Out For Blood 19

When young Billy Fisher left Martinsville Police Station and Courtroom he headed back into the woods. He knew no one would be around to see him because the sky had clouded over and it might just rain. However, he did see Ella going into the police station to see the new blood, so he’d best be careful.

Billy wasn’t scared of the rain though; he had a nice new car to sit in. That ugly fucker Robertson can go and fuck himself if he thinks he can tell Billy Fisher what to do. Okay, so the girls car was supposed to go over Tarboro Ridge, well it didn’t, and now it was Billys’. So fuck you Robertson.

Billy had parked Vickys' car in the woods near Old Liberty road, a long-time deserted stretch of the highway surrounded by woods on one side and clay pits on the other. Anyone using this road would either be on their way to or coming from Martinsville, or they were merely lost. There would be no other reason.

The clay excavated from the pits had been used for the manufacture of bricks, until twenty-five years ago when the place was closed because better and cheaper methods had been devised; that and the fact that the workers were going missing almost on a daily basis. Each pit over the years, and there were around a dozen of them, had filled with rainwater; that was another reason nobody from Martinsville came up here.

Billy eventually reached Vickys' car… ‘My first convertible.’ he thought. He opened the trunk and took out two suitcases and a large holdall. The ones he told Hal Robertson he had burnt earlier, putting them on the rear seat he climbed into the front. In the far off distance he could hear the rolling sound of thunder. ‘At least an hour away.’ he thought, ‘Plenty of time.’

Billy pulled the holdall onto the passenger seat, and then opened the two suitcases on the back seat. All he found in them were clothes and cosmetics, all absolutely useless to Billy. He then unzipped the holdall on the passenger seat. Inside it was a hair dryer… no good. A few hair brushes… no good. Some make-up… no good. Some deodorant and a whole pile of clothes, and all no good.

‘Holy shit!' he shouted. Billy had found a small baggie in one of the side pockets of the holdall. He carried on looking until he found papers to wrap some in, then he rolled himself the thickest joint he could, and lit it. ‘Wow, this is good stuff!’ he exclaimed to himself.

Billy turned the ignition key and switched on the cars stereo. The ‘Arch Enemy’ CD was still in there, strangely enough Billy liked it and turned up the sound. He tried to open the drivers’ window to let out some of the smoke but it was stuck fast. He unclasped the roof from the windshield and peeled it back, then getting back into the drivers' seat he turned up the stereo even more.

Against his better wishes Billy had decided when he had finished his smoke he would drive the car to one of the bigger pits, and then push it over the edge into the deep muddy water; like he had done with that investigators’ car yesterday.

It hadn’t taken Billy very long to get stoned; in fact the first track of the CD was still playing away at full volume. Billy laid his head over the top of the seat, grinning and blowing smoke rings at the low cloud above he cheerily puffed away on his joint.

By now the thunder had neared punching itself through the air in its bid to be noticed, the clouds overhead had thickened almost to black holding a reservoir of rainwater, soon their Dams would burst in submission. But Billy Fisher didn’t care… he was totally out of it.