The Drop Off

A runner does his job.

    The truck rumbled down the empty road as the sun was beginning to set over the horizon. Only three hours to make the run and Trevor was halfway to the border fence. He flipped on the radio in the car, just in time to catch the end of the new Pluto Sip commercial jingle gave way to an old 60's song. He turned up the volume and looked at the truck's bed through the rear-view window.

    The bed was covered with a blue, crinkly tarp that was tied down at the corners, with rope, to the truck. It's sides flapped in the wind, revealing an arm here, a leg there, and a head. Trevor felt a chill go up his spine as two eyes peered from underneath the covering and looked right into his own. He swallowed and turned his attention back to the road. 

    He had been making this run, known as the Drop Off by many, since he was 20. That was four years ago and he'd been making the run every week. Those four years of experience, however, did nothing to change the sinking feeling in his stomach every time he drove from the city to the border fence. He didn't know if it was the fact that he was transporting dead human bodies or the mystery of their disappearance every week. He supposed it was a mixture of the two.

    The city had incorporated the Drop Off since 1995, almost twenty years ago, when the epidemic had finally hit them. Some say that epidemic was caused by pigs, others say it was cows or birds, but that was a whole lot of hot air. No one knew for sure where the epidemic originated, all they knew that was once you got the epidemic, you weren't going to last much longer. That's when runners like Trevor came in. They took the bodies from the streets and transported them to the border fence, past which was the Wasteland where no human foot touched. To Trevor, it felt like some modernization of the body dumping during the Black Plague in the middle ages, seeing the street gutters littered with the dead. The epidemic wasn't airborne, that much was sure, but the bodies stunk like rotten garbage with a twist of lemon. It sickened his stomach.

    Trevor brought the car to a stop at the border fence. He pulled his mask over his nose and mouth and got out of the truck, slamming the cab door shut behind him. He was adorned in an apron and latex gloves, looking, he thought, almost like a sadistic chef, readying a horrible meal. For all he knew that might've been what he was doing. He stood where he was for a second, staring out beyond the fence, into the Wasteland.

    The Wasteland was a desolate, barren place, as it's name suggested. To Trevor it seemed as though nothing could live out there. It was gray and lonely and had a certain scent that seemed to be sulfuric. Trevor always felt goose bumps creep up on his dark skin as the idea of setting foot into that place appeared into his mind. He shrugged it off and got to work.

    He released the knot from the tarp and pulled it up, revealing the dozens of naked bodies in the truck bed. Most of them were steadily decomposing, revealing dead blue skin and nasty red spots of decay. Their smell penetrated Trevor's mask easily as he picked up one body and threw it over the border fence, watching it land in the Wasteland dust with heavy FLUMP. Sometimes, when he threw the bodies, they landed in such a way that broke bones with hideous cracking snaps.

    A half hour later, all of the bodies were over the border fence and Trevor stood beside the truck's driver side door, wondering. The bodies lay in a pile almost as high as the fence, and Trevor knew that, by the end of next week, they would all be gone without a trace. Nobody but runners like himself ever came close to the border fences and they all wondered the same thing: did something take the bodies away and eat them? And, if so, how long would it take them to realize that just beyond this fence was a whole town of living food?

    Trevor shivered and got back into the truck to drive back to the city in hopes of drinking this Drop Off away from his mind.

Reviews

[Elvina CZq]

hmmm.. not what I want to do. It's like a Transporter movie, except that this person transports dead bodies instead of packages. Actually, I kind of picturing myself in there, and yea, not a good idea.

I like your stories. They really can sink deep into a reader's mind... or at least, to mine. Thank you for sharing your horror side. haha :)

[lakaka]

Woah! I clicked the link to this piece, not quite sure of what I would find... but this is absolutely awesome. I could see in my mind the images you portray here, and it was truly captivating, though very sad. I like how, toward the end, you hinted at some sort of enemy that may endanger the living people; it definitely makes me want to come back for more. Awesome job!

[Kevin Chelsea]

I'm wondering the same thing that Buddhistboy73 is wondering, seems like this is just the start of a longer story? What I wonder is does Trevor know any of the people, or even if he can consider them people anymore after doing it so long, that he's dumping. Seems Stephen Kingish (and I really enjoy me some SK), like a offshoot of a stranded The Stand township. Depending on how people enjoy stories, I like how this one goes, but sometimes people need to know a little more about Trevor. Maybe something about his face structure or eye colour. I don't know. Not much though, just that little taste that will match the rest. Where you put it would be interesting too. Just a couple thoughts.

[Buddhistboy73]

I don't normally read this genre of story, but this interested me (actually the title grabbed me). I like the way the story built up and i did identify with Trevor, and the job he did. I liked the details, like the bit about where the epidemic originated + the talk of "the city" makes it kinda intriguing too - what does this city look like + what are its inhabitants like? Very enjoyable read overall + it feels like it could be extended into a longer project?