Instinct has kept us alive so far. It's like a compass and I tune in to the needle often: trust/don't trust, run/stay ... I can't read the needle right now. The warmth of the room is clouding my judgment. In the midst of a nuclear winter, Lucy, Fin and Max flee the chaos of Sydney with blood on their clothes, a gun and handwritten directions to safety. When they reach Wattlewood, it seems like their struggle to survive might be over. There is food, warmth and adults in charge. So why can't Lucy shake the feeling they're still in danger? Lucy's survived the apocalypse, but can she escape a more insidious threat?