Blog Post

5-27-2020

After Pigeon Wing has been shot and taken away by the Corporal Unity Police Department, or COPD, Amata Gemoule leads the plan to take his body back. The gang’s base of operations is now compromised with their leader, Molly Mandrake, and resident doctor, Burdock Hoenn, under arrest. (There are quite a lot of things in this piece of writing that are outdated. Most notable changes are that Hansa no longer is an undercover cop and that they use Amata’s truck instead of Moody Bloom’s. A revised version of this writing is planned for the future)

Amata huffed out loud and braced themself. Their idea was so outlandish, they knew that they could either recruit help, or let the idea die alone in their own head.

“I have an idea,” they blurted. “It’s a hell of an idea, but please just hear me out. Pigeon’s body is going to be cut up and examined like he’s some sort of alien experiment. Maybe you guys can sit still and let that happen, but I remember him telling me about how his father, a funeral director, would pump all sorts of nasty chemicals into the bodies of dead people just to make them look nice. He told me he’d never want that to happen to him. I can’t sit here, man. I can’t sit and hide knowing he’s there on one of those… Those awful slabs just waiting for them to stick his body and make him some sort of toxic corpse. Maybe you guys can do that, but I cannot let Pigeon’s body go through that. He died, and it was too soon. The least we can do is give him a real proper burial.”

“Are you insane? There’s no fucking way we’re doing that. We are NOT doing that,” Narciss hissed.

“It’s crazy, I know. The whole point of it is that it’s crazy, but we HAVE to. They’re going to do all sorts of shit to his body he would have NEVER wanted. I don’t want any of my friends to end up like that. It’s just not unane. Not in this world, not in any world.”

Poppy, Oleander, Moody, and Alli all listened closely, but not one of them said a word. Not a peep as Amata and Narciss argued.

“Okay, do what you want. You could put his body on display like it’s a party piñata for all I care. Just don’t involve me. And all you other suckers? Hey! I’m talking to you guys,” Narciss barked as he turned to the quiet four. “This shit is crazy. He’s already dead. It DOESN’T MATTER what they do to him now, he’s already dead as dust! Whatever you do now doesn’t EVER MATTER. It’s sad as fuck, I know. But he’s gone, man. Why would you want to waste your time and risk going to the slammer forever? I used to do graveyard shifts, you know. They’ll probably keep their eyes on you. They’ve got cameras. They’ve got eyes. Do this and you’ll get caught for sure.”

Narciss huffed and heaved his chest in his passion, taking a deep breath inward. “What else do I have to say? I'm going home and if you see me again, that’ll be a miracle. I still need these stupid fucking pills, so say hi and bye if you want. But I’m not digging up packed graves for you guys.”

Amata narrowed their eyes as Narciss turned his back and strolled to his ruby red car. Named Ruby, as a matter of fact. It seemed like he didn’t have a care in the world for anyone besides his car. This was a true testament to that fact. It was a common sight to see Narciss heading back to it once the work was too difficult for one person alone.

The other four looked to Amata.

“... So…” Alli peeped.

“Are… We gonna do it or what?” Moody answered

Poppy didn’t say anything. He followed Narciss back to his car.

“Let’s do this if you’re game, guys. Moody? Start your car.”

In the truck, Moody sat at the wheel with Alli in the passenger seat and Oleander with Amata sitting in the back seats.The road to the morgue was a silent trip at first, but as they neared the landmarks that directed Moody along, Alli piped up.

“So, how are we actually getting in?”

Amata replied, “Wing told me that they don’t really lock their doors. Nobody wants to meddle in the business of dead bodies. They take away anything valuable like jewelry first and give it to the families.”

Moody butted in, “IF they give it back to the families. If they don’t, then they ‘lost’ their valuable family heirlooms like they did with my grandma. They’ve been locking their doors now, there’s too many people looking for some easy organs.”

“Are you serious? I thought the guts would be like… Not fresh enough to use.” Amata shuddered at the idea of decayed corpse’s organs being used in the black market.

