23 – Fear and Loathing in Australia

“We’re stopping? Why are we stopping?” Fenny yawned from her half asleep position on the back seat of the SUV.

“Because I can’t stop shaking,” Gina replied as she pulled the car to a stop on the side of a barely there dirt road. “I have just recently seen my husband pummelled.”

“Wish I had,” Fenny mused before she was struck on the arm rather abruptly with a street directory. “Ow, what hell was that for,” she groused, rubbing her slowly bruising arm.

“Because I’m not liking your attitude,” Gina scowled, still brandishing the heavy Gregory’s.

“Well you shouldn’t have let them get me drunk then, should you,” Fenny frowned. “How come they didn’t do it to you, anyway?”

“They fear me, Fen,” Gina shrugged. “They fear you as much as a puppy with a full belly.”

Fenny let out a huff. “Were they really hurt?”

“Yes, Brad was bleeding, Pauly was bruised and Greg was unconscious,” Gina said as she started chewing agitatedly on her thumbnail.

“Good,” Fenny nodded. “So long as they’re suffering.”

“Have you no compassion?” Gina scorned, dropping the street directory on the passenger seat.

“Apparently not,” Fenny mused, leaning back against the seat with Troy in her arms. “So, what’s the big plan then? What idiotic scenario is going to pan out this time?”

“I’m going to jump back there and slap you in a minute,” Gina frowned. “I say we wait until it’s dark and go back.”

“And do what, Gina? Stroll in and just wander back out with the guys?”

“That might work if I didn’t think you’d go arse up over a chair and wake everyone from Coober Peedy to fucking New Zealand.”

“Can’t be any worse than you getting an innocent bystander shot and killed,” Fenny shrugged.

Gina’s mouth fell open and her eyes narrowed. “Fuck you Fen. If you want to act like a child, fine, but I plan to try and do something.”

“Huzzah for you,” Fenny sarced as she got comfortable on the back seat again with Troy.

“Oh, and I’ll have my mongoose back, thank you,” Gina groused, sticking her hand between the seats.

“It’s not your mongoose, it’s Paul’s mongoose,” Fenny countered.

“It’s mine through marriage,” Gina retorted. Fenny let out a defeated huff and handed Troy over before she went back to sulking. Gina kicked the engine into gear and went in search of somewhere to hide until the cover of darkness.


“Paul,” Brad breathed as they lay together on the floor.

“Yes mate,” Paul replied, wincing as he spoke.

“Are we gonna die?

“I think so.”

“Oh,” Brad sighed. “Do you think it’ll be painful?”

“If the way I’m feeling right now is any indication mate, I think so,” Paul nodded.

“Ah well,” Brad breathed “At least we’ve have some good times.”

“That we have.”

“And if I must die, y’know, I’m glad it’ll be with you.”

“Aw, thanks mate.”

“Christ, could you guys be any more morbid,” Danny groused, his face appearing at the hole in the ceiling.

“My spleen is ruptured, Brad’s got brain damage and Proops appears to be dead,” Paul spat. “You try being optimistic.”

“Proops isn’t dead,” Danny scolded, looking at the American’s comatose form in the shadows. “Is he?”

“I’ll check,” Brad declared and reached a hand behind him. He found Greg’s chest and gave it several slaps. “Hey Proops, you dead?”

“Yep, looks like he’s crossed over,” Paul sighed when Greg didn’t respond.

“You wish, McDermott,” Greg announced, rather strained.

“You know me too well,” Paul mused and then coughed as pain racked his body.

“I have no desire to be reaquatinted with my loved ones by a man in a blue sweater and too much hair product just yet,” Greg groaned. “But thanks for the concern and all, children.”

“It’s the least we could do,” Brad mumbled as he put a hand on his forehead in a vain attempt to ease the throbbing inside his skull. There were a few moments of silence before Danny piped up.

“You blokes are a bunch of bloody whingers,” he chided as he sat himself in a position that allowed him to see clearly into the cellar.

“I’m sorry,” Greg scorned as he tried to move into a more comfortable position. “But bleeding internally doesn’t breed happy conversation about flowers and kittens.”

“You think this has been fun for me?” Danny groused as he started picking at the plaster.

“Remind me to get you to explain to me when I get out of a coma, how having your cock sucked by Amy—who despite the psychotic tendencies isn’t exactly butt ugly—is worse than having shattered organs,” Paul winced as he clutched his stomach rather pitifully.

“She’s been nowhere near my penis, thank you,” Danny frowned. “Besides, it’s your own stupid fault for trying to be heroes.”

“Well if that’s your attitude,” Greg sneered. “We’ll leave you in her fucking clutches next time, ungrateful bastard.”

“Next time?” Brad gasped. “What next time? Hello, we’ve already established we’re going to die.”

“What happened to your fighting spirit, guys?” Danny sighed. “I thought you could take on anyone?”

