Red Dirt by E. M. Reapy

Author:E. M. Reapy [Reapy, E. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781784974664
Google: TCtxCwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B016YJPJC4
Publisher: Head of Zeus
Published: 2016-06-01T16:00:00+00:00

THEM

Them. Hopper had to get them to a town in the middle of nowhere. A bag of MDMA caps from a motorcycle gang in Adelaide. An eleven-hour train to David P and the buckos. Hopper was no dealer. He was a delivery man. A thousand dollars for this run. That’d set him up for a move to Perth.

David P’s hostel was great, mad so it was. A converted hospital out near the forest. Big common room. Few sexy looking women from around the world. A machine for cold drinks, another one for sweets and crisps. A bad swimming pool that Hopper was warned not to jump into because it was full of glass at the bottom where they’d smashed their bottles.

David P offered Hopper a pint of goon to warm up.

Hopper wouldn’t turn it down with these new people, though they’d all get along in a while, he knew that much, when they’d fucking be in love with each other, buzzing off each other. But until that happened, a drink would help. Sometimes Hopper got embarrassed. People had big ideas and words and lots of them finished school or went to college. Lots of them could read good. Even the heavies. He didn’t want to be thick around them, didn’t want them talking about him. Hated people talking about him all the time.

David P poured a Fruity Lexia and looking at the back of the box said real loud that it was a ‘delicate and fruit driven wine with luscious aromas and a sweetness on the palate.’

Fruit, wine, sweet.

Hopper thought they wanted him to say something back. Something smart. The way it went quiet after that.

So he goes, ‘Sure this here is modern love. Pills and goon.’

And everyone went calm, stopped moving, stopped their lives. Hopper felt a shake coming into his hand. They were looking at him and he got scared they’d take the piss out of him but then in a big mad group they looked at each other and they laughed. Laughed for ages. Patted him on the back. Told everyone else that passed. Said he was a witty bastard. He was real clever. He was a hero.

A fucking hero.

About four goons in, they dropped some of the caps. Super strength. Very good shit.

The night went ntz ntz.

Hopper and Irish. Look at them here in Australia. Bunch of legends.

‘Love you.’

‘Love you more.’

Ah fuck.

‘Do you know where I’m from?’

‘Do you know me cousins?’

‘Who do you know?’

‘You don’t know anything.’

The night rocked, rolled, raved, rode.

Dark skies. Pink skies. Morning skies.

All of a sudden, it was Saturday, like it had passed in a minute.

‘It’s way too early to skag?’ Hopper said to David P. ‘What ya reckon, we keep it going for the whole weekend?’ If he didn’t mind Hopper staying, the Adelaide bikies shouldn’t mind much either.

David P nodded yeah, okay, and Hopper nodded dead on.

They dropped more caps. Buzz. Jaw. Mouth. Heart. Feet. Hands to the sun. Moving, moving. Inside the music. All morning. Remix. Hardhouse. Trance. Hear this, hear this.

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