Surface Deep

-3-

And now the rhythmic clang of metal brought me back from the memory. She was beautiful with her tight curls arranged in a messy bun atop her head. Dark eyes and features. Her figure resembled that of a goddess, but even her pouty lips and the tears wetting her face weren't enough to persuade me against enacting karmic justice.

Compared to the photo, the image I had captured on the peak of a busy weekday was far more beautiful than she was in person because the picture had captured her smile. It was the only time I witnessed it since meeting her. I assumed that smile represented what she thought was freedom. I often wondered if she knew that moment would be the last time she would display a smile or have her freedom.

The metal clanging stopped as she rammed the sharp edge into the hard soil and paused. She held onto the erect pole with both hands, allowing it to act as an anchor and support her body weight. "I have two children that are counting on me—"

"Quiet."

"I'm a single mother. They need me in their lives. They have no one else but their grandma and—"

I lunged forward. "I said shut up." I was in no mood for sob stories and manipulation. Because of that, I didn't even want to know her name, but in doing my research I've unfortunately come upon it, over hearing it when her cheerful coworkers said their hellos and farewells. For all I know, Jessy didn't have kids and didn't want any, telling her coworkers how her career is her primary focus in life.

Fed up with talking and the slow progress, I teetered on the edge of the hole. "Get on your knees."

"Wait, please." She pressed her palms together before her, staring up at me with her tear-filled gaze. "Let me explain."

"Did you allow Jimmy a chance to explain?" What was there to explain, anyway? She grew tired of Jimmy harassing her on the street and took matters into her own hands, believing she'd get away with it. Like she got away with other misconducts by using her beauty and status.

"Sir, please." She begged, lifting the sharp end of the shovel and holding it before her like a weapon, prompting me to pull out my very own. The handgun I used to force her into my car, blindfold her, bind her wrists, and get her all the way to this lonely field on the outskirts of the city. She didn't know the gun contained no bullets, or that rust clogged the chamber from its years in the damp basement, but it worked wonders so far even without having to pull the trigger.

I aimed the nozzle in her direction, targeting between her pretty brown eyes. "Do I need to remind you how they found Jimmy stuffed inside a half-assed hole in the ground behind the junkyard?" Only his elbow peaked above the dirt mound, but as soon as his elbow broke through the surface, asphyxiation seized him. Authorities presumed he had been struggling to free himself from his shallow grave, but the weight of the soil on his already bruised and battered chest had done him in sooner than expected.

As a last attempt at fighting for her life, she swung the edge of the shovel, nearly missing my nose by a millimeter. The rush of cold air chilled the skin on the exposed parts of my face as she swung. I caught the handle in one hand and jumped into the pit to jab the end of the gun into her rib, causing her to let go of the shovel and hunch forward to expel a breath in a grunt.

Her knee met my groin before I had the chance to block it. I stumbled back and coughed at the sudden impact. My gut settled in my throat as I tried coughing the pain away. Finally, able to get my bearings, she was already feet away in an attempt at a dash across the nearly barren field. I took after her, the soles of my shoes pounding against the solid earth. Her exhausted body gave up on her, allowing me to tangle my fingers into the messy bun atop her head to snag her back.

She screamed, and my gun met her temple with a clunk.

Her body dropped to the floor, silenced.

Seconds went by as I attempted to catch my breath and recover. Expecting her waking up while prepping her for her fate, I worked fast and hoisted her limp body over my shoulder. Her weight seemed to have increased in the hours since carrying her the short distanced from the car to the field with her wrists and feet bound. Now standing over the shallow pit, her body dropped into the center. It wasn't until her legs bent and her neck curled that I realized she shaped the hole as an uneven square rather than the rectangle I asked for.

The way she angled her head, her chin touched her chest and one knee twisted in an awkward position. There was no doubt she would be uncomfortable upon awakening, which prompted me to hurry.

I grabbed the shovel and scooped up dry soil to drop over her. With each scoop, thoughts of Karma went through my mind, as if to remind me I was fulfilling the universe's work, which justified my every action. Karma had my back.

The shovel went into the pile of dirt easily as I continued to transfer it back into the hole it came from. I had nearly refilled the hole when a muffled scream sounded from beneath the soil. Followed by immediate silence. I imagined her fright and made distinction to the dread Jimmy must have felt enduring the same fate, struggling with all his strength to burst through the top layer, only for his elbow to be the first and last of him to gain fresh air.

This was justice. An eye for an eye. Karma required nothing less.

Satisfied with the perfectly filled pit and the stillness in the atmosphere, I sat atop my work and finally removed the scarf from the bottom half of my face to breathe in the night's chilly air. The papers in my pocket beckoned my attention, and part of me had an urge to complete the evening by retrieving them.

Under the moonlit skies, peace settled me and finally allowed my eyes to do a meticulous scan of the report. A passage caught my attention and stopped my heart.

An eyewitness who described himself as a friend of Jimmy's stated he could not provide details of the person responsible for the hit and run, however, the assailant cloaked in a large hoodie had the stocky build and presumed strength of a male.

A man?

The one thing that differentiated the person under the soil and that statement was the fact that she was no man.

I stood, no longer at ease with my actions. Was I too hasty? Had I allowed my ego to get the best of me? Now if only I could plead my case to Karma, and it showed mercy. I slumped forward at the realization. Karma was a bitch.

THE END

~~~

Thanks for reading, voting and commenting!

Please show your support by sharing your thoughts in the comment section, and be sure to check out some of my other stories on my profile too.