Dust from the warm dry earth lifted up when the Corvette came to a screeching halt. The driver got out of the car and felt the heat of the summer air stroking the left cheek. One glance over the riverbank made the driver smirk. Good! The boat is here, well done blondie!
The trunk of the Corvette was opened. Slender glove covered hands reached in. A plastic bag filled with dirty sheets and two chrome parts of an IV dripping pole were taken out, and placed in a rusty old container near the corner of the shed. Gasoline was poured into the container, drenching the sheets in fluids. The driver removed the gloves shortly to light a match and set the contents on fire. It was quite a spectacle watching the flames go higher and higher. A few breathes allowed the nasty black smoke to reach the lungs, causing a cough, which shook the driver back to the task at hand. Next, the plastic base and the rest of the IV drip joined the flaming party. God this is gonna smell.
Suddenly, the silence and tranquility of the person’s peaceful refuge was disturbed by sirens coming from afar. From the sound of it they were moving in fast though, and heading towards the industrial site. Dammit!! I have to be quick. The driver ran back to the car, removed the last plastic bag from the trunk in one fell swoop. No time to take this stuff out of the bag. With contents and all, the bag was placed on top of the burning pile. Oh man, this better burn really fast or else I’m screwed.
The driver ran back to the car, closed the trunk and ran towards the boat. Shit, almost forgot the most important thing. Back at the car the trunk sheet was lifted. The bloody brown shoes were sitting there where the spare tire used to be, just as planned. On the left, next to the shoes, a cloth was folded around an object. Just when the driver wanted to open the cloth to see if the item was there, realization hit that the sirens had stopped for over thirty seconds…Fuck!
Excerpt of ‘Woven’. The book I wrote.