“So how do we get back to Sydney?” Greg asked as they stepped out into the overcast morning.

“We drive,” Gina said blankly.

“In that thing?” Fenny sighed.

“Got a better idea?” Paul grumbled.

“How long will it take to get back?” Brad asked.

“Two to three days I imagine,” Gina replied.

There were various grumbles as they approached the aged car, which was beginning to look more and more decrepit as they went along.

“Who’s driving?” Fenny asked. She looked at the others then raised her eyebrows. “Don’t really need to ask, do I,” she added.

“Well, Braddles can’t steer, Greg can’t use the pedals, I’m still suffering a headache, and Paul just can’t,” Gina mused.

“I don’t mind,” Fenny announced as she unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat. Brad sat beside her and offered to be navigator. He grabbed the map but couldn’t unfold it.

“Do you want me to help you?” Fenny asked.

“I can do it,” Brad scorned and grabbed the top bit in his mouth, and used his good hand to free the rest up.

“Ingenious,” Fenny said to no one in particular.

Greg was already in the back seat and Paul and Gina looked at each other, Gina let out a sigh and slid into the middle, while Paul let out a pained hiss of breath as he sat beside her.

“Have you got enough room?” Gina asked, looking at Paul pitifully.

“Darlin’, it wouldn’t matter how much room I had, I’d still be in fucking pain,” Paul sighed and rested his head against the window.

“On that positive note, are we ready?” Fenny asked.

“As we’ll ever be,” Gina nodded.

Fenny started the car and edged out of the hospital car park. Every time the car jolted, Paul let out a groan and it made Fenny feel terribly guilty.

“So what’s the quickest way?” Brad asked.

“Let’s have look.” Gina leaned forward and grabbed the map. “Well, if we can get to Port Pirie…we can go on to Broken Hill and then it’s pretty straightforward from there.”

“Ok, Port Pirie it is,” Brad perked as Gina handed him back the map.

They travelled for a few kilometres in silence, the only sound the rattle of the car, Brad’s fiddling with the map and Paul’s occasional pained gasps.

“I miss my radio,” Fenny announced, trying to lighten the mood.

“I think if I sang my spleen might split,” Paul mused.

“So the Medicare ad isn’t appropriate then,” Gina perked. Paul smiled as Gina started singing, “I feel better, so much better now.”

“Oh we’ve been chased around Australia, it hasn’t been very fun. We’ve had to wrestle with the heat and the barrel of Ritza’s gun. Paul’s had his head kicked in, Gina met a wall, Brad copped a bullet and Fen lost her cool,” Greg announced hoedown style. “But thanks to Gina’s heroics and the loss of the odd car, we’ve escaped with our lives, no matter how fucked up they are.”

“I’d give you points, but they just don’t matter,” Brad smiled.

“Speaking of cars? What happened to mine?” Gina asked.

Paul, Brad and Greg looked at each other.

“I’m not sensing a positive vibe here,” Fenny mused.

“What did you do to it?” Gina asked, looking from Paul to Greg and back to Paul.

“It wasn’t so much what we did to it,” Paul said sheepishly. “It’s missing the wheels and the engine…a bit.”

“How can you miss the engine a bit?” Gina shrieked.

“At least you have the shell. My parents’ car is in various burnt bits between Queanbeyan and Melbourne,” Paul hissed and then winced.

Gina’s face fell and she placed a comforting hand on Paul’s thigh. “It’s only a car, right? Just another inanimate object. There are more important things in life.”

“I think a car’s pretty important,” Greg interjected.

“More important than your health?” Gina cussed. “Oh, I guess that’s true in your case.”

Greg frowned and sunk back into his seat.

“Good one Gina, now he’ll be a grumpy bastard all the way back to Sydney,” Brad grumbled.

“Well, it’s less nauseating than when he’s being sappy,” Fenny pointed out.

“That’s right, pick on the guy when he’s down,” Paul cussed.

Greg looked at Paul surprised. “Thanks, Paul.”

Paul gave a small grin. “I mean he can’t help being a self-obsessed, jealous, inbred, sarcastic egomaniac. It’s what makes him unique.”

Greg looked furious as the others tried not to snigger. Gina suddenly wished she wasn’t stuck between him and Paul.

They spent the god-awful long trip to Port Pirie attempting to amuse each other with various anecdotes. There was Brad’s streaking across a stadium at 4am with his arse painted pink. Paul’s series of stories that all seemed to involve him falling over blind drunk with his pants around his ankles. Fenny shared her experiences with “life drawing” classes. Gina went over the finer details of her wedding, much to Greg’s chagrin, and Greg tried to tell as many awful stories about Paul as possible. Everyone thought they were hilarious, though, including Paul.

