I open my eyes onto Friday morning. Sun is patterning the room, and I feel fresh.
This day… This day is unlike any other day. And there’s a long line of them in front of me: days when I get to roll out of bed feeling good, days full of potential. Days when I feel alive. Days with the promise of seeing Harris again. Whatever comes, I can handle it.
It’s a good day for making decisions.
I’ve thought long and hard about it. After this week anything is possible. I can do anything, choose whatever I want, go anywhere in the universe. The idea of the residency, of freedom, doesn’t seem as terrifying as it did last week, and today is the last day I can act on it. I’m still scared – my fingers shake as I fill out the forms, as I tap the laptop keys to upload additional photos, sign up for an interview – but it’s nothing like the fear and nausea I experienced when I was contemplating Hansa’s request.
As soon as it’s done I feel a strange sense of peace. If I stay, I’ll only be doing an impersonation of myself: good responsible Amie. With this decision, my best self and my real self are merging until I’m more whole than I’ve ever been before.
When I bring Nani her morning tea, she definitely notices.
‘You’re smiling, bebe.’ She dunks her biscuits in her chai. ‘That’s better. You have been very low over the past few days.’
‘I’m feeling better.’ I settle myself on her bed. ‘Maybe that rest yesterday was just what I needed.’
‘Maybe having a visitor was just what you needed.’
I think I blush a little. ‘I was glad to see Harris. He’s…there’s things about him…’
‘You don’t have to explain to me, child.’ Nani waves her soggy biscuit. ‘I have been in love.’
‘You and Nanaa –’
‘I know you think it is strange I talk to my Apu, but he is always with me. Even now.’ She looks at me. ‘I loved your Nanaa strongly, and I still do. He passed before you were even a spark in your mother’s eye. But he was with me for the raising of two children until just before your mother and auntie came here to study, and he provided for their education overseas. He was a good husband and a good man. He is still always in my heart.’
‘Harris is a good man.’ Saying that was easy. Now for the hard part. I clasp her free hand, take a deep breath. ‘And…I know you need me here for you, but I don’t think I can stay in Mildura and look after you. I need to live my own life for a little while. I’ve been offered a chance at a photography scholarship. And Harris might have to leave town soon, so I think I’d like to –’
‘Why would you stay and look after me?’ She blinks at me.
‘To be your carer.’ Confusion is still written all over her face. ‘To look after you here, full time? Like Auntie Hansa asked.’
‘Your Mami asked you to stay and live with me?’ Nani puts down her biscuit. ‘To babysit me?’
‘Not to babysit, Nani. To help.’ Now I’m the confused one. ‘Hansa hasn’t told you about…’
‘About the plan to have me taken care of?’ Nani’s eyes are glinting dangerously. ‘To be mollycoddled and fussed over and –’
‘Nani! It’s not like that!’ Or is it? How much of this arrangement was Nani even informed of? I have a terrible feeling I’ve somehow dropped Auntie Hansa right in it, without even being aware of it. ‘Look, everyone was concerned after you wandered down the street that day –’
‘That is no reason for people to be making up plans to cosset me! Whose idea was this?’
‘I don’t –’ I shake my head, not sure what to say now. ‘I don’t know, Nani. Auntie just asked me to stay.’
‘Bah!’ I have to rescue Nani’s cup of chai when she flings her hands up. ‘And you were going to agree to this foolishness? How long have I been saying to you, “Go out and live”? You think I meant staying here? Looking after an old woman, sitting amongst the doilies and making rice pudding –’
‘That doesn’t matter if you’re the old woman I’m looking after!’ I frown, shocked at my own directness. ‘Nani, you spent yesterday at the hospital. How can you say you don’t need more support when you have dizzy spells, and call me by my mother’s name –’
‘Your mother would never have allowed it!’ Nani is glaring. ‘I will not allow it either! Have you people never heard of domiciliary care? Senior citizens centres, home nurses –’
‘Hansa can’t afford to get a nurse in, you know that, Nani! She practically re-mortgaged the house to pay for Jas’s wedding, and she’s got another daughter to go. And would you really want a stranger looking after you? Don’t you want someone who would care for you properly?’
Nani rolls her eyes dramatically. ‘You think I haven’t put something aside for myself? I can provide perfectly well for the services I need. Whether I choose a stranger to care for me is my own decision to make. I would rather that than have you stuck here in this house, pining for the life you won’t get to lead!’
She leans forward and grasps both my hands in her own.
