Greg had downed more than a few drinks in the hotel bar, Ryan had had a couple, and Colin was stone cold sober.

“Guys, I hate to break the mood, no matter how unpleasant it is, but don’t you think Brad, Wayne and Chip have been gone a bit too long?” Colin asked.

“They’re not kids,” Ryan hissed.

“No, no, Col’s right. They were supposed to be here at least ten minutes ago,” Greg nodded.

“Three hours, actually,” Colin said pointedly.

“Maybe they went to the movies or something,” Ryan shrugged.

“They would have called. Guys, I’m worried. Ritza’s already had a go at Greg, who’s to say she hasn’t caught up with them?” Colin babbled.

“Nah, they’ll be right,” Ryan mused into his beer.

“They’ll be right? My god you’re turning into an Aussie,” Colin scorned and snatched Ryan’s beer away from him. Ryan was too jetlagged and drunk to argue.

“Excuse me, are you Greg, Colin, and Ryan?” asked the bartender.

“Who wants to know?” Greg slurred.

“Yes we are,” Colin sighed.

“Message for you,” the bartender nodded and handed Colin a note.

“What’s it say?” Ryan asked.

“Mr Proops was lucky. Shame the Negro, the pretty boy and the weird one weren’t. Four down, three to go. Watch your backs, boys,” Colin read.

“Oh shit,” Ryan breathed.

“She killed them,” Greg sobbed.

“She hasn’t killed them,” Colin sighed.

“She has, they’re all dead,” Greg wailed.

“Oh, sober up,” Colin hissed.

“I liked Brad. Chip was great. Wayne shit me, though,” Ryan announced miserably.

“THEY’RE NOT DEAD,” Colin yelled, causing the other patrons to quiet down.

“Then where are they?” Greg asked.

“That, my friends, I plan to find out,” Colin stated. “Are you with me?”

“I’m with ya buddy,” Ryan perked and slapped Colin on the back.

“I don’t think I can walk,” Greg mumbled.

Colin screamed internally. “Greg, drink some coffee. Ryan, come with me, we’ll try and find a rental car.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Ryan grinned.

Colin closed his eyes and counted to ten.

“I think all my ribs are broken,” Wayne groaned.

“I wish it were my ribs that were broken,” Chip moaned.

“Jesus, where are we?” Brad asked.

“How the hell should I know, I’ve just regained consciousness,” Wayne spat.

“No need to be tetchy,” Brad scorned.

Chip rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his knees, which was quite a challenge when your hands were tied behind your back and your whole body ached.

“It looks like a barn or something,” Chip panted.

“We are in real shit,” Wayne breathed.

“Hey, I think I can get my feet free,” Brad announced, and after a bit of twisting, he managed to kick off the rope from around his feet. The rope around his wrists was still too tight.

“Do you think the others will be looking for us?” Wayne asked.

“They won’t even know where to start,” Chip sighed.

“Unless one of us tell them,” Wayne beamed, looking at Brad.

“Just because my feet are free…I wouldn’t even know what direction to go in,” Brad scorned.

“Come on, buddy, you’re our only hope,” Chip whined.

“Oh great, lay a guilt trip on me,” Brad mumbled.

Wayne gave Brad a ‘lost child in a supermarket’ look and Brad gave in. He stumbled to his feet, leveled himself with the door and took a run up. It took several tries before the door swung open and Brad staggered out.

“Sure you don’t want to come with me?” he asked.

“We’re not going to get very far jumping,” Chip said matter-of-factly.

Brad gave his friends a pitiful look, kicked the door closed and began to run.

He ran until he fell to the ground, gasping for air, and had a major stitch in his side.

Colin had managed to get a car. Well, actually, it was a monster 4X4. He was actually enjoying the invincible feeling it gave him, and felt himself struggling not to yell out things like, “Outta my way,” and, “The road is mine.”

Greg was passed out on the back seat and snoring loudly, and Ryan was playing endlessly with the radio.

It wasn’t until half an hour later that Colin realised he didn’t know where he was going and pulled over to check the map.

Brad lay in the grass on the side of the road. He hadn’t seen a car, not one. Was this where his life was going to end, amongst the grass, gravel, and burnt out rubber of Australia? Then something dawned on him; he had his mobile phone. It was in his pocket. Somehow Brad managed to get the phone out of his pocket by wriggling around and nearly dislocating his shoulder. He unlocked it using his chin and dialed using his tongue.

“Hello,” Ryan perked.

“It’s Brad, helphelphelphelphelp.”

“It’s Brad,” Ryan gasped, looking at Colin.

Colin snatched the phone. “Brad, where are you? Are you ok?”

“We got caught by Ritza’s heavies. They beat the crap out of us and chucked us in a barn or something. I escaped, though.”

“So where are you now?” Colin asked.

“On the side of the road somewhere. Hold on, there’s a road sign…ahh, it’s only the sign for an abattoir,” Brad breathed.

“Abattoir,” Colin gasped and thrust the map into Ryan’s hands. “Find an abattoir,” he demanded.

“Oh my god,” Brad gasped when the penny dropped.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can. Just hang in there,” Colin babbled and hung up.

“Found it. It’s about 30km from here,” Ryan announced.

“Keep giving me directions and hold on,” Colin breathed and slammed his foot down.

Brad ended the call with his chin and then rolled back onto his back.

“Beat that, McGuyver,” he mused.