Free Five Parts Dead by Tim Pegler Page B

ahead and panic. The others don’t care. I’m the only non-believer in a church full of happy-clappies. Their eyes glint with the spirit within, and I want out. Now. Please.
    But I say nothing. The guys, whooping out their windows. Phan, mooning a taxi loaded with tuxed-up debutantes. The Falcon, slashing towards a cement mixer, collision surely imminent. My breath, rapid and shallow. Can’t. Do. This. Gotta say something. Do something.
    I raise my voice—‘Hey Aaron.’ I can barely hear myself.
    The others are cheering Phan. The cement mixer, so close I can read the fine print on its crusty rear bumper. My voice, shrill with panic: ‘Aaron. Take it easy, man! We’re too close…’
    Aaron ignores me. Swigging from his stubby, he swings the car around the truck, where I can see that four lanes become three beside a tram stop.
    I’m stretching forward. Reaching for the handbrake.
    Too late.
    We hit the concrete wedge guarding the tram stop. The infamous Millennium Falcon actually flies. It soars towards a car coming the other way, bouncing across its bonnet. Tilts. Spears into a power pole with a crunch like an aluminium can.
    The laughter, testosterone tyre music, bull-roaring engine, whistling traffic, neon kaleidoscope blur…
    Stop.
    A moment of nothing.
    The Falcon sighs, dies. Its fluids spill away. Drip, drip, drip. The tick, tick, tick of hot metal. Footsteps outside. Unfamiliar voices. Frantic voices.
    Carlo starts to scream…
    A hand on my shoulder. I almost vacate my skin, whip away like a startled bat.
    â€˜Dan? Are you all right? Dan?’
    Stars and party lights pulse, blurring land and sky.
    â€˜Dan?’
    I know that voice…
    It’s Pip. Just Pip. Not some wraith coming to claim me, snatch me away and unite me with my mates. It’s Pip with her dreads tied back, her face pale.
    â€˜Dan, you’re shaking! What is it? What’s going on?’
    Pip squats beside me on the bank of the creek. How did I get here? Funny the things you notice when your head’s in orbit: she’s barefoot, there are little mirrors sewn into her skirt, she sparkles like the night sky.
    â€˜Dan! Do you want me to get Mel? What’s the matter?’
    I sink back into myself.
    â€˜I…umm, it got a bit too much. The music. The beer. It…reminded me of that night. The accident. I’m…not sure how I got down here, to be honest.’
    â€˜I saw you walk away from the fire. I thought I’d check out if you were okay.’
    â€˜Ta. Yeah…It was…shit. Like living through the whole thing again.’
    â€˜Dan…I’m sorry about before. I was…I should mind my own business. You’ve got your reasons for…’
    My mind struggles to hold steady. Thoughts dart like dragonflies.
    â€˜Pip, why do you reckon you and Mel are mates? I mean, she’s…Mel. She’s fun and all…you both are.’
    â€˜Dan! Did you take something? More pills?’
    â€˜Nope. Just…go with me on this, okay?’
    â€˜What is your problem?’ She sounds indignant. ‘Can’t I be friends with both of you?’
    â€˜No…I mean, sure. Be friends with anyone you like. It’s just that, I dunno, sometimes it’s like, you don’t have a lot in common.’
    She gives me that look I’m getting to know so well, the one where she tilts her head like a cockatoo and locks her eyes on me, one eyebrow arched.
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜Well, Mel’s where the action is. She’s like the epicentre of whatever’s going on. And she has all these friends that hang around, sort of like they just want to surf in on whatever good waves happen around her.’
    â€˜And? What’s that got to do with me?’
    â€˜Well, you’re not like…like those girls. You’re brave and smart and you don’t worry about what everyone else is doing. You, I dunno, find your