‘Amita, I may be an old woman, and I may need attention sometimes, but that is not what I want for you. It is never what I have wanted for you.’ She touches my cheek. ‘Can’t you see? You fuss and worry over the people you love, restrict yourself to make them happy. But you must stop holding yourself back. For the last four years I have been encouraging you to go out and make yourself happy.’
I’m trying to figure out why I feel so hurt. ‘I thought you would want me to be here for you…’
‘There may be a time when I call you to me, bebe, but that time is not now. Now is when you have the chance to be young, to have freedom to do the things that are important to you. I have had that time, and now I give it to you.’
Nani uncurls her hands from mine and I half-expect there to be something resting on my palm, like she’s performed a magic trick. But there’s no magic trick. It’s just that she wants to kiss my hand, press it to her cheek.
The magic wasn’t in her actions, but in her words.
‘I wasn’t…’ My blinks are damp. ‘I was going to stay, Nani. But I changed my mind.’
‘Good,’ she states. ‘Then that handsome boy is having a positive effect on you.’
I laugh, dash at my eyes with the back of my hand. ‘Yes, but it’s more like… I guess he just showed me it could be done. Harris has had a hard life. So hard I can barely imagine it. He’s had to fight for everything. But…he got free. He makes his own choices. If he can do it, after everything he’s been through, so can I.’
‘I told you he was a good match,’ Nani says.
I laugh again. Then I think of something. ‘What should I say to Mami? She might be upset if I turn her down.’
Nani shakes her head. ‘It was not her decision to make. Maybe in five or ten years, when I am really “losing my marbles”, as they say, she can decide then. But don’t worry, bebe. Let me talk to Hansa. I will sort it out. Now, go. Don’t you have someone you’d rather be talking with?’
She’s right about that too. I kiss her on the cheek, make my way back out to my room and text Harris.
Contact hospital immediately for urgent care needs
It’s not a particularly well-disguised message, but I’m hoping it will do.
*
Hansa is at work. Beena is at college, due home in an hour. I’m considering my options. It’s nearly three in the afternoon, and I haven’t heard from Harris.
I’ve texted him twice more, but I can’t send a barrage of messages. It might seem weird if someone else looks at his phone. At that meeting he attended everyone gave up their phones: could he be stuck in some situation like that again? It’s possible he’s been held up with Leon, or Snowie, or any of the other characters involved in the house at Amblin Court. Maybe he had to take Reggie to the hospital again. Maybe there was an accident. Maybe he’s been arrested.
Or maybe he’s dead, sprawled in a ditch outside of town.
Apparently closing your eyes and squeezing them tight doesn’t alleviate anxiety. Neither does snacking on Beena’s homemade gulab jamun. Neither does walking: I’ve already taken a turn down the street and back with Nani.
I’m not ready to start praying again. That would make me feel desperate.
‘Why don’t you call him instead of sending those little messages?’ Nani watches me pace, from her spot on the kitchen stool.
‘I can’t. He always lets me know when he’s able to receive calls. Or he could get into trouble.’
‘Ah, the police training,’ Nani acknowledges, nodding.
I chew my lip, but I can’t stand it anymore. It’s like I’m ready to burst. ‘It’s not police training, Nani. Harris isn’t training to be a police officer. That was something we said to make you feel better.’
Nani narrows her eyes. ‘Then what is he doing?’
‘He’s –’ I sit down on the stool next to her, close my eyes for the briefest moment. ‘Harris is an informant. He’s working with a local crystal methamphetamine cartel, and relaying the information he finds out back to the police.’
‘Drugs?’ She makes a terrible face. I think she’s read plenty about crystal meth in the newspaper. ‘He is involved with drugs?’
‘Harris volunteered, Nani. I told you he’s had a hard life. He was offered this job and he took it, on the condition he could work from the inside to bust the cartel.’
‘My god, no wonder you are worried, this is… But he stays in touch with you?’
‘I’m his contact. I send the information back.’ Finally, I can say it out loud.
She looks horrified. ‘Does your father know about this, Amita?’
‘He was the one who set it up.’
She puts her hands over her face. I have a moment of panic. If she has a spell now, it won’t be because of her blood pressure medication. It’ll be all on me.
But then she drops her hands, clasps them together. ‘So Harris was supposed to call you today.’
‘Yes.’ I check the time again. ‘Only it’s late, and I’m getting nervous.’
‘And there is nothing you can do but wait?’
