G'Day USA

by Tony McFadden

  I trotted toward him. The last thing he expected. He made a mistake and took a half step backward and I lunged and swung.

  I’m not stupid enough to punch his head with my fist. There are tons of tiny bones in my hand, and smashing him in the skull would break most of them. So I hit him with my right elbow across the bridge of his nose.

  His head snapped to his right and he spun with it. When his back was to me I brought my elbow back and caught him at the base of the skull. He fell forward with a grunt, landing hard on his knees. I stuck a foot on his back, between the shoulder blades and pushed. He must have been stunned by the shot to the neck. His hands stayed by his side and he landed on the wooden floor face first with a soggy crack. If I hadn’t broken his nose before, I had now.

  I placed my left foot on the back of his neck and pressed. ‘Stay still, jerk-wad. The cops are on their way.’

  He started shaking. I thought at first he was crying and was about to lay into him about being a pussy when I realized he was laughing. At me.

  I pressed a little harder, grinding my heel into his neck. I really hated this guy and it was only the knowledge the police might be here soon that kept me from killing him.

  Yet he laughed harder. ‘What’s so funny, shit-dick?’

  ‘You think,’ he gasped, trying to talk through the laughter. ‘You think you’ve won.’

  ‘Who’s foot is on who’s neck?’

  He tried to turn his head. He was smiling. What the fuck? ‘I know something you don’t know, bitch.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I’ve got a knife.’ He twisted to the right and swung his hand back, Ann’s blue-handled knife in his hand. It entered my right calf muscle and tore and I collapsed with the knife stuck in my leg. ‘Who’s winning now?

  I swallowed, trying to keep my head straight. There were no major arteries where he stuck me, I don’t think. The pain was almost unbearable. I fought the urge to spew. I looked down at the incongruous blue handle of the knife sticking out of my leg. The amount of blood on my jeans was disturbing.

  Kent struggled, pushing himself up off the floor. Blood and snot poured out of his nose mixing with the blood from his infected, cut cheek.

  He leaned over and pulled out the knife, slowly. I clenched my teeth. I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of hearing me scream, although I almost passed out. He stood and walked around, flipping the knife like it was a baton, or a drum stick. My blood flicked off the end of the blade.

  I supported myself against the wall and pushed myself to my feet, putting all my weight on my left leg. Blood dripped off my foot on to the floor.

  Kent circled, flipping the knife. ‘Not so shit hot now, are you?’

  I put my hands up, surrender-like. ‘You’re the man, Kent. What do you want from me?’

  ‘I want you to die. I’m going to cut your throat. I’m going to do that last. You’ll have so many holes in you the Swiss will induct you in the Swiss cheese hall of fame.’ He flipped the knife again. ‘You’ll have so many holes in you, you’ll be mistaken for a colander.’ He sniffed and wiped the bloody snot off his nose with his arm.

  He took another step toward me and flipped the knife one last time. I reached out and grabbed it, cutting a finger in the process. He grabbed at me and we struggled for the knife. He ended up holding me from behind and started squeezing, hard. I couldn’t breathe. I felt that tingling feeling you get at the end of your nose just before you pass out. My vision was reduced to spots. I was fading fast. With the last of my strength I adjusted my grip and drove the knife into his groin as hard as I could, and collapsed on the ground on top of him. The last conscious words I remember, just as I was passing out, came from Perkins.

  ‘Fucking hell, Sampson. What the fuck is all this?’

  A very handsome young man had my pants off.

  I surfaced to the land of the aware while Studly McParamedic applied a compression bandage to my calf. I let out a whimper. It still hurt like hell.

  ‘You’re awake. Excellent.’ I tried to sit up. ‘No, no. Don’t move. I’ve got some pain relief.’ He ripped the paper packaging off a plastic, green whistle-shaped tube. ‘Do you have asthma or any other breathing difficulties?’

  I shook my head and raised myself up on my elbows. ‘You’ve got those things here, too?’

  ‘You’ve used them before?’

  ‘Dislocated a collarbone surfing when I was much younger. Tastes like crap. But I thought they were only in Australia.’

  ‘We’ve had these for a while now. So you know how to use it?’

  I nodded and stuck it in my mouth and took a sharp inhale. ‘After I dislocated my collarbone this green plastic baby kept me from going nuts on the ambulance ride.’

  It was about six or seven inches long and had a flattened tube on one end I had to breath through. The taste hadn’t improved, but the efficacy had. A general numbness poured over my body after three or four breaths. I seemed to remember it took more than six before, but maybe it was because this time I hadn’t eaten since morning. I licked my lips trying to get rid of the taste. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I’m taking care of your leg. It looks like you’ll be hobbling around on crutches while this heals, but I don’t think you’ll have permanent damage. You might have a bit of a scar when it’s all healed up.’

