35

Flashback

 

Glenn Mintz had successfully outsmarted the police and retrieved his money, but what now?  He decided to head out of town, drive around in the country for a bit and figure out what to do.  As he slowly navigated the gently winding road out of his neighborhood in the early morning hours, he noticed the waning moon in the sky, seemingly hanging there in the near-cloudless night.  The sight of it sent his mind back to the second day after Tony Sullivan’s funeral.

 

It was a night such as this when Mintz entered the cemetery where Sullivan was buried.  He had parked his car in one of the spaces near the end of the lot at the main building and walked the hundred yards or so to Tony’s grave.  He made sure to stay out of sight of any possible security guards. 

 

The dirt was still somewhat moist as the first thrust of the spade was pushed into the partially settled mound over the coffin.

 

A soft, cool wind pushed the sparse clouds to and fro as Mintz set about his work.  He dug in near silence for almost an hour, removing the fresh-tilled dirt while the moon silently watched him perform the dastardly deed; a deed often referenced in chilling stories of the macabre. 

 

The dark, sinister minions of Hell were chattering among themselves as Mintz excavated until his shovel hit the familiar ‘clink’ of the concrete vault. The scraping of the metal spade skidding across the smooth concrete made an eerie, high-pitched grating sound and he stopped and looked to see if anyone was around.  No one was there to share in the first lap of his goal to get to the coffin; and no one was there to tell him to stop. 

 

Mintz couldn’t see them, but he somehow felt Satan’s cohorts hounding him in his psyche, pushing him silently on while they prattled and hailed Mintz in their own silent abyss. 

 

Another hour was spent breaking up the vault with the small sledgehammer he’d brought.  After about twenty minutes of sweaty pounding, he wished he had a heavier one to make the job go quicker. Finally, after breaking through the concrete, Mintz broke open the coffin near the middle in fairly short order. He shined the small flashlight he’d brought into the casket and reached under the tufting on the side wall.  Moving his hand back and forth several times over the soft fabric, he finally found what he came for...the USB! Luckily, he never touched Sullivan’s body or even his clothes.  

 

Mintz placed the USB device in his pocket and trotted quickly back to his car with his shovel and sledge, all the while checking to see if there was anyone that might have seen him. So far so good. Mintz threw the tools into the front passenger floorboard, then drove slowly away from the cemetery.  It had been a tiring and ghastly experience, but with the USB drive now in his possession, it was totally worth it. Mintz found a convenience store, pulled around back and in one last moment of triumph, he tossed both the digging implements into the dumpster and drove away into the night.  He’d forced himself to stay sober to complete his work at the gravesite, but now he needed a drink. 

 

Within two hours, Mintz was back at his house; drunk and staggering to the bedroom to pass out until who knew when.  It would be hours before he woke up. And still the imps called out Mintz’s name and danced for victory, in their own dark, ghoulish fashion, for Satan himself. 

 

The car’s tires began to kick up dirt and gravel as they drifted onto the shoulder, quickly getting Mintz’s attention.  He swiftly corrected his error and continued driving.  The mistake did wake him up to the fact he needed to quit daydreaming and make a plan of some sort.  God, he hated that.