“Do we look like we can fend off evil right now?” Paul scowled breathlessly.

Danny looked down at the three beaten and bleeding men and realised they had a point. “So, do you object to being buried down there once you’ve bled to death or would you prefer somewhere in the garden?” he mused and received a barrage of expletives for the effort.


It was obscenely dark when Gina gently parked the SUV back at the ramshackle old house. She squinted out of the window and was surprised to see that none of the other vehicles had returned yet.

“She’s not back,” Gina said to herself as she was still ignoring Fenny. “Why isn’t she back?”

“Maybe she stopped off to get take out?” Fenny suggested. “Unless she wanted tacos, which your country doesn’t seem to sell.”

“You say the most useful things,” Gina groused, glaring into the back of the darkened SUV at Fenny.

“Just making an observation,” Fenny shrugged before yawning.

Gina shook her head and refrained from lobbing things at her head. “So, are you coming with me?”

“Why would I want to do that?” Fenny sneered, crossing her arms. “I’m quite comfortable here.”

“You don’t want to make sure Brad’s ok?”

“No, like I said before, I hope he’s in immense pain.”

Gina let out a frustrated huff before clambering out of the SUV. “Once I’ve found out Paul is ok, we’re having a serious talk, young lady.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” Fenny replied sarcastically as the door slammed. “Miserable cow,” she breathed and lay back on the seat. Her head was feeling much better and her stomach has ceased churning, but Fenny still felt angry that Brad would be so cruel as to get her drunk. Even worse was all the embarrassing things she could barely remember she’d done. The strained memory of slurred karaoke kept taunting her as she grabbed Troy from the passenger seat. “I don’t know what’s worse, my mongoosey friend, the hangover or the humiliation that goes with the hangover?” She pouted at Troy a moment. “And what type of man gets his wife drunk for his own entertainment, huh?” Troy’s eyes continued to stare back, cold and black. “My ex one that’s who!”


Gina gently counted the windows until she came across the one that led into the room they’d escaped into from the cellar. She grabbed hold of the old wooden pane and gave it a push upwards. With her breathing resonating in her ears she gave it another push and it moved easily. “Brilliant,” she whispered before pushing back the curtain and being forced to silence her own scream. In front of her stood a well built man in a balaclava.

“What the fuck are you doing,” came his breathless reply as he rolled up the balaclava.

“Dan, Jesus fucking…” her voice trailed off as he helped her into the room. “Are you ok?”

“I’m dandy,” he said deadpan. “And before you ask, he and the other two are down there,” he added, motioning to the hole in the floor.

“Are they ok?” Gina asked, creeping toward the hole.

“I don’t know,” Danny shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

A look of shock crossed over Gina’s face before she kneeled and looked down the hole. She saw the three figures in the dull cellar light. They were all still, bloody and looking the worse for wear. “I’m going down there,” she declared and swung around so her legs were dangling through the hole.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Danny cussed. “What if Amy comes back?”

“I don’t care,” Gina groused and slid through the hole. She dropped onto the dirt floor just missing Brad’s feet and cussing as pain ripped through her ankle.

“If you’re gonna kill us, do it quick,” Brad mumbled.

“Now where’d be the fun in that?” she mused as Greg and Paul stirred. She scurried over to Paul and dropped to her knees.

“Genie,” he groaned and tried to sit up, wincing as he did. “What are you doing here?”

“One woman rescue party?” she shrugged, trying to be strong, but in the end just wrapping him in her arms despite his protestations and whimpers of pain.

“This would be comforting if it didn’t hurt so much,” Paul mumbled into her hair.

“Where’s Fen?” Brad asked, realising something was missing, that something being his wife.

“Being childish and waiting in the car,” Gina sighed. “She does hope you’re in immense pain though.”

“Oh,” Brad mumbled, his face falling. “I thought she might’ve come with you.”

“Yes, well, thanks to your guys’ little prank last night, she’s in the blackest mood I’ve ever witnessed from the women,” Gina groused. “I’ve had to stop myself slapping her more than once.”

“If you do,” Greg mused, “can we watch?”

“And can you wear bikinis when you do it?” Brad continued.

“And will you do it in a kiddies pool full of jelly?” Paul smiled before the three men broke into pained laughter.

“Nice to know at least one part of your anatomy remained unscathed,” Gina sighed shaking her head.


“Come on Gina,” Fenny mumbled, still laying on the back seat of the SUV. “I’ve got a craving for tacos now.” She paused and listened to the stillness of the night, it was silent, and then a noise filled the air. It was only brief but it made Fenny sit up and glance out of the windows in front of her. She couldn’t see anything and concluded it was just some sort of absurd Australian wildlife. She went to lie back down when the door behind her was yanked open and she found herself pulled outside. A hand clasped firmly across her mouth stifled her strangled scream and stayed there until she passed out.


