11th Hour

We worked hard, but the ground was harder. Spades clanked against cold frozen surface squeezing last drops of energy out of our bodies. Hank looked at me ambivalently, threw the spade on the ground and lighten up Craven A cigarette. Seemingly enjoying the smoke he took box out of his pocket and extended to me. I waved the hand in grateful gesture politely refusing the offer. It's too cold even to smoke, and God knows I love taste of good cigarette. Hank smoked without a peep. He was old, grumpy, but kind. Looking at me in the dark he shook the head and said,
- Boy is this ground tough, boy? Let's just give up. I don't care what David says, he can go please himself this very minute for what I care.
He turned the head to the pick up truck parked nearby providing light with the headlights.
- You hear me Dave? You can go make yourself whatever your wife does to her lovers. I ain't digging this grave anymore. It's freezing and its a Christmas Night for Christ sake. Don't you have any better plans?
The sound of slamming door gave me an indication Dave was listening to the rant.
- Hank, please, I'll pay double. Don't be so tough, man, you need money, you old dirty junkie. And stop mentioning my wife. Don't insult me in front of other people, - Dave looked at me, - especially your mute helper.
- You know how to hurt me, you bastard, - Hank bended to pick up the spade. - Let me tell you something, Dave. I am an old man, much older than you. But I'm still strong. I'm strong enough to slash your head in halves, dismember your rotten body and dump it in the lake. If I said I ain't digging this grave, I ain't digging this grave. And if you don't want any problems man, get in the car and drive us home. I don't give a damn who did you kill this time. The corpse may remain in your truck as in morgue, it's so freezing.
- Hank, please do as I told, don't try to be smart, - Dave was nervous, he didn't want Hank to become angry, as everybody knew when Hank becomes angry it's no fun, - carry on with digging, please. You want me to beg? Fine, I'm begging you Hank, happy now?!
- Fine, - Hank snarled, - double pay will do. But don't bother me for the next three months.
- Deal.
Dave went back to the truck, cranked up the volume on his radio interrupting tense quiescence of the Christmas night. Probably realizing it was a stupid idea he lowered the volume almost immediately. Hank began to dig again. I did too. Little by little we managed to dig a decent grave. Big enough to put Dave's sack in. I looked at my watch and elbowed Hank gently. It was 10 o'clock.
- Hey Dave, bring it here, man. I want to go home, it's only two hours before Christmas - shouted Hank, - are you asleep there? What's the deal?
Dave didn't respond. We looked through the closed doors of the truck, but it was too dark to see anything in there. Hank pulled the handle - it was stuck.
- Open the door Dave, are you asleep? We want to go home you sick bastard. Drive us home, do you hear me? - he turned to me knitting the brow and said - See boy, that's why I never trust junkies. Bring me them spades, we are going to unlock the door ourselves.
I picked up the spades as Hank told me and he broke into the truck. I turned on the flash light and saw Dave sitting behind the wheel in complete stupor. Hank pinched his shoulder with spade, but Dave was not responding. Hank shook Dave's shoulder trying to wake him up, Dave's head slid off the neck onto passenger seat and the blood poured out. The cut was perfect, it looked like the sharpest slicer blade slashed it in a matter of microseconds. I thought if Hank never shook Dave, the head would have remained there, probably even glue back to the neck.

Hank asked me to watch his back while he's fetching the corpse from the trunk. I thought he was right, we still had a job to finish, with Dave dead or alive it didn't matter. Professional pride took over. Finally Hank found the sack.
- Lets have a look at it? - asked Hank, - you should get used to seeing dead, my boy. In our business we cannot faint in sight of blood and flesh.
He opened the sack. There was a woman's body in it. I recognized Dave's wife. I was looking at her calm peaceful face. Why would Dave do such a thing, I thought, she looked innocent to me.
- Because I was a dirty whore! - whispered the corpse with diabolic chuckle. - I'm having time of my life, boy. You may want to join me, my mute friend, if you are not afraid. You still have a chance, you are not junkie. You will be soon enough if you befriend with that old creep. - "old creep" she said in full voice, so Hank could hear her.
Hank jumped from behind and smashed her head with the spade. The blood covered the snow. I swear it didn't smell like blood, but couldn't tell what it was. Hank stood in front of dead body prepared to thrust the spade right into her chest when parts of his body began to fall apart and the pieces covered ground while his legs up to the knees mysteriously stood still. He was cut into pieces like the ham at deli shop. I was not sure if it looked more like salami or ham. Probably I was right from the beginning - ham... Here I was left with three dead bodies. Alone at the old cemetery, at Christmas night. Not knowing what to expect next. Two of the three bodies were surely dead, and the other body was most likely dead, as I wasn't sure if it really talked, or me and Hank had hallucinations.
- All we have to manage is another ten, another ten boy... - I've heard the corpse grasping the air with her mutilated mouth full of blood and dirt, - otherwise he won't come. We have to feed the spirit.
Her voice chilled me through the bones, than I've heard someones else voice, slowly reckoning it was mine.
- Who won't come? - I heard myself saying, enjoying rich sound of my voice.
- Santa, Santa Clause. He'll only come if we kill another ten. 

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