Retribution

Owen Hindley rolled over and looked at his sleeping wife. She was a beautiful woman, yes. Who wouldn’t notice her? He was a really happy man, and he wanted to keep it that way.

As an M.E., his days could be confusing. Not only was he unsure how long his day would be, but he was also unsure of who he would have to meet. Sometimes there were family members angry at him for cutting up their ‘beloved’ sister or mother.

He had seen a lot of memorable deaths during his years of practice. Some people OD’d on unknown drugs they got from an unknown source. Some people died of unknown causes. Some people blew their heads right off their bodies. The horrifying reality of death quickly left you within a few months at the morgue, although he could be classified as a special breed. He didn’t take months.

Owen got ready and headed to the morgue. As horrific as this might sound, he felt more at home in the morgue than anywhere else. He was familiar with the smells and atmosphere of the morgue; he felt relaxed. The metallic smell of blood, the piercing smell of bleach and the many perfumes a few workers there used. It all smelled comforting.

His thought train was interrupted by his assistant calling and telling the news. Guess who’d found a body, again.

The day wasn’t looking too good already. It had suddenly turned gloomier. At least for Joanna.

Joana Cortez took a deep breath of the crisp morning air, it always succeeded in waking her up. She loved the way the wind whipped through her hair and how it stung her nose and cheeks. How it stole her breath away, and she loved how the world looked fresh and new in the morning.

She glanced at her watch and saw she’d been running for half an hour and would be home in another half hour. After that, the plan was to get ready and head to the morgue.

M.E. Cortez loved her job. She loved how predictable and unpredictable it was. Today, she had four bodies to work on, and she didn’t know how many more bodies she’d get. The atmosphere of the morgue was nostalgic. It was a salad of smells. No one was superior to anyone else there; they all knew they’d end up like their patients. And they respected the dead, immensely.

She ran to clear her head and prepare for the day ahead, which would likely be busy. Dead bodies weren’t fun to hang around, but they didn’t cry out in pain or fight back. They were peaceful and… still.

This was the route she took every morning. She could run here with her eyes closed and not get lost or confused.

Her life wasn’t much really, just normal life. Well, as normal as working in a morgue gets. “Everyone associates you with ghosts.” Her best friend, Anya had declared one night. Joanna had laughed at that.

“You don’t really think, so do you?” She had asked her.

“No, not me. I think you’re normal. But do you know, when we were at school, there was a group of kids that always looked at you weird and would be like ‘Man, I feel like she could kill me and not get caught.’” She stopped and looked innocently at Joanna. “I may have punched one of the guys. They treated me like a queen. I’d come walking in their direction and they’d all turn and walk the other direction. Or they’d be like ‘make way. Make way.’ You know, like they were going to curtesy to me or something. I always found it funny.” Anya burst out laughing.

“Anya you did not! Which ones were they?”

“Remember those kids that never knew which group they were in? They were like emo, normal, paranormal, vampire, gargoyle, Shrek, harry potter. Everything. To be honest, they freaked me out.” Anya laughed some more.

“Oh, those. I tried being friends with one of them. She looked at me like I was a ghost and ran away. I remember standing there confused. Now I get it.”

“Yeah. Are you surprised when you announce you are going to be a forensic medical examiner people will be like ‘oh cool!’? No, everyone becomes scared.”

“Well, no! I just thought we were all mature adults you know. Because how would crimes be solved without M.Es? They should have started respecting me, not avoiding me.”

“I mean; that was their way of respecting you, I guess. They all treated like the queen of the walking dead.” Whatever that meant. Joanna began to think Anya might be a little tipsy from all the wine she’d drunk.

“Are you planning to stay over? Because if you stay any more, I might run out of wine!”

“Okay, okay. I’m done drinking. And no, I have work tomorrow. Unfortunately, our university years are over, which means I didn’t come prepared for a sleepover. And you, my friend, are at least three sizes less than me.” Well, two actually, but that’s beside the point.

Anya had a great body. Joanna had always wondered why she hadn’t gone into modelling, with a body like hers to flaunt; she’d be a millionaire. But when she asked Anya why Anya replied;

“Then how would I make use of my marvellous brains and arguing talent? They’d go to waste. How pathetic.”

“Anya, you could be both. That way, we’d all be able to admire your beauty and brains.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Except, do you remember how pathetic my hand-eye-brain coordination is? And how clumsy as hell I am? Just imagine how often my legs would be flying around on that stage… place.” The ‘stage place’ as she called it was the runway.

“You aren’t that clumsy Anya! How haven’t you fallen in court yet? It’s because you actually have great balance.”

“Me? I have zilch balance. Unlike you, you have grace and agility just like a cheetah.” She stopped to reconsider her word choice. “You know what; never mind!” Joanna laughed. Anya was hilarious. She acted really stupid but was insanely intelligent it brought Joanna down to shame.

Joanna remembered she had to meet Anya at their café tonight. Anya had texted her to say she couldn’t meet their date the night before and had postponed it to tonight. Joanna had accepted this change of events sweetly and was looking forward to it.

Joanna hadn’t grown up in a favourable neighbourhood, her father left here before she had the chance to remember him. Her useless mother depended on drugs to survive. Joanna would be just as shocked as everyone else when her mom woke up in the mornings. Growing up had made her realize what she could do with herself, she could be better than her mother. There’s always a difference between a dad and a father. Anyone can be a father, but it takes a special person to be a dad.

That is why she called her ‘sperm-donor’; father.

Suddenly, she seemed to notice a hunched figure in the distance. Joanna’s curiosity peaked, and she jogged toward the figure. It wasn’t hunched over; it was laying down. On its side. A drunk person, maybe? She bent over to get a better look…

She looked away and gagged. This couldn’t be happening again. Jo grabbed her phone and dialled 911.

“Hi. I want to report a murder.” She choked on her spit and crumpled to the ground. This couldn’t be happening. No, it couldn’t.