Day 4

We reached Wellington safely and just had enough money to catch a taxi to the outskirts of the city, where we were dropped off at a place called Desert Rd. It really was like a desert out there: rocks and strange plants littered the desolate ground.

I felt like we’d been there before, until I finally figured out that we’d been here when those farmers were chasing us. We walked slowly down Desert Rd. for the rest of the afternoon, hoping to pick up the odd driver who was crazy enough to give a ride to a bunch of weird looking hitchhikers dragging a barbecue along. We weren’t in the South Island anymore, so I guess the people here were more formal. A couple of cars passed on the other side of the road, but none on our side. I suddenly felt sick as I saw another car pass us on the other side. It was heading in the same direction as us. We were on the wrong side of the road!

It was starting to get dark anyway, and we decided to camp out the night. ‘Camping’ in our situation meant walking a hundred metres past the curb into the open desert and falling exhausted on some rocks where nothing would see us. I say ‘nothing’ because it was a ‘thing’ that found us.

We were literally on our last sausage, and there was only one bottle of tomato sauce left. I held up the bottle, about to squeeze some on my 1/5 of a ‘hot dog’ when somebody snatched it out of my hand.

‘Hey, quit it Mike!’ I was looking at Sean who was tying up his shoe.

‘What’s Mike doing, Adam? He looked up from his laces with a grin on his face while moving his head to the side so he could see over my shoulder.

‘Mike, I wouldn’t mess with Adam while he’s eating…’ his voice trailed off. His face went pale.

‘Its not Mike,’ he said in a strangely calm voice.

‘How can it not be Mike?’ I thought to myself. I was here, and Sean, Brendon and Joe were right in front of me. Then, Mike showed up.

‘Hi guys! Did somebody call me? I was just going for a pee.’ He stopped in his tracks, looking behind me like the others were.

‘Uh, guys, isn’t it a little early for Halloween?’ I turned around and dropped my slice of sausage. Standing behind me with the last bottle of Ketchup in its mouth was a huge, ugly creature that looked like a giant mutant emu from hell. I didn’t exactly have a chance to analyze it, but it had two long legs, a stubby torso and a towering crane for a neck. I was too scared to run and was fixed like super-glue on the spot.

‘Let me guess,’ I hesitated. ‘Trick or treat?’ I threw him the sausage from the ground and ran with energy that had been created from pure fear. I stopped and looked back. It had already finished off my sausage and was starting to lick the grease off the barbecue.

‘I’ve read about this type of animal,’ Brendon whispered. ‘Its called a moa. Apparently, it’s extinct.

‘Well personally,’ Joe piped up. ‘I’d rather not have found out.’ The moa was getting bored with the barbecue and there was nothing else around to keep it interested.

Except us.

It looked up at us with its huge mesmerizing eyes and scraped its massive hooves across the ground.

‘Uh guys, I think its about to charge.’ For once in my life, I wished I had been wrong.

We split up into different directions as the great beast showed us just how fast it could run, specifically Joe.

‘Ahhhhhhhh!’ he screamed as the force of the moa slammed into him, tossing him through the air. There was nothing we could do for him. We circled back to camp. The moa followed us, but this time we were prepared.

Brendon and I unhooked the gas tank from the barbecue and let it leak over the campsite. We also made a small trail back to where we were hidden, safe behind some rocks. The moa appeared seconds later, unaware that it was standing in a puddle of methane.

Sean struck a match, lighting the gas trail. My eyes followed the stream of fire until it reached the large puddle. Brendon yelled at us to get down and cover our ears. That, and the stench of gas was the last thing I remember before the ‘whoosh’ of the fireball singed the rock that protected us.

We peered over the rocks, then quickly shuddered and looked away, because the charred remains of the dead beast was not a pretty sight. A good sight, however, was the limping form of Joe staggering across the desert towards us.

‘You’re alive!’ I shouted, and ran to him. He was in pain, but managed a weak grin.

‘I saw the explosion, and thought you guys had blown yourselves up.’

He winced as he sat down. His leg was badly broken. Sean, being our survival expert, made a splint out of two of the legs off the barbecue and some spare rope we had. After he finished, Joe stood up.

‘Now, anyone for KFM?’ (Kentucky Fried Moa)