Dirt: A Story of Revenge - Part 4/4

Frank.

Charlie and I sit outside the apartment in the darkened car. The lights are still on inside the building. Rain falls hard around us. Water flushes down the street carrying bits of paper and fallen leaves towards the gutters that line the street.

Charlie removes his glasses and lifts away the bandage that covers his eye. Charred flesh and fluid filled sacs lift atop the whitened cornea. A stream of yellow liquid spills from his eye upon his touch.

“Jesus,” Charlie whispers, whipping away the substance and pressing a new pad to his eye. He pulls a roll of medical tape from his pocket and tears away a length.
“You need to go to a hospital.”

I try not to grimace as the stream makes its way past the patch. Charlie lets out a soft chuckle.

“Don’t spoil your appetite,” he says.

The two of us share a laugh. It reminds me of old times. I nod towards the apartment. The light still shines through cracks in the closed curtains. No movement comes within.

“Why are you helping me, Charlie?” I ask him, “Why not give me up?”

Charlie finishes laying a second strip of medical tape across the pad. He shrugs. “It’s the right thing to do. It’s what you would’ve done.”

I nod. The light inside the apartment vanishes. I draw the syringe from my pocket and remove the cap from the thick needle attached. Clear liquid shifts inside.

***

Charlie takes the front. I head round back. It’s an easy lock to force.

The apartment is dark. The brief light of the world passing through the back door illuminates my path. I’m in his pantry. The walkway divides into two paths past the room, one towards the front door and living room, the other to the bedroom. A shadow passes in the black. I can make out Frank’s form as he slithers his way towards the front.

I turn the syringe I hold around like a knife. My thumb rests upon plunger. I grope my way around the corner and stand in the hallway. I can’t see his face, but I know he’s there, faced away from me. He takes his place beside the front door and waits.

The front lock shoots out and tumbles to the floor, freed from its home. The door swings open on unoiled hinges. Frank keeps it that way, in case someone comes for him. He should’ve checked the back. There comes a soft creek as Charlie inches his way inside. A sliver of light from the street beyond makes its way through. I can see them both.

Frank doesn’t waste time, I’ll give him that. He brings the butt of his gun down upon Charlie’s wrist. There’s a small crack and Charlie lets out a muffled groan. The gun drops from his hand. He pushes Frank back and reaches for the weapon but Frank already has his own drawn.

“Charlie,” Frank says, letting out a soft sigh, “figured you’d know better.”

He doesn’t hear my approach. I lay a hand upon his shoulder. The other holding the syringe rises.

“Hello Frank,” I whisper.

I stick the needle into Frank’s neck and press down on the plunger. He’s out.

***

I pull Frank from the car and drag his body through the dirt towards the pit. A rock cracks against his skull and forces him to consciousness.

“Wha-what the fuck?” he asks, trying to shake the confusion from his mind.
“What the fuck, indeed,” I reply.

I continue past the trucks and up to where the pit lay. The rain has softened the inside to mud, wet sand, and floating rock. I lift Frank to his knees and hold him by the scruff of his t-shirt, leaning him forward over the edge. He struggles to move but his hands are tied. The drug still moves strong through his system. His legs threaten to buckle beneath him. He glances from the watery grave behind him to the suit of plastic I wear over my own clothes.

“Really?” he asks, slurring his words together, “Didn’t think you were so big on irony.”
“You never knew a lot of things.”
“Your bitch is still dead. You know that?” Frank whispers, his lips forming that familiar grin. His teeth shine. “This won’t bring her back. I still took her.”
“I know, but this helps.”
“I’ll find a way to come back for you.”
I draw my pistol and put a round in each of his knees. “No you won’t.”

It doesn’t take much of a push for him to fall back into the pit. He manages to keep his head up for a few seconds, his screams and cries sounding out along the empty site, but then he sinks. I remove the plastic cover and toss it in with him. I wait long enough to know he won’t be back.

---

Redemption.

Charlie stands at the car dressed in a white suit with hands crossed. A massive swab of cloth covers his eye, hiding the stitching beneath. A cast forms around his wrist. I watch the ceremony from across the cemetery. The winch lowers Lily’s coffin into the grave. Her loved ones surround her. Mrs. Collins weeps against her husband’s chest.

A priest makes his way to the front of the proceeding. I can’t hear his words but he speaks for some time. He lifts his hand up and makes the sign of the cross, signaling the end of his eulogy. Family and friends take their turns to speak their peace. The first of the mourners begin to part. I hear Charlie approach.

“Thomas, we need to go,” he says.
“I know.”
I still don’t move. Charlie speaks. “You loved her, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And she was happy?”
“She was.”
“Then wherever she is, she’s waiting,” Charlie says, “Now get in the damn car.”

As I make my way to the waiting vehicle I feel the tears that run down my cheeks. I don’t wipe them away. We slide into the car. Charlie puts the seat back and shuts his one good eye. I slip the key into the ignition and turn. The engine roars to life. I put the car in reverse and back up, watching the last of Lily’s loved ones depart, then I drive away.