SHUDDERVILLE SIX Read Online Free PDF Page A

blade on the cold ground, placed his foot on the shovelhead and had to stomp a few times to break the surface, since the turf in this part of the yard was obstinate.
    Live by ‘em, die by ‘em.
    He threw his back into it, working with conviction. Each time the shovel struck a rock, he had to stoop down, pick it up and toss it aside. There was a growing pile of rocks to his right. The soil here was poor for farming.
    Unaware of any utility right-of-ways on his property, Colton thrust the blade with confidence into the earth again. Once the turf gave way, he attacked the stubborn roots, chopping through tubers and rotating the shovel until his arms grew tired. He extracted plug after plug of crumbling soil, dumping it off to one side. He used an old tire iron to pry some of the bigger rocks out, since even the best of shovels couldn’t get all the rocks out. He was digging a pretty big hole, and it would take some time. As his dad used to say, “Death’s gonna get us. Every damn one of us.”
    Not me, Colton thought. He brought death—he would never succumb to death. That’s what he told himself anyway.
    After about an hour, sweaty from exertion, he dropped the shovel and breathed for a minute. Then he walked a few yards toward the old pig trough, where he’d left the body, and picked her up by the legs and dragged her back to the hole. He paused to look at the moon. Ever since they’d landed up there, he wasn’t as mystified as he’d been as a kid. Swiss cheese, his father used to say. The moon is made of Swiss cheese. When in reality, it was dry as dust and a dull gray nothing. Now he exerted himself and pushed the body into the hole, but she landed crookedly with her arms and legs splayed, so he had to go down there and fix her, which made him mad. He needed a shower. He was hot and sweaty, despite the chill in the air.
    He climbed back out of the hole and fetched the trash bag with all her stuff in it and threw that on top of her. Then he knelt down and started pushing big piles of dirt over the side of the hole, clawing with his hands. Big scallops of dirt landed with a plunking sound on the body below. He tossed in the rocks, too, and they made even louder sounds in the moonlight. It was a lot of work. It was exhausting. Why was everything such a hassle? At long last, he stood up and shoveled the rest of dirt back into the hole. Then he patted and tamped it down with his boots. He clapped his hands. Done. Now he had bills to pay. Fucking cable rip-off and electric company.
    Blackwood, New York
    Downtown Blackwood hadn’t changed much. You could still buy chewing tobacco and a plumber’s wrench at Abe’s Hardware. You could still order a classic martini at the Rumba Room on Main. Oh sure. Many of the local mom-and-pops had gone out of business, and the upscale boutique had a “50% OFF” sign in the window, and the Paradise Café was now called the Lucky Duck Café, but the people hadn’t changed. The town’s hopes and dreams hadn’t changed. Benjamin took the highway exit east.
    He drove for hours, listening to the voice getting louder and louder inside his head. Cassie was gone. She had left him this morning. She couldn’t be persuaded to stay. It felt good to be driving. He was trying to outrun his sorrow. He drove eastward, ever eastward, over hills and forging deeper into the woods. He was following the voice. The wind blew the smell of pinesap into the cab of his truck. The road telescoped ahead of him, and tree branches swayed, shaking off curtains of snow. Whenever he took a wrong turn, the voice grew fainter. Whenever he headed in the right direction, the voice grew louder. He used this as his barometer.
    He was feeling a little teary now. He missed Cassie. He didn’t know what he’d do without her. She had changed his life. She had made him want to settle down. Maybe it was silly—thinking you were in love with a woman you’d just met? But Benjamin knew that he would always love her. No