I watched through the scope as a small figure climbed down from the big car. Recognized Walt just from the way he moved. As I watched, a tall man emerged from the back door. He greeted Walt with a handshake, pumping his hand warmly and opening his arms wide to direct him towards the house. Eight paces and he was gone.

I moved the rifle in tiny increments, left and right. It took time and intense concentration but they emerged from the grainy darkness like the outlines of ships appearing through the fog. Three of them. No, four. Five. Crouched down or laid down, squatting behind low walls or pushed up against the trunks of the trees that lined the back lane. They were dressed like the dead man. They were armed. They were waiting.

I crawled backwards, slithering towards the open door of the barn. Only when I was back within did I feel safe to stand. The pain was intense but I had no choice but to endure it. I stood over the dead man and closed my eyes, wishing there was another way. Then I stripped him. Took his boots and his knife, his scarf and hat. I rubbed the face paint from his cold, rubbery features and smeared it, bloodily, on my own. I pushed my feet into his stinking boots. Cringed at the touch of the cold sticky fabric of his jacket against my skin.

I picked up the pitchfork. Held it like a wizard’s staff. Limped to the entrance and then moved towards the rifle without a sound. I snatched it up, feeling the pleasing heft of it against my hip as I slipped the strap over my shoulder.

And then I started out across the great empty nothingness; a crow-black figure moving towards the hazy rectangle of perfect darkness, eyes fixed on the horizon and the soft promise of light.

FELICITY

Transcript 0026, recorded December 1, 2016

The smell was worse than the darkness. It was worse than the cobwebs and the rotting wood and the mouthfuls of damp feather and fur. It felt like all the worst smells you can imagine were climbing into my mouth and nose; a big python of ugly stink pushing its way into my face even as I wriggled forward like a snake moving out of its skin.