Mr Johnson, I don’t see how any of this is relevant.
Bear with me, lady, I’m getting there... So, this spotty little wanna-be gangster was leaning out the window. He looked so stupid that I couldn’t stop myself laughing at him. I mean, you’ve seen the type, you must have – baseball cap, gold necklace, hoodie, aviator sunnies, yadda yadda yadda.
Please, Mr. Johnson…
Okay, okay… This teenage homie had his hands cupped to his mouth, right? “Fight!” he was yelling. But he drew it out, like he was ringside at the wrestling or the boxing, or like he was a Roman enjoying a bit of blood sport.
“Fiiiigggghhhtttt!” he yelled.
And then the Commodore kept on up the hill. Now, I didn’t think there was anything weird about what the kid had said. I mean, kids say the dumbest things. So I just hopped on the buggy then started heading back. There wasn’t much else I could do. I didn’t feel like chasing him myself, there weren’t any speed cameras in the park, and even if there had been, the cops had much bigger things to worry about. You know what I mean?
I memorised the Commodore’s plates, though. That way I could give it a good kicking if I saw it in the car-park.
Anyway, I was halfway through cruising down the hill when another hoon nearly hit me head-on. I swerved aside, almost rolling the buggy, and he just kept racing up to the peak.
This was a different car from the Commodore you had seen earlier, correct?
Lady, haven’t you been listening? The Commodore passed me on its way up the hill while I was by the stand I’d been planting, then I started cruising down the hill, and that’s when I almost got hit. Jesus, after everything we’ve been through, you could at least pay attention. For fuck’s sake…
Please, Mr Johnson, there’s no need to get upset. We need the simplest picture we can get, that’s all.
Okay, okay… And, um, I’m sorry.
Thank you, but no need. Now, please, continue.
Okay… Well, like a fool, I just dusted myself off then kept on down the hill. A dozen or more cars passed me, and I hugged the roadside to stay out of their way. It wasn’t all bad, most of them weren’t hoons and rev-heads. Some of the cars had whole families in them: mum and dad and the kids and the dog, sometimes with uncles and aunties and grandma and grandpa following behind. Some were driven by childless couples, or mobs of students, or bunches of mates. Some, of course, were rev-heads and hoons. They were blasting heavy metal or hip-hop, and yelling out, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”
What a pack of dickheads.
About halfway down the hill, some idiot had tried to force his car past the one in front. This idiot was in a four-wheel drive, and had gotten himself stuck between the steel guardrail lining the road and the car he’d tried to push past. Both cars had ended up wedged together, a huge brick of metal and plastic blocking the way. As I watched, the idiot in the four-wheel drive wound down his window then half-slithered and half-fell out.
He got to his feet, looked around then started running up the hill.
“What’s the rush?” I yelled.
“The fight, man, the fight! We’re missing it, come on.”
He disappeared from view, rounding a bend only a little way up the hill, leaving his car behind.
You had no idea what was going on?
None. It seemed like everyone had just gone crazy.
What did you do next?
I helped the lady stuck in the hatchback. She was trapped and freaking out, you see – the four-wheel-drive was stuck fast, and some idiot had stuck his head in the passenger’s window and was abusing her for blocking the road. The traffic backed up behind her was snaking down the hill, shining bright in the summer sun. Every car horn seemed to be blasting. It was mental, and all the poor girl in the hatchback could do was cry and cry.
I snapped, hauling away the idiot who was abusing her then throwing him to the ground. He looked at me darkly – I tensed up, thinking he was about to have a go at me. Now, I’m not much of a fighter and I’m no tank, but I guess I must have looked really pissed, because this idiot just got to his feet and started running up the hill, same as everyone else.
I let him go. “Need some help?” I asked the lady in the hatchback.
She nodded, numb and shocked, and kept crying.
“Hey, it’s okay, love – they’re gone. Do you need a hand?”
She shook her head, pulled herself together, unbuckled her seat-belt then stepped outside. “Thanks,” she said, and held out her hand. “I’m Lee.”
This is Lee Hamilton that you’re talking about, correct?
Yeah. Poor little Lee… Ah, the poor girl…
Mr Johnson?
…
Mr Johnson, are you okay?
Just, just give me a sec. Please.
As you wish.
…
Take as long as you need.
…
Whenever you’re ready.
God, that poor girl… Sorry. Sorry that you had to see that – I don’t usually cry in front of people… Shit… I just wish, you know, sometimes I just wish…
Ah, never mind, it is what it is. Where was I? Right, so I’d just helped Lee out of her car and walked her to the buggy, pushing through the crowd that had formed – all those people whose cars were stuck behind the four-wheel-drive and the hatchback, they’d decided to hoof it.
“Are you okay?” I asked Lee.
“Thanks, Mister, but I’m fine.”
“Please, call me Johnno.”
“Oh, okay, Johnno.” She laughed a little, still a bit shocked.
“Do you know what’s going on?” I asked. “Is that why you’re here?”
She shook her head, an emphatic ‘no.’
