Totentanz by Al Sarrantonio

By Al Sarrantonio

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I really think it would have. He loved you, son, always said you were his favorite. " With any other man, he would have ended this speech with a firm squeeze on the shoulder and then separation, to be followed by a walk down the street and a light on a new cigar. " Again a line of sweat broke on the fat man's brow. "Well, now, we never did find that out. Consensus was, it was a hand he had working over there with him, named Lucius. Black fellow. Ran away after the shooting, so we figured it must have been him.

With a sigh, he turned to leave when a sound from a far corner caught his attention. " Reflexively his hand went to his rifle, but he gradually lowered it. " In the failing light he saw nothing in the rear of the barn: a few overturned crates and a stack of yellowed newspapers. Nothing to make a noise. He was about to dismiss the sound when a sudden memory came to him. Cautiously he made his way to the back of the barn, overturning the crates and moving the newspapers aside. After clearing away a thick mat of dust, straw and dirt, he uncovered a wooden door set evenly in the floor.

It was then that he screamed, not in pain but in raging promise, spitting out one word over them, one word that echoed around the low hills long after his feet stopped kicking at the air. " He was jarred from his memories by the rough, metal-scraping sound of the back doors of the truck opening. A dark figure stood outlined there. The figure smoked, and the smoke that came from his long cigarette was as black as his hooded eyes and the suit he wore. He lifted his cigarette to his mouth. His nails were neatly trimmed and pale, his skin as white as flour.

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