Quarry

by John Swan
Eco-noir, first published in blood&aphorisms, summer '95.


Gunshots echoed like cannon-fire in the steel Quonset hut. A bullet found the target, lifting and flinging it against the grey corrugated wall. There was a bright red stain left where the body slid back to the floor.

"Rats," deKuipers said. "I hate rats."

He turned to face me and continued, "If you take this promotion Mitchell, we'll be paying you a lot of money. We think you're the kind of guy respects a position of trust. That's important. Just so you understand. I hate rats."

**********

"This is a bit extreme," Mitchell said. "If we’re going to report what they’re up to, we should be accurate. He never threatened me."

"Where did I write that he threatened you?" Schooley asked. "He offered you a job. He was just making sure you knew your responsibilities."

"Yes, but this stuff about the rats. deKuipers has exterminators to take care of them."

Schooley shrugged against gusts of gravel dust. “Adding colour is all. Colour’s important, you want anyone interested in this story.”

"And about the gun," Mitchell continued.

"Now, I know there was a gun. You said you found a gun in deKuipers' filing cabinet."

"Yes, but I've never seen him or anybody from the company so much as touch it."

"Did you bring it?"

"Yes. Here. I still don't understand what you expect to learn from it."

Schooley took the pistol. "Is it loaded?" He looked at the bullets resting inside the clip and admired the precise, simple technology: purpose and design combined without a quibble. He re-assembled the weapon and slipped it into his coat pocket.

"Did you bring the files?"

"Of course."

Schooley took a compact, 35mm camera out of his pocket. "Hold them open on the car hood. Try to keep your fingers from covering up anything good. Let's get these things photographed so you can return them to the office tonight."

"What about the gun?" Mitchell asked. "deKuipers will miss that first, if he misses anything."

Flash! Schooley fired the camera and Mitchell turned a page. "I'll need it for a while. If it can be connected to something illegal, I'll want to keep it." Flash!

"Just storing a gun in an unlocked filing cabinet is illegal, isn't it?" Flash!They had a rhythm going, a team intent on their work. Flash!

"Yeah. I think so. But we'll need more than that." Flash! "If I can't connect the gun to anything, I'll get rid of it." Flash! "Put it in one of the company's own dumpsters, somewhere, maybe." Flash! "If anyone asks you about the gun," Flash! "just tell them you don't know anything about it."

With a hand anchoring the papers against the night wind, Mitchell turned to face his companion. Flash! The camera blinded him. Schooley switched the camera for the gun. He flicked off the safety, inserted his finger behind the trigger guard and blew a hole in the gap between Mitchell's eyebrows. A breeze lifted deKuipers Environmental Services files and carried them out over the company's abandoned quarry.