The start of the end of the world should be a pretty hard thing to miss. But in a peaceful Australian paddock, under a moonlit sky, four friends on a camping trip were giving it their best shot.

Two tents were pitched side by side. From one came the sound of static.

Her expression tired but resigned, Cora rolled over and regarded the other occupant of her tent. "Max, I'm trying to sleep."

"Sorry, won't be long. I just need to check the cricket score and I can't get a signal on my phone." Max took his cricket very seriously.

Cora could probably have cared less about cricket, but only with a significant effort. Sleep, on the other hand, was something she currently felt very strongly about. "One minute," she muttered, pulling her sleeping-bag over her head. "If you're going to drag me out here to the middle of nowhere, and make me fish all day, then the least you can do is not keep me awake all night."

"It's weird," said Max, frowning as he delicately adjusted a dial. "Every time I find a station it keeps fading away." Reception in their isolated location was invariably poor, but usually provided at least a couple of stations. And this being Australia, there was generally somebody talking about the cricket.

The radio crackled and hissed and then, out of the static, a voice emerged. "—defence forces have been overwhelmed. Parliament house has been destroyed and the prime minister is unaccounted for. Attacks have also been reported in Washington, London, Paris, Beijing and—" The voice faded and disappeared back into white noise.

Wide-eyed, Cora's head re-emerged from the sleeping-bag. "Can you get that station back?"

"I'm trying."

A different voice cut through the static. "—know where they came from! Big boxes just floating in the sky and then these things starting coming out and shooting—" Once again, the voice died away.

Cora sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. "What on Earth is going on?"

"Don't know, but it sure as hell doesn't sound good." Max hunted for another station, but when his continued efforts were in vain, he gave up and switched the radio off. "I'm going to wake up Cam and Mel. Maybe their radio can get a decent signal."

Unzipping the entrance to the tent, Max stepped outside, but when Cora tried to follow, she found her way blocked by his legs.

"Hey, move it."

Slowly, Max stepped aside. "Cora," he breathed, "you've got to see this."

"See what?" Slipping out of the tent, she stood beside Max—and then, looked up. "Whoa..."

Overhead, the night sky was ablaze. Silent trails of fire streaked in all directions across the firmament, bathing the countryside around them in flickering golden light.

"Max, what is this? I've never seen anything like it."

The unearthly light revealed the wonder on Max's upturned face. "That makes two of us. I think this camping trip is over—we need to head for home and find out what's going on."

Expression serious, Cora nodded. "No arguments here. We need some answers." She ducked slightly, as a particularly bright streak of fire flamed across the sky, directly above them. "And I want a roof over my head."

Max strode over to the other tent pitched a few metres from their own, and scratched on the canvas. "Hey, guys." There was no response. "Guys," he repeated, raising his voice a little. "Time to wake up. We need to talk."

Muted rustling came from within the tent, followed by a sleepy voice. "Mate, I don't care what the cricket score was. We can talk about it in the morning."

"Cam, this is not about the cricket. You and Mel need to get out here."

There was a pause. "And it's definitely not about the cricket?"

"Yes, you idiot."

"Yes, it's not or yes, it is?"

"Cam! This is not about the bloody cricket! Right now, I don't give a rat's testicles about the cricket! Get your arse out here!"

Cam was so shocked by this statement that he was moving before he even realised it. Anything that made Max rank cricket lower than rodent genitalia had to be serious.

His disheveled head emerged from the tent's entrance. "Mate, this had better be—"

Not many things could make Cam stop talking mid-sentence. Apparently, the dazzling light show overhead was one.

"What the hell..."

"Exactly," replied Max. "Wake up Mel and get packing, dude. We need to head back to town, to find out what's happening."

Blinking sleepily, Cam emerged from the tent and slowly spun around, taking in the spectacle that surrounded them. "This leaves New Year's Eve for dead. It's like the end of the world or something."

"Judging by the stuff we just heard on the radio, you might not be too far off."