‘No, there’s nothing –’
I stop. There’s not nothing. There’s something. I know the house on Amblin Court, I know Reggie and Steph…Well, not exactly, but enough. I could go down there. Even just to see if Harris’s car is outside. Even just to peer in the windows. I know where to go, and I can stay out of sight if I have to.
Sitting here and waiting again, like the other day…I don’t think I could bear it. I have to act.
I stand up. ‘Actually, you’re right. There’s something I can do. But Nani, I’d have to leave you here in the house. I can’t take you with me. You’d be alone until Beena comes back.’
‘That is my concern, not yours,’ Nani says brusquely. ‘I am perfectly capable of –’
‘Nani, I mean it. I can’t leave if I’m worried you’re going to go off wandering the streets, or falling down in a faint again.’
‘I am feeling all right.’ She looks contrite. ‘I will lie in bed and read, and wait for Beena. I promise.’
‘Okay.’ I’m not completely reassured but it’s something. ‘You tuck up in bed, and I’ll get ready.’
As I change out of my cut-offs and into a pair of jeans, my brain snarls over all the things that could go wrong with this plan. What if Harris isn’t home? Where do I search then? What if Reggie and Steph aren’t at the house? Or worse: what if Snowie, or Marcus Anderson, are there? But I don’t need to make myself visible, if it’s not necessary. I can be sneaky…
I don’t think about it. I just grab everything I might need – phone, keys, money – and stuff my pockets, then snatch up a jacket. I race back through the house, take the landline phone from the kitchen into Nani’s room.
She’s in bed, like she promised. ‘Have you had any news?’
I shake my head. ‘No news. Look, take the phone. If you’re feeling ill, call Hansa at the hospital straightaway – straightaway, okay? Don’t make me worry.’
‘I will call if I need to.’
‘Great. And…nobody knows about this except for Harris and me and Dad. Keeping it secret is really important, for Harris’s safety. So if I’m not back, and people are asking, maybe you could make up a good excuse for me?’
‘Certainly.’ She beams. She seems happy to have something to do. ‘I can be your accomplice.’
I almost smile. ‘An accomplice is somebody who helps the bad guys, Nani. How about we say you’re my deputy, okay?’
‘Yes, a deputy. I will be a wonderful deputy.’ She stops me with a hand on my arm. ‘But Amita, if you are not home by tonight, I cannot make excuses. I will call your father.’
I don’t want to say Harris and I might need a call like that. She might worry. ‘That would be a good thing to do, Nani,’ I say instead.
She pulls my head down and gives me a smacking kiss on the cheek. ‘Go. May God help you find your Ouyen boy.’
‘Thank you.’ I kiss her in return, try to store the memory of her wrinkled cheek, her powdery honeysuckle smell. ‘Hopefully, I’ll see you soon.’
*
It’s not until I’m swinging my car into Amblin Court that I realise I’m nearly out of fuel. I tap the gauge, swearing, and check the clock on the dashboard. It’s three thirty-seven. Too late to turn around now.
The street is quiet. Sun escapes the swirl of cloud overhead and dashes itself on the windscreen. But I can see the Pitbull parked on the verge opposite the house. I cruise past once, turn around and pull up a little way further down.
Okay, Harris’s car is here. What does that mean? If he’s at the house, why hasn’t he messaged? Maybe he’s gone somewhere on foot: to the footy ground with Reggie. But he can’t have been at the footy ground all day. Could he be sick? But if he’s so sick he can’t contact me, I want to know about it.
There aren’t any other vehicles. The motorbike that was here the day I arrived to resuscitate Reggie – didn’t Harris mention that Steph rode a bike? – isn’t around now. Oh god, where could he be?
This is bullshit. I can’t sit here in the car doing nothing, not now I’m so close. Harris is gone and there are answers in that house, if I’ve got the courage to find them.
I get out of the car and pull on my jacket, which makes me feel less vulnerable even though it’s too hot. Locking the car, I check the street one final time, walk until I hit the path to the house. Somewhere in the neighbourhood a baby is crying. Maybe it’s the same baby Harris has told me about.
Standing at the door I get another attack of nerves. What if no one’s home? What if Snowie answers the door? But Harris said he drives a silver car, and Ando has a Land Cruiser. None of those vehicles are around… I dig my keys out of my jacket pocket and hold them tight in my fist. I’m a copper’s daughter, I know how to defend myself. I knock, and pray I won’t need to.
The door is yanked wide. It’s Reggie, making a face like he thinks I’m selling encyclopedias.
