I hopped into Marshall’s Bus before Maverick. The seats were laden with plush shampooed sheep wool and the vehicle smelt of a strange aroma.

I tried peeping behind the curtain behind us, by drawing my hand towards the curtain, but Marshall quickly swiped it away. “None of that. That’s my lab back there. Bunch of day walkers around.”

I then searched for a belt to secure myself with. But I just found myself fumbling around with a thick rope, that rolled around and pressed against my back uncomfortably. “Yeah mate, that’s the best I can do for ya.” Marshall laughed.

I looked over at Maverick who had already weaselled himself below the top restraint. I looked at the top like it was a loaded handgun with a smoking barrel that’d been palmed off to me. “Don’t be so upset, Hunter. I won’t crash,” stated Marshall with a yellow grin.

“Touch wood,” replied Maverick, pressing his hands against the wooden panelled dashboard.

I caved and wrestled around the rope to find myself in an awkwardly secured state, but I still felt like the rope resistance was unsavoury.

“Alright boys, we got a long day ahead of us. We need some breakfast. I know an alright place here in Picton, or we can hold off and hit an even better place in Nelson. Balls in your court.” shared Marshall.

Maverick pulled out his crumbled pack of cigarettes, only one was left it seemed. He fished it out of his pack and threw the packet out of the window.

“I don’t appreciate litterers.” stated Marshall in a serious tone, “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t light that thing up in here. This whole bus might go up if you do.” he finished.

“Yeah, alright, that’s all good,” replied Maverick, placing the cigarette behind his ear.

“Yeah, I know it’s alright because it’s my car my rules,” replied Marshall, spitting out of his rolled-down window. “Last call, if you wanna get a feed or a coffee here then now’s the chance, if not, you’ll have to wait a couple of hours.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” I replied.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” agreed Maverick, beginning to rub his fingers together as if palming change.

“We’ll alright, just remember; this is the last stop until Nelson, so I hope you're prepared to sit tight for a few hours,” Marshall spoke.

I worked with my seatbelt rope, trying to find a way to tighten it, but nothing seemed to work, and if anything pulling and tugging it just made it looser.

Can’t say I felt at ease being at the front of the vehicle where a head-on collision would almost certainly render me a cripple, if not dead.

Less the winding snowy mountains to our side as we climbed around rocky roads and I was almost certain one fuck up could also mean we plummeted below to the ocean.

This was perhaps the most significant time where I had prayed for someone’s sobriety, that hopefully Marshall was with it enough to be able to get us to Nelson safely, and not an early grave instead.

“So how many tabs do you have?” asked Maverick,

“I have sheets. Double dipped,” replied Marshall, with a wheezy chest.

“How many are we talking though?” Maverick prodded, attempting to snag a sneak preview of the lab.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“I’ve got more than you could ever hope to sell at a gig like this,” Marshall spoke matter-of-factly.

“You mean like over 10 grand worth of tabs?” asked Maverick, stroking his chin.

“Try a hundred.” bragged Marshall, placing on his sunglasses.

Maverick whistled, “Shit man, how much do you sell ‘em for?”

“I sell 'em for Fifty, but if you can manage to sell 'em to the hippies for more than that, then you can keep those profits,” replied Marshall.

“Shit chea, man. What’d you say about the splitting of costs? Was it 50/50?” asked Maverick.

I could feel the dollar signs pulsating through his mind.

“Yeah, that’s right. And depending on how well you boys do I might be able to hook you both up with a little bonus,” added Marshall.

“Shitchea man, I like bonuses.” laughed Maverick.

I could just feel the pure bliss that must have been going through Maverick's mind knowing how much gear he could buy if he played his cards right.

My only game plan was to make enough to fix my car and that’s all. I knew Acid was a class A drug under the Criminal Drug Act of ‘74. As a first-time offender, I’d probably only get home detention. But I knew that they’d probably throw the book at Mav.

