Age So Crammed With Madness

Chapter V: The Aftermath

Too bad you wouldn't know what to do
If the right thing walked right up to you
-- Icon for Hire, Watch Me

The car's engine sounded deafeningly loud in the stillness of the night. The sound of other car engines was audible in the distance, at least five streets away, but Susan's car drowned them all out. I winced and squeezed my eyes tightly closed.

Please, I begged anyone who might be listening, don't let anyone hear us.

Slowly the car moved off. Susan gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Neither of us looked back at the blanket-wrapped corpse. It weighed heavily on our minds, though.

We drove at a snail's pace along the streets of the neighbourhood. Susan clung to the steering wheel like a drowning man would cling to a rope. I huddled against the back of my chair and tried to make myself as unobtrusive as possible.

Susan pulled out onto the main road. After navigating a stretch of surprisingly busy road and two roundabouts, she turned off onto the road leading to Cullybackey.

"Where are we going?" I asked in a hushed voice. Somehow, illogical though it was, I felt speaking loudly would draw attention to us.

"I've no idea," Susan said just as quietly. "Somewhere deserted. Somewhere no one will ever think to look."

"Somewhere far off the beaten track," I agreed, thinking out loud. An idea suddenly struck me. "What about a graveyard?"

Susan took her eyes off the road for a moment to stare at me. "That's... That's a very good idea, actually! Where's the nearest graveyard?"

I had never felt the need to go looking for graveyards before, so I hadn't a clue.

"Look for a church," I suggested. "It'll probably have a graveyard. The older the church, the larger the graveyard and the less likely anyone will be suspicious of yet another grave. I think there's a Presbyterian church somewhere in Cullybackey."

~~~~

There was a Presbyterian church "somewhere in Cullybackey". The only problem was, it had no graveyard and it was placed right smack next to the main road. Susan and I exchanged a look and shook our heads in unison.

We drove on past the church.

An hour later we were still driving along country roads, with the corpse still in the backseat, and with the knowledge that dawn was approaching weighing on our minds. Finally Susan pulled over to the side of the road.

"Look, there's a river there," she said, pointing.

I looked. Ahead of us there was a bridge. I couldn't see the river under it, but common sense dictated that where there was a bridge, there was usually a river.

"We can put the body under the bridge. It'll be ages before it's discovered. The water will wash away our fingerprints. And even if the river carries her downstream, it won't matter because no one will know where she came from. And it's highly unlikely anyone will identify her if she's found, or report her missing." Susan sounded very pleased with her cleverness.

I thought of the police who were searching for Eulalia. Something told me that they might identify her if they found her body.

Susan parked the car at the side of the road. We got out and pulled the body out of the backseat. Rigor mortis had set in, and it was awkward and heavy to carry.

There was no moon. The only light was from the stars, and from a little torch that Susan produced from the car's side pocket. We didn't dare leave the car's lights on in case someone saw them.