Digging Your Own Grave

The guy in the trunk wasn’t making any noise and I started to worry I had hit him too hard when I jumped him. There wasn’t much I could do about that now and so I continued to drive. I had made this trip enough times that I could almost make it in my sleep.

I saw my turn coming up and hit the turn signal as I remembered Megan. The one time I had brought her with me, she had thought I made a wrong turn and just wouldn’t let it go. I kind of missed her, not so much her nagging, but she was a great old lady in a lot of ways. She knew to keep her trap shut about my work and not to ask too many questions. It was just the nagging that got on my nerves.

The miles rolled by as I remembered her face when I stuck the gun in it. That shut her nagging up real quick. I should have listened to Joey and never told her anything about my work, but what did he know, well nothing now that his brains had been blown out the back of his skull.

The last gas station for miles came up on my right and I pulled in. The guy at the pump gave me a nod as he filled my car up and cleaned the windshield. The recognition written clearly on his face. That wasn’t good for me or him. I should see what Marcus wanted done about it, but there was always the chance he decided that it was me who had to go for a ride. I could take the guy out myself, but then questions would be asked.

I pulled away from the pumps and went to check on the guy in the trunk. A little blood trickled from the cut on his head, but he seemed to be breathing. That was good, digging holes wasn’t something I really liked doing. I had dug a few over the years, for Megan and the guys I had hit too hard, but most of the bastards had dug their own graves. That always confused me, they knew they were dead,but they never argued or refused. They dug their hole and when it was done,I would put a bullet in their heads. It was a lot easier filling in the hole afterwards, but the digging was a pain.

The turnoff into the woods came up and I glanced in my mirror before making it. Got to be careful, Little Joey hadn’t been careful and led the cops right to his dump site. I chuckled as I thought of him. He had worked for Marcus like me until he was busted. He knew that his family would be taking care of if he kept his mouth shut, but he sang like a songbird. Would have taken Marcus and the whole organization down, but Marcus had somebody get close to him and slit his throat. That wasn’t the end of it, Marcus was a vindictive bastard, I took Little Joey’s family out here and buried them. I ended up digging that grave, the wife’s crying had gotten on my nerves.

The dirt road wound its way through the woods and came out in front of an old house, if you wanted to be kind, in the middle of the woods. The house and property were owned by an old woman that now lived down in Florida in some retirement home. I didn’t know how she was connected to Marcus, but it was best not to ask. Asking too many questions and you end up going for a ride out to someplace like this. I looked the place over as I pulled in, making sure there were no signs of anybody coming around.

It only took a couple hard slaps to bring the guy in the trunk around. I dragged him out and dumped him on the ground. This is where things can get tricky. A lot of those I brought up here over the years started begging or yelling at this point. Those that wanted to yell weren’t that bad, it only took them a few minutes to realize nobody was going to hear them. The beggars were the ones that got on my nerves and most of them were the tough guys, guys who knew the score.

I left him lying there tied up as I ducked inside the house. The shovel was right where I left it, another thing I learned from the mistakes of others. Never carry the shovel with you if you can help it. A shovel in the trunk gave the person back there a weapon and you wanted to avoid putting a weapon in their hands until you had to. Beyond that having a person in the trunk was kidnapping, but if you also have a shovel it starts to look like you plan to bury their body.

I dropped the shovel and pulled my gun. That usually kept the person from trying anything stupid, not always, but usually. I made sure the guy on the ground saw it as I made sure it was loaded, some idiots will get it in their heads the gun isn’t loaded unless you show them.

“I’m going to free your hands, try anything stupid and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

He nodded and I used the toe of my shoe to flip him onto his stomach. I didn’t take chances, zip ties and rope could be broken, but good old stainless-steel cuffs could only be unlocked or picked. I had never had anybody pick the cuffs before, but there was always a chance,so I keep my gun aimed at him.

Once the cuffs were unlocked,I moved back quickly. Some guys tried to fight at this point,a few had even come close to landing a blow, but this guy didn’t even move. I waited for him to roll over, but he stayed right where he was.

“I don’t have all day. Untie your feet and get up.”

He rolled over and sat up to untie his feet. He looked around for his shoes but didn’t see them.

“On your feet.”

“Where are my shoes?”

“Gone, you won’t need them.”

“What happens if I don’t?”

“Don’t what?”

“Stand up?”

“I shoot you.”

“So I stand up and you march me into the woods and shoot me anyways.”

“You live longer if you do as your told.”

He laughed, yeah, he actually laughed as he looked down the barrel of my gun. I knew some bad asses, but I don’t think any of them would laugh when looking down the barrel of a gun. It was a little unnerving like he knew something I didn’t, and it was going to end up biting me in the ass.

“Get on your feet.”

He chuckled and climbed to his feet. “Those shoes were expensive, Italian leather and hand stitched; I’m going to miss them.”

