That Graveyard

It was dark. Alex couldn’t see fifty feet ahead without the help of the street lights. If he ever change his headlight in the past five years of having his bike, he might have seen further. Though it’s nothing he’d complain about either way. He was going a steady thirty five, and in this small town he never had to go faster.

He has been awake for fifteen hours now and just left his shift that lasted fourteen of them. His bed was about the only thing on his mind. Well, not entirely. He did have sea food gumbo he made himself two days ago and was wondering if he should finish it up with the rest of his jack and coke. It wasn’t much to put him in a coma, but he had to be awake in six hours anyways. A coma would have to wait. Whatever the case, he’s only about five minutes from the house, and he couldn’t help but press the throttle just a little faster. But no more than two miles over the limit. Certainly not. 

Officer Grover, a sergeant in the local sherif department and an all around outstanding citizen had been sitting on this hill for the past two hours and thirteen minutes. The good thing about this small town here was that there weren’t any hobos, no drugs floating around the streets, and most of all, with his blue coat on and the badge hooked on his chest, every other human being black, white, red, or yellow respected him simply because. 

His windows were down and it let in the night breeze. It was a warm night all things considering and it helped his eyes feel a little heavy, but the breeze kept him awake all the same. He heard the bike well before the headlights reached into view. It seemed to rev right before climbing over, and was a beautiful experience to behold. And don’t think for one second the dark night hid away any color from this bikers skin. As if God could ever hide a thumb tack in a pillowcase. But he would never admit something like that. God could do anything, after all. 

He checked the speed gun sitting atop his dash and it read an unlikely 34. He decided it needed to be calibrated back at the station, because there was no way that kid was going any slower than forty five. He clicked his lights on and sped on out.

There was a third man. A walking man. He was heading to work and he felt a little upset. You see, something kept bugging at the back of his mind, and not just one something but several somethings. He was having trouble waking up because there just didn’t seem to be any point anymore, and his girl said she’d start helping him but she never does. This job isn’t exactly what he dreamed of growing up and walking thirty minutes one way never came up back then either. And, to add onto that pretty little strawberry shake a nice little cherry, his girl seemed to be acting weird again. Nothing new, he’s seen the behavior before. And that’s what ate up his insides. He knew exactly what it meant. The worst part, he couldn’t really blame her for it. It’s his fault for giving her a third chance. 

He didn’t have the proof of the matter, but was sure if he got home early tonight he’d find her old friend Chris right where he had been sleeping fifty minutes ago. And he knew for a fact one more strike from work would get him turned right back around. And with what time it was now and what time he was supposed to be there, well it looks like this is going to be the last walk he’s making towards this job in particular. No bone in his body wanted anything to do with whatever truth lie in his bed right now, so he weighed his options. Continue walking to work for absolutely no reason, or start his walk back home early and rip off the bandaid. 

And then a third option appeared over the hill. The scream echoed through the endless night like a singing siren beckoning him into the warm depths. He watched the screaming bike pass by, then the blue lights click on to follow.

Alex, saw the blue light flash on right behind him and his heart sank a little. The headlights turned towards him as the cab pulled into the street and sped up. He kept his thumb on the throttle and considered for a moment what would happen if he just pushed it further. Surely he’d outrun this pig. Surely he’d be home within the hour safe and sound. Asleep, maybe. But then, maybe not. Maybe the vehicle drives smoother than he could know and maybe the thing would be at his heels before he knew what happened. The thought of his body flying off the bike had him take his thumb off and slow down.

That’s when the cop drifted across the street with a number of bumps and screeched. Its blue lights seemed to sway in the nothingness and then sit there after a second. Maybe he’d hit a deer, but it was hard to tell. The cop stopped right between the two street lamps. Alex put his bike to a complete stop and turned his whole body and the cop simply sat there. 

He wanted to push forward and make a run for it, but his gut was telling him to stay. Maybe that was his mother in him, but he wouldn’t admit that. He hasn’t thought of her in years. He hasn’t talked to her in even more.

He kicked his stand and instantly regretted it. His eyes got droopy and the lack of sleep started weighing on his mind. Every step he took towards the cop made his bed seem much sweeter.

The red came into view first, but only after getting real close to the front of the car. He had to walk towards the passenger side to get behind the headlights and get the best look, because there was simply no way he was seeing what he was. A man. A dark one. One arm was raised over his head and the jacket he wore was scraped up from the accident. His other arm, clearly dislocated, lied under his back and a streak of blood spread between the car and where that arm must be pressed against the cement. He was wearing black sneakers and only one of them were tied.  Alex couldn’t tell what color hair he might have had because the top of his head was dangling a little and the insides were hanging out. 

