SkyDie, Page 2

  #

  The next morning, Liam marched into next tourist information centre her could find, eager to gain the information he so desperately needed.

  ‘Hi, I’m just travelling and I was wandering where the most out of the way place is around here? I mean, somewhere where nobody goes? I’m a backpacker you see, and I have a real thirst for adventure that other people wouldn’t understand! I want somewhere really off the beaten track where I can have a good walk, y’know?’

  The statuesque bald man at the desk stared at Liam with blank, distant eyes, not moving a muscle.

  ‘Hot tub?’ He uttered the words with a low burr, without emotion.

  ‘Erm, no, not a hot tub. I want to know where my friends and I can go walking somewhere out in the wilderness. Do you know anywhere?’

  ‘Hot . . . tub?’

  Liam was puzzled. Looking around the building, he spotted lots of posters and signs relating to hot tubs. In his weary state he had fallen for the age-old backpacker con, and was fooled into thinking an establishment was tourist information simply because it had a big ‘i’ sign outside it. This establishment, like many others, was simply a front for local businesses. Liam was too preoccupied to notice.

  ‘No I don’t want a hot tub. Please just tell me where I can go walking!’

  ‘. . . Hot . . . tub?’

  The man’s piercing eyes were working their evil magic. Liam was speechless, powerless to resist. The final blow was delivered in an especially low, booming voice, with a slowly twisting face that was maddening to the eye.

  ‘Hot. . . tub?’

  ‘OK I’ll buy the damn hot tub!’

  Fifteen minutes later, and with all the necessary paperwork filled in, Liam was one proud new owner of a middle of the range hot tub that would be delivered to his home address. Jumping back into the campervan, his joy was tempered by the realisation that he still had no idea where he was going to dump the bodies. Turning the engine on, and prizing his girlfriend’s cold dead hand from the gearstick, he slowly pulled away.

  A few hours later, still on the road, Liam received the phone call he had been dreading. It was from a concerned parent, anxious to know where their offspring was and why they hadn’t been on Skype in so long.

  ‘Hi Liam, how are you? We were just wondering if you know where Ryan is? He hasn’t been in contact the last few days.’

  Liam glanced back at Ryan, slumped against the window with an army of ants crawling into his gashed eye socket. The eye was long gone.

  ‘Oh he doesn’t feel too well at the moment. He said he’d Skype as soon as he can.’

  His mother sounded slightly disappointed, but not overly concerned.

  ‘Oh dear, well can I just have a quick chat with him then?’

  Liam glanced over again at his dead friend. A section of his spine was sticking out from his throat, and the flesh was starting to go mouldy inside.

  ‘His voice isn’t too good at the moment sorry! Just a sore throat I think. I’ll make sure he messages you.’

  Liam hung up at this point, before Ryan’s mother suspected anything untoward. To be sure of this, he took to messaging her on Facebook on Ryan’s behalf.

  ‘Hi mum, it’s me. Sorry I couldn’t speak on the phone earlier, not feeling too well. Sure I’ll be better soon. By the way we’ve booked up to do shark cage diving next week, should be good! I got it on the cheap because the company has a dodgy safety record, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. Speak soon! X X X’

  Liam was particularly proud of the shark diving story, which he hoped would serve as an excellent reason why his friends were all missing later on. With that little niggle dealt with, the question of where to dispose of the bodies reared its ugly head once again. Liam drove long into the night, down the windiest roads, way off the tourist track, where no campervan had ventured ever before. He only stopped every hour or so to vomit by the roadside and spray deodorant into the back to get rid of the lingering smell.

  By midnight, Liam had found nothing, but he was within a day’s driving distance of the rental depot. He pulled up at the next campsite he could find, and set up the campervan for the night: plugging in the power supply, drawing all the curtains, washing the dishes, filling up the van with fresh water, and placing the assortment of bodies and body parts underneath the pull out bed. After a delightful home cooked meal that was only slightly marred by the smell of dead flesh, Liam felt much better. He knew he would find a solution sooner rather than later.

  He found the solution, sooner. The genius idea came to him whilst using the campsite toilet - a low tech deep drop ‘pit’ system. A big hole. The perfect place. Using a dull knife that was supplied with the campervan kitchen set, Liam worked quickly. Placing each cadaver upon the bed with quiet dignity and decorum, he sawed the remaining torsos into smaller, more manageable chunks. Using a bucket to transport body bits to the toilet, the remains were chucked down the pit with utmost respect. A once over with the sponge and some fairy liquid, and the campervan was clean. A dab of alcohol hand gel later, and Liam was clean too.

  A beautiful morning greeted the young backpacker, whose troubles seemed to be fading away already. After a quick breakfast he pulled out of the campsite, giving a subtle nod and a smile that suggested a final ‘goodbye’ in the direction of the toilet. Now all he had to do was return the campervan to the depot and collect the all important deposit.

  A few hours later, Liam reached the depot. The staff gave the vehicle a customary inspection for signs of damage but nothing untoward was found. The deposit was returned in full, and the weary traveler took caught a taxi to the airport and was soon on his way home.

  #

  Waking up mid-flight, Liam recoiled in shock. He had made a grave error - failing to dispose of Chloe’s skull that remained in the glovebox! The rental company had not spotted it, but Liam was sure that the next person to rent the vehicle would. A few minutes of panic overwhelmed the weary backpacker, until he realised it was safe to assume that the average backpacker renting the vehicle would want nothing to do with the offending item. They too, would not want the hassle of complaining to the rental company, and they too would want to avoid the police sniffing around, fearing arrest for typical backpacker offences.

  Liam got back off to sleep quickly, knowing that, if the next backpacker to rent that vehicle was anything like him, he was going to be fine.

  ####

  Thanks for reading! If you have some time please write a review! Otherwise, please wait patiently for my next publication. . .

  Cheers, David.

  About David Bond

  Follow me on Twitter: twitter.com/D_James_Bond

  Subscribe to my blog: dbond34.wordpress.com

  Other books by David Bond

  Life and Death on the Tracks: A dark short story that won second prize in the Darker Times Fiction Competition

  The Sim Diary: A comedic short story, that won an honorary mention in the Five Stop Story fiction competition. The influence for the story is difficult to pinpoint, although a childhood spent playing a certain computer game may have something to do with it

  A Sweet Blitz: A short but sweet wartime fable that sees a young girl driven to madness in the pursuit of forbidden chocolate. . .

  Mister Miser: A chilling story of power versus love in a strange new world

  Thanks for reading!