| Gabe lay awake for
most of the night , churning and burning up inside like he'd been struck down with a
fever. He had never been so angry with his father. Five years beforehand, he destroyed his
tenth birthday party. And he'd just made sure he didn't enjoy this one. 'This has got to
stop. This really has to stop. Tomorrow I'm going to see to it that is does'. |
In the morning,
neither spoke over the breakfast table. But Gabe's gut was in turmoil. 'This has gotta
come to a head. Now. Right now'
Garth put his boots on and left the house. Gabe followed. He waited till his father was
down by the shed when he braced himself for what he knew was going to be the ultimate
conforntation |
| He also knew he was
probably about to get the hiding of his life, but something has to give, as life with his
father had become totally untenable. Gabe was totally unprepared for what was to follow. |
"Last night was
the biggest mongrel act pulled by the biggest mongrel bastard I;ve ever met in my
life," he yelled. Garth stopped dead in his tracks. He turned around to confirm his
ears weren't lying to him. Gabe was visibly shaking.
"You talking to me?"
"Yeah I'm talking to you. You nearly make me puke every time I see you, you selfish
brutual bastard," Gabe came back at him. |
| Garth saw red. He
burst into the shed and grabbed the stock-whip off the workbench and charged back outside.
Gabe froze like a statue when he saw his father coming at him. Suddenly he started to wet
himself. He was too terrified to move, which allowed the lash an easy and perfect target. |
Gabe screamed in
agony as the leather lace on the end of the whip cracked against his rib cage.
"A mongrel act eh boy?" he yelled, gathering up the whip and sending it down on
his son a second time. Again Gabe screamed in agony as he felt the lash find it's mark. |
Again his father drew
back the whip. This time Gabe saw it coming and turned his back to try and sheild the
brunt of the blow.
But to no avail. The lash sliced through his shirt and feathered his skin, drawing blood.
He howled like a wild bore being hit in the flank with a hollow point. |
| Garth yanked back on
the whip and lashed out again. This time it caught another area of his back and Gabe fell
to the ground, writhing in agony. The force of the blow took his breath away. Like he was
winded. And all the time Garth was roaring like a mad bull. Blow after blow he laid on his
son. Gabe tried to get up. Once he nearly made it. But Garth directed the lash at his legs
and jerked him over. |
Garth was like a madman. Still the
blows came. Gabe knew he had to do something to stop his father or he would be dead in
seconds.
After an other vicious blow caught the top of his legs and tore through his jeans, he used
every ounce of his strength, picked himself up and lunged, stumbling and screaming at his
father.
The power of his charge knocked Garth legs from under him.
Frantically Gabe scrambled to his feet and raced into the shed. He went straight for a
cupboard on the back wall. He crashed open its doors and snatched the shotgun out of the
rack. He spun round with the weapon to see his father coming at him from about twenty feet
away.
He jerked back the loading pin of the Browning five-shot semi automatic and released it. A
round catapulted into the breech. |
| He pointed
the weapon directly at his father. |
