Night Riders will come for your women. They
will kill them all. And if they don't, I will. You want to survive this you keep your mouth shut and
your veins to yourself. Verstehen? '
Did he understand? Loud and clear.
The two-way fuzzed. 'One coming in, from the back,' Hunter reported. 'We are out of time.'
'Let's go. Oh, Grease Monkey - we'll be just outside. Watching. Listening.' She held up her
finger to her lips, then opened her hand to blow him a kiss.
And then she and Hunter were gone, leaving Kevin with the awareness that he was very lucky to
still be alive. They all were. The room smelled of burnt meat but the alarm had quit, sometime.
Then, as his mother ran toward him, and Meg stood in the hall with her knuckles to her mouth, he
realised he wasn't actually alive at all.
It replays as though he's on a carousel ride:
His mother picking up the rifle and working the bolt - clack, clack, like bony jaws slamming shut
- and running to the front door. Meg, there, right there , where only an eye blink ago Mira
was crouching, licking his face. Meg, cradling his face and staring into his eyes; asking him if
he's all right and what has happened. Her eyes are so very wide and glistening with tears, and the
concern he sees there is acid in his heart. He pulls her to him and he bites into her shoulder, that
point where her neck joins, and the skin is soft and steaming and opens like freshly baked bread and
the rush of blood is simply the most intense - he comes explosively and she groans, her fist beating
moth-like against his chest…
Screaming. Stereo, surround sound. It vibrates through him, into his chest, into his blood; his
heart races, trying to match that tune. He's screaming, too, down deep where the red flood doesn't
reach…
Meg, torn away. Her flesh tears under his teeth. Her shirt rips as he claws to hold her. She
sprawls on her arse and screams as she sees her blood for the first time. The scarlet leaches
through her ragged T-shirt…
A girl, young, his age maybe, skin the colour of strong coffee, an unnerving glimmer of red in
her eyes exactly the same as he saw in Hunter's, reefing him to his feet… He's drunk on his
feet and his muscles are dough…
His mother, shouting, crying his name, over and over again, and his arm around the stranger, his
feet dragging, and he realises, distantly through the crimson haze, that the girl's a lot stronger
than she appears…
From the back door, looking over his shoulder and seeing Meg, horrified and staring as she holds
her bloodied hands in front of her, and he's mumbling her name and thinking she won't want to stay
with him now. His mother shrieks at him, 'Kevin', a long wailing siren that turns into an animal's
anguished howl…
Stumbling across the yard and over the fence and across a paddock that feels as wide as the
Simpson fucking desert, and it's hot underfoot, the earth still radiating daytime heat though the
sun's well down…
A rubber bat dangling from the rear-vision mirror, and Deep Purple's Black Night blasting
the cabin, the girl winking at him, her eyes the colour of red-gold honey in the dashboard glow and
he thinks she doesn't look that dangerous…
The girl, asking, 'How are we?' and it takes a moment to realise she isn't talking to him, but a
walkie-talkie. 'Lucky,' she says, and Kevin wants to scream 'bullshit', and she says, 'Thanks
Hippie, see you back at the ranch', and then tells Kevin it looks as if they've made a clean
getaway, but he doesn't feel clean, not at all…
Him asking, pushing the word out through the fog, 'Who…?' She says her name is Kala and
tells him that everything is going to be all right and he laughs, a bitter choking sound, and closes
his eyes as they speed away into the night because it's easier to swallow lies with your eyes
shut…
The ride goes round, and round, and round.
SEVEN
The grain elevator sat like a rusting rocket ship next to the train tracks, the
towering silos spotted black with missing panels,
will kill them all. And if they don't, I will. You want to survive this you keep your mouth shut and
your veins to yourself. Verstehen? '
Did he understand? Loud and clear.
The two-way fuzzed. 'One coming in, from the back,' Hunter reported. 'We are out of time.'
'Let's go. Oh, Grease Monkey - we'll be just outside. Watching. Listening.' She held up her
finger to her lips, then opened her hand to blow him a kiss.
And then she and Hunter were gone, leaving Kevin with the awareness that he was very lucky to
still be alive. They all were. The room smelled of burnt meat but the alarm had quit, sometime.
Then, as his mother ran toward him, and Meg stood in the hall with her knuckles to her mouth, he
realised he wasn't actually alive at all.
It replays as though he's on a carousel ride:
His mother picking up the rifle and working the bolt - clack, clack, like bony jaws slamming shut
- and running to the front door. Meg, there, right there , where only an eye blink ago Mira
was crouching, licking his face. Meg, cradling his face and staring into his eyes; asking him if
he's all right and what has happened. Her eyes are so very wide and glistening with tears, and the
concern he sees there is acid in his heart. He pulls her to him and he bites into her shoulder, that
point where her neck joins, and the skin is soft and steaming and opens like freshly baked bread and
the rush of blood is simply the most intense - he comes explosively and she groans, her fist beating
moth-like against his chest…
Screaming. Stereo, surround sound. It vibrates through him, into his chest, into his blood; his
heart races, trying to match that tune. He's screaming, too, down deep where the red flood doesn't
reach…
Meg, torn away. Her flesh tears under his teeth. Her shirt rips as he claws to hold her. She
sprawls on her arse and screams as she sees her blood for the first time. The scarlet leaches
through her ragged T-shirt…
A girl, young, his age maybe, skin the colour of strong coffee, an unnerving glimmer of red in
her eyes exactly the same as he saw in Hunter's, reefing him to his feet… He's drunk on his
feet and his muscles are dough…
His mother, shouting, crying his name, over and over again, and his arm around the stranger, his
feet dragging, and he realises, distantly through the crimson haze, that the girl's a lot stronger
than she appears…
From the back door, looking over his shoulder and seeing Meg, horrified and staring as she holds
her bloodied hands in front of her, and he's mumbling her name and thinking she won't want to stay
with him now. His mother shrieks at him, 'Kevin', a long wailing siren that turns into an animal's
anguished howl…
Stumbling across the yard and over the fence and across a paddock that feels as wide as the
Simpson fucking desert, and it's hot underfoot, the earth still radiating daytime heat though the
sun's well down…
A rubber bat dangling from the rear-vision mirror, and Deep Purple's Black Night blasting
the cabin, the girl winking at him, her eyes the colour of red-gold honey in the dashboard glow and
he thinks she doesn't look that dangerous…
The girl, asking, 'How are we?' and it takes a moment to realise she isn't talking to him, but a
walkie-talkie. 'Lucky,' she says, and Kevin wants to scream 'bullshit', and she says, 'Thanks
Hippie, see you back at the ranch', and then tells Kevin it looks as if they've made a clean
getaway, but he doesn't feel clean, not at all…
Him asking, pushing the word out through the fog, 'Who…?' She says her name is Kala and
tells him that everything is going to be all right and he laughs, a bitter choking sound, and closes
his eyes as they speed away into the night because it's easier to swallow lies with your eyes
shut…
The ride goes round, and round, and round.
SEVEN
The grain elevator sat like a rusting rocket ship next to the train tracks, the
towering silos spotted black with missing panels,
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