Control Freak ✔️

epilogue (chapter 48)

Seguerra had planned to go to the Quinn house and dig up the entire backyard until he found something. With an old shovel hoisted over his shoulder and a lantern at his side, he shoved open the wooden gate. Guided by only the moonlight peeking in and out of the clouds and his lantern, he scanned the yard for a while until he found the spot where he would start digging: the flower patch by the oak tree. He was certain Clark had hidden the bodies there.

In the darkness, he struck his shovel in the soft dirt, grunting as he tossed each mountain of soil to the side. The deeper he dug, the more restless he became.

The night fog and the black earth had become a dark mass that consumed him like a black hole, blotting out the meager starlight with its smoky aura. The ground was loose. This wasn't his first time digging a hole. The deeper he went, Seguerra was all the more certain of what he would find. Someone had been here before.

Finally, he struck something solid. He cupped his hands and started scooping away the dirt: a shoulder, a cheek, a nose. It was the head of Mr. Quinn. Beside it was Mrs. Quinn. He lifted them out and continued to dig.

He struck something else, another soft, yet solid mass impeding his shovel. He retrieved his lantern from above. He got on his hands and knees as he again began scooping away the dirt. The body he found, illuminated by the harsh white light, was frail and gray. Her remaining strands of hair had long lost their color, and her skin had begun to disintegrate. The body was much smaller: just a child. Seguerra wiped the sweat from his brow as he let out a beleaguered sigh.

He examined her whole body as it lay exposed atop the dirt mound. He hesitated to move her. As she lay there, this young thing, he thought of his own daughter. And he thought of Nancy. Lastly, he thought of Clark. This is what he knew about the Quinn family.

He stood there looking at the body for a long time and thinking. He spent so much time in his own thoughts, he didn't look up until the light of dawn slowly spilling into the hole had invaded his trance. He shook himself to action and hoisted the body in his arms, though he felt somewhat guilty about tossing her out of the hole like a sack of garbage. He turned back to look on last time. Something was underneath her: a piece of jewelry, perhaps a ring or a watch, faintly glistening in the meager light. Seguerra set the lantern back down and began gently brushing away the loose dirt. His fingers reached something leathery, soft but worn like withered old skin: a brow. He wiped away the wet soil and plucked out the worms as various other insects skittered off in other directions. And then he saw it: a white orb, glazed over and dim, but staring back at him without blinking.

Seguerra's frantic hands stopped moving dirt. His mouth hung open. As he gazed upon the face of the girl he swore he had just plucked out of the hole, he looked up in the sky, almost uncertain whether he had actually done it, or if he had dreamed it. He went up to check. The body was there. He turned again and found the same face down in the hole, and with trembling lips, too shaky to hold onto the cigarette he so desperately needed, he muttered,

"What the fuck."