
Tim Ayliffe’s new thriller Dark Desert Road delivers claustrophic tension as twin sisters navigate extremists in the outback.
The prologue to Tim Ayliffe’s Dark Desert Road begins with a woman trapped in a stranger’s suitcase, but the even more arresting detail is that this isn’t the first time she’s found herself contained in this way. With this startling image, Ayliffe establishes the dark dread that will permeate this standalone thriller, his first departure from his John Bailey series which began with The Greater Good.
At this story’s heart are identical twin sisters Kit and Billie, who share only a face and a traumatic childhood. In almost every other way they’re different. Kit has become a police officer working on taking down a paedophile ring, channelling her past into protecting the vulnerable. Billie, on the other hand, has followed their father into criminality.
When Kit discovers that Billie is missing and that her sister has a young son, Ollie, the mission to find them both becomes urgent. This isn’t about sisterly reconciliation; it’s about saving a child from the mess Billie is involved with – and the criminal friends of their father.
If Operation Silver had taught Kit anything, it was that every child needed protecting. And sometimes that meant from the people who were supposed to love them the most.
As Kit follows Billie’s trail, she realises Billie has become involved in something much darker than she could have ever imagined: the world of religious survivalists living in Australia’s remote desert. A world of paranoia, weapons stockpiles and simmering violence.
The narrative alternates between Kit’s and Billie’s perspectives, and between past and present. The flashbacks to their childhood and early adulthood show not just what happened to them, but how two people experiencing the same trauma can fracture in opposite directions. The dual timeline never feels contrived, instead deepening our understanding of why these women remain bound together even as they resent and fight each other right to the end. Their shared determination to save Ollie doesn’t erase their conflicts but intensifies them, creating a portrait of sisterhood that refuses easy sentiment.
What distinguishes Dark Desert Road is Ayliffe’s specificity about his extremist community. These aren’t tin-foil-hat caricatures but dishonourably discharged soldiers from Afghanistan who feel betrayed by their government and have replaced national pride with religious, anti-state, separatist extremism. The outback itself becomes inseparable from this portrait, its vast emptiness and harsh beauty mirroring both the physical and psychological isolation of those living there.
The extreme heat hadn’t stopped them from lighting the fire. It never did. Neither had the bushfire restrictions brought on by the drought. Not that they took any notice of the law out here.
The bonfire was a ritual. Especially when there was something to celebrate.
They’d been out there for hours, sitting on tree stumps and the old sofas they’d found by the side of the road. Sun-kissed faces glowing red, voices beginning to slur.
The plot is complex without becoming convoluted. Multiple threats converge: the separatists, bikies, police, locals. Ayliffe maintains remarkable control over this web of danger, and the pacing never falters, combining sustained tension and genuine investment in whether Kit can extract both Billie and Ollie from this lethal world.
Dark Desert Road feels particularly urgent in its engagement with extremism at a moment when Australia, like much of the world, is grappling with the rise of radicalised communities convinced of their own righteousness. Ayliffe doesn’t shy away from the religious fundamentalism driving his separatists – they believe they’re enacting God’s will, and this conviction makes them far more dangerous than mere survivalists. The novel draws explicit connections between fundamentalist religious beliefs and extremism, showing how theological certainty can justify violence and isolation from the mainstream.
Dark Desert Road is both nuanced and gripping. The novel refuses to soften the sharp edges of its sisterly relationship in favour of tidy reconciliation, and examines the real and current threat of extremism, while also being a very entertaining read.
Tim Ayliffe Dark Desert Road Echo Publishing 2026 PB 400pp $34.99
Viv Ronnebeck is a Sydney crime writer. She is currently working on her second novel, a contemporary cosy murder mystery.
You can buy Dark Desert Road from Abbey’s at a 10% discount by quoting the promotion code NEWTOWNREVIEW.
You can also check if it is available from Newtown Library.
Tags: Australian fiction, Australian writers, crime writers, extremists, separatist communities, twins
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