As twilight fell again, they entered another deathly quiet outback town. Granted Port Pirie was bigger than the others had been, and the quality of the accommodation was far better, but it was still not a city with all the essential needs of a bunch of city dwellers.

“Looks like there’s a storm rolling in,” Gina announced as she slid out of the car after Paul.

“Storm, like thunderstorm?” Fenny asked.

“Unfortunately yes,” Gina nodded.

Brad looked at Fenny amused. “You’re not seriously scared of thunder?”

“Maybe just a smidgen,” Fenny said sheepishly.

“Genie pisses her pants every time there’s a clap a thunder,” Paul jeered.

“Yes, thank you for sharing that,” Gina scorned.

“Are we going to stand here all night?” Greg asked.

“Not if there’s going to be thunder,” Fenny quipped and led the way into the hotel.

The woman at the reception desk looked at them with bewilderment.

“Don’t ask,” Paul mused.

“We’d like some rooms for the night,” Brad perked.

“Certainly,” the woman muttered and flipped several pages of the book in front of her. “How many?”

“A double and….” Brad’s voice trailed off and he turned to the other three.

“Make it four doubles,” Gina interjected.

“Four?” Paul queried.

“I don’t know about you, but I want to sprawl out,” Gina announced.

The woman placed four keys on the counter. Fenny grabbed them and handed them out. “So, I guess we either see each other or it’s goodbye until morning,” she sighed.

“I’m going to go fall in a heap,” Paul announced, taking his key and heading toward the stairs.

“Well do it carefully,” Gina called after him.

“That sounds like a good idea, actually,” Fenny yawned and leaned into Brad.

“But I’m not tired,” Brad whined. Fenny looked up at him oddly. “Oh,” he added.

They departed for the stairs and Gina and Greg followed. “Gina…” Greg began.

“Don’t even think it,” Gina said coolly and quickened her pace.

Paul opened his hotel room door, dropped the keys on the floor and fell face down on the bed. He’d spent all day trying to convince himself it wasn’t that bad. But the truth was he had never hurt so much in his life. He rolled onto his back so he wouldn’t suffocate, closed his eyes and took deep breaths. All he could think of was that he now had the appropriate material to write country songs. “Well my wife up and left me, she left me for a man, but what hurts most all, is he’s an American. I got myself beaten up, by a woman from outta town, and now all I think of is my darlin’ in her wedding gown.” Paul laughed at the prospect of becoming the next Willie Nelson and then wished he hadn’t as the pain gripped his abdomen again.

“No,” Fenny cussed. “BRAD,” she squealed as he attempted to undo her jeans with one hand.

“What? You’re turning me down?” Brad gasped, sinking onto the bed.

“You’re injured, you’ve had surgery. I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to be, you know, right now,” she scolded.

“What are you, my nurse?” he huffed.

“No, just the woman who loves you.”

“Oh really? You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” he spat.

“Excuse me? I’ve done nothing but fret over you since you got shot,” she gasped.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he scorned.

Fenny looked at Brad flabbergasted. “I can’t believe this, I never thought you were such a pig!”

“Yeah, well I never thought you were so frigid,” he retorted.

“Screw you,” she hissed as she stormed into the bathroom.

“ISN’T THAT WHAT I ASKED FOR,” he yelled after her.

Greg couldn’t believe Gina had been so cold toward him. Every time they made a bit of progress, she’d go all weird again. He’d stopped wearing his ring, asked to her to come to LA, and told her he loved her. What more could he possibly do, other than have Paul assassinated? He figured his only hope was that Gina and Paul could still go through with the divorce. Well, it wasn’t like either of them had said otherwise. Greg grabbed his crutches and struggled up from where he’d been sitting on the end of his bed, and decided to go down to the bar. If he wasn’t going to get laid, he might as well get wasted.

Gina looked out of the window. The clouds had moved in fast, and low rumbling could be heard in the distance. She didn’t like the idea of spending the night alone during a thunderstorm, but what was the alternative? Greg who seemed to think she was his? No, she’d tough it out under the covers alone.

There was a loud clap of thunder and the lights flickered.

Gina grabbed a pillow and held it to her chest. Hey, things could be worse, right? The wind began to wail, rattling the windows and rain pelted the roof.

