End of the Ocean by Matthew McBride

Author:Matthew McBride [Pinter, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Polis Books

Kerobokan

After several drunken days and many methamphetamine-fueled nights, and after the Molly he had done at Kuta Beach Club the previous night, all Grady wanted to do was sleep.

Now, sitting in an elegant hotel in Nusa Dua, on the balcony of his room, relaxing with a warm cup of tea, eating a cool bite of pitaya, he had never been more tired; nor had he ever seen a more splendid view of the city, and as tired as he was, part of him could sit there all day, taking it in: the motorbikes and the people and the ocean behind them.

He sat deep in his chair and reflected. Lately, things had gotten strange. The day before he thought he had been followed. He wasn’t sure. It could have been the pharmaceuticals, the lack of sleep or nervousness from the impending job, but he was pretty sure he’d seen the same man behind him two different times, in two different places, on two different sides of the island. Then he got sidetracked and did not think of him again, until he saw two poliza in front of his hotel, talking to the manager and valet, like they might be asking questions. It seemed suspicious, at least to him. Grady was cautious. He kept riding.

Perhaps it was the drugs, perhaps not, but smuggler’s intuition told him run. He carried his passport with him at all times, along with some cash and a few grams of methamphetamine he kept in a camera case with a false bottom. He had everything he needed. He left his clothes behind, he could buy new ones. He switched hotels, which led him to his current hotel, with the balcony and the view. That had been yesterday, and last night he had done Molly at the Kuta Beach Club: dancing, rubbing, molesting an Australian woman to the sounds of dubstep bass until he lost her in the crowd.

Massaging his temples, he looked at his watch. Took a sip of tea. He would switch hotels again tomorrow. Try to get a hold of Djoko. But first, sleep. The bed looked very soft. It called to him in a voice only a man who had been without sleep for three days would know.

He set his teacup on the table and leaned back in the chair and thought about a shower.

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