“What did ya’ll do?” The Officer stormed out of his cab. For a second after, Alex wasn’t sure what the officer was getting at with the word ya’ll. He appeared into the headlight, casting a shadow across the bloody ground. “What the fuck did you do?” 

Alex raised both hands like a confused, innocent, child and stumbled out a few words. “I did not do this.” His heart seemed to have been bursting out of his chest as the rush of adrenaline buzzed through his veins. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“This must be some sort of trick. Some scam.” The cop reached down to touch the blood coming out of the body and smelled it. Alex held his breath as he watched and waited. Waited for the moment of revelation, like maybe this was some sick joke. Maybe all the blood hid the tall tails and this things was some sort of doll. 

“Don’t you have a camera on the dash? Maybe it caught the truth because I didn’t do shit.” 

The officer stared at his dash long and hard. Like he wasn’t sure how to respond. Like he wasn’t sure if there was a right way to respond at all. A fire was lit then. A little thing at first but was soon catching on, Racing through his mind like a bunch of little sparks that started to put together a line of dialogue that could lead to only one thing. “How did you know about the camera?” 

“My dad was a cop, back when I knew him.” 

“So you know how stuff like this plays out?” The cop grinned as if he caught the young man in some sort of trap. 

“I just want to go on my way.” 

The cop squinted at the young man unwilling to believe. The possibility of someone wanting to continue on this adventure with him seemed possible, yet unlikely. . . Even his closest friends seemed to—. 

“I think I have a camera on my bike . . . it might have caught something worth watching.” 

The cop squinted through the darkness to get a better look at the bike. He eyes the other than again, silent and curious, then stood up straight and took in a deep sigh. He tucked his thumbs in his belt loops and tilted his head forward. “Show me, boy.” 

Alex’s heart dropped, unsure just where else to go with this. There was no camera on the back of his bike, but maybe if the cop trusted him things could go right. Well, now he has to show him so there’s not much trust to go around after he sees the lie. However, maybe it didn’t have to be a lie. Maybe Alex could make it seem as if it fell off. 

He felt naked while walking towards the bike. He could feel the gun pointed at his back as he walked and he felt the force of the bullet itching to fly on out and bite the back of his head. Sweat started to dampen his forehead and his hands trembled as he grabbed ahold of the seat of his motorcycle. 

“Where is it?” The cop asked. He shined his light around the cycle and strolled around it.

“I – I don’t know. It was here, and sending footage to my computer back home.” He ran his hands across the back ends where he figured it should’ve been and ran his hands through is hair. “I guess it must have fallen.”

“Probably when you flew past be going seventy five like a fucking idiot.” That didn’t bother the cop too much, not as much as the conversation before excited him. A camera to get rid of evidence or a new friend to work with forever? The choice is simple. “Whatever. It’s not here anymore.” He let out a sigh then, one that was far too long and too loud to be anything less than the aftermath of frantic desperation. The cop wiped a finger on his jacket. Probably to wipe away some blood or maybe simply to itch. He took in a loud breath that ended with a loud cough and clearing of his throat. As he adjusted on his feet his shadow spanned well across the bike by their side. The towering, monstrous, figure, reached for his gun and unclipped it from his hip. 

This is when everything clicked into Alex’s mind. Just how close he is at this moment from getting sucked into something he could never find his way out. 

“Please, man, please. I was just going home. You know that.” 

“I did not kill this man,” the officer said. “I don’t know what you and him were trying to pull but it clearly didn’t work.”

The tears began soon after and his face got real hot. “I know, I know, I know, I know.” Alex repeated the words more times than either of them knew. Well after he made his point he was still stumbling the words out. Getting stuck with the I’s and ow’s more often than not. The officer held his gun, that much was clear, but felt no need to aim it at the man just yet.

Instead he pointed back to the vehicle. “We need to hide that body if you want any hope of getting out of this a free man.” 

“We – we – we – lets jus – just call someone. Please, lets ca—” 

“Who? The police?” The officer pulled his head back with laughter. “I won’t pick up till the morning.”

His fight or flight was starting to kick in and Alex didn’t have a gun. He scanned his surroundings but found only abounded buildings. A forest sat behind them, only a thirty second sprint away. Maybe faster if the cop started shooting, and it wasn’t like the guy would have a clear shot through the parking lot. With as dark as it was. 