“Hey, they don’t really care. A gut’s a gut. They’ll use whatever they have to to make it work.”

“Well, when we get there, if the door isn’t locked, we can ding dong ditch ‘em and then block the door from closing as they leave,” Alli added.

The four of them pulled up to the parking lot of the morgue. This was it. They arrived at their destination. Amata looked up to the building. It was a lot bigger in person than it was from the view they usually got from across the road. It towered over them, looming and dreadful. There were no smells of decaying bodies. After all, they hadn’t opened the door of the truck yet to know.

“Okay guys. Here’s the plan...”

Unlocked. The door wasn’t even guarded. The hallways of the building were vacant, and eerily peaceful. Even still, the air was buzzing with nervous energy. The air of the morgue carried an astringent chemical tinge that coated the four’s airways in an unpleasant way. This wasn’t an easy thing to do. Merely breathing in the building alone was nerve wracking. The four of them snuck around, opening doors and checking for paperwork and for bodies. Oleander found a binder full of paperwork and handed it to Amata.

“This is it, they’re holding Pigeon’s body in room 4B. Keep on the lookout for it, guys. I think that’s still on the second floor. Floor A must be the underground parking garage. We’ve got our walkies, and I don’t see any cameras here. Judging by the phones and shit they’re using, I think this place is too cheap to update their security. Split up and search for 4B.”

Moody and Alli nodded in agreement. Oleander gave a single nod of acknowledgement and stuck with Amata. He knew he had to stick with them to keep an eye out for them. If there were any suspicious characters, Oleander could draw out his gun and fire a shot quicker than they could.

Alli went off on their own, eyes wide open and sneaking through the halls. They laid their steps down softly, a contrast from their usual skipping and jumping around. They knew how to be quiet when it was necessary.

Treat it like it’s a game, Alli. It’s like hide and seek.

Except they were seeking a dead body.

Alli couldn’t explain why this made them nervous. They weren’t ready to see the afterimage of their friend. Not when they were there to witness his death. It was brutal, tragic, all too quick, all too fast. The bullet fired at an instant. There was no time to think before they all had to flee and scatter. There were too many of them for the two officers to pursue at once, but Molly and Burdock were detained.

Dear Molly. She took full blame for the operation; She even used her right to remain silent to protect the identities of the members who were there at the scene, save for Hansa, of course. He was working with the police after all. If it were anybody else, even Heliotrope, Alli wouldn’t be sure that they’d be able to stay hidden the way they are now.

4B.

Alli found it.

Creak.

Creeeaaaak.

The door opened. And there he was.

Step

Pause.

Step

Pause.

Moody couldn’t breathe. Not with the scuffed up black leather shoes right at his knees. He couldn’t afford a single breath, lest he be found. The sound of paperwork shuffling and ink scribbling above him kept him distracted from the fact he was turning blue in the face from holding in his silence.

Oh shit. My walkie.

He was expecting Amata and Oleander to call over the radio once they found the room Pigeon Wing’s body was being held in.

I’m good as dead if they call me right now. Fuck.

Moody Bloom carefully unclipped his walkie talkie from his belt, being extra careful not to let the clip make a single click, and began painstakingly thumbing the battery cover. Just as he began to pry the plastic tab away, the mortician standing at the desk above him dropped his pen on the floor. Right. In front. Of him.

Are you kidding me. Not this.

He had to think fast. Moody kicked the pen further to his left away from the desk the moment he saw it, making it seem as though it rolled a ways away from its impact point. The mortician swore and pursued his tool of choice, bending down so Moody could see that he was a bacterial.

Please don’t look this way, please don’t look this way, dear gods above, don’t look this way.

He didn’t. He stood up right at the retrieval of the pen, making his way back to the desk, picking up and sorting some papers, then exiting the door once he had all his files in place and order. Moody almost let out a sigh of relief. And then the walkie went off as Amata gave him the go ahead.

