‘Goddamned Kiwis. Why can’t they use the right-hand side like everyone else?’ Someone tooted at him and he pulled to the kerb. ‘Yeah, yeah, give me a break. I’m a tourist.’ A tired smile stretched across his mouth. The trouble with being overtired was that everything got that much more complicated. Twisting the cap off the bottle of soda he’d purchased at the petrol station a little way back, he poured half the contents down his parched throat. At least that tasted the same as back home. Jet lag, and lack of sleep for the past six months, played havoc with his body. And his mind. The military plane out of Kansas that he’d hitched a ride on had touched down at Whenuapai Air Force Base at the ungodly hour of five that morning. Which only went to show how crazy he’d been. Why had he hopped a plane going in the opposite direction from Florida, where he’d intended spending some of his leave checking up on his buddy’s family?