“We’re hiding it. The both of us, right now. I don’t give a rats ass what your mother thinks about it.”

Alex’s heart was thumping something stupid the closer they got to the man. When they reached him he got his first good look at him. “It looks like it might have just been an accident. Maybe he jumped. Look at how he’s laying.” 

Something cold and metal tapped the back of his head.  It pushed Alex forward and he spun to find himself staring down the barrel. 

“Shut up.” 

“All I’m saying is we sho—.” The gun pressed against his chest and he felt the words get stuck.

“Grab his shoulders.” 

Alex nodded and turned. The cop reached under his cab and began to drag out his legs. Legs which were pretty busted up with ripped jeans and bruised, bloody knees. 

. He leaned down and grabbed the shoulders to pull, but when he lifted the upper half the dead wighted head dropped to one side and like an old, rotten cabbage then spilled out and onto the street. With a silent, gushy thud and an aroma strait out of hell Alex dropped the body and heaved himself into the grass. His empty stomach begin to turn

“It’s just some blood. The coyotes will clean it when we leave.” 

Oh, yes. The coyotes. The beasts that storm the town like an elegant fungus. Eating all of the shit. They’re the reality of this place. A content reminder of where we would be if not for the building blocks that separated them from the humans of society. And they don’t let you forget. The constant howls swallow the small town day in and day out like a constant white noise that helped you sleep. Alex couldn’t remember a single night in his entire life here without hearing at least one.

As constants go, they get shoved to the back of the mind, and it was only now when Alex noticed how lively the night was. They were surrounding them. In the woods behind the buildings. Further up back to the highway. Even towards the apartments where he lived only five minutes away. These beasts were as close as ever, like they could smell the fresh kill and wanted to be apart of the feast. 

Then the headlights came through. Thought they were dim, they were clearly there and climbing up until the car itself was well over the hill and both boys began to panic. One, in necessity. The other in hope. The officer slipped his gun back into his holster and hollered at the boy. “Grab him, now, or this will turn around real quick for you.” Hope still lingered deep inside his soul, like somehow these headlights would be the beginning of a good night. Perhaps they could have been if he ran out in front of them and waved his arms out like a lunatic. But the reality is always much simpler. He was a black man next to a white cop with a gun at his back. Despite how simple this accident should be to decipher, the truth of the matter couldn’t be misjudged. 

He grabbed the ankles and helped move the body. They kneeled behind the cop car with the flashing blue lights and made sure the body couldn’t be seen, then watched as the car creeped by. It was another cop. He slowed down to a stop and spied the two men, trying to explain away why they would be hiding behind the cruiser together but the officer waved him on. The blue lights cut on and the siren blared too as if to say hello, then it went dark and he sped off. 

The cop was sweating now, though his heart was slowing down now. The cop smacked Alex’s shoulders and chuckled. “You did good, kid. Now help me get him in.” 

Blood was dripping down Alex’s hands and his jeans were soaked to the skin. “I – I can’t do this anymore. Please. . .” Alex dropped the man and knelt into the grass.

The officer braced himself for the full weight of the dead man and put his back into finishing the job. His blood was pooling the bottom of the cruiser and the seats were getting wet, too; but that’s why the cruisers have plastic back seats. The blood would come out easily enough, and surely he would have this new partner of the help. The clothes on his back would need special care, but that’s nothing he can’t figure out behind the locked doors of his apartment. Not his house, mind you, where his wife would find him. The apartment he and a couple other cop friends rented out together. 

“Where you think you going?” 

“Home. Just leave me be.” Alex could hardly let the words out. Each breath made his stomach turn and he was having trouble not heaving over a third time. 

“You’re helping me finish this shit up, boy.” The cop took a single step to help lean into the aim than took out his weapon. Alex heard him click off the safety. 

“You going to shoot me?” 

“I might.” 

 His heart didn’t thump so fast anymore.  There was no need to raise his hands. The cop wouldn’t dare actually shoot, not if Alex simply walked towards the cruiser. But there was this idea deep down that he couldn’t shake away, that walking away now would be the beginning of everything that comes next. The start of a whole new life. One in which he is safe, secure. One in which he isn’t sure what a dead guy in the back seat of a cop car smells like with his blood pooling at his feet. 

