Radioman (A 2/19th Spinoff) - Complete

Buried Past

I pressed the button and the two caskets shuddered for a moment before starting to lower with the whine of gears and pulleys.

Off in the distance lightning flashed.

Aine moved next to me, her small hand sliding into mine and squeezing gently. Warm moved up my arm, smothering the singing emptiness in my chest.

Thunder, muted and quiet, rolled over us.

I watched, silently, as the caskets lowered all the way down. One grave-digger climbed into the backhoe, the other jumped into each grave, popping the cargo strap ratchet, then climbing back up. I handed him the switch and he pressed it again, the freight frames lifting back up out of the grave.

The grave-digger went to offer his condolences, saw my face, and changed his mind, moving away so he could remove the mechanical casket lowering device from the graves.

Normally, people left at this point.

Aine stayed with me while I watched them get buried. I didn't bother tossing dirt into the grave, like many did, like was customary. Instead, I just watched the dirt be piled onto them, patted down, and then the carefully cut turf placed over the graves.

When they were done, it looked like they had been buried there for years.

I turned around, making an about face, and walked away, reaching out and holding Aine's hand.

"I hope this lets you put the darkness behind you, my beautiful Paul," Hannah said softly.

I just squeezed her hand.

Our shoes whispered on the wet grass as we walked toward the parking lot, holding each other's hands. Lightning flashed in the distance, the thunder soft and muted as it rolled over us. It was getting closer, slowly moving toward us. Out at Atlas I'd gotten used to counting how close a storm got since the site had exploded. Any lightning closer than ten seconds resulted in the bunker doors being closed and everyone moving uprange.

Nobody wanted another detonation before the lightning protections were put in.

sky ground sky ground PAIN sky ground

She squeezed my hand to pull me back from the memories and I squeezed in return.

When we got to the car she stopped me, reaching up to cup her hand at the back of my neck, and drew me down for a long lingering kiss. When we broke the kiss she smiled softly at me, her hand still on the back of my neck.

"Let us go home, I quiver for your embrace," She said softly. "Let us remind each other we are still with the living."

"I'd like that," I told her. She moved away, her hand sliding off my neck, smiling at me. I got into the driver's seat, slamming the door. When she got in, buckled in, and demurely crossed her legs, putting her laced fingers over her knee, I fired the little car up.

We sat in silence, the wipers struggling to push back the rain, the road hissing under the tires. It felt comfortable to me as we drove the two miles to my parent's old house, no, my house. It was my house now. We'd stopped by the lawyer when he opened so I could sign all the paperwork. It didn't come as a surprise to find out my parents were four years behind in the property taxes, but Aine had surprised me by pulling her checkbook out of her purse and just writing a check for the entire thing. She'd smiled back when I had seen the kittens on her check and smiled. I'd just signed my father's wrecked car over to the wrecking yard, who could part it out.

Now it was finished. The funeral was paid for, the caskets, the mortician's fees, everything. I'd even paid the utility company for the cost of the pole my father had hit.