Roads End Chapter 4

With the pretence of knocking my cup and spilling my precious coffee, (god, why'd I chose the coffee?) I listened intently to each breath.
Deep. Even. Male.
Great. How like me to be stuck in the middle of no-where and end up with a guy, identity and intention unknown, in the back of my car, hiding... Would any normal person have such luck? I snorted.
Of course not. 1

But then again, I was never quite normal. I was strange, different. Heck, I took pride in being different. Guess it was time to pay the piper. 2

Trembling fingers slid to my door handle, gripped it tightly then shoved it open. Swift movement in the backseat told me the person hidden there had guessed my intentions. 3

But I was faster, tumbling out onto the hard ground. I rolled as fast as I could, until I managed to get my feet under me and run. One thought overwhelmed my mind: "GET AWAY."
I sprinted away, sneakers pounding as fast as I could force them to. But even over the bass thumping of my heart, I could hear footsteps behind me...  4

Heavy footsteps.
I stumbled into a deep hole. Fuck. Crab hole, scrambling up over the edge I raced along the side of the road, toward the grid a good 20 meters back.
The red light from the moon highlighted everything, whites turned blood red, silver, metallic brown.
The perfect horror scene. 5

This made the next part distinctly surreal. 6

The man didn't continue to chase me. he didn't hunt me, he didn't brandish a weapon or even fear as a weapon, he just stopped, right there in the moonlight, arms spread, a sheepish grin slowly working its' way across his face. 7

His voice, when he spoke, was surprisingly kind and pleasant. Then again, it may have had more to do with the words he spoke than the voice in which he said them.8

"I guess jumping in your car down at Blinman wasn't the best idea..." he joked. I stared at him, shock working its way through my system.
He'd been in there since Blinman? And when had he found the time to jump in the car? I'd only stopped for petrol and... Ah.
"You got into my car when I was napping!?" I shrieked.9

He chuckled, a surprisingly disarming sound.
"If it makes you feel any better, I’m a monk. I’ve taken vows of celibacy and chastity. There couldn't have been less ill intent from a fluffy little kitten."10

I was quickly learning that trying to dislike this man was somewhat like eating applesauce with a butter knife. Technically possible, but difficult in the extreme. 11

"There are monks in Australia?" I muttered and glared at the marble like gravel beneath my feet, mixing with the red sand from the side of the road.
He chuckled un offended by my muttered disbelief.
"There are" his voice warm and friendly had me peeking up.
"So why, where? were you hitching a ride... Mr Monk?" I asked my tone suspicious though I was barely managing to keep a grin off my face. 12

"Vatican city" he said matter of factly. "You know, where the pope lives. Oh, and I heard that bono might be building a mansion there too."13

I chuckled, but did my level best to cover it.
"Uhm, I think your geography skills might be a little weak mister...?" He didn't answer, just stared at me for a minute.
"Did you ask where, or why, I was hitching a ride?"14

The chuckle broke free; I couldn't restrain it any more. 15

“Probably both actually” I laughed “so what was your name?” I asked, managing to keep a straight face for a few seconds. "Delaney" he held out his hand "Robert Delaney"
I shook his hand and laughed.
"Well Robert, you are in the wrong part of the world mate! Vatican city is..." I thought a moment then grinned self mocking, "A long way from here."
"You should be on the other side of the world" I arched an eyebrow. 16

"Aye, I should, and yet I’m not. So I suppose my vacation can wait. i get the feeling you need, or will soon need help."17

I arched the other eyebrow, symmetry changing the expression from puzzlement to surprise.
"Help? I don't need any hel-"18

That was when the 69 Camaro roared into the rest stop just long enough for a passenger to put a blast from a shotgun into the radiator and engine compartment.19

"-p..." 20

"Not my car!!" I yelped and, to Robert’s obvious disbelief I started running toward the car like a mad hen protecting its chicks.
"You bast-" I was knocked over by a heavy weight crashing into my back, knocking me to the ground.
My reward. A mouth full of gravel and white dust as the Camaro speed away like a bat out of hell, with a spin of its tires and a spray of gravel.
"-ards...." I finished on a growl. 21

And so we found ourselves trudging around, all of my earthly belongings distributed between us.
My poor, sweet, harmless, car. She never harmed a soul, never a single foul word or behaviour...22

stupid assholes.23

Nobody screws with my car. 24

Nobody. 25

The silence of the outback was tangible, almost peaceful, if it weren't for the fact that at least two mad hatters where driving around shotting people's car's with shot guns.
I shook my head. It almost sounded funny, and it probably would be ten years down the track when I got over my terrible lose. I felt a tear prick my eyes.
My poor little car.
Robert began to hum. It was a comforting melody, almost familiar some how, as we trekked through the bloody dark. 26

I soon recognized it as (brace for the stereo typicality) Dancing Matilda or Waltzing Matilda as it was truly called. Typical, the only Australian song any visitors ever seemed to know.27

And so we trudged. And as we did, Robert began to explain how he had arrived in Australia...28