The cop waved the gun towards the car and Alex made his way forward. The cop grabbed ahold of him and shoved him in the back seat. He was now trapped and watched as the cop walked to his bike not but twenty feet away and dragged it to the curb. He didn’t bother putting it up on its stands and let it tip over and into the ditch. His ticket to another world gone forever. 

We could go on, and we should, about the eminence fear that our poor Alex had deep inside his gut. But to share this emotion and understand what he feels we need to see what he sees, and hear what he hears. We need to smell what he smells. Science says smell and taste are side by side with one another, and if Alex didn’t know this before, he knew it now. It was kind of like when you brush your teeth with a brand new tooth brush, straight out of the package. The bristles are still a little stiff and it seems as if you didn’t wet it good enough. Blood would pour between your teeth and pool on your tongue so that you could taste it. The bitter taste of life. It crawled its way up Alex’s nose now, and he could somehow taste the iron inside his mouth. Like the smell lingered inside him letting him taste just what he’d smell if he didn’t do what his new god demanded. 

The man was out of blood. His empty head no longer dripped even while leaning towards the door on the other side. The seats were soaked in the fluid and was making its way towards Alex. He paid it no mind, and instead watched the town disappear from his view. It was a vision he dreamed of a lot, especially after graduation high school. He just never imagined he’d watch the town vanish from the back of a cop car. And he surely never imagined doing it with a dead guy right beside hime. As the vehicle turned from one road onto the other the corpse lost its balance and fell onto Alex’s shoulder. It gave him a sharp jab and he winced as he tilted it away. With its opened neck pointed down, blood started to pour out at a greater pace and the already flooded floor got deeper. 

Alex grabbed ahold of the back of its shirt and had to sit straight up but couldn’t get himself to hold onto it any longer than that. With blood on his hands, getting into his shoes, and pooling under his butt, he leaned back into the door of the vehicle and closed his eyes tight. However, deep inside the eyes of his mind he only found misery. His mother’s face, red and wet from their very last interaction. Or the last time he saw his sister. She was smiling all those years ago and neither of them knew it would be the last time they ever spoke. He had to open his eyes to get away from the horror and found comfort in leaning into the blood that surrounded him.. This was looking to be his very last car ride. 

The cop, focused and invincible, turned onto a dark road that not even the city lights dared shine on. Killing Alex had been running across his mind like a hare in an endless field. No other ending gave him the joy he desperately desired. It’s been a couple months now and he wasn’t sure how much longer it’ll be before gettin another chance. And this man lying dead in his back seat didn’t count, not even sort of. There was no pleasure one gets from the exploding pow of the pistol. Hell, he didn’t even get to watch the life flash before his eyes. Yes, killing Alex would feel great. But he couldn’t help but feel some kind of bond. It was a word Alex had said so long ago, It lingered right there in his thoughts and he couldn’t shake it away. His dad was a cop. He knew the ins and outs, he understood the work all these men in blue put into society to make it a better place. This young man could be the helper he’s needed all along. 

  The end of the road came up and he had to park the car. His red Swiss rolled around the cup holder, little clicks and clacks took his attention away and he grabbed ahold of it.  He flicked the knife opened and stared at the blade. His gun wouldn’t work here, not without a good explanation as to why the hell he dragged his suspect out into the forest. No, the only way to get away with murder now would be this knife and for some reason he was feeling less and less like he even wanted to. No, he knew now that he didn’t. He closed the knife and placed it back into the cup holder. “Let’s get this shit done, boy.” 

The cop slammed the door behind him. He walked into the trees and left Alex to his thoughts, though they were getting dimmer as the night went on. He knew better than to use the door but tried it anyways. The handle opened up smooth as butter without any tugs or clicks and the door stayed right where he knew it would. The windows were getting foggy and his breath was getting hotter. He reached for the dead man and checked his pockets only to find them empty. He was just beginning to reach for the back ones when the cop came back from the forest with something in his hands. He opened Alex’s side and walked towards the front of the car. 

Alex slipped out of the vehicle and looked at what the headlights shone. A field surrounded by the thick trees deep inside whatever forest they lied in. A field with dozens, maybe hundreds of little piles where the ground was dug up and packed back down. All without headstones. The cop had a shovel stuck into the ground and was leaning on it. “Grab the dead guy and come here.” 