‘What?’ His cheeks have more pink in them than last time I saw him. He looks at me properly, blinks. ‘Shit. You.’
I make a little wave. ‘Um, hi. Yep, it’s me, Amie.’
He pushes into the doorway, towards me. His eyes have gone huge. ‘Jesus, what are you doing here?’
I baulk. ‘What do you mean, what am I doing here? I’m looking for Harris.’
‘Get out, get out –’ He steps forward out of the house, ushering with his hands. ‘Are you fucking nuts? You can’t be here.’
‘Well, I’m here now.’ I stand my ground. ‘Where’s Harris?’
‘That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell you.’ He pulls the door half-shut. His eyes are darting. ‘Fuck, I can’t believe you came here…’
I get a bad feeling in my stomach, which I try to beat down with a firm manner. ‘Reggie, let’s ignore the fact I’m here for a second. What I want to know is, is Harris here?’
‘Shit, this is my fault… He’s gone. That’s what I been sayin’ –’
‘What do you mean he’s gone?’
‘They fucking took him, okay?’
‘What?’ Cold slices into me, through my jacket.
Reggie looks distraught. ‘Ando and Snowie came and they gave me the fucking third degree about being in the hospital, and I told ’em about you, but it was a total accident, yeah?’
‘Reggie, what did you tell them? What happened?’
He pulls at his stubbled head. ‘Ah, shit. I told ’em there was a girl here when I come to, a desi chick –’
The cold is burrowing into my bones.
‘ – and then Snowie asked if you had a name, and I tried to buy some time, but I had to tell him, I had to –’
‘You told Snowie my name?’ My lungs are shorting out. I take quick high breaths.
‘ – and then Ando and Snowie, they – ah, Jesus – they waited for ages, and then Harris got home, and when he got in the door, they –’
‘Where are they now?’ My voice is hoarse. My hands are clenched hard around my keys but I don’t even feel it. ‘Where’s Harris, Reggie?’
‘He was here, all last night,’ he sobs out. ‘They had him in Barry’s room. They… I think they messed him up real bad. And then this morning they took him. I dunno where, I swear I dunno. But you can’t be here. Ando said he’s coming back, and I dunno when he’s coming but if they find you…’
I can’t think about Ando finding me right now. My head is clamouring, brimful of all those horrible bleeding images of Harris from the other day. Only now I know they’re real, and it’s making all my limbs weak.
But I can’t feel like that. We don’t have time. Harris’s time might be even shorter.
I grab Reggie by the arms. ‘Is Steph here?’
He screws up his eyes. ‘Whaddya wanna –’
‘Just answer the question. Is Steph here?’
‘No. She hasn’t been back since Wednesday. I dunno where she is, probably on some driving job.’
‘And Kevin?’
‘How do you know about –’ He sees my face. ‘No.’
‘Reggie, listen to me. Do you have any idea where they might have taken Harris? To the club, or a house, or a –’
‘No, okay?’ He wriggles in my grip. ‘I dunno. Not the club. Snowie’s got a place in town, but –’
‘If they’re dragging him around, and he’s been beaten up, that sounds too exposed.’ I let him go, chew my thumbnail. ‘Would they take him to Leon?’
He shakes his head. ‘They were talkin’ about it. They know they’re in the shit. They were freaking out about having to tell Leon that Harris has been a dog this whole time –’
‘So what were they going to do? Wait?’ I swallow hard. ‘Were they going to kill Harris and dump him somewhere?’
Reggie shivers. ‘They said it was better to keep him alive. Then at least Leon’s got somebody else he can take it out on.’
I stagger back a step, looking at the weeds sprouting up beside the concrete path and seeing nothing. Don’t pass out, Amie, you don’t have time for that –
Reggie grabs my arm. ‘Hey. Hey, you’re all pale and stuff. C’mon…’
‘I’m okay,’ I whisper. ‘I’m okay.’
‘He’s your guy, is he, Harris? He’s your guy. It’s not just dog and handler, right?’
‘Yes.’ My vision is going pale, overexposed. I fight it. ‘Yes, he’s my guy.’
‘He’s a good guy, Harris. He’s a mate.’ Reggie straightens, still holding my arm. ‘He looks out for me. I wanna help, I do, but –’
‘Is there any place you can think of?’ I’m clutching at straws now, clutching Reggie’s forearm. ‘Any place, Reggie. A room, or–’
‘There’s a caravan in Red Cliffs where Kev holes up sometimes. And there’s a shed near the river where they keep stuff, but –’
‘A shed.’ That could be it.
