They couldn’t be more wrong.
*
The next move comes as the sun lowers herself into the crack in the world. Me and Amie get pulled apart, bundled up, shoved outside – I’d started to forget therewasan outside, and I drink in the sight and smell of it. Dusk gives the air a blue tone and a biting cold. I wish I still had my hoodie. My hands are re-tied in front, which is good, cos my shoulders feel like they’re about to detach from my body.
In the rear seat of the Land Cruiser, I hold Amie in the circle of my shaking arms for the first time and we get about ten whole seconds unobserved.
She leans into my chest. ‘What do you think’s happening?’
‘Dunno. Stay by me, yeah? Whatever happens, stay close.’
Snowie gets into the front passenger seat before Ando. He looks like he’s found some new source of confidence. There’s definitely a swagger about him.
‘So what’s going on,buddy?’ I ask quietly.
He gives me a snarly grin. ‘Sortin’ it out, aren’t we? Delivering you two as a present. Leon’s gonna be rapt.’
‘Is he now?’
‘Sure he is.’ Snowie puffs out his chest. ‘Cheers, then beers. Not that I’m gonna take all the credit. But it was me who figured something was up, and Ando’s not a limelight kinda man.’
I dunno whether to laugh or cry. Snowie’s an idiot, sure, but using meth seems to have reduced his I.Q. by half again.
Ando bigs Snowie up all the way to the new location, which – no surprises – turns out to be the Nowheresville shed outside town where me and Mick the Leb met the van-man. It’s nearly full dark by the time we arrive, and the Land Cruiser isn’t the only car around. A white van is parked at the rear of the shed with its nose sticking out from the corner, and there’s another car, a dark grey Volvo.
Once we’ve pulled in near the Volvo, Ando twists around in the driver’s seat. ‘You two good there? Nice and comfy? Maybe you wanna have a last little snuggle before we take you inside, eh?’
‘Yeah, don’t mind us, we’ll sit here and watch,’ Snowie drawls.
‘Or you could take us out and shoot us now,’ I suggest. ‘Spare us the shit banter.’
Amie snorts. Ando makes a disgusted noise, opens his door.
The crack I made earns me a bit of manhandling: Ando yanks me out, shoves me against the side of the Cruiser, whacks my face against the door panel. My cheekbone yowls in protest. Exploding light-bulbs go off behind my eyelids, so I open them before I get the spews. I’m staring down at the side of the car and it’s like a reallygiantlight-bulb goes off, right inside my brain.
‘Y’know, this car’s got big wheels.’ I say it like I’m remarking on the weather. ‘Seriously, Ando. These are, like, the biggest wheels I’ve ever seen.’
‘It’s a fucking Land Cruiser, you moron.’ Ando spins me round, pushes me against the car.
‘Good burn-outs, with tyres that big. They chew up the ground, though, don’t they. When you park on the verge, I bet they chew up the grass real bad…’
I hold his gaze, see something creep into him. Maybe I’m full of shit. Maybe I dunno what I’m talking about. But maybe – just maybe – I have a strong sudden memory of a house with blue trim, rosellas in the trees, a muddied patch of grass on the verge near the front fence…
And it all starts to come together in my mind.
Some idiot’s parked his big-wheeled car here and then burned off…Snowie at the bar with his cigarettes, the day before I went to Tulane Road –‘Hey, you haven’t seen Ando about, have ya?’... Reggie waggling his eyebrows –‘He thinks he’s King Shit…Your fella, Ando. That’s his work…’
How did I not figure this out sooner?
Just like that, I know. And Ando’s looking right at me, so nowheknows. Before I can even open my mouth, he grabs me around the throat, muscles in and squeezes hard.
‘One fucking word,’ he hisses, ‘and I’ll kill you where you stand. Leon be damned. D’you hear what I’m saying?’
He doesn’t wait for me to reply. When Snowie comes around, holding Amie by the shoulders, Ando jostles me off the side of the car. All together, we march and limp and stumble inside the shed.
Maybe in the city you’d have more luxurious premises to make your drugs in. But this is the boonies. The shed’s set over a concrete slab. Two rows of old tables, a mess of batching equipment – primus cookers, plastic jugs, flat baking trays, and I-dunno-what-else – sit over on the right. A generator squats on the floor behind that, to keep the whole place plugged in. I can’t see the cooks. Maybe they’ve already been paid off and gone home.
Workshop lights glow above the tables. On the left, a little picnic arrangement of plastic chairs. The whole place smells rank. I’d make a joke about Health & Safety regs but I don’t think anyone would get it except Amie.