Alex found it funny how he thought the car ride was such an impactful part of his evening. Like it was that that would crawl into his psyche and make itself at home. But, no. Digging your own grave has a way of pushing out anything else. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking at first out of fear, and then out of pure exhaustion. His legs never got too tired, though, and it kept some sort of hope that if the chance would come he could run. And without a doubt he knew he could run. Just maybe not as fast as a bullet. Which leads us to the most intimidating thing of it all, the gun he knew was pointed at his back. The cop would sometimes point it at the ground and pace around, or walk to another end of the hole. But the gun would never leave his hand, and the safety stayed off. As the hours went on Alex sunk deeper and deeper until the hole was well over his head. 

“That’s good enough,” the cop said. And he grabbed ahold of Alex’s hand to help pull him up. He took the shovel away and tossed it into the darkness.

The cop reached for the dead mans wallet and tugged it out. “Help me push him in.” 

The two men grabbed either end and shoved him into the hole. Only after he was in did Alex realize just how small and cramped the space actually was. 

The cop flipped the wallet open and found two twenty dollar bills. He held them both between his fingers and rubbed them together letting them combine like two lovers. The sound of paper on paper took over the night. Alex saw something on his partner’s face. The gears turning. The decision making. The cop looked at Alex and stopped rubbing them all together. Their eyes meeting with nothing but the breeze keeping them apart. The cop sighed deeply and opened the wallet again to take out his ID. “Huh,” he cop said with a strange face. “His name is Alex.” The cop closed the wallet  then tossed it inside the hole. He folded both bills with one hand and tucked them deep inside his pocket. That’s my name, too.” 

He lifted the gun and Alex saw that he’d made his choice. Instinct must have kicked in because his hands were up this time around. “Wait, please wait. We can figure something out.” 

“I think I figured it all out already, brother. It’s time to put an end to this idea.” The cop turned towards the drivers side door and reached out to open it. 

“This idea?” 

“Yes,” he answered and opened it. “Like there’s any chance the two of us could be partners. It’s time I grew up.”  He dared to take his eye off the man and looked into the vehicle. He reached into the darkness for the Swiss, deciding if he wasn’t going to jump in and be buried alive then this would be a good alternative. His fingers tapped around the cup holder and grabbed ahold of something hard and wet. His eyes adjusted for the darkness and saw spots around the passenger seat. Spots littered the window, too, and he saw some on the dash as well. He reached for one and smeared it, revealing the wet substance he already knew it must be. He looked back to spot what he’d fear. The plastic window that separated the back with the front had been busted opened. He looked down at what he was holding and saw a perfect arch. White, a little wet with something red, and as hard as a rock. He was holding a piece of skull. 

Something sharp slipped right into the side of his neck and he fired his gun without looking. The knife slipped out of him and went right back in even harder. He was dragged out of the car and shoved back into the light. The gun had left his hand somewhere between being pulled and pushed and all he could focus on was holding onto the hole in his neck. Alex grabbed onto the blue jacket and tugged the knife out again then pushed him back. The cops feet twisted as he lost his balance and fell down the hole. 

The civilian closed the Swiss and tucked it into his back pocket. Blood dripped from his stomach where he was shot. It was nothing he couldn’t fix as soon as he got home. He leaped into the void and found the shovel than began pouring the dirt back in. The cop was still holding onto his neck and making grunting noises each time a pile would land on him. The dirt covered his eyes before anything else, and the void ate him before the breezeless hell in which he’d soon be consumed. 

The hole was covered hours faster than how it was made and Alex ran into the dark forest. He was looking for wherever this shovel was meant to stay but gave up on the search quickly after realizing the cop must have had a flashlight. He ran back into the opened field and tossed the thing in the trunk, then crawled into the front seat. The adrenaline began to soften and his breathing found its natural rhythm. He hot wired the cruiser and made his way out of the forest. He reached the road where it all began and noticed only a blood stain waiting. The meat had been picked right up. He tried to wipe away any blood that might be his but had no choice but to call it. The sun was rising.. He grabbed his bike from the ditch and dragged it back to the road. He kicked it into gear and sped off into the darkness. A quick stop at his house to fix his bleeding and change his clothes, then a thirteen hour drive followed by surprising his mother and begging her to stay for a while. 

The weapon in question stayed in his pocket. Too afraid to place it anywhere other than next to his wallet, he made it a habit to keep it on his person every day. And every day the department in Abba Parish Louisiana searched for that weapon, because they knew. They knew just what it must have looked like after examining the dead cops neck. They knew just how deep it should have been and they knew just what color it was, too, because Detective Carl Lends saw that thing in the cup holder of that cruiser a million times. He knew just why it sat there, too, and knew just what needed to happen to keep their little graveyard secret safe.