‘Yeah, but I dunno the address, I only went there once, with Steph driving –’
‘Could you find your way again?’
‘Maybe.’ He looks at me, uncertain. ‘I guess. You’re gonna try and find him?’
‘Yes.’ I feel better saying that. Stronger. I repeat it, more firmly. ‘Yes, I’m gonna try and find him. But...I’m going to need directions, Reggie.’
‘Shit.’ Reggie glances up the street, back to me. ‘Okay. Ah, fuck. I try to keep my head down, mostly, y’know?’
‘But it’s Harris,’ I point out.
‘Yeah.’ He sighs. ‘Yeah, it’s Harris. Okay, gimme a sec.’
He dashes back into the house and, for a moment, I think he’s scarpered. Then I really will be stuffed, because I can’t search every vacant shed along the Murray. But before I’ve even finished the thought, Reggie’s back, a flannie shirt tied around his waist and a half-full bottle of yellow Gatorade in one hand.
‘Just getting me supplies, yeah?’ He pulls the door closed behind him. ‘Which one’s your car?’ When I point to my Honda he looks appalled. ‘Really?’
‘It’s just a car, Reggie.’ Then I remember. ‘Oh shit. I’m low on fuel. How far is–’
‘Far enough.’ He shakes his head. Then something occurs to him. He slaps the Gatorade into my hand, pushes back into the house.
I don’t have time for this. ‘Reggie. Reggie –’
But a minute later he’s back, waggling both eyebrows. With his head shaved like that he looks a bit demonic.
‘Got a better idea.’ He grabs the Gatorade and tosses me a set of keys, keys I’m familiar with. ‘You’re outta gas? There’s your ticket.’ He nods at the Pitbull, parked across the street.
I blink. But I have to admit, the Pitbull does have ‘getaway car’ written all over it. ‘Where’d you get the keys?’
‘Swiped ’em.’ He looks pretty pleased with himself. ‘Come on, then. Let’s get movin’.’
With a last look at my Honda, I jog across the street, unlock the Pitbull and slide behind the wheel. Reggie trots around to the passenger side, takes a swig of Gatorade as he shuts the door. The big engine starts without a hitch. It growls smoothly as I handle the car off the curb and onto the road, doing a U-turn to get back onto the main drag. The steering is about a million times more sensitive than my Honda, and I have to pay attention.
‘Okay, head for the river,’ Reggie says, putting his window down. ‘It’s a bit south from here. When I see something I know, I’ll give you a yell.’
I yank my phone out of my pocket and hand it to him. ‘Check for any messages – look under “Patient #451”.’
‘Nah, there’s nothing,’ he replies, after a pause.
‘Okay.’ That’s pretty much what I was expecting. ‘Now send a text for me. Go to ‘Dad’ –’
‘They said your dad’s a cop.’ He looks wary. ‘Is that for real?’
‘Yes, he’s a senior sergeant. Now say –’
‘Shit. Will I get busted if this all goes down?’
‘Reggie –’
‘Okay, okay. Fine.’ Reggie holds the phone gingerly. ‘Whaddya wanna say?’
I think quickly. ‘Say Harris made – full stop – S and A holding in river location – full stop – Checking places now – full stop – Call Murphy asap. Have you got all that?’
‘How d’you spell ‘location’?’
I spell it for him, repeat the rest until he’s managed to get it texted.
‘Why don’t you just call him yourself?’ he asks, handing the phone back
I turn off my phone and slip it into my pocket, keep my eyes forward. ‘Because he’ll only try to talk me out of going to find Harris, and I don’t have time for an argument right now.’
We clunk over the rail line, passing corner stores and fish and chip shops, wheelie bins on street corners, mechanics’ garages. Houses here on the edge of town are fenced with corrugated iron or chicken wire. Long rows of grapevines stretch out into the paddocks behind people’s backyards.
‘Here!’ Reggie’s hand jerks out. ‘Turn here.’
I turn left, towards the river. This is like the back way I drive to reach the usual rendezvous point. Clouds high above are overwhelming the sun as we head closer to the Murray. Below them, the only tall things are the power poles and the occasional stand of gums.
We pass a guy fence-posting beside his ute, on the left side of the road. Reggie sits up straighter. ‘This bit. There’s a house up here and some vine sheds –’
He’s right: the house is a cream weatherboard, lonesome amongst the acres of vines. A large tin shed hulks behind, and Reggie points out where the road doglegs into another straight stretch. A collection of sheds stands halfway down on the right. Far at the end of the road, I see a T-junction, the intersecting road running parallel with the river.