  I croaked, licked my lips and tried again. ‘Something to remember this by. How is Ann?’ I looked around and couldn’t see her. A pair of medics were working on an unconscious Kent, his pants also cut off and a fair bit of blood on the floor around him.

  ‘Ann?’

  ‘The homeless looking lady. She was on the floor over there. Wasn’t doing too well.’

  ‘She’s on the way to the hospital with your friend, I think she said her name was Cathy. Are you related to Ann?’

  ‘Let’s say she’s my Aunt, okay?’

  He raised an eyebrow but had the decency to not question me. ‘Your Aunt has a slightly fractured skull, a couple of broken ribs and a possible punctured lung. But I think she’ll be fine. She was conscious and lucid when we put her in the ambulance.’

  I sat up. ‘Whatever it costs, I’ll pay for it. Top quality care. You make sure people know okay?’

  ‘Lie back down. You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be. And yes, I’ll pass the info on. But you can, too. You’ll be in the same hospital.’

  I slumped back. Perkins poked his head in. ‘You okay?’

  ‘You believe me now?’

  ‘Believed you for a bit more than a day. You should have listened.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have had the evidence you needed to convict this asshole if I turned myself in when you wanted me to. You should thank me.’

  He laughed. ‘Maybe. We’ll see if the guy lives.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘He’s missing a testicle, and lost a lot of blood. You did a good number on him.’

  I leaned back and closed my eyes. ‘What took you guys so long. Samson got the phone call, right?’

  ‘Getting into your apartment to get the password. We couldn’t just kick the door down. We needed a warrant. And then the building Super took his own sweet time getting the key. Another minute and Sampson would have put his size twelves through the door. Thank God Stanfield was with us, because both Jacob and I didn’t have the slightest idea you could track your phone. That’s going to come in handy.’

  I opened my eyes and took another puff of magic dust. I looked around and took stock. My last stand. Fighting in real life was nothing like in the movies. I hardly used anything the Seal taught me. No chance.

  An army of CSI type people, none of them looking like they were from a TV show, swarmed into the house doing their techie stuff. Kent was still flat on his back to my right, paramedics stabilizing him before transport to the hospital where, I hoped, he would be handcuffed to the bed and kept under constant guard. I could see the blue handle of Ann’s knife, covered in his and my blood, on the far side of his prone
form. ‘Don’t you think you should secure his knife?’

  Perkins looked up from his notebook. The never ending flipping of pages. ‘What’d you say?’

  ‘The knife.’

  ‘Needs to be processed. That’s for the crime scene boys and girls. I’ll take your statement about what happened and it will of course involve the knife, but I’m not touching it.’

  Sampson walked in. No Lisa.

  ‘Where’s the pooch?’

  ‘I can’t bring her in here. She’ll contaminate the scene. You doing okay?’

  I held up the green whistle. ‘Fan-fucking-tastic. You?’

  ‘I’ve had better days.’ He took Perkins by the arm. ‘I overheard most of what went on over the phone. I can help you with the statement and Ellie can fill in the blanks when she’s ready.’

  I smiled and put my head back down. I was tired. ‘Thanks Jacob. Much appreciated.’ I lifted it up again. ‘Make sure Ann is okay, right? After the medical stuff is sorted there’s some mental stuff she needs help with. I’m her insurance program. Whatever it costs I’ll pay. I owe her so much.’

  ‘I’ll make sure.’ Jacob nodded at Perkins. ‘You want the statement now?’

  I heard a groan and looked over at Kent. His eyelids fluttered. And he inhaled a sharp breath. The paramedics scrambled to check vitals. He opened his eyes, looked to his left, stared at me straight in the eyes and bellowed something incomprehensible. He scrambled for the knife and swung it at me.

  Time dilation is real. Everything shifted to slow motion, like my life was suddenly a John Woo movie. Doves should have flown by.

  Sampson scrambled for a gun he didn’t have, him being off duty. Perkins struggled to remove his; the restraining strap on the holster was still clipped and he was losing valuable time.

  I gripped the green painkilling whistle, thumb over the end and swung it with every fiber of my strength, driving the tube end into Kent’s left eye. It squished and bounced off his eye socket and his clear eyeball fluid mixed with blood. His follow through with the knife had no strength behind it. It hit me on the boney part of my chest, which many will tell you is the entire chest, but didn’t do more than scratch.

  I looked at the stunned paramedic. ‘Can I have another one of those green whistles? Mine’s kind of icky.’