One thing I know with my limited criminal knowledge is that all convicts who pass through the justice system end up at least passing through Mount Eden prison before they’re sentenced. In which case Mav would no doubt be in close quarters with at least someone from his past. And the knowledge of that made me want to pull him aside in private and talk some sense into him, my car wasn’t worth it.

I turned my head to look upon the neighbouring ocean as it crashed against the rocks below. The absolute absence of different barriers and land mass shook me to my core. As did the numbing breeze that froze my bare hands.

“Whereabouts is the festival?” I asked.

“It’s in Nelson. Little bushdoof called The Cave Party. It’s deep in the bush. Might have to pick up some hiking boots for you two. Looks like your shoes have had it.” replied Marshall.

I suddenly looked down at my shoes, they were cloaked in dried mud. The side of one of them had ripped open, revealing a dark musty sock with the shoe now having a mouth that looked as though it would talk to me. Shoes can make you feel a lot better about yourself. Damn near any new shoe can do that.

“Yeah man, that sounds legendary,” replied Maverick, clearing his throat, and rubbing his hands together. “Do you reckon people would be after some weed at this place?” Maverick asked further.

Marshall thought to himself for a moment, “maybe the sober drivers he laughed to himself. “This is an underground psychedelic rave. Like, literally, underground. It goes for three days so I’m pretty sure a lot of the day-three sober drivers will be getting blasted on days one and two. But you might have some luck, never know.”

“Yeah, I’ll try my luck,” replied Maverick, digging into his face.

We drove along for a couple of hours with little to no houses or buildings in between, maybe a gas station every now and again, and I really hoped my car would still hang on faithfully on this slippery road.

As we arrived in Nelson, Marshall found us a random mechanic that he seemed to know somehow, we then climbed out to unhitch the car while Marshall did the paperwork. Maverick snuck the last couple of ounces he had in the boot of my car, As well as the money he’d stashed underneath my driver's seat.

“Never trust those damned mechanics man, they’re a shifty lot.” He said to me in passing as he stuffed as many notes as his pockets could handle. He stuffed a few more into his socks and then told me to do the same.

He counted the last of the coins he had in his hands, “Five hundred dollars…I hope you're hungry for the fattest breakfast in town.” he laughed.

“So long as you help me finish it.” I joked.

“Fuck Nah, I’m not too hungry aye,” replied Maverick scratching his stubble. His eyes were sunken and dark.

I felt a shift Inside me, it was as if a cruel joke had been said, and I wasn’t too sure if I had permission to laugh or not.

Marshall came strolling back out with a barista cup of coffee in his hand, the little kind. “They’ve got free coffee in there if you guys want a bit of a wake-up.” he shared.

Maverick began leading the way and I followed him once more. We grabbed a coffee each, returned to the bus, and set off on the road once more.

Finally, we sat down at a little café that I can’t remember the name of. But one thing I began to notice with this place is that unlike Auckland people; they seemed to take their time getting from one place to the other. They’d stop and say hi and give you a smile.

I noticed this as we all enjoyed our English breakfast, and Maverick simply downed one double shot of coffee after another.

“Might wanna chill out on those things man. You’re gonna crash later on,” warned Marshall.

“I’ll be gem,” replied Maverick, licking his lips to clear his moustache foam.

Marshall chucked his knife and fork down in the correct satisfied etiquette that would signal his intention to the waitress. Meanwhile, I tried to stomach my first square meal in what felt like forever.

“Let’s say we, make a move aye. Not sure when everyone’s gonna start flocking to the cave but the early bird gets the worm right?” Marshall replied.

“Yeah, fuckin oath,” replied Maverick, sipping back on his third mocha.

We all collectively stood. I picked up the two plates from the table, walked them over to the front counter and thanked the waitress. She gave me a smile that lit up my soul for a moment.

And then I remembered the night ahead, and it brought me back down to earth. Being around so much acid and trippers in a confined space was not something that I had been involved with for years. And last time I had ended up in a solid month-long stint in a psych ward.

Now that I hadn’t taken my meds for a long while I knew that things could only get worse once I plummeted into that environment. But I felt as though I didn’t have a choice.