It was a cold, clear morning as Max started up the tractor to warm the engine before he drove it to the silos. There he would start emptying the grain into the mixer so he could make the feed mix.

The cattle in the feedlot bellowed loudly and made their way over to the fence, knowing their feed would be there soon. A couple of them kicked their heels and pigrooted around the pen.

There was a mist coming down over the hills and everything was dewy to the touch.

The mixer was brand new—a Jaylor. His boss had told him that it was a leading machine in a variety of feed lot operations and he’d been working towards buying one for a couple of years.

‘It’s going to make the feed easier for the stock to digest. It delivers a much more consistent feed mix. That was the sales pitch anyway.’

Max was excited to be using it for the first time today. He felt it was a privilege to be the first. Getting out of the tractor, he walked around the machine to make sure there was nothing in its way and then checked the augers in the silos. It was much easier when you could pull up straight under the auger and get the barley into the machine.

Back in the tractor, Max threw the power takeoff shaft into gear and jumped out to check all the bearings and moving joints.

The sound of tearing steel made him spin around. As he did so, something flew out of the mixer and embedded itself in his skin. Letting out a scream, he ran towards the shed, blood streaming down his arm.

Zara’s phone rang. Tammy.

‘Hey, Zara, have you heard?’

‘Heard about what?’

‘Jantarna Feedlot. There was an accident there yesterday. I saw the cop cars as I was driving past. Thought you might want to do a little investigating.’

‘Really? Tell me more.’

‘I’m only putting two and two together, but I passed an ambulance on the way to town as I was coming home yesterday, then I saw a government car. I’m really not sure what’s happened, but I’m guessing there was an accident and WorkSafe have got involved.’

‘Oh no, I hope not. I hate it when people get hurt.’

‘I know—it’s like when I get an ambo call-out. I just hope it’s not going to be a local. It’s bad enough if it’s someone you don’t know, but if you know them and their family, it’s just about unbearable.’

‘I get what you mean. That’s small towns for you. Look, thanks for the heads-up. I’ll see what I can find out.’ She was about to hang up but remembered the silent protestors. ‘Have your friends left yet?’