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The waves curled nice at Warriewood. Not huge, but big enough for Ellie.

  Late May was kind, the temperature in the high twenties and not a cloud in the sky. An onshore wind added to the fun.

  Cathy, Charlie and Ann sat around a table at the beachside cafe, eating their lunch, drinking beer and watching Ellie surf.

  Ann picked at her chicken Caesar. ‘A world away from reality. I can’t believe it’s been almost three months.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I never knew Australia was so beautiful.’

  Cathy took Ann’s hands in hers. ‘You feeling okay?’

  ‘Never better, really. Is she always like this?’

  Charlie watched Ellie catch a particularly good wave and ride it in. ‘Like what? Carefree, not a problem she can’t handle just taking life as it comes? Pretty much.’

  ‘Not that. She’s virtually adopted me. Paid all my med bills, got me some fantastic mental health help, and has brought me to this beautiful place.’

  Cathy nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s her.’

  Ellie walked up the beach, board under her arm, wetsuit stuck to her body. Charlie smiled. Life was indeed good.

  ‘What are you guys looking at?’ She parked the board against the railing and sat with her friends. She pulled a towel over her shoulders, kissed Charlie and looked at Ann and Cathy. ‘Everything okay?’

  Ann nodded and Cathy held up a finger. ‘I’ve got a couple of questions.’

  Ellie opened a beer and sat back. ‘Fire away.’

  ‘I still don’t get it. What the fuck was wrong with Kent?’ Ann slapped her lightly on the arm. ‘Sorry, what the heck was wrong with Kent?’

  Ellie took a deep pull of beer. Surfing worked up a thirst. ‘Aside from the deep-seated pathological sociopathic tendencies? Sweeney intentionally broke his foot to get him to limp properly in Beast of Bondi. He’d thought it was an accident for the last three years. He heard about it on my interview with Kevin Pollak. Sorry, my “conversation” with Kevin Pollak. Something snapped. He thought I knew and I’m pretty sure he thought Charlie knew, too.’

  Charlie stopped his beer halfway to his mouth. ‘Yup. No idea why he’d think that.’

  ‘He told me he was going after you once he finished with me.’

  ‘Fu - ’ he looked at Ann. ‘Damn.’

  ‘Not much better, young man.’ She smiled. ‘But thanks.’

  Cathy winked at Charlie. ‘I’ve got a follow-up, Ell. What’s the deal with you and Charlie here?’

  ’It’s a thing. We’ll see how the thing goes. He’s apparently had a crush on me since he first met me years ago. That kind of devotion a girl could get used to.’

  Charlie blushed, to the amusement of the ladies around the table.

  Ann yawned. ‘My clock is completely out of sync. What time is it in LA?’

  Cathy looked at her watch, squinted and counted off on her fingers. ‘5:00 pm. But I’m not sure if it’s today, yesterday or tomorrow.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, people. You’ll be adjusted in a couple of days and it’ll be like you’ve been here all your life. Beautiful, isn’t it?’

  ‘Isn’t it coming up on winter? When does it get cold?’

  ‘This is a bit warmer than usual. Wait until July, though. It’ll get pretty cold.’

  Cathy picked at the label on her bottle. ‘So why are we here? I mean, the vacation away to get clear of the paparazzi is all well and good, but why do I think there’s an ulterior motive?’

  Ellie looked at Charlie and smiled. ‘There is. I’ve got a small script. Friend of mine just up the road wrote it. We’ll stop by and have a chat with him after lunch. It’s about two sisters,’ she pointed at Cathy and then herself, ‘in a coming of age story. Cathy, you’re finished with the Shakespeare thing, Charlie here is a hell of a director and Ann is, I’m told, a financial wizard. We’re all also producers and I’ve got some local financing lined up. We’re going to make a movie.’

  She looked around the table at her friends. This was what she wanted to do. She wanted to make movies to tell stories. No big blockbusters. Just some friends getting together to tell a good story.

  <<<<<>>>>>

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Tony McFadden left Canada two decades ago and has spent the bulk of the intervening time consulting for wireless operators throughout South East Asia. Now enjoying the relaxed lifestyle of coastal Australia he has embarked on a second career, writing mystery, suspense and thriller novels.

  “G’Day USA” is his fifth novel.

  Also by Tony McFadden

  NOVELS:

  Matt’s War

  Book ‘Em - An Eamonn Shute Mystery

  Family Matters

  G’Day LA

  SHORT STORIES:

  October Moon - An Eamonn Shute Short Story

  Whack Job - An Eamonn Shute Short Story

  Find more about him at www.TonyMcFadden.net