Forlorn Too by Tony Norton

Still from Digging up the Marrow

Still from Digging up the Marrow

From the piling up of layers of silence in the urgent phone call Cal knew something was very wrong. From her staccato tone, interspersed with often pregnant pauses and the phasing in and out between her words Cal knew Jules was in trouble. Cal knew Jules….. This felt serious.
As he drove the three miles to her house a million thoughts ran through his mind racing away with all sorts of horrible permutations. He had to prepare for the worst.That redneck cock of a husband of hers always took umbrage when Cal was around. Getting out of the pick up he reached reassuringly around back of his Jeans and felt the security of the handle of the hunting knife buried in his belt. His anxiety sat like a golf ball in his tight throat. It was 5.30 in the morning and the sun had just crept up over the fir-tree horizon. Everything was eerily quiet….too quiet. Adrenaline coursing he strode up to the front door and gave it three deliberate knocks. Time stood still – he fidgeted nervously – off one foot onto the other waiting an eternity for the door to open.
The latch clicked and Jules stood in front of him. She had the face of the haunted. Hair matted, grubby nightdress flecked with crusty dried blood. No words were spoken as she took him by the hand through to the kitchen. Laid out on the kitchen floor was Dwayne in a pool of gelatinous blood. The stench of shit was overpowering as he had obviously lost control of his bowels in his final clamour for life. Two sentinel blue-bottle realistically worked patterns above the corpse in a time to the flickering amber strobe of strip light. For a moment they hypnotized Cal into a trance and he stared at the enormity of what had happened.
Jules began to sob which broke the spell.
“Jules…..this was always going to happen… it was the only conclusion… the only thing in doubt was would he kill you first”
At the utterance of the word kill Jules began to unravel. She began sobbing uncontrollably uttering a series of garbled justifying nonsense.
Cal took her in his arms for what seemed eternity. He knew he had to help her…he had already calculated the implications but the choice was made.
Within twenty minutes he was back from the hardware store with 20 gallons of bleach and a roll of industrial polythene. He had also purchased a large hack saw. Dwayne was a big mother and he would have to break the job down into manageable chunks. After some intense labour six packages were wrapped and ready to be shipped. He was careful, wore surgical gloves and made sure he didn’t sweat on the fruits of his labour. All the while Jules sat in the living room looking hollow at inane daytime television. The house stank of bleach which gave Cal a nauseous feeling in the warmth of the late summer Sun.
They would move him under the cover of night.
After a torturous endless day reluctant night finally relinquished wearily shading out the last rays day. At last they could stop jumping at shadows and take the body the 10 mile drive to the coast.
Cal loaded the six neat packages into the back of his pick up. With a dead body in the back and the walking dead in the seat next to him it would be a long silent drive.
As they left the rural town and headed out Cal’s mind began to pay tricks on him. What if tricks….what if Jules cracked and blabbed…she was showing signs of a breakdown? What if the guy at the hardware store was suspicious of his purchases? Shit , he didn’t even take his eyes off his phone and couldn’t give the least of a fuck.
What if……,BANG!!!!
Fuck…ran straight into another vehicle coming at a right angle the other way!!!!
Fuck …..Fuck….
Brakes screeching he came to an abrupt stop..
It seemed like it had all happened in slow mow.
He had hit it side on.
He got out if his pick up just as the tall guy with the beard came screaming out of the driver’s side of the saloon. Shouting the odds he looked like a madman.
“Sorry Dude… My fault…I was miles away “said Cal.
“You fucking imbecile…you could Have killed me you dumb fuck”
I didn’t….Look Dude..its my fault…chill the fuck down…
In the quiet of the night Cal heard the voice of a small child crying out
“Help Me” from the gap in truck the crash had created.
Cal eyes darted to the trunk and back to the stranger.
Immediately Cal’s hand reached around for his blade.
There was a look of sheer terror on the stranger’s face his hand went
straight to clutching his chest.
He was deathly white and choking.
He collapsed eyes wide, scared shitless and died there and then of a massive heart attack.
Cal could hear soft sobbing coming from the trunk.
Engine still running he popped the trunk and found a girl there of no more the six or seven…petrified.
Cal saw opportunity. He picked up the girl and passed her to Jules. He took the body of Dwayne out of his pick up and put him into the saloons trunk. He then dragged the dead stranger into the back of the saloon. He told Jules to follow him and he drove the saloon the last two miles to the coast.
He put the stranger in the driver’s seat and put the car into drive and watched it nonchalantly break through the barrier and over the cliff top.
He jumped back in the pick up and drove Jules and the little girl home.
He waited all next day watching the news ….nothing.
Jules and the girl, who said her name was Sadie, bonded together. Both seeking solace away from their own respective horrors.
Then the news he was waiting for came the next day….
News item….
“Renown convicted paedophile Charles Altman was found dead in his car at the bottom of Newton cliffs this morning. In the trunk of the car were several body parts of an unknown Caucasian male and the body of Sadie Turner the seven-year old who he had subsequently abducted late last week”
Cal’s blood froze….
He looked into kitchen ……Jules and Sadie were sat, busy colouring, oblivious.
Neither of them seeming to even acknowledge that Cal was even in the house.

Once Upon A Dark Cliff by kaber13

Once Upon A Dark Cliff by kaber13

Original Fiction by Tony Norton

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

Protected by The Freewill Writers Asylum Vaults since 2015

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