| A Grim Task |
| By Joseph Papparelli |
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http://www.papparelli.com/war |
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Killing her had been the easy part. But John knew that those forensics teams could find evidence easily enough if they tried... he watched CSI too, after all. He knew he would have to destroy ALL the evidence. |
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His breath puffed white in the crisp autumn evening air. There was a task to be done; a huge task. He would have to burn everything in his yard that could be burned. Lucklily, he lived far from anyone, so noise was not an issue. He pulled the cord on the chainsaw and it started with a sluggish hitch. He never really used his chainsaw, but tonight was different. |
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The first tree fell with a mighty crash. Dilligently, he began to cut it into smaller pieces. The trees were covered in her blood, and he knew fire was the only way; the only purifier. He ran the RPMs on the chainsaw as high as he could, and the chain bit into the logs with a satisfying sound. Bloodied sawdust flew in a dark arc into the night. He knew he would be here a while. |
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Hours had passed. Tree after blood-soaked tree cracked and crashed to the ground. The chainsaw roared, sawdust flew furiously and log after log fell onto the dead leaves below. John shut off the chainsaw and wiped the sweat from his grimy brow. He walked quietly to the shed, pulled out the gerry can of gasoline, and returned to the chainsaw. He silently filled the tank and put the can down. He sighed, hefted the chainsaw, and yanked the cord again. The chainsaw roared once again. There was more cutting to be done. Much more. |
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Finally, the sky began to lighten to a soft, pink glow. John, exhausted, rocked slowly and silently in his chair. Before him, a fire crackled loudly, popping and whistling on occassion. He smiled slightly. The wood would burn; it would be purified. And all the blood, which came from her, would be gone. He had spent the last few hours raking and collecting all the leaves in the area, and they were also burning. Now, only dirt and a few stunted stumps remained. He had a lot of wood to burn before they found her. He closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep. The fire crackled before him as John slept quietly, secure in the knowledge that they would never catch him. Ever. |
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