Chop Shop by Andrew Post

Author:Andrew Post
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Flame Tree Press
Published: 2019-05-13T11:01:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Whenever she took a corner too sharply, the hearse, which was about as old as Amber, would let out this long, keening shriek of agonized metal. She followed the directions the robot voice on her phone calmly suggested she take, as the part of Minneapolis in front of her headlights was an unfamiliar one. It was mostly factories now, some still functioning but many with their high barbed-wire fences corralling nothing but crumbling, dark structures and smokeless smokestacks. Nondescript office buildings, low, squatty and brick, a lot of them with real estate banners across their fronts reading ‘office space available.’ Very few cars, other than eighteen-wheelers gurgling past, hauling flatbeds with big pieces of machinery and flashing oversized load signs. She stopped at a red light, waited for no one to go the other way, and pulled through when the light changed, taking a left when her phone said to. Your destination will be on the right. She slowed and leaned across the front seat to peer out the passenger side – it was a bowling alley. Lake Calhoun Bowl & Bar.

She double-checked the map app against the address Rhino had texted to her. This was the place, apparently. And as the text had stressed she should park around back, she pulled the hearse through the lot, passing a few pickup trucks with nobody sitting in them, and around to the back of the wide, short building. Behind were a few dumpsters and a trio of refrigerator trucks parked tightly together as if conspiring. She parked and waited, staring out the cracked windshield at the bowling alley’s back door. There was a light mounted above it, flickering, haloed by a fog of bugs, but no one was around, no one was waiting for her. She chose to wait in the car, thinking maybe Rhino was running late. There were no further instructions on what was to come next. An address, a time, and where to park. She didn’t want to come off more amateurish than she already had. Having to ask him to text her step-by-step instructions on how to package a body was embarrassing enough. This is what she did at the funeral home; she knew this part of things, she worked with people, talking them up into more expensive caskets and headstones. So she sat and waited and smoked, listening to the radio but not really hearing it as her heart hammered in her chest.

She checked herself in the mirror, pulled back her hair, let it back down, and sat drumming her fingers on the wheel, heart still hammering. Maybe she should’ve dressed nicer, more professional. They’ll probably be in tailored suits. Well, too late now. Adjusting the mirror, she saw behind her the three coolers in a row held in place with nylon straps where a casket would normally be. She’d closed the hearse’s curtains in the back before leaving, to discourage prying eyes.

Two men stepped outside. Both faces were lit strangely by the light above the door, making their eyes two dark wells.

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