“So, how do you plan to get us out of here, huh?” Paul asked as he leaned against Gina.

“No idea,” Gina replied, stoking his hair as she wracked her brain for some semblance of a plan. “But going back through the ceiling hole is totally out of the question.”

“Yeah, I think that might just kill us,” Brad agreed from where he’d propped himself against the closest wall.

“I don’t care so long as we go somewhere with shampoo,” Greg sighed, seeing as how he’d spent most of the day with his head on the dirt floor.

“Oh yeah Proops.” Paul sarced. “Your flowing locks are vital to our survival.”

“Hey, if I have to die, I want to die with nice hair,” Greg countered as Danny’s face appeared at the hole.

“I heard a car,” he announced. “I think they’re back.”

“Shit,” Gina cussed, not wanting to leave Paul.

“Can I curse too?” Paul asked and Gina nodded. “We’re fucked, we’re totally fucked, we’re totally and utterly fucked!”

“Well, that was confidence building,” Brad chided before they fell silent.

“They’re very quiet if they’re home,” Gina whispered. “What’s happening Dan?”

“No idea,” Danny whispered back as he pulled the balaclava over his head.

The group waited in nervous anticipation as the silence grew longer. They were beginning to think Danny was hearing things when suddenly the cellar door burst open.

“No,” Gina breathed and buried her face in Paul’s shoulder as she feared the worst.

“What the fuck happened to you lot!” a familiar voice boomed and they all looked to see Beven standing there perplexed. Ritza and another woman were standing just behind him.

“Dude, I’ve never been so happy to see you in my life,” Brad gasped as he tried to get to his feet. Beven hurried over and helped him and they shared a mutual look of relief.

“What happened?” Ritza asked, shaking her head and re-concealing her gun.

“We came back to rescue Romeo up there,” Brad declared and pointed to Danny who waved through the hole. “We got a tad ambushed.”

“Christ,” Beven sighed as he turned to help Greg up. “We’ll have to get you lot to an infirmary.”

“Ah, just have us put down,” Paul mused as he was helped up by Gina. He let out a small yelp of pain. “Where’s a joint when you need one.”

“Who’s your friend?” Greg asked, holding onto Beven to stop himself collapsing back on the floor.

“Claudia,” Paul sneered as he and the French women exchanged bitter glances.

“That’s her?” Gina gasped and glared at the woman.

“Hey,” Ritza chided. “I’ve got dibs on killing her.”

Claudia shook her head and said something in French.

“So who are we missing?” Beven asked looking around the room. “Where’s Fen?”

“Waiting in the car,” Gina replied as she guided Paul toward the stairs.

“No she isn’t,” Ritza said quickly. “There’s only one black SUV out there and it was empty.”

“Oh Jesus no,” Brad gasped shaking his head. “Maybe you just didn’t see her.”

“Maybe she went to pee?” Gina suggested lamely. “Oh god!”

“What?” everyone said.

“She had Troy with her!”

“No, not my mongoose,” Paul wailed. “I’m having a really bad a day,” he added huffing.

“Fuck the mongoose,” Brad shrieked. “What about Fen?”

“You’re right,” Paul nodded. “She better look after my fucking mongoose!”

“Boys, calm down,” Beven ordered and no one dared argue. “Let’s get out of here and then we’ll work out what to do yeah?”

There was a reluctant agreement and they all marched slowly out together. Once they were safely out of the cellar, they were greeted by Danny.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked, looking almost frightening dressed in black and holding a gun.

“We find Fen,” Beven replied. “I want you to stay here and find out what you can, ok? Can you do that?”

“Sure,” Danny nodded. “So long as they don’t find out I’m not Sean.”

“You’ll be fine, I promise it wont be for much longer,” Beven smiled and patted Danny on the back. “We’ll get these Stooges some medical attention and go from there.”

“Yes sir,” Danny perked, feeling suddenly very important.

“Be careful,” Gina ordered and gave him a quick hug before the group piled out into the night air.


It took the group (minus Danny and Fenny) just over an hour to find a small, slightly inadequate hospital. Beven helped Greg into a seat and glanced at Brad and Paul who looked just as bad as a nurse appeared looking shocked.

“What’s happened?” she asked, looking bewildered.

“Tour group accident,” Beven announced sternly. “Those two fell off rocks, the short one lost a fight with a kangaroo and the blonde’s sprained her ankle.”

Gina looked up sharply not expecting to be brought into the conversation and gave Beven daggers.

“Right,” the nurse nodded. “I’ll see who’s available,” she added and disappeared from the tiny waiting area.

“I don’t need to see a doctor,” Gina cussed, ignoring the tightness of her boot around her once again swollen ankle.

“I say you do,” Beven chided as the nurse reappeared with a couple of other nurses and a doctor.

