Midwest Depravity - Carnarvon Part 3

The tall white 4x4 ute comes barrelling down the highway, holding about 120 kilometres and hour, it’s inertia blows up dust as it passes. From inside the cab, the Parasite sucks eagerly at the poisonous port sack, then takes out his rifle from behind the front seat and loads some live shells into the chamber and cocks the level under the trigger..

“Stop the ute when you see a goat”, he exclaims calmly.
“You’ll never get it from the car”, Shane protests. “We need to pull off somewhere and stalk ‘em”.
“Don’t be silly”, the parasite replies confidently, “This is a Winchester lever action 30.30, I could knock over an elephant with this thing”…

Shane shakes his head and peers into the rear view mirror anxiously to see if anyone is coming up from behind. It’s all clear, but up front a few kilometres away he can see an object in the heat blurred horizon…

“Better wait until this car passes”, He say’s.
“Ha hmm, don’t worry about it”, Parasite urges pathetically.

They pass a few goats which are chewing lackadaisically a few metres away on the side of the road. Parasite twitches in his chair and thumbs the handle of his rifle excitedly, almost stroking it like it where an expensive jewel. Shane disapprovingly shakes his head once again but the Parasite is too distracted by the passing shrubbery to notice his disfigurement.

“I bet I’ll hit one”, the Parasite boast’s, breaking the tiresome hum of the roaring tires.
“And what are you going to do with it Zac?”, Shane replies sarcastically, emphasizing his name.
“We’ll eat it!” he affirms earnestly while looking impatiently through the open window.
“You’re not putting that thing in my car”.

The Parasite doesn’t reply and within a few minutes a twin trailer semi rolls past with a burst of sound and momentum. It makes the ute shake violently by the built-up pressure between the two objects. Shane checks the rear view mirror again.

“Stop the car”, The Parasite burst’s with excitement just moments after the truck has passed.

Stones crunch under the heavy wheels, three goats look up distracted by their monotonous task and the car comes to a slow halt. As the car door opens the goat’s turn and bolt sensing some immanent danger. They should - the parasite although a wanker at the best of times, is a bloody good shot, not that they know this. Shane quickly plugs his fingers into his ears, while the Parasite rapidly braces the rifle hard against the corner frame of the window. He balances himself and watches the goats bounce erratically through the open scope. They dart from left to right looking for some shrub to hide under but the land is hard, barren and futile..

The gun sounds with deafening forcefulness and a loud audible crack. The Parasite’s shoulder jerks violently under the recoil and the 80gram lead head explodes from the end of the rifle furiously. The second goat bursts open like an egg in a microwave as the bullet enters its arse and blows out the side of its abdomen the size of a basketball. A bloody mess, it tumbles lifelessly to the ground.

The Parasite grins excitedly and jumps out of the car, rifle in toe.

“Stalking ‘em, pfft” he echo’s. “Haha hmm”.

He bounds through the red dirt on the front balls of his naked feet. His slender body moves naturally against the sterile background. Shane checks the road methodically before stepping out of the cab.

“What are you going to do with it?” Shane asks inquisitively.

The parasite is already standing over the dead creature, flipping it over with his hands and examining his work with pride. It’s a terrible kill shot, but with a bullet as ridiculous as it is, its little work knocking a goat over.

“You’re not putting it in my car”, Shane reinforces again.

The Parasite looks up momentarily at Shane, rather perplexed as to why Shane would be so inconsiderate.

“Well I want its horn’s”, the Parasite decides rather unhappy that he can’t take the whole bloody carcass.
“I have a knife in the car” Shane helpfully suggests.
“Meh, effort!” and with that the Parasite wipes his bloody hands across his shorts, picks up the rifle, cock’s the lever and holds the heavy barrel above the goats skull. Shane turns away and the rifle once again pops like an angry grenade.

When Shane turns back, the Parasite has already reached down and divorced the two horns from the disgusting pool of mush.

“Hehe”, the Parasite sniggers in his own bemusement.
“You are an absolute fucking dickhead”, Shane argues, but he might as well whisper it under his breath as it falls unheard.

Minutes later they are back on the Great Northern Highway, destination Carnarvon. Parasite holds up his trophy and examines them quietly then busies himself again with the Port sack.

It’s not until the next day that the two roll into the Oyster Farm. The Parasite was moving impatiently, all fidgety and smiling as I watch the car pull up. He bursts from the door like an escaping cat, in his hands he’s holding these horns and yabbering on at a speed I can hardly understand, or care to actually listen. I smile and greet Shane as he slowly makes his way from the car.

“Did you have a good drive” I ask, directing the questions towards Shane. He shakes his head disapprovingly.
“Never again”, he exhales, “Not with Zac”.
I look at the Parasite and he’s excited with this statement.
“Feel the bump on my head”, he exclaims as wildly as he had been talking just before. He put’s his hand against the back of his head and feels at an apparent swollen bump. I don’t bother.
“I had to hit him across the head to shut him up”, Shane explains, “He got so drunk last night and he wouldn’t shut up”.
“Yeah and I can’t remember it”, the Parasite interjects then laughs some more and adds, “What did you hit me with?”
“A metal bar”, Shane smiles.
“Fuck”, the Parasite exclaims, ‘No wonder it hurts so much!”.

This makes Shane’s grin grow a little broader and he laughes a little under his breath.

“Well welcome to the farm”, I say, “Make yourselves at home. I have some work to finish off, won’t take long”.

As I turned to head back to work they were arguing about some minor indifference. This was going to be one hell of a weekend, I thought to myself and walked away.