“It’s just nature, doing its thing,” Gina muttered and crept off the bed to switch the television on. The only channel she could get had a newsreader that was prattling on about “severe thunderstorm warnings.” She decided that was definitely not helping, and as she leaned forward to switch it off again there was another loud clap of thunder and the lights went out.

Fenny dressed hurriedly in the darkened bathroom and discovered being glasses- and light-less made trying to find the door extremely difficult. When she did find the door, it opened so fast she nearly fell into the room. Fenny adjusted her glasses and saw Brad’s silhouette at the window. She had hoped he’d gone out or something.

“There’s a blackout,” he announced bluntly.

“No really,” she sarced, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m just saying, there’s need to be a bitch about it,” he huffed.

“What is wrong with you?” she declared as she staggered through the dark.

“Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with me. Don’t you get it, I don’t want to be bloody mollycoddled,” he snapped.

Fenny felt tears prick her eyes. So much for the “doing what I can because I love you” thing. “So sorry I care, Brad,” she hissed. “Don’t you want me to worry about you?”

There was another clap of thunder and Fenny cringed in the dark. Brad turned from the window and wandered back through the dark until he heard a peep and realised it was Fenny.

“Of course I want you to worry about me. I just can’t handle being treated like an invalid,” he sighed as lightning flashed outside the window.

Fenny decided she didn’t care and wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest.

“I’m such an asshole,” Brad breathed, using his good hand to stroke her hair.

“Yes you are,” was her muffled replied.

“I don’t really think you’re frigid,” he continued.

“I still think you’re a pig,” Fenny grumbled, holding him tighter as a large clap of thunder cracked above them.

“I deserve that,” Brad sighed and planted a gentle kiss on top of Fenny’s head.

“Stop being so adorable, will you, I’m trying to hate you,” Fenny said, lifting her head.

“I’ve been a bad actor, spank me,” Brad cooed.

Fenny was glad it was dark and he couldn’t see her smile. She guided him over to the bed and made him sit down as she brought her lips lustfully to his. Brad was shocked. He hardly deserved her love, but he wished he could use his other arm. He lay back on the bed as they kissed. Fenny’s hands unbuttoned his shirt and worked on his jeans, his free hand crept under her shirt and caressed her soft skin. The thunderstorm and blackout were completely forgotten.

Gina was trying to convince herself it would pass soon, but so far she just wanted to hide under the bed. She almost relaxed when there was a knock at the door. At least she hoped it was a knock. She hopped off the bed and stumbled through the dark to unlock it. Leaning uncomfortably against the frame was Paul with a candle.

“I stole this from reception,” he announced.

“So I see,” Gina replied, realizing she was still cuddling the pillow.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

“Fucking terrified,” she replied.

“Well isn’t it lucky I’m too much in pain to sleep,” he announced as she moved aside to let him in.

Gina took the candle and put it on the bedside table. She noticed it gave a soothing glow to the room. Paul wandered over and fell onto the bed.

“I told you to do that carefully,” she scorned as she clambered onto the bed beside him.

“Hey, what’s a little bit more pain,” he jeered, gingerly sitting up. “I’m surprised Greg hasn’t rushed to your aid.”

“Aid? No, I think he’s one confused man at the moment,” she sighed.

“Prick teaser,” he mused.

She let out a gasp. “Don’t be disgusting.”

“Sorry,” he sniggered.

“He wants me to go to LA with him,” she announced.

“LA, fuck. Are you gonna go?”

“I don’t think so. I can’t go with Greg when I’m still in love with…” she stopped and looked at the pillow in her arms.

“In love with what? Chocolate? The centre half back for Geelong? That guy you see on the bus on your way to work?”

Gina smiled and looked back at Paul. “You’re such an idiot.”

“But you love me.” He smiled back.

She fiddled with the pillow nervously. “I guess the question here is, do you love me?”

“Let’s think about that question. I’ve gone halfway ’round the country, nearly been blown up, had the shit kicked out of me, and you’re asking me if I love you,” Paul declared.

“So do you?” Gina persisted.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Paul sighed.

Gina leaned forward and gently brought her lips to Paul’s. He gave a small, and then ignored the pain as he grabbed the pillow and chucked it on the floor to pull her as close as he could without wincing. Gina fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

“God, just rip it off,” Paul gasped.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she breathed.

“It’s gonna hurt a lot more in a minute,” he grinned and kissed her again hungrily.

The thunder moved into the distance as the rain softened and the candle flickered, the flame growing in the soft breeze.