As we entered Summer, the news broke that a woman that had been hitchhiking was smacked in the back of the skull, her body dragged into an off roader, taken to local bush, and discarded in a ditch.

The news was spread through newspapers that had shocked the local township.I have a feeling that Brent would’ve had some theory about an underlying motive, but no one had seen Brent for the remainder of the year.

Rumour began to spread that Wade the druggy had snitched on one of his friends and been released back into town. This made me second guess whether my hitchhiking passion had a future.

At the turn of the new year Ack threw his 17th birthday party. And it was at this party that Brent washed back up on shore, branding a new neck scar that ran from one side to the other.

I would ask Brent what had happened and he would tell me that he had been peddling meth in a bad part of the city for the last five months and been stabbed by a gang member.

As one friend reemerged into the picture one would leave. Because that night after a violent game of kings cup, after everyone had left, Ack would break into his neighbour's house and end up in a tough scuffle that would send him to prison on a home invasion charge.

As my world view began to change on the world around me I began to realise that shit can happen. Fucked up happenings. Be it the hitchhiker massacre, the crack fueled feuds, or a prison sentencing.

I had graduated from my course the year before and the friends I had around me were beginning to fall into despair like rotten teeth. I wasn’t sure where I was gonna end up, but all I knew was that I no longer would take life for granted.

I still didn’t have a car but a new friend of Brent’s, who was simply introduced to me as Kong, had recently been given a car from his mother. This kept me off the streets, away from my old dropkick friends who would still loiter

I was cool enough with Kong to where I was able to join Kong and Brent as we drove around town. Brent and I began to feel less shit about ourselves since we were no longer a part of the dropkick crowd who seemed to loiter around town without a car.

Although Kong didn’t indulge in weed usage, he was still happy to drive us to maccas or the local swimming hole, complete with a box of bourbon that we drank in the sun.

It sure felt good to be away from the hitch hiking spots, and although I missed smoking weed on the regular; it was good to slowly be moving up in the world.

“What should we do now boys?” said Kong, crunching his can.

“You see those chickens?” said Brent, shakily pointing over towards a brood of chickens.

“Yeah?” I replied, sipping on my can.

“I’m gonna take one home.” said Brent, tossing his can aside.

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“What?” said Kong, as we both watched Brent crouch down and begin to approach a back turned chook.

Brent got closer and closer, but soon the chook turned its head, and began running away. Brent quickly ran after the chicken with his arms outstretched.

Kong and I laughed and cheers’d our cans as we watched Brent try to tussle and grab a chook for himself.

It was all fun and games until Brent actually got hold of a chicken and began bringing it towards the car, “Open up the back door, I’m putting Russel in there.”

“Russel? The chicken?” asked Kong, turning to face Brent.

Brent nodded, “Damn straight.”

“Nah, that’s chickens gonna shit all through my car if we do that. Leave it.”

“Isn’t there a law against stealing people's chickens?” I asked.

“Damn right there is, it’s called poaching. One of the last two hangable offences in the country.” Kong informed, making way towards Brent.

“Nah, c’mon man, let us put Russ in the back, he’s all good.” said Brent, as Russel began flapping his wings profusely.

“You’re gonna end up on the front page acting like this, Deranged Crack Dealing Sociopath swindles Chicken from honest Farmer.” I stated, watching Brent calm Russel with soothing whispers and a neck kiss.

“That’s fuckin’ disgusting man, who knows what that things got.” Kong hurled.

Something clicked with Brent, “Eggs, it’s got eggs!”

“And? You can buy eggs from the local shop for like 3 bucks for twelve!” I mocked.

“Yeah? This little bastard will lay twice as much, in half the time. Now open the damn door!” Brent ordered, and Russel began to flap her wings again.

Kong clicked his tongue, and began walking over, he unlocked the car and Brent hopped in the backseat with Russel. I hopped in the front and Kong drove us over towards the water tanks, a popular stoner spot.

What didn’t sit right with me was, as I said, King never smoked weed. So it was a mild surprise when he turned off just before the water tanks and we headed down around a bend towards the small township museum.

We parked up in an almost empty carpark. All but us and two distant off roaders were in the corner. A scrawny zombified looking man with a shaved head, sat on a BMX, and would occasionally eyeball us between talking to his two truck bound friends.

Kong, Brent, Russel and myself sat in cheer as we finished off the last of our box when suddenly a girl that Brent recognised from the younger years course came walking by our car.

“Mercedes!” Called out Brent, waving his can.

Kong gave her a smile, and I simply stared at her.

Mercedes lightly shook her head, and carried on walking by.

“Snob.” laughed Brent as he let out a burp.

Silence fell over us as we looked across the carpark and noticed the bmx rider rolling up to us with death threats written in his eyes. Over his shoulder we could see Mercedes standing closely with Wade, surrounded by a pack of nameless, addict skeletons with shaved heads watching us.

Brent’s eyes widened as the zombie crackhead snorted and spat on the ground. “Know where to get?” Brent asked the zombie.

“Get what?” asked the zombie, his eyes darting all over us.

“Green.” muttered Kong.

“Nah, beat it.” ordered the zombie.

Kong dropped his handbrake and we sped off along the empty car park, round the bend, down the road, all the way to Kongs house which was near the newly built shopping complex.

We sat there for a couple hours, our minds ravaged and racing.

“That was fuckin’ Wade man!” said Brent, patting an unhinged Russel.

“That was fuckin’ Wade.” I agreed.

“That shit gave me anxiety, bro.” said Kong, breathing heavily.

“That was fuckin’ Mercedes with that creep!” said Brent, holding his stomach.

“What a fuckin’ idiot!” agreed Kong.

“What a monster.” I thought of Wade.