“Amata, listen, we’re not alone here. There’s still staff in this building and I almost ran into one of them, he’s a bacterial. Looks like he’s alone here, but we don’t know that. Over.”

“Copy that, we almost ran into two other security officers here too. I was just about to say the same thing. Looks like we have to save the radios for when we really need it. Over.”

There he was. Lifeless and a bit too tall for the table he was laid across. How undignified it was to see their friend formless on the metal table with his legs hanging off the end. It didn’t look comfortable, even in repose. Oleander had nothing to say. Amata couldn’t find words. Moody was silent as well.

“Well… Let’s do this then. Before we get caught.” Amata broke the silence.

“Agreed.” Moody replied and Oleander nodded.

All four of them helped to lift the body off the table. Moody held Wing’s stiff arm over his shoulder, shuddering at the coolness of the dead hand on his neck and shoulder. Oleander supported the midsection and legs. Amata went to check the exit path before they left the room. Coast was clear. Slowly, but surely, the three of them guided Pigeon’s body out of the doorway and into the freezing hallway down the stairs.

Step.

They couldn’t make it without making noise. That was a given.

Step. Step. Step.

That wasn’t them. It was coming from the door beside them. Amata knew they had to do something. Fast. Faster than the three had hoped. They guided Oleander’s hands to support Wing’s body with Moody as though they were holding a wooden plank and went to the window on the opposite side of the hallway, popping it open and gesturing to come through.

The two of them quickly, yet nimbly coordinated their footsteps closer to the window, guiding Wing’s body through. Amata already snuck out first, easing wing’s legs into the unruly bushes outside. Once his whole body was laid out onto the dirt, grass, and brush, the other two squeezed through the opening. Oleander used his gentle touch to shut the window without a sound, and the other two checked the condition of Wing’s body. Dark greenish brown blood stained his white and blue baseball tee. The bullet wound was still visible through the shirt he was wearing, the mortuary hadn’t even stripped him of his last chosen outfit. They clearly put off the work until late night.

Thank goodness. His body was still free of preservatives and chemicals they would have pumped through to keep it viable for poking and prodding.

Wing’s family wouldn’t have cared either way, they may have been grateful, even, to have the state preserve his body to be funeral ready without a charge for being responsible for his death. If only they knew. If only they were told. The truth, anyways.

His family was notified and told that the state had his body after he was captive to the workings of the gang he was involved with. They promised a funeral they couldn’t hold.

Now, Pigeon’s body will be honored the way his friends knew he’d like it to be. The three of them eased him into the back of the truck, Moody at the wheel.

“I don’t think I can drive. That was. It was.”

Amata understood.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this, alright? I think I can do it. Just give me a minute.”

The four of them drove off into the night, heading back to the rest of the gang waiting for them back at their new home.

Molly sniffed at the dust in her unkempt cell across from Burdock. They both had a lot to talk about, but the security guard between the two was privy to their every word. He was a floro like them. He looked like he was some sort of yellow tulip hybrid. He sat bored, jangling his keys to the tune he was whistling. He bounced his leg to the beat, providing a sort of elevator music to purgatory and detention. At least the two founders had this going for them. Entertainment in detainment.

Molly looked to the floor and dragged the tip of her shoe across in swinging motions. It felt like the concrete hadn’t been swept in ages, stains littering its grooves and cracks, dirt filling in between. The dust bunnies seemed content to settle in the furthest reaches of each corner of the room. Molly stood up, kicking them out of the corners and out through the bars.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” The officer barked.

“Spring cleaning!” Molly replied. “I’m allergic to this dust. I thought I’d save you a trip to The Pharma and do the hard work myself.”

“Yeah? Well now I have to clean THIS up, you know that?”

Molly shuffled her feet to the beat of the keys the officer stopped toying with. His attention was now fixed on his current problem.

“The free concert was wonderful, darling. But I’d really like this spot cleaned up. I’m sure you could get around to it after you take me out of this cell. I imagine it won’t happen soon. Don’t you have some paperwork to be attending to, Mr. Jailer?”

