Free Buried Slaughter by Ryan Casey

swear.”
    Hannah looked Brian in the eyes. “And no more of this fake detective crap?”
    Brian smiled. “No. No more. Sick of all that nonsense, anyway. I’ll leave it to the other miserable gits to get to the bottom of.”
    Hannah smiled back at Brian. She leaned in to kiss him, then pulled away and turned onto her side. “Good.”
    She reached for the lamp and flicked it off. The room descended into darkness.
    “I love you, Bri.”
    Brian closed his eyes. The weight of the case‌—‌the case that wasn’t even his in the bloody first place‌—‌lifted from his body and drifted up through the ceiling. “I love you too. I love you too.”
    No more detective bullshit.
    Just a nice two-week holiday.
    John Brabiner never enjoyed working late, but it was just a necessary part of his job since he’d set up the archeology company.
    He checked his watch as he approached the dig site at Longridge Fell. The rain poured down on the grassy area. In the distance, tall trees loomed over them.
    “Okay, boys. Got to think about wrapping up for the day soon.”
    “Amen to that,” Harry Wilson said. His orange raincoat hood was tightened right around his head. Looked like bloody Kenny off “South Park”. “Don’t see why we have to work so late anyway. It’s slave labour, this.”
    John smacked Harry on his back. “Nonsense. We work late because we promised we’d dig up whatever-the-hell this client wanted us to dig up. If we failed, no doubt they’d be on the phone to Davidson tomorrow to get his team to finish the job. What’s left of ‘em, anyway.”
    “Think Mr. Davidson might have a couple of other things on his mind right now, boss,” Bob said. Bob wasn’t wearing a raincoat. The water from the torrential rain waterfalled through his black hair, soaking his clothes.
    Bob was right. John had heard about the events at the Pendle Hill dig site. Poor bastards, out there doing their jobs and next thing they know, find themselves beheaded at the bottom of the ditch. The only thing that gave John comfort was the fact that his company hadn’t been approached to take that job. It’d make him seriously consider jobs before he took them. And sure‌—‌the job they were doing right now was a last-minute one, but the sum of money was ridiculously large. Too large to refuse.
    Thunder sounded overhead as the rain seemed to get heavier and heavier. “Okay, let’s get this place covered up before all our hard work goes to waste. Bob, Harry‌—‌you two put that blue mat over the trench. I’ll handle the light.”
    “Yes, boss,” Harry said. He lowered himself to the ground and started to unroll a large blue mat out in front of him.
    John switched off the spotlight and dragged it towards the white van.
    “Coulda given us a light warning!” Harry shouted.
    John laughed. “Your eyes will adjust. Now hurry the fuck up back there.”
    He grinned as he walked in the complete darkness towards the van. The moonlight wasn’t even so bright tonight, but there was something remarkable about being out in the dark in the middle of the countryside. His eyes were adjusting. All that light pollution of the city was nowhere in sight. Was beautiful, really. It really was something.
    He opened the door of the van and the light came on, ruining the serenity of the scene. “There you go, boys. Bit of light for you.” He placed the spotlight on the back of the van and strapped it in. “Jesus, boys‌—‌what’s taking you so long? Don’t you fancy a McDonald’s?”
    John squinted in the direction of the trench. He couldn’t really see it. But the guys were always fucking about with him; trying to scare him. He shook his head and sloshed through the grass in the direction of the trench. He’d have the last laugh here. He really would.
    A bolt of lightning flashed in the distance. The thunder was deafening. Shit. He hadn’t heard thunder make such a sound before. The lightning must’ve made contact nearby.
    “Come on,