Innocence

Little Piggy

Captain Rudolph Vermaak

It's a month since we buried that bastard Marius. The cement foundation laid for the office building at Palm Springs is not a fitting grave but it seals the evidence nice and tight. I would know. I'm not a Captain for the South African Police Service for nothing after all.

Thokozile isn't answering my calls. Not since I insisted we chop Marius' head off just to make sure he was dead. No one had volunteered, so I got the *panga from the car, slid it under the plastic sheeting wrapped around his body, and proceeded to hack slowly through the meaty neck and stubborn bone. I placed the detached head under his arm like a comical version of that movie Sleepy Hollow.

It's that same movie that plays though my head as I steadily drive down the N3 towards Kempton Park. It's raining. Not heavily but the clouds gather like an angry mob, ready to descend upon an unsuspecting soul. A cool breeze whisks through the partly opened window where I blow a stream of smoke into the night air. Flashes of light from the street lamps illuminate the wet winding road and it sparkles like stars. It's a beautiful sight. As beautiful as Thokozile's glimmering dark eyes, accentuated by her strong jawline that can ease into a glorious full smile. Only I haven't seen that smile in a long time. Too long in fact - a whole fucking month long. So I'm driving up to her place now, because I have to see her. She can't ignore me forever.

The bandscan crackles to life, disrupting my thoughts.

"Possible one-four in Eden Glen, Sebenza. Nearest officers please respond."

Gilooly's interchange looms ahead of me, the bridge above starved off life while a small trickle of traffic slides into the left lane towards O.R Tambo. Eden Glen is ahead of me if I take the Modderfontein off-ramp, and it's also not far from Kempton. I pick the scanner up to respond when searing pins stick through my fingers. I drop the scanner.

"Fuck!"

The cigarette drops from my lips and lands on my lap, burning the pants before I can push it off. The radio rattles off its hinge, bouncing on the gears, and onto the floor. I stick my fingers into my mouth to quell the pain but it's already gone.

What the hell was that?

I check ahead and the road is still clear then reach down looking for the discarded handset. My eyes leave the road for a second or so where I find the handset just under my seat. I look back out the windscreen and a silhouetted figure skulks across the road. Headlights illuminate the ashen clothes of the pedestrian but my instincts have already taken over and I attempt to swerve onto the left lane.

A horn blares behind me.

Wheels screech and the cigarette smoke is replaced by burning rubber.

Headlights flicker against the side mirror and I swerve back. The figure looms closer and makes no attempt to move. Like a statue. Pumping the brakes is a bad idea, so I sweep my head and check the emergency lane on my right and it's empty. I swerve aside.

Time trickles by like rain drops on the windscreen as the car slides sideways.

Smoke is swirling from somewhere under my seat where the smouldering cig is still breathing its last. The wipers stagger across the windscreen, collecting straying droplets like a lazy hand swiping at flies. The figure draws closer and the nose of the car is already halfway past when it begins to crumble. The figure. It twitches. The legs erratically spasm in clouds of grey dust, the erratic tics travelling up the thighs, through the hips, and up the chest, shaking off the ashen robes to reveal the slick, transparent plastic underneath. Tiny jolts move along the shoulders and arms and hands like a malfunctioning robot. Where the head should be, is the snaking road of the N3, still glistening wet from rain.

"Hello... piggy."

Marius.

His voice resounds in my ear as though he is sitting right next to me. Then I smell it. A wet earthy stench. Like concrete.

I swivel my head and he's there. His head. It floats on the headrest of the passenger seat, tilted to face me. The eyes are covered in wet concrete that dribbles down onto his slack face still contorted into a placid grin. His mouth droops open and more concrete spills out only it's coated in a dark viscous liquid like congealed blood. A single bone sticks from under the serrated skin that was his neck, dripping more of the concrete blood onto the seat.

A scream erupts from my throat.

It is echoed by the wheels of my car.

The side barriers are suddenly in my view and everything snaps forward as the car smashes into the concrete barricades. The world is replaced with the sickening crunch of crumpling metal. The windscreen shatters and then the world slowly tilts. My neck feels like it's been dislocated. My chest and shoulders throb as though a hammer is continuously bashing the insides. The seatbelt locks, holding me up and I'm looking at the rushing sky through the rippling wet street while a screech plays the backtrack to the almost serene view.

A horn blares over the ringing in my ears and rocks me back to reality.

Approaching headlights blind me before another resounding crunch cascades over everything, smapping me backwards again before my head smashes against the streering wheel.

Darkness.