“Not for long.”

“That is true.” He picked up the shovel. “So, can I pick my spot, I mean I would really like someplace that is kind of shady.”

“No, you fucking can’t pick your own spot. That way.” I pointed and he headed in the direction I pointed.

The path was mostly overgrown, but that was good, the less traffic a dump site gets the less chance some idiot would stumble over a body. I kept my gun trained on his back as we walked deeper into the woods. I had been doing this for over twenty years and this is the first asshole to crack wise, it was like he was looking forward to being planted in some unmarked grave.

Some of the people I bring up here try to run once we get into the woods, that is why I strip off their shoes and socks. Walking barefoot in these woods is bad enough but running is nearly impossible. Only one of the runners made it any distance before the rocky ground tore up their feet bad enough to stop them. This guy walked along with the shovel over his shoulder like he was out for a Sunday stroll not even flinching as he stepped on the rocks and shit on the ground.

My dump site was in a thick patch of trees, I guess all the decomposing bodies was good for them. It was a bit of a pain digging a hole deep enough that animals wouldn’t dig it up, but worth it since it was well hidden. I looked around and spotted an open spot. You don’t want to dig up an old body when attempting to plant a new one,you end up doing twice the work that way.

“There.” I pointed with the barrel of the gun and he walked over and looked around.

“Nice, I think I can be comfortable here.” He took off his suit jacket and folded it neatly before laying it on the ground.

“You are going to be dead, so I don’t think you need to worry about comfort.”

“My soul Peter, that is what I am concerned with being comfortable.”

“Just start digging and shut your trap.”

He started to dig. “Oh, I’m sorry you don’t believe in that stuff, cause if you did you wouldn’t be killing people for a living.”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut your trap?”

“But talking as you work makes the work go faster or at least that is what I think.”

“Shut the fuck up before I put a bullet in you.”

“But Peter if you shoot me you are going to have to dig this hole yourself.”

God I almost wished this guy was one of those whining beggars who crapped themselves when they realized I was going to kill them. I started to squeeze the trigger, but I stopped realizing that he was right so I would just let him talk.

“Put your damn back into it.”

He did start to work a little harder, some tried to drag it out, but this guy was actually putting effort into it.

“Back to my soul or more exactly my faith. I didn’t always have faith;at one point I was a lot like you. I broke the law and hurt people; I was a criminal really. A drug dealer which I think in some ways is worse than what you do. Drugs kill people’s souls you just kill them, while you do have a ritual and all, but it is fairly quick, my way took longer and hurt all the people in their lives.”

“Like I give a good crap what you did or who you were, just fucking dig that hole.”

The man stopped to take off his shirt revealing arms and a chest covered with gang tats.

“I’m digging, I want to finish this as much as you do. So, where was I? Oh yeah so, I was a drug dealer and a gang member as you can probably tell. I was happy I guess you could say, or I thought I was. I didn’t know true happiness until I gave myself to God and began to preach his word, but nothing I can do in this life will ever make up for all I have done.”

“God you sound like a fucking whiny little bitch. Boohoo I hurt people and I feel bad about it. Get over it, well actually you don’t really have time. You know the one thing you did wrong, the only thing you did wrong? It wasn’t dealing drugs or running with gangs. It was crossing Marcus Jones. Now you pay for it with your life.”

“How exactly did I cross a man I don’t even know?”

“I don’t fucking know, but you did, or you wouldn’t be out here digging your own grave.”

“So, what happens when you end up in my place? You know it will happen sooner or later.”

I almost laughed. This was new, nobody had ever tried this approach before, and it did make me think. Chances are good that if I don’t get busted sooner or later Marcus would decide I knew too much and had to be removed. I would end up digging my grave, but would I have the nerve to face it like a man or would I beg and plead like some bitch. I would really like to believe I would face it like a man, but I had seen a lot of tough guys crumble in that position.

I saw the hole was getting pretty deep and got ready to end it. I don’t tell them when it is coming, I just shoot them. You give some people a warning and they decide to fight or run, both were a pain, so you just take aim and put a bullet in their skull as they dig.

I pulled the trigger as he bent to get another shovel full of dirt. The shot was pretty damn good, catching him at the base of the skull it blows the top of his skull out. He dropped like a sack of potatoes and I put my gun away.

Like I had said filling in the hole wasn’t as hard as digging it, but it still was a pain and took time, time I spent thinking about the guy’s last words. I should get out, just take off I had money put away in places Marcus didn’t know about. I didn’t have a wife or even a girlfriend since Magen so no ties. I could just disappear, but Marcus wouldn’t ever stop looking so I would spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.

I finished packing the dirt and was started back on the path when I heard something. I reached for my gun when a dozen guys in camo carrying automatic weapons surrounded me. A fraction of a second my hand hovered above the butt of my gun then I raised my hands.