“Would you come this way, sir,” a nurse smiled warmly as she helped Greg to his feet.

“I’ll try, but if I collapse, don’t help me,” Greg groaned, getting to his feet.

“Go with him,” Beven ordered, looking at Ritza as another nurse went to Brad.

“Hi, fancy meeting you here,” Brad declared lamely as he smiled at the nurse. She blushed and giggled as he got to his feet.

“We’ll just get you settled in before the doctor takes a look at you,” she beamed.

“Settled in, huh?” Brad chided and Beven rolled his eyes.

“I’ll go with him,” he sighed and motioned for Claudia to follow them. She went reluctantly.

The original nurse appeared in front of Paul and Gina. She looked at them both curiously a moment and then brightened up. “Right sir if you want to come with me and madam you can…”

“I’m staying with him,” Gina said quickly and held his hand tighter than she already was. “I’m his wife,” she added.

The nurse nodded and the group of three headed into the same ward as the others. Greg was already being examined by the doctor and having his head uncomfortably prodded, while Brad was sitting on his bed chatting to Beven. Paul was guided to a bed which he gingerly lay on. Gina still was refusing to leave his side.

After about 45 minutes and lots of whining, it was decided that Greg had managed to avoid a concussion and was lucky to not have a fractured skull. He was given some pain killers and soon dozed off into a restless sleep. Paul was thoroughly bruised and the doctor was rather shocked when he admitted it was about the fourth time he’d had the same injuries. Gina had a severe ankle sprain and was ordered off it by the doctor as he wrapped a tight bandage around her purple foot, and Brad was generally sore and sorry, with just a couple of stitches needed in the cut on his head. A much larger scar was just noticeable through his hair, causing the doctor to flinch.

It wasn’t long until everyone minus Beven and Brad were asleep or dozing. The men fell into whispered conversation.

“So why’d you bring Claudia?” Brad asked, looking over at the French woman who was curled up asleep in a chair.

“Because I think she’s what Amy really has a beef with,” Beven breathed. “I say think because the whole situation is warped beyond belief.”

“You’re not wrong,” Brad agreed. “I hope Fen’s ok.”

“You didn’t seem to mind when you were chatting up that nurse earlier,” Beven chided before stifling a yawn.

“Reflex action,” Brad breathed as he moved in an attempt to get comfortable. “Although, seeing as how she was hoping I was in immense pain, there’s the possibility she just up and left us.”

“With the mongoose?”

“Well, wouldn’t you take it to piss of the little man?”

“Good point.”

“So, what’s the plan now, huh? How do we retrieve my wife and defeat the Wicked Witch of the West Coast?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” Beven winked as he stretched out in his chair and closed his eyes.

Brad glanced around the room at the sleeping forms of all his friends before focussing his attention on an air vent in the ceiling. Unlike the others, he couldn’t drift off to a comfortable sleep. Not when he had a horrible, gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach which centred around Fenny’s possible whereabouts.


Fenny opened her eyes and was greeted by dark, blurry shadows. A strange sickly feeling seemed to be hanging over her body and she had no desire to know why. She felt around trying to locate her glasses and squeaked when a hand gripped hers and slid the familiar metal frames into her hand. Fenny gingerly slipped on her glasses and swallowed. She was resting on a rather unhygienic mattress in what looked like a barn.

“Finally, you wake,” a voice declared and Fenny nearly jumped a mile when she saw who was perched on the side of the mattress.

“Sean,” she breathed, recognising the man they’d dumped unceremoniously in the bush a few days ago.

“What the fuck did you lot think you were doing?” he groused, getting to his feet.

“Saving our asses, actually,” she grumbled and then paused before sitting up. “Hold on, what happened to your Texan accent?”

Sean studied her for a moment and then reached into his pocket and chucked something at her. Fenny picked up the small leather wallet and had to do a double take.

“Eric Houseman,” she breathed. “FBI!”

“Yeah, I’d been undercover infiltrating Amy and her little group for a while now. Built up a nice trust, too…”

“You were fucking her,” she countered.

“Trust me, she ain’t all that,” Eric mused. “What I want to know is what she’s got against you and your friends?”

“I don’t know that I’ve had enough therapy to tell you that,” she groaned and lay back down.

“Well I don’t have any immediate plans,” he smiled as he set about boiling some water on a small log fire. “Entertain me.”

“It’s pretty demented,” she declared, sitting back up. ”Where would you like me to start?”

He turned to her and pondered a moment. “How about with the rat,” he replied motioning to Troy who was perched on the end of the mattress.

“It’s a mongoose,” she said curtly. “And his name is Troy.”

“Y’what now?” Eric gasped, looking at her oddly.

“Told you it was demented,” Fenny mused, grabbing Troy and lying back down. “Don’t suppose you’re au fait with Scottish drug lords at all, are you?”