Maddy Rockx by Rex Johnson - HTML preview

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Chapter Fourteen,

Unaware of Gutsy’s escape, Pearl collected the passengers from Maddy and drove them to the ‘Hogs Head Inn’ for breakfast before heading to the sties.   

Once fed, the passengers filed back onto the double decker.   

Julio escorted May-lee up the staircase to sit at the front of the open-top deck; some of the passengers followed and took their seats at the rear of them.      

After sitting, Julio leant close to May-lee and whispered. “A leisurely trip through zee magnificent desert, what better way to spend a day?”  

May-lee gave him a meek smile and regretted agreeing to accompany him. Julio’s overbearing attention was weighing her down and the sooner this scenic tour was over the better.

With everyone comfortably seated, Kristy sat in a seat opposite Pearl, picked up a microphone and spoke. “Well folks, we are about to go on an adventure I’m sure you will enjoy... we will start with a scenic drive through the beautiful Mallee desert that has an abundance of native flora and wildlife. Pearl will stop at a high ridge for you to absorb the panoramic views from an elevated level. Afterward it will be off to the pigsty tour... the drive to the ridge will take about half an hour, so sit back relax and enjoy.”  

Pearl drove along the scenic route until they arrived on the top of a high ridge. She parked the bus in a perfect position for everybody to admire the breathtaking view. A large basin, covered with thick Mallee scrubland and gentle sloping red sand dunes, spread like a mural across the landscape. The sight overwhelmed the passengers. Some left the bus to stand on the cliffs edge; others stayed on the top deck.     

Below the ridge, Chopper saw Pearl and pulled the Ute to a halt.

He grabbed the two-way radio mike. “Chopper to Pearl, Chopper to Pearl, over,”

“Pearl receiving over,”

“We have a problem, Gutsy’s gone missing,”

“I read that, any assistance required? Over,” 

“We think he may be hold up near one of the caves below the ridge. If you could keep an eye out and let us know if you spot him,”

“Roger that, over,”

“Thanks, over and out,” Chopper concluded then jumped from the Ute to address Jordie & Mitch who had pulled up beside them.

“We’ll split up boys... you head off around that bend at the far side of the ridge,” he pointed toward a corner, about two kilometers from where Pearl was parked. “If you see him, herd him back toward us.”

“What about the dogs, can they come with us?” Mitch asked thinking that a bit of protection wouldn’t go astray.

“Naw, they’re only along for the ride,” Chopper said. “Besides, they’re useless,”

“That wasn’t the answer I was hoping for,” Mitch whispered to Jordie, who rolled his eyes, then slipped the buggy into gear and drove off.

“Ya reckon we’ll spot him?” Mitch asked as they disappeared around the bend.  

“I hope not,”

“Me too,”

After a time, Jordie came to a sand dune and eased up. The rear wheels spun; he felt them sinking and stopped.  

“Don’t stop, gun it!” Mitch screamed, not too keen on being stuck halfway up a sand dune if Gutsy passed by.  

Jordie revved the engine to its peak, then dropped the clutch. They roared to the top of the dune, soared through the air, and landed hard on the other side. “Yaahooo!” they yelled.

Jordie spotted another sand dune and sped for it. They hit, became airborne then raced toward another and another, screaming as if they were on a highflying rollercoaster ride. This they decided was better than chasing a gigantic boar which could inflict severe damage on them.

On one of the airborne flights a squealing piglet darted beneath them and out the other side.

“Look!” Mitch yelled. “Follow that piglet,”

The buggy landed, Jordie hit the brake, performed a perfect broadside and planted his foot.

They charged across the desert, hurtling over sand dunes, hot on the heels of the piglet, as it squealed and zig-zagged ahead. It darted through the scrub, jumping over broken branches looking for safety. Finally, it ran through a high walled gully and came to a dead end at the bottom of the ridge.

With nowhere to go, it turned to confront its attackers.

“We’ve got him,” Jordie hit the brake.

“What do we do now?”

Dunno,

Now seemingly trapped, the piglet sent them an angry snarl; its eyes glaring, tiny tusks gleaming.

“A mini Gutsy,” Mitch laughed.   

The piglet let out an almighty squeal; then with a great deal of courage and optimism, lowered its head and charged.

It hit the buggy, jolted backward, shook its head, and charged again.   

“Is he for real,” Mitch chuckled as the piglet hit and hit and hit again.

Finally, Jordie had had enough.

“I’ll get the hell outta here before it kills itself!” he pumped the clutch, reefed the gearstick into reverse and planted his foot... wrong gear. They powered forward, the piglet charged, they hit. There was a momentary silence; the piglet shook its head, staggered, and toppled over. 

