Kimberly, Conner and Franklin
“Everybody okay?”, asks Conner.
We all hop out and survey the damage.
“Poor thing.”, says Kimmy.
“Kimberly,”, says Conner, “fuck the kangaroo, look at the damn car!”
“I know, but…what was that?”, says Kimmy.
Conner hesitates, “Gunshots, I think.”
“Hunters maybe?”, I add hopefully.
“Maybe.”, says Conner, “Sounds like it came from down that way. We should probably check it out.”
“Why would we want to do that?”, I ask him.
“For one,”, he says, “hunters don’t normally use automatic weapons. And two, somebody might be hurt.”
“And three,”, says me, “the people getting hurt could be us.”
“Okay, you two stay here and I’ll---”
“No, you’re right.”, interrupts Kimmy, “Let’s go.”
Not wanting to appear a total wuss, I fall in behind and we walk in the direction of the gunshots. There’s no road or trail or anything, but in about twenty minutes we come upon a house, barely visible behind all the mulga and eucalyptus. As we approach, we can hear music and it looks like there’s someone sitting on the porch.
“Oh my God!”, says Kimmy, and we all stop dead in our tracks. A man with a rifle is staggering toward us smiling and singing. He fires a shot right over our heads and Kimmy screams louder and longer than I would have thought humanly possible. We should be running, but for some reason all three of us are frozen where we stand. The man lets out a crazy laugh, fires another shot in the air then just drops to his knees and falls on his face.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God!”, says Kimberly.
Conner and I walk slowly toward the guy. Conner kicks the rifle aside and I bend down to check his pulse, then jump back as the man lifts his head, smiles and tries to sing again.
“Play your didgeridoo, blue…”, he chokes and spits.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God!”, says Kimberly.
“Keep playin till I shoot through, blue…” he manages, then conks out. Kimberly comes up behind me and grabs me around the waist. She’s trembling and crying, clearly terrified.
“I’ve seen this movie.”, she whimpers, “Can we please leave now?”
I bend down to check for a pulse again and Kimmy bends down with me, she won’t let go. Conner checks his phone and, of course, there is no signal. He looks at me and I shake my head to indicate that this gentleman is no longer with us. Conner picks up the rifle and starts walking toward the house.
“They must have a phone that works.”, he says.
“Conner,”, I whisper, “they definitely have guns that work”, but I may as well have been talking to a tree. He cocks the rifle, almost as if he knows what he’s doing, and just keeps walking until he’s standing directly in front of the person sitting on the porch.
Shit, I’m thinking, I’ve seen this movie too.