Butchered Meat

She started. “What?”

“There’s been an . . . an accident.”

She glanced at the street behind him. There was a parked car. Police were swarming over it. Paramedics had draped it with a white tarpaulin as if they were trying to shield the street from whatever was inside it.

For a moment she bristled. How dare they try to prevent her from …

There was a gust of wind from behind her. It was hot, and odd, and unexpected. The tarp on the car fluttered, then fell.

And she saw.

The rear passenger’s side was open. On the seat inside was . . . blood, and a body. A body so mutilated that at first she thought it was butchered meat. Then, she realized that that was a leg, that was a torso, that was a human head, skinned like an animal brought to slaughter.

“Oh, Christ!” the cop said, and hurried away to help wrestle the tarp back into place.

For a moment, she stood where she was. Then she turned and walked away . . . hurriedly . . .unthinkingly. She had no idea where she was going.