I had been bushwalking up one of the more gentle Glasshouse Mountains in Queensland. Being very unfit, I trudged along as my children dashed through the trees, clambered over rocks and explored crevasses. They were scraped, and cut and thorns dug into them and they were not at all bothered by snakes, ticks and leeches. And all this time they had huge grins on their faces. Tough kids. But as I walked, a story started to form. Imagine being in the forest being chased by murderers. Now that would be terrifying! When we got back from the walk, I went straight to my computer. With the smells and sights and feel of the bush fresh in my mind, I brought the story to life.