All Silent on the Flint

"Cold enough for you?" Jones said.

"Man, you just don't know! Don’t feel like nothin’s below my waist."

Bobby reached his hand out and grabbed several flowing strands of the corpse’s auburn hair. He yanked.

The head, with its mane of wild red hair, shot out of the water and there was a gasp, a release of air buildup. The bloated, rotting body stood and violently slapped the water with its flailing arms.

Bobby screamed and jumped back.

Jones could tell she’d been ripped open from her chest to her lower abdomen and gutted like a hog. He stared in silence as the two flaps of her skin, like an opening to a tent, struggled to hide what was inside her. She was also missing her nose.





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