“Well, actually, I tell a lie,” she said. “I do know what’s going on, but that’s not why I’m here. I just got stuck in the middle of it on the way to meet some friends.”
“In the middle of what?”
Her eyes literally bugged. It was the weirdest thing. “So you really don’t know?”
This time, I shook my head ‘no.’
“Wow, I’d love to see your rock.”
I bristled at this. That’s the right word, yeah? Anyway, I shook it off as Lee answered.
“There are things fighting,” she said. “Fighting in the city. It’s all over the radio, the TV, the web. That’s why everyone’s here, I guess.”
***
How do you react to something like that? I mean, beasties fighting in the city? Come on, pull the other one. I figured it must have been a hoax or prank or something like that.
You were unaware of the other attacks, both here and overseas? I find that hard to believe, Mr. Johnson. After all, they’ve been happening for quite a few years.
Give me a break, lady, I’m not that stupid, of course I knew about them. Hell, before I was a gardener I used to help get rid of the bodies. I just couldn’t believe one had finally shown up here, let alone two.
Anyway, before I had a chance to let it all sink in Lee looked at me and smiled. “Thanks again,” she said. “I guess I should go and find my friends.”
She turned away and started up the hill. I stood there for a minute, not sure what to do. Part of me wanted to follow after her. Can you blame me for being curious? I wanted to see what was going on, to see if what she said was true. But another part of me wanted to just jump on the buggy, cut across the grass and go home. I like my mountain when it’s empty, not when it’s chock-full of people.
Obviously, I followed after her. Otherwise I’d be just another smear in the rubble.
Mr Johnson, please try and show some respect.
Yeah, yeah, sorry – it’s just hard not to be a bit blasé, after everything that’s happened.
I understand.
Right, sure you do… Anyway, I followed after Lee. Jesus, you should have seen the way people looked at me – envy, jealously, they all wanted what I had. I was riding the buggy, you see. Fuck walking. If you spend most of your time on
your feet, you learn to take it easy when you can. And the road leading up the hill was clear, the blocked traffic behind me. All I had to contend with were pedestrians.
Most of them were huffing and puffing, the summer sun beating down on us all. Most of the guys were in shorts and t-shirts, most of the girls were either wearing the same or had frocked up in summer-dresses short enough to show a bit of cheek. I barely saw anyone wearing a hat. Hell, I barely saw anyone carrying water.
How stupid can people be? I’m no genius, but I never forget to slip-slop-slap, you know what I mean?
Mr Johnson, can we please get to the point?
Right, sorry. But the thing is, this is the point. These people, these idiots intent on ruining my nice, quiet mountain, they were totally unprepared for what they’d gotten themselves into. That’s why everything fell apart. I mean, what did they think it would be like? They weren’t going out for a lazy drive or to watch the sunset. They were going to watch two beasties destroy a city.
They should have known better…
Are you saying that they deserved what happened?
Jesus, lady, give me a break. All I’m saying is that if they’d thought about what they were doing, even for a minute, they might have realised it wasn’t such a good idea.
I mean, come on, ringside seats at something like that? Does that sound like a good idea to you?
Of course not.
Right, there you go. But those idiots… Hell, who am I to talk? I followed them, didn’t I? Actually, don’t answer that.
It wasn’t just out of curiosity or stupidity, you know? It was my park, and I had a bad feeling about how things might go down. Put enough hyped-up people together and bad shit always happens. Something told me that a cool head would be good to have around.
Anyway, I spotted Lee. She must have been pretty fit, because she was pretty-much leading the pack. I put my foot down – I was just about to lose sight of her, the road disappearing behind the tree-line that marked the start of the peak. The buggy strained, its rubber-band engine hating the climb. It’s always been a shit-heap.
So, I finally pushed through the trees then came to a stop. Fuck-me-drunk, there were people everywhere. For a sec, I just stood and stared.
“Hey, Johnno.”
I jumped, taken by surprise – Lee was standing next to me, almost bent in half, out of breath and wheezing. She must have snuck up on me.
“Hi, Lee.”
She smiled as she kept trying to catch her breath. Just like everyone else, she wasn’t carrying any water. She wasn’t wearing a hat, either. How do people do it? I had two bottles in the back of the buggy, so I twisted around, scooped one up then passed it over. She gulped at it while I looked around the crowded peak.
People were sprawled out on whatever empty patch they’d found, looking to the west and baking in the midday sun. Cars had been parked wherever their owners had liked, the grass churned up, the bare earth showing. Music was pounding, along with blaring radio coverage of the fight.
The fight. I finally remembered it. I looked behind me. Trees blocked the view of the city.
“Hop in,” I said to Lee. “We might as well see what’s what.”
“You got it.”
She passed me the half-empty water bottle and made herself comfortable in the cramped passenger seat.
I was distinctly uncomfortable, trying not to brush against her, trying not to touch her waist or her hips. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. But I can’t deny that it was nice – a long time had passed since I’d been that close to a woman, and I couldn’t help enjoying the tiny spark I felt when I changed gears and our arms brushed.