“You’ve killed it!” Mitch roared, “Get outta here before Gutsy arrives!”

“I’d better check on him.” Jordie jumped out and raced to the front.

The piglet lay motionless on the ground. Jordie bent down and felt it, “he’s still breathing,”

“Leave it, Gutsy might turn up,” Mitch screamed, tremors ripping through him at the thought.

“Naw, we’ll take him back.” Jordie picked the piglet up and laid it in the back.  

He was about to climb into the driver’s seat when he felt a warm gust of wind and shivered. It felt as if someone or something were breathing down his neck. He turned... emerging from a thicket of scrub in the front of a cave was the horrific sight of a snorting Gutsy. His gigantic frame threw an intimidating shadow across their path. His eyes glared, snout flared, and large tusks gleamed. A low gurgling grunt rumbled from his throat.  

“Get rid of the piglet!” Mitch screamed, too late, Gutsy charged. “Get the hell outta here!”

Jordie jumped in, fired the buggy and hit the gas. He did a three sixty, sped back through the gully, with Gutsy in hot pursuit.

Mitch looked over his shoulder, “Ooh shit,” he turned toward Jordie and screamed, “Mooove, mooove,”

Jordie pushed the accelerator to the floor, they hit a sand dune and flew over. Gutsy hit and powered straight through; the dune exploded into a cyclone of dust.

“Shit, has he got a rocket up his arse?” Mitch screamed as Gutsy loomed; so close they could smell his putrid breath.

Realizing there was no escape, and there was a chance of them being gored beyond recognition, Mitch prayed for a miracle. And one came in the form of a whooping Denny, riding hard on his twanging motor bike. He yahooed alongside, eyeballing Gutsy, “Hi ho away I go!”  

They charged across the desert, reached the corner of the ridge and fishtailed into the straight. Another sand dune loomed, they hit and sailed over. Gutsy powered through, hooked the rear of the buggy with his tusk, and with a jerk of his head, flipped it. The buggy spun full circle. Jordie gripped hard to the steering wheel, Mitch clung to the roll bars, and the piglet shot through the air. It hit the back of Jordie’s head, bounced off, and just as they landed, plonked onto Mitch’s lap. They all squealed in terror, petrified beyond belief as they continued on their terrifying way.  

On the ridge, the passengers were gob smacked. They had the perfect view of the action; it was as if they were looking through the lens of a director’s camera, observing the actors on a movie set.

“That pig’s got attitude,” a potbellied man laughed.

“He’s a mean son of a bitch,” his mate put in.

But there was more. Chopper had spotted them and tore through the thick scrub, with Clyde now standing gamely on the back of the Ute.

He pulled alongside, Gutsy head butted the Ute and Jordie took his chance. He pulled hard on the steering wheel, did a sharp turn and blasted into the scrub dodging trees and broken branches, until he came to a broadsiding halt. Denny continued to shadow Gutsy, keeping him close to the Ute while Clyde balanced on the back; one hand on the winch, the other holding the net. Gutsy charged the Ute like a rhino attempting to fend off its attacker, refusing to allow its tormenter victory. Chopper screamed at him to behave himself; no chance, Gutsy was pissed off. The twanging of the bike and Denny’s yahooing intensified his anger and he needed to inflict pain. On one of Gutsy’s charges, Chopper swerved to miss a tree stump. He hit a bump, Clyde lost balance and toppled off. He hit the ground with a thud. Chopper pulled the Ute to a broadsiding halt, as Gutsy continued on, charging through the scrub, with Denny hot on his heels. Chopper leapt from the Ute, saw Clyde sprawled on the ground gasping for air and raced to his mates’ aid.

Clyde attempted to lift himself, but fell back, “I can’t. b. breathe, give me air,”

“Me’ old mate’s chokin’!” Chopper dropped to his knees to give him the kiss of life, felt another surge of stomach gas, and instinctively burped. A putrid stench of stale hogs head cheese exploded from his mouth. It hit Clyde head-on. He shot upright, knocked Chopper into the dust, dry retched then ran his tongue across his teeth attempting to remove the after taste, “Phew,” he spat.  

A dejected Chopper sat beside Clyde glumly staring at the ground.

“I hope Denny finds me’ boy,” he moaned.

The roaring of the dune buggy snapped Chopper from his doldrums. He looked up to see the boys driving toward them with the piglet sitting on Mitch’s’ lap.

“Look what we caught,” they yelled.

“Gutsy’s little tike,” Chopper laughed and jumped to his feet. He raced over, grabbed the piglet and tickled it under the chin.

“Gitchy, gitchy goo,” he chuckled... and as the piglet lovingly licked Choppers face Jordie & Mitch dry retched.