Tension is bubbling below the surface of my skin, ready to crest high and send me reeling. Better to focus on what I’m doing right now. When Reggie swears hard, I startle. ‘What? What is it?’
‘Oh fuck.’ His face has gone chalky. ‘That’s –’
He’s pointing at another vehicle approaching the junction from the right, on the intersecting road. It’s a Land Cruiser. Even from here it looks enormous, as if it should be pulling a road train or something.
‘That’s Ando’s fucking car,’ Reggie rasps. ‘Oh Jesus…’
And I realise what we’ve done wrong as soon as the words fall out of his mouth.
‘This was a mistake,’ I whisper. Reggie grabs the sleeve of my shirt, but I know it. I can feel it. ‘The Pitbull… Oh god, he’ll recognise the car.’
Our eyes are glued to the Land Cruiser as it passes the T-junction, hoping against hope…
‘He’s passing,’ Reggie says, almost whimpering.
But I keep watching. When the Land Cruiser slows, eases to the road shoulder, leaving enough room to turn around, I voice what Reggie and I are both thinking. ‘Shit. He’s coming back around. He’s seen us.’
I should be shaking in my boots but I’ve moved beyond that now. I’m so scared, my brain has switched into some sort of self-protective SuperCalm mode, and I think I’ve figured something out. In fact, I’m sure of it.
I clasp both hands on the wheel in a ten-to-two position, just like Dad taught me, and keep my foot steady on the accelerator. ‘Reggie, get ready. You’re getting out of the car.’
‘What?’
‘I’m going to swing around near those sheds, like I’m trying to get away. And when I slow down, while we’re facing the other direction and you’re shielded from sight, you’re going to slip out of the car. Okay?’
Reggie looks at me like he thinks I’ve gone mad. ‘Uh, okay?’
‘Take this.’ I loosen one hand, pass him my phone again.
Reggie’s face is frozen. ‘What, you want me to –’
‘It’s not locked. Once you’re clear, call my dad. Tell him exactly what’s happened –’
‘He’s not gonna listen to me!’
‘He will if you’ve got my phone,’ I explain firmly. ‘Then get to someplace safe. If you don’t have a place to go, find your way to Tenth Street and go to Moira’s Corner Cuts beauty salon and speak to Roberta Geraldi. Tell her I sent you.’
I make him repeat Robbie’s name, and the name of the salon.
‘Okay, you’ve got it.’ The Land Cruiser is at the junction, and the sheds on the right are coming up fast. ‘Are you ready?’
‘This is a bad idea,’ Reggie says darkly.
‘I know!’ I surprise myself by laughing. It’s a sobbing laugh. ‘Oh god, I know… But it’s the best way I can think of to find Harris fast.’
‘By letting Ando catch you.’ Reggie shakes his head. ‘Jesus, Amie, you are one gutsy chick.’
‘Get ready,’ I say in reply, then we’re passing the sheds and I’m swinging the car in a wide slow U-turn.
There’s no other traffic on this road, so I have plenty of space to turn. At the arc’s furthest point, Reggie pops the door handle and scuttles out of the car. He’s done it perfectly, concealing himself in a patch of shade behind some tangled shrubs near the shed entrance. I lean across and tug the door closed as unobtrusively as I can without slowing the car’s momentum. Then I pull away fast.
The rear-view mirror shows no Reggie in sight, and far back behind me, the world’s most enormous Land Cruiser. Right – I’m being tailed by Optimus Prime. A giggle escapes me: I rein it in. I don’t know where all this inappropriate humour is coming from.
Wind tears through the open window of the car with a sound like snapping flags. I plant my foot on the Pitbull’s accelerator, watch in the rear-view as the Land Cruiser rapidly gains speed. I hear an engine rev loud, then Ando’s car is behind me. Level with me on the right. Passing me. It pulls ahead with a powerful chugging surge, makes distance –
Then it’s angling, boxing me onto the road shoulder. I hit the brake hard as the Land Cruiser screeches to a halt, blocking the Pitbull in front like something out of ‘World’s Wildest Police Videos’. The driver’s door on the far side of the Land Cruiser flings opens and I see Marcus Anderson’s hulking form emerge. He stalks towards me amidst a cloud of dust.
My whole body is shaking. I clench my fingers around the steering wheel and wait.