Poor Lee… That poor girl… I’m sorry… I’m… Just, just hang on…
Take your time, there’s no hurry.
Yeah, thanks… That poor girl… Shit, sorry, just hang on…
Okay, I managed to get the buggy to the top of the peak. It took a bit of effort, mind you, so I didn’t get a chance to check out the fight – weaving between parked cars and dodging pedestrians at the same time isn’t much fun. I had to keep my eyes on the road, so to speak, but I was definitely missing out – in my ear, the whole time, Lee just kept saying it over and over again:
“Shit shit shit shit shit.”
We finally crested the peak, and it was my turn to take a look. Now, I’ve got a pretty good imagination, and we’ve all seen the photos and the footage. But nothing – nothing – can compare to seeing those things with the naked eye. I mean, one of them was taller than every single building. It was this enormous centipede-looking thing, covered in spikes. It had reared up, the front half of its body towering over the skyscrapers. And the other one, far out – it was a squat ape-like thing, perched on top of some office building. It had these wings, which must have been as long as the city block.
The office building was slowly crumpling beneath it, collapsing in on itself, spewing dust and smoke. I guess a gas pipe had burst or an electrical fault had started a fire. The buildings surrounding it had already collapsed, and the city centre looked like it had been bombed.
But there weren’t any soldiers or tanks or jets, just these two enormous things slowly slugging it out in front of us.
You’re saying that there was no military presence?
None that I could see. Sure, they turned up after a while. But I must have watched that fight for a good couple of hours, and the whole time they were left to go at it. What happened? I mean, we’re talking about the fucking Army here. The Air Force. They’re supposed to be ready for something like this.
Well, what’s done is done.
That’s easy for you to say, lady, you weren’t there. You weren’t there when the military started driving the things our way.
I don’t know why they didn’t attack the things from the north – I found out this morning that everything south of the city centre had already been flattened, so why not just drive them back into the sea? Instead, they shot at them and bombed them and pushed them in the opposite direction, into suburbs that weren’t just fine, but also full of some of the poorest people in the city.
For fuck’s sake, why do that? I know it isn’t the prettiest part of town, but still, I thought they would have tried to save what they could.
Mr. Johnson, are you familiar with the acronym SNAFU?
Of course I am, I’m not stupid.
Well, then, that should explain everything. What happened yesterday…
Jesus, was it only yesterday?
Yes, it was. As I was saying, what happened yesterday was merely business as usual. Not only was the attack you witnessed the first to involve two UBOs appearing in the same place at the same time, but there was also a more-or-less simultaneous attack on Perth, out on the west coast.
Bullshit.
No bullshit, Mr. Johnson, as you would say. Panicked and overwhelmed soldiers are just like panicked and overwhelmed people: they make mistakes.
Well, this was a big fucking mistake. Do you know where some of those people from the northern suburbs ended up? Once all the roads out of town were jammed, I mean. Once traffic had stopped dead and the things just kept coming, once the army boxed everyone in with the things by mining the roads running east to west. Well, I’ll tell you – they ended up on my bloody mountain.
Maybe it was some primitive instinct that told them to climb. You get me? From way back when we used to shimmy up trees so we wouldn’t end up as some dangerous animal’s lunch. Hell, maybe there wasn’t any thought process involved. I don’t know.
But we watched them come. We watched the footpaths fill up, watched the mobs run and run and run. We couldn’t miss them – it seemed like most of them were heading our way.
It was fucking horrible, and all we could do was watch.
And so that’s what you did?
Yeah, that’s we did.
***
So, for a couple of hours we just watched those things fight. It was weird – they fought slowly. Maybe it was because
they were so big, maybe that meant that they couldn’t think so fast. Is that a stupid thing to say? Anyway, it was a bit like they didn’t know what to make of each other, if you know what I mean. But then, if that was the first time two of them had shown up in the same place at the same time, that’s not really surprising.
The centipede-thing would rear up, extending its spikes bristling. They were almost like arms – they moved back and forth, swiping at the flying ape-thing. Whenever it missed the ape-thing, it would come crashing back down, and another office building would collapse under it, shrouding both of them in smoke and dust. Whenever it hit the ape-thing, it gouged holes in its body and this bright-purple liquid that I guess was blood started raining down. And then they would wrestle or start biting at each other, slashing at each other.
The ape-thing sometimes opened its enormous mouth-beak-whatever and vomited this blue foam onto the centipede-thing. Whenever that happened, the centipede-thing would shriek loud enough that we could all hear it. Its flesh would bubble and bits would start to melt and fall off. It would let go of the ape-thing and crash back down. The ape-thing would take to the air and perch on top of an office building, and then they would just stare at each other.
Neither of them would move. They were like, I don’t know, statues or carvings. I timed one of these gaps in the fight, you know? Just for the hell of it. They stayed like that for a half-hour or so. They didn’t even move when some of the apartment blocks around them started collapsing. It was the weirdest fucking thing…
We Call It Monster Page 8
