The van pulled into a literal dump. Jesus, the trash goes on for miles. And that smell… Lucas had followed the van as it headed to the opposite side of town as the mill, before hitting the highway. Lucas had been careful not to get too close on the country roads. Not a lot of cars around. As a result, he was parked on the right side of the dump’s gate-complex. Looking through his binoculars, he could see the Bearded man dragging the black bag near the dump’s front entrance. The supervisor is going to see them, little bit too public to dump a body? To Lucas’s surprise, the supervisor opened the gate, waiving the bearded man in. On the pay roll, it would seem. It’d be hard not to advance my career with this footage. Trick is not ending up next to that bag.
Lucas put the binoculars down, picked up his phone, and texted Karen “They’ve stopped at dump, have footage of supervisor letting them bring body in. Call police?”
Twenty seconds later, DING!, Karen responded “NO police. Think you can sneak in? Get a confirmation on the body?”
Lucas’s mouth dropped, as he texted back “They will literally kill me. We shouldn’t be fucking with these people more than we have! We have enough for a pretty intense story as it is!”
“You think putting our names on the article won’t get us killed? We need stone-cold evidence on these dcks. They clearly have some sort of political pull. Unless we get the whole story, and corroborating evidence, we can’t publish safely. Not ‘till they’re already behind bars.” She’s right. Shit.
“Alright. All good on your end?” Lucas sent, after some thought. Better just get it over with.
Thirty seconds later, Karen wrote “Chemist just met up with his buddy, the one with the creepy/rusted toolbx. Few miles of 43.” Wait. They coming here?
Getting out of his car, steeling himself, Lucas responded “We are at the dump straight off forty-three. Going in. If I don’t send txt soon, you know what happened. Also, you owe me a ducking drink, Karen.” Lucas silenced his phone, before slipping it in his pocket. Walking to the security fence, Lucas checked the remaining storage space on his contacts. Two-hours. May as well leave ‘em running. The fence was a nasty ten feet of tight-weave steal leading to a razor-wire. Okay, can’t cut that. Soil’s fucked. Can’t go under. And I’m not brave enough to climb through the razor wire, even if it doesn’t happen to also be electrified. At least two of the three men went in there, and the super visor followed. Gate’s still open. That’s my best bet. Hurrying Lucas half ran, half crouched, along the groove in between the fence and the road. Ninety meters later he reached the fences bend. Okay, nice and slow. Crouching, he peered around the side of the gate. Looks like they all went in. Lucas took a deep breath, perspiring in anticipation, before jogging left around the corner and B-lining towards the now-open gate.
Around the corner, about seventy meters into the dump, four men stood. Two of the soldiers had shovels, and were digging into the ground at the edge of a large trash pile. Not the most appealing place to be buried. There was a small shed halfway between the pile of trash Hunter was behind and the men. That’s my best bet if I want to get their faces on video. Lucas carefully watched the men, all of which were now digging, aside from the large bearded fellow, who was pacing. He must be the leader. As the bearded fellow turned away, Lucas made for the shed. Keep low, move fast, don’t die.
Now, out in the open, Lucas had a better view of the dump. Large areas were designated with signs. To his right, away from the men, a large blue sign read “Recyclables”. Ahead of him, a large sign read “Compost and Inert Metals”. To his left, near the killers, a sign read “Non-recyclables and Approved Chemicals.” Figures. Bury the corpse in a place with the least foot traffic. Monsters. As Lucas reached the small, red, and wooden shed, his phone vibrated twice in quick succession. Sorry Karen, little busy. Carefully, Lucas peered around the corner with the left side of his face, amplifying the zoom on his left contact. Turn around, Mr. Wolf. Show me your pretty little murdering eyes. The bearded man was still pacing, currently facing away from Lucas. Lucas bit his tongue, inching back slightly as the bearded man started to turn. As he turned, he took a few steps, paused and looked to the shed. Lucas’s blood ran cold as Mr. Wolf made direct eye contact with him. What…the fuck? No! Lucas swung his back, standing quickly. Okay think. They’re armed. Can’t run to the exit, need to break line of sight. But the small shed was surrounded by a pile of trash, forming a cul-de-sac of sorts. Come on, Lucas! What were you thinking? Why didn’t you climb the damned pile! Lucas turned, sprinting from out the side of the shed, the way he’d come. As he turned the corner, the bearded man grabbed his small, right shoulder, squeezing with inhuman strength. How do he get over here so fast? That was like two seconds! I’m done for!
Smiling, cruelly, Mr. Wolf asked “What are you doing all the way out here, boy?” Lucas met the man’s gaze, tightening his jaw and bearing his front teeth through slightly parted lips. “I said,” The man punched Lucas in the stomach with his right arm, still gripping Lucas’s left shoulder. “What are you doing?”
Coughing, Lucas spit up a wad of bloody mucous, before responding “Tracking the sick fucks who were helping the chemist.” Mr. Wolf’s smile widened, as the two other soldiers approached. Wolf moved his left hand to the back of Lucas’s slim neck, pulled him closer, and pushed him up against the red barn face first. “Ooohf. Fuck you!” This isn’t going well. Sorry Karen.
Laughing maniacally, Mr. Wolf called to one of the soldiers “Eh, Johnston, gimme your knife for a second, I’m gonna tear his little pussy in two.” Struggling to breathe against the pressure of the wall and Wolf’s enormous hand, Lucas could hear a man walking towards Wolf. This is it.