Another voice emerged from the tent. "If you losers don't shut up and let me sleep, it's going to be the end of your world."

Cam's face took on an anxious look. "Er—Mel, honey. I think maybe you'd better come out of the tent."

There was a pregnant silence. The streaks of fire continued overhead. Crickets chirped. Cam began to wonder whether he should be more worried about the fireballs, or Mel's silence. Or more precisely, the end of the silence, whenever it might come.

It came.

"You think I'd better come out of the tent? You think I'd better come out of the tent? Do you want to know what I think?"

Cam assumed this to be a rhetorical question, at least until the silence that followed became pregnant again. Possibly this time with twins.

"Um, of course, honey." He looked despairingly at Max, who smiled the relieved smile of a person who knew they were not required to take any part in this conversation. "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" replied Mel, sweetly. "What do I think? Do you really want to know?" The sweetness vanished. "I think you don't really want to know what I think! You might think you want to know what I think or you might think that I should think that you think you want to know what I think but I don't think you know what I think and I don't think you even want to know what I think! But I'm going to tell you anyway! I think that I am sleep-deprived and coffee-deprived and patience-deprived and tonight I am going to get some sleep and tomorrow I am going to get some coffee and if you're a very, very, lucky little man I might also get some patience, because right now I have none and let me make it very clear for you that there is not a thing on this planet or off it that is going to make me get out of this tent, so kindly just SHUT THE HELL UP!" There was a pause, presumably for a breath. "And stop whistling!"

Cam and Max looked at each other. Neither were whistling. Yet now in the post-rant silence they could both very distinctly hear a whistling sound. They glanced over at Cora. No whistling there, either. Slowly, they all looked up.

The fireballs continued to streak overhead. All except for one. One fireball hung motionless in the sky above them. Motionless, but not unchanging. The fireball grew. And as it grew, the whistling sound became louder. And louder.

"Er, guys," said Max, staring fixedly up at the flaming orb . "I really think we need to get out of here. Really, really. Like now. Like yesterday." He started edging away from the tents, and in the direction of the two cars parked at the edge of the clearing. "C'mon, Cora. Cam, I don't know how you're going to do it, but you need to get Mel up and moving."

The fireball now lit up the clearing like a mini-sun, and Cora had to raise her voice to be heard above the whistling. "It's coming in too fast Max, there's no time for the cars. Everybody down!"

She dived for the ground and wrapped her arms around her head, and Max and Cam followed suit, as the whistling became a roar and the fireball slammed into the space between their two cars, sending them both somersaulting in opposite directions. The blast wave washed over them in a maelstrom of heat, noise and dirt.

Gradually, the noise subsided. Three groggy, dirt-encrusted heads were raised up. Cam blinked, wiped his eyes and looked towards his tent. It was gone. He staggered to his feet and stared at the patch of tumbled earth where it had been. "Mel!"

Max and Cora both unsteadily regained their feet. Wiping his face, and brushing the dirt off his clothes, Max looked around the clearing. His tent was gone, as well. Smoke rose from the area where the fireball had hit, and his car lay on its roof, several metres from the point of impact. Of Cam and Mel's car, there was no trace. The waters of the river were choppy from the blast wave, and bobbing up and down among the wavelets were two objects, indistinct in the light of the moon and the fireballs that still streaked overhead. He tapped Cam's shoulder and pointed. "Mate, I think those might be the tents." He began to take off his shoes. "Come on."

Cam looked in the indicated direction and blinked groggily. "Huh?" Realisation dawned. "Mel! I'm coming baby!" He ripped off his T-shirt and attempted to remove one leg from his pants, while hopping on the other in the direction of the river, but after about three hops, fell flat on his face.

"Guys," said Cora, staring at the spot where Cam and Mel's tent had been. "Keep your pants on." She glanced over at Cam's sprawled figure. "Literally." She pointed. "I don't think Mel is in the river."

The pile of raw earth moved and a fourth disheveled head rose up out of it. Mel blinked and spat out some dirt. "OK," she gasped. "So you got me out of the tent."