Corrupt

A cool breeze blows through his long messy black hair sending a chill down his neck, his hands are covered in a web of dark green tattoos that are now almost undefinable. His fingers are decorated with various chrome rings of skulls that are dressed with fake gems. Just like a territorial animal the scars that are scattered across his forearms and face are testament to his lifestyle. His diet of beer and all things deep fried have somehow preserved his body giving him a somewhat immortal quality. At the very least he is an example of how the human body can adapt and overcome adversity. His mouth twitches as his unkempt facial hair tickles the edge of his lips. Dressed in black he looks a little out of place in this neighbourhood, but these days people are too caught up in their own world to worry about others.

  He’s been walking around this neighbourhood for a good hour knocking on people’s doors, going through his routine telling the occupants that he is an arborist looking for work.

  Unknowingly to the occupants he has something more sinister in mind.

  He walks up a drive way rehearsing his speech ensuring he is ready with an explanation for when he is confronted by someone. This particular property is surrounded by a six foot high fence and is well hidden from the street. Making it an attractive target.

  He walks up to the front door and with his large heavy fist he knocks. Even though this isn’t the first time he’s put on this charade he can feel his adrenaline levels rise. He peers through the window into the front room which appears to be empty.

  He scans the room and spots his opportunity to get inside, a half open window at the rear of the house has been unwittingly left open there for him.

  While walking around the back of the house he slips a dark glove onto each hand, he steps up onto the deck at the rear of the house and surveys the point of entry. On further inspection he can see that the latches can be easily removed allowing the window to be opened up, enough for him to fit through.

  He silently takes hold of the latches and carefully undoes each one. With both hands he pulls the window out as far as it can go, he pauses for a moment, listening to his surroundings, and did anyone see him walk up the drive way he wonders. Sweat begins to form on his upper lip and his palms are beginning to fill his gloves with moisture. He crouches down under the window and reassures himself that no one has seen him. Carefully he places a hand on either side of the frame and lifts himself up onto the window sill.

  Perched on the window sill his heart skips a beat when the sound of running water echoes through the room. Shit someone is in the shower he mumbles to himself.

  Frozen in the window, his mind tells him he needs to make a decision. Unconsciously he leans forward slightly and gravity makes the decision for him. He manages to clumsily regain his balance and he lowers himself from the window sill.

  A female’s voice can be heard singing from where he assumes the shower would be, but he can’t quite make out the lyrics. He begins to wonder what she looks like standing in the shower naked, relaxing under the hot water, running over every curve of her body.

  A large metallic thud slams through the kitchen as the pipes shudder as the water is turned off. He quickly scans the room looking for the usual items of interest, cash, tablets, cell phones, handbags, and medication, anything that can be disposed of with ease. Sitting on the kitchen bench top are a set of keys along with a wallet and a cell phone. His feet move quickly and he quietly shuffles over to the bench, his hands fumble with the cell phone and wallet as he stuffs them into his pants. A door opens behind him and standing before him is a lady wrapped in a white towel and her hair dripping wet. They both stare each other in the eyes momentarily frozen in each other’s disbelief. Unexpectedly a shrill scream breaks their standoff. The wooden floor boards flex under his weight as he runs for the open window his only escape. Peculiarly she runs in the same direction, thinking she is trying to thwart his way out. He thrusts his arms out and his palms slam into her petite torso propelling her into the nearby china cabinet. The sound of the air being forced out of her body makes him cringe for a moment. The loud thump is followed by the smashing of glass. He pauses and looks at her for the shortest of moments only to see her body slump lifeless on the ground.

  He leaps out of the window and onto the deck, there’s no point trying to be cautious now, he needs to put as much distance in between himself and this house as he can. Frantically he tears at his glow vest trying to pull it off, but his fingers are fumbling with the zipper. The thick gloves coupled with the adrenaline have now swollen each one of his fingers to feel at least twice their normal size.

  His feet stumble around each other, nearly contributing to him collapsing onto the drive way from the deck. Finally his vest is off and is being violently stuffed it into one of his pockets. Now that he doesn’t have that to worry about that his feet begin to concentrate and start to follow one another. As he exits the drive way he sees a woman on her phone looking straight at him, no doubt she’s talking to the police. In the distance he can hear the unmistakeable sound of a Holden V6 hitting red line. That damn women must have seen him walk into the property because they sound close, he thinks to himself. He runs down the street and makes a sharp left cutting through a property, a patrol car flies past him and comes to a screeching halt. It looks like a station wagon, no doubt a dog handler. His legs are screaming at him for a moment of rest, but he knows he will need to keep moving. He jumps the rear fence, trying to make the track for the dog as difficult as he can. He’s not sure where he’s going but he’s not lingering around here.

  Chapter Five