret government department, my boss’s mouth pinched tight like he was sucking lemons and, finally, I got the nod. I’m new to the team, in an office full of zoologists all vying for the top spot. I hope I can prove I’ve got the nous to head a mission, even one as crazy as this purportedly is. At least they’re taking it seriously enough that I’m going to fly in a chopper from Brisbane to the Red Centre. The snakes wanted to see Uluru, apparently.
Fresh out of university, and labelled the ‘new girl’, a few months in the field and I’m still the lackey. Getting flung from one snake-containment disaster to the next, to bring the crew coffee. It’s not fair, but I don’t complain. Let’s face it, it’s only a matter of time until someone picks up a snake the wrong way, and I’ll move up the hierarchy. Between us, I hope it’s Cindii, who started a day before me, which somehow translates to her flicking her glossy too-blonde hair in my face and acting superior. I mean, she started a mere twelve hours before me. And, to be honest, anyone who spells their name with two i’s like some kind of Barbie doll shouldn’t be handling snakes and cane toads, anyway. She might break a nail, or ruin the blood-red varnish she insists on wearing. She’s like Ranger Stacey on Botox.
I suit the job description much better. Long brown hair, always tied back in a ponytail for safety reasons, khaki shirt and shorts – regulation length, steel-capped boots, a smothering of sunscreen, and super-fit physique. Just as the manual stipulates. Cindii wears tight shorts and a teeny tiny singlet which leaves her well open to being the most likely to get bitten. She can’t run, or pivot, without hoiking the shorts from whichever crevice they creep in to, and in the heat of the moment when it’s us against snake, you simply don’t have time for shorts hoiking. You just don’t.
Shaking the vision of Cindii from my mind, I rush to the car, giving myself a silent pep talk. Secure the area, lead civilians to a safe place, contain flying snakes, save the world.
This time it won’t be my team that pushes their shiny faces in front of a TV camera to report that disaster has been averted. It will be me. If I stay focused, I can do this.
And let’s face it, raining snakes? Usually, there is some simple ecological reason for something extraordinary and I’ve no doubt it’s been exaggerated. Cindii said half the inhabitants of central Australia, the human ones, wake up with a beer in their hand, which they continue to drink like water throughout the day to deal with the unrelenting heat. She says it’s probably just a heatwave with the locals wearing beer goggles, and that can only mean one thing. A group of inebriated men standing over a colony of centipedes, claiming their, er, worm is biggest. But I won’t get anywhere with an attitude like that. If a secret government department says they need my help, then they’ll damn well get my help.
I gun the engine and pull out of my driveway. My rusty old car whines as I pop her from first to third. I don’t have time for second gear, it’s a waste of energy. And the car can cope with the extra revs. Smoke billows behind; I really must remember to get the old girl serviced. Even though my job seems glamorous – nice uniform, travel and the added bonus of snake-wrangling – it’s not really all that well-renumerated. I’d get more at a fast-food outlet. But you can’t put a price on passion, and I am passionate about my job.
Especially