brain” and walk off. And from now on, don’t confuse sex with love, okay? I haven’t got time for a heart-to-heart now, but later on when we find Sam and this wedding thing’s over, we need to have a good talk.’
They go, Bin with her arm round Cathy, heads close together. I hope Cooja doesn’t drop in here or he’ll be wearing his balls round his neck, I swear!
And so will Sam, if I get my hands on him. Where the hell is he?
SAM
Feels like we’ve been driving for hours. Where’s the cops? Who wants to go to Adelaide? Macca, that’s who. Turns out he’s got a brother there.
‘Like, guess what? I found out this dude’s name’s Sam Studley,’ says Cola suddenly. ‘And he’s fifteen.’
‘Who cares?’ says Zac in a flat voice. ‘We’re dumpin’ him soon as we can.’
‘Hey, Sammy,’ says Cola, swinging round. ‘You got a home or what?’
‘Yeah. Course I’ve got a home. Hasn’t everyone?’
‘Nah. We ain’t,’ goes Macca.
‘So where do you live, then?’
Cola looks at me and shrugs. ‘With mates. In squats. Wherever.’
‘Cola. Shut up.’
Zac sounds edgy. She swings back and stares out the window.
Street kids. I haven’t seen this lot before, but then when I’ve been jigging school in the mall they’ve probably still been asleep. They don’t usually cruise till late arvo. I wonder what it’s like being a street kid. Sounds cool. But I wouldn’t want to spend my life on the run dodging cops.
‘Better get off the highway,’ says Macca.
We turn off onto a side road. It’s the country, flat paddocks and a few trees. We could end up anywhere. This is dumb. If the cops start searching with infra red in the dark they’ll find us easily.
We skid in the loose gravel, and I think we’re going to lose it. But Steve’s spent big bucks on the best tyres, and the van holds the road.
‘I need to pee,’ says Cola.
Macca slams on the brakes.
‘Go for it,’ says Zac, patting her on the bum as she wriggles across him to get out. So that’s how it is, Cola and Zac.
‘But … it’s dark out there,’ she says nervously.
She’s right. Black. No stars. Nothing. I wouldn’t mind a leak myself but—
‘We’ll come with ya, then. Out!’ goes Zac, leaning over and poking me hard in the chest. ‘Might as well all have a piss, save stopping later.’
Macca opens his door, bails, and comes around to the rear door. I stumble out. Cola disappears behind a bush and we three do our thing. It’s so cold we’re steaming.
‘Let’s leave Sammy here,’ says Zac suddenly, staring at me.
Not a good idea. We’re in the middle of nowhere and it gives me the creeps.
Then he looks at me again.
‘On second thoughts, we’ll keep him. We might need him as a hostage if the jacks get us, eh.’
Hostage? I thought that only happened in Iran and places like that. I’m not hostage material; I want to be home asleep in my nice warm bed.
‘Er …,’ I go.
‘Dunno about a hostage,’ says Macca, ‘but he seems harmless. Don’t ya, Sam?’
‘Yeah,’ I go, ‘I’m harmless.’
Macca suddenly seems more friendly. Maybe it’s because of peeing together. Or maybe he’s mellowingout from the drugs he’s been on.
‘Come on, Sam. Into the van,’ he says, draping an arm round my shoulders.
‘It’s getting light,’ says Zac. ‘Let’s get back on the highway, grab a burger or somethin’, then go bush again.’
I don’t know how they do it, but they find the highway and we rip down it, fast. No traffic. No cops. It’s like the end of the world’s come and we’re the only ones still in it. Then I see the lights of this truck, coming fast. Human life. I wish I could signal, but what’s the use? It’s going like a bat outa hell, and the van shudders as the rig flashes by, going like stink.
I’m still figuring. What time did this crew nick the van? I look at my watch. It’s now seven on Saturday morning. It’s a three-hour drive to Portland and we’re not there yet.
They go, Bin with her arm round Cathy, heads close together. I hope Cooja doesn’t drop in here or he’ll be wearing his balls round his neck, I swear!
And so will Sam, if I get my hands on him. Where the hell is he?
SAM
Feels like we’ve been driving for hours. Where’s the cops? Who wants to go to Adelaide? Macca, that’s who. Turns out he’s got a brother there.
‘Like, guess what? I found out this dude’s name’s Sam Studley,’ says Cola suddenly. ‘And he’s fifteen.’
‘Who cares?’ says Zac in a flat voice. ‘We’re dumpin’ him soon as we can.’
‘Hey, Sammy,’ says Cola, swinging round. ‘You got a home or what?’
‘Yeah. Course I’ve got a home. Hasn’t everyone?’
‘Nah. We ain’t,’ goes Macca.
‘So where do you live, then?’
Cola looks at me and shrugs. ‘With mates. In squats. Wherever.’
‘Cola. Shut up.’
Zac sounds edgy. She swings back and stares out the window.
Street kids. I haven’t seen this lot before, but then when I’ve been jigging school in the mall they’ve probably still been asleep. They don’t usually cruise till late arvo. I wonder what it’s like being a street kid. Sounds cool. But I wouldn’t want to spend my life on the run dodging cops.
‘Better get off the highway,’ says Macca.
We turn off onto a side road. It’s the country, flat paddocks and a few trees. We could end up anywhere. This is dumb. If the cops start searching with infra red in the dark they’ll find us easily.
We skid in the loose gravel, and I think we’re going to lose it. But Steve’s spent big bucks on the best tyres, and the van holds the road.
‘I need to pee,’ says Cola.
Macca slams on the brakes.
‘Go for it,’ says Zac, patting her on the bum as she wriggles across him to get out. So that’s how it is, Cola and Zac.
‘But … it’s dark out there,’ she says nervously.
She’s right. Black. No stars. Nothing. I wouldn’t mind a leak myself but—
‘We’ll come with ya, then. Out!’ goes Zac, leaning over and poking me hard in the chest. ‘Might as well all have a piss, save stopping later.’
Macca opens his door, bails, and comes around to the rear door. I stumble out. Cola disappears behind a bush and we three do our thing. It’s so cold we’re steaming.
‘Let’s leave Sammy here,’ says Zac suddenly, staring at me.
Not a good idea. We’re in the middle of nowhere and it gives me the creeps.
Then he looks at me again.
‘On second thoughts, we’ll keep him. We might need him as a hostage if the jacks get us, eh.’
Hostage? I thought that only happened in Iran and places like that. I’m not hostage material; I want to be home asleep in my nice warm bed.
‘Er …,’ I go.
‘Dunno about a hostage,’ says Macca, ‘but he seems harmless. Don’t ya, Sam?’
‘Yeah,’ I go, ‘I’m harmless.’
Macca suddenly seems more friendly. Maybe it’s because of peeing together. Or maybe he’s mellowingout from the drugs he’s been on.
‘Come on, Sam. Into the van,’ he says, draping an arm round my shoulders.
‘It’s getting light,’ says Zac. ‘Let’s get back on the highway, grab a burger or somethin’, then go bush again.’
I don’t know how they do it, but they find the highway and we rip down it, fast. No traffic. No cops. It’s like the end of the world’s come and we’re the only ones still in it. Then I see the lights of this truck, coming fast. Human life. I wish I could signal, but what’s the use? It’s going like a bat outa hell, and the van shudders as the rig flashes by, going like stink.
I’m still figuring. What time did this crew nick the van? I look at my watch. It’s now seven on Saturday morning. It’s a three-hour drive to Portland and we’re not there yet.
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