Page 1 of Senescence (Inferno World)

Why is there ketchup on my car?

Why is there so much ketchup on me?

I can feel my hands shaking, my body entering a state of shock I’ve never experienced before. Everything is playing over and over again in my head. It’s all jumbled even though I do everything in the same order every day.

Put the money in the safe.

Grab my briefcase.

Check that my keys are in my pocket.

Wave goodbye.

Walk to the very back of the parking lot.

Unlock the car.

Put on my seat belt.

Check my mirrors.

Put the car in reverse.

Thump.

The thump is new. There’s never been a thump before in my routine. There are no speed bumps in the parking lot of my grocery store. People have asked me to have them put in, but it costs too much damn money and my store already hemorrhages cash on the regular.

I get out of the car, but I don’t see anything. It’s late and it’s dark, and I curse past Bob for not getting the city out here to replace the bulbs in the streetlights. An older pickup truck is across from mine but there’s no one inside. I can hear the sliding glass doors of my store opening and closing with late night shoppers. I’ve spent too long here tonight, as I often do, and I know my wife, Stella, isn’t going to be happy.

I turn around and something catches my eye. It’s a shoe; a tiny shoe. Where’s the other one? My mind already knows but I refuse to believe it. I shake my head over and over. No. It’s not possible. There was no one behind me. I checked my mirrors.

My feet betray me as I slowly and carefully walk towards the trunk of my car.

The other shoe.

It’s attached to something but it’s hard to see in this darkness. I bend down and I can feel my stomach roll, my tuna sandwich from lunch threatening to make a reappearance. I fight back the nausea and take another step.

He’s four, maybe five, his eyes closed peacefully, his arms splayed out on either side of him like a winged bird ready to take flight. I can’t tell if his chest is moving up and down because he’s so small. I creep closer, my foot coming in contact with something slick and I fall down beside him.

It’s just ketchup my brain tells me, but my gut knows the truth as does my nose. Not only can I smell the coppery substance coating both me and the boy, I can smell, and now see, the piss staining his jeans. I’ve never seen a dead body before but I’ve heard that the newly deceased tend to purge themselves upon death. At the thought, I catch a whiff of shit and I have to stop myself from vomiting all over this poor child. This poor child I’ve just hit with my Accord.

I want to get up and run. Flee from this place of nightmares I have found myself in, but there are cameras around my store; a feature I was adamant about installing the moment I bought the brick and mortar. However, no one has access to watching them except me. It wouldn’t be hard to erase the footage.

My mind travels a mile a minute just mere inches away from the foul smell of death. I’ve got to make a decision before someone sees me. Do I call the authorities and tell them it was an accident, or do I take off and run, erasing the footage of my involvement, and hope no one comes looking in my direction?

A gravely deep voice sounds from a few feet away and I know my decision has been made for me. I look up to see a bearded man walking over. I don’t know who the man is, but either way, I’m fucked.

“What have you done?” The man growls bending down to pick up the blood drenched boy.

“I--I…” I can’t speak. I have no words. Slowly, I get to my knees and then to my feet, boring a hole into the ground below. I can’t look into this man’s eyes, especially knowing if he hadn’t shown up, I would have run like the coward that I am.

“Who are you,” he barks, much more calmly than I would be given the situation.

I look up into his eyes to see something akin to merriment or joy and it confuses me.

“Bob Atler. I own FreshN’Fast,” I mumble, pointing to the big neon sign behind us.

“Is that so?” He says, taking a step closer to me. Is he going to punch me? Break down into tears? I have no idea. His face gives nothing away.

---