Burdock flashed her a look of “Shut up right now” with his single eye, hoping she could somehow sense his urgency. After all, she couldn’t see. Molly simply smiled sweetly back at the officer.

She could feel the hot breath of the officer raining down at her face.

“Listen here, girlie. That’s not my job, it’s someone else’s. And yeah, I do have some paperwork to be doing, but right now? I’m dealing with your pretty little ass. Right now, you’re being enough of a handful as is. So sit still for me and make this night easier on the both of us.”

Instead of sitting back down on the worn out creaky bench, Molly was content to pace in circles around the cell, the wind at her feet drawing the dust bunnies closer and closer to her heels.

Moody and Alli both slumped in the backseat of the truck while Oleander and Amata perched themselves in the front. Oleander couldn’t see the road ahead, but he could see the neon lights of the traffic signs. Moody was too shaken by their theft to drive his own vehicle. Amata was still learning how to drive, but understood the mechanics.

The road ahead was a bumpy one after they’d fled the mortuary, former friend in tow. The gravel paths here and there guided them back into the city. Amata glanced at the fuel meter.

Gas tank is nearly out

“Hey, we’re going to need to fuel this truck up, guys. We need to stop at a gas station.”

Silence.

“Anyone need a break?”

“Yeah, I need to take a leak anyways,” Alli replied.

The four of them pulled up into the nearest gas station to the right. It seemed that the cost of gas was higher than the station across the street, but the convenience overruled the necessity. As Amata parked the truck, Alli and Moody immediately exited, stretching their arms and legs out. Alli was tired from sitting still, but Moody was still sore from carrying the weight of Pigeon’s body out of the morgue and into the cargo. Oleander strolled out of the vehicle and into the station’s convenience store, Alli Oops following suit. Amata and Moody leaned against their vehicle at the pump, watching the numbers fly up and away with their own thoughts.

The entire time, Pigeon’s body rested in the cargo, covered by plastic tarps that hid his form and appearance from the station.

Another car pulled up to the pump next to theirs.

Amata and Moody flashed each other a worried look, but ultimately remained quiet.

Hush hush. Not a word.

“So. Who's paying for gas?” Amata broke the silence.

“I guess I will. It’s my truck after all.”

“True, but this was my idea.”

“Well, we needed to refuel anyways, I might as well pay for it. It was gonna happen one way or another.”

“I guess you’re right, but still.” Amata shuffled their feet, tracing the dust and dirt at the ground.

Kerchunk. The gas filled all the way and left Moody with the staggering total. Maybe he regretted taking responsibility for the bill now, but it’s too late to go back on his word now. The total was nearly 50 dollars a tank. Talk about overblown.

Back inside the convenience store, Oleander carried his treasures to the front. Two energy drinks. He requested a few packs of cigarettes as well. He briefly contemplated the electronic vaporizer, but didn’t care for the taste. It was easier, but not quite the same as smoking the real deal.

Alli creaked the door of the unisex bathroom open, met by the all too familiar smell of a gas station bathroom. Well, it was something. Better than nothing.

Click tap.

“Would you stop that tapping? It’s driving me up the wall,” the security officer snapped.

Burdock long since went to sleep in his own cell. The jeans he wore made it uncomfortable for him to lay down, but he made it work. Molly was restless, still pacing around with dust bunnies nipping at her heels as she click clacked and click tapped in her cell.

“Would it make your job easier if I stopped? Am I doing something wrong?” Molly cooed to the officer without a hint of mockery. Still, he found her concern offensive.

“Yeah, it makes my job a lot easier when brats like you just do what they’re told. Sit down.”

Molly click clacked her heels closer to the bars and sat down on the dirty floor, holding a bar in each hand as she leaned her head to the cool iron. There, she rested. She did not sleep, but she rested as close as she could to the security guard. He sneered at this and stood up to pace around the hall.