text: It was a cold November morning and the birds had already begun their morning song. The sun slowly pierced through the clouds and frost glistened across the fields. The sky was a mixture of deep, dark red and blue with only a few wisps of cloud, two men were standing at the rear of a black car, one was smoking a cigarette and the other had his arms folded and looked up at the sky, “Looks like it’s gonna be a nice day,” he declared. His accomplice flicked his cigarette onto the ground, exhaled and looked up, “Yeah.” He turned around, putting his lighter back into his coat pocket, “The farmers’ll be happy anyway.” “What?” “What do they say? Something about red sky?” “Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight?” “Yeah that’s the one.” “But it’s morning.” “What?” “It’s morning.” “So?” “The saying is ‘Red sky at night, shepherds delight. Red sky in the morning, shepherds warning’.” “So?” “So, you just implied that the farmers will be happy with the red sky this morning, but the saying states that if there’s a red sky in the morning then the shepherds should take it as a warning. So, they won’t be ‘happy’ will they?” “Who?” “The fuckin farmers!!!” “Oh. Well, they’d still be happy to see a red sky, wouldn’t they? Who doesn’t like seeing a red sky? Looks nice.” The younger man of the two looked on into the distance and the older looked at him perplexed. He’d been doing this for over twenty years now and had the look of a man who had been doing his job for too long, he looked back at the boot of the car and placed his hand on the button to open it. “First time?” “What?” The older man sighed, “Is this your first time?” The younger man turned to face him, looking genuinely unaware of what he was being asked. He looked at the boot, “Oh! Er... yeah, yeah it is.” He looked down at the floor, embarrassed. The older man chuckled, “Don’t worry about it, I lost count in the nineties. It’s really not as bad as you think.” “I’m not fuckin’ worried!” The young man snapped as his face quickly turned red, “I’ve done plenty and I’ve paid my fuckin’ dues! Let’s just get it fuckin’ over with fucks sake!” The older man averted his eyes and understood instantly, “OK fair enough.” He opened the boot and inside was a man wrapped in duct tape from his ankles to his shoulders, in his mouth was a red ball gag that was covered in vomit and blood. As soon as the boot opened, he started thrashing, he’d clearly soiled himself and the smell that hit them as they opened the boot forced them back a few steps. The younger man was bent over and retching, the older man, being used to the particular stenches that people such as the current occupant of the boot produced, recovered quickly and burst out into a deep wheezy laugh, “Never eat before these kinds of things kid, at least at the beginning.” He carried on laughing as the young man vomited what looked like the remnants of a large breakfast. The young man spat and coughed, he looked up through a stream of tears, “Fuck off! Could’ve fuckin warned me!” The old man’s laugh had eased into a chuckle, “Same thing happened to me, l’d eaten porridge though so I wasn’t as bad. Fuck me! You can chew your food you know! Jesus.” The man in the boot was still thrashing, trying to scream. Due to the ball gag some vomit was still in his mouth and as he tried to scream it was spraying out of the sides of the gag, “You’re almost as bad as him!” The older man started laughing hard again with his hands on his knees. “Fuck off!” The young man had recovered and spat one last time before inhaling deeply. He looked at the man in the boot, “Look at the fuckin state of him, who is he?” “Dunno, don’t care.” The old man studied him, although he was practically mummified with duct tape, it was apparent that he was wearing what was once a very nice grey suit, he was probably in his early fifties with a head full of thick silver hair, it was matted with blood and vomit now but on the left hand side it was still combed neatly. His eyes were wild as he continued to thrash and scream, “Shut the fuck up!” The old man punched him so hard he broke his nose and rocked his head back with such force that he immediately went limp, “Cunt.” The young man watched as the old man wiped his hand on the unconscious body, the old man sat on the edge of the boot and glared at the young man, “Mastication.” The young man almost flinched, he looked confused, “What?” “Mastication, essential for healthy digestion during a meal.” “I thought it was supposed to be after a meal and usually with someone.” “What?” “I’ve always heard it’s best after a good meal and ideally with someone, but you haven’t got a missus have you? So yeah that makes sense I suppose.” The old man looked at him dumbfoundedly. He almost started to correct him but instantly realised the futility. He sighed, “How’d you wanna do it?” “I dunno, how’d you usually do it?” “Depends.” “On what?” “A myriad of a factors.” “A what?” “Usually I do them in the boot and take them to wherever, but it’s your car and I didn’t know if you were concerned about the mess.” “Don’t care, whatever’s easier.” “Ok, well?” “Well what?” “Well I’ve got plans later so you wanna?” He gestured towards the unconscious man in the boot, “He’s out cold now so it’s ideal, no thrashing, no screaming.” The young man cleared his throat and started reaching into his pocket, “Why’s it gotta be a fuckin knife?” He pulled out a smooth, black handle from his right inside pocket, he pushed a button and a long, thin blade flicked out, the steel reflected the morning sunlight on to the old man’s face briefly. The old man smiled, “Cost efficiency, you know how expensive clean guns are? Not to mention bullets! Fuck me, before you’ve even got to the job you’ve spent the best part of a grand. You could buy cheaper obviously but then you might not be getting what you pay for, shitty refurb jobs or ones that have been passed around thousands of times. Fuck that.” The young man stood over the unconscious man in the boot, his breathing was labored, his chest slowly going up and down, “How should I do it?” “Up to you, if you’re a sick little cunt you might wanna slit his throat, if it were me I’d just go once in the heart, nice and quick.” The young man breathed in and exhaled sharply, “Ok... fuck it.” He plunged the knife hard and deep into the man’s chest, the man jerked instantly and started thrashing again. His screams turned into a sickening gargling sound, “THE FUCK YOU DOIN’?!” Screamed the old man instantly, “WHAT?” The young man pulled the blade out of the man’s chest, the man in the boot thrashing more violently than before and gargling blood, “I SAID THE FUCKIN HEART! THE FUCKIN HEART! YOU DAFT TWAT!” “THAT IS THE HEART!” The young man screamed back, “NO! IT’S NOT! THAT’S HIS FUCKIN LUNG!! THE HEART’S ON THE LEFT SIDE YOU FUCKIN’ MORON!” “THAT IS THE LEFT SIDE!” “HIS FUCKIN LEFT!!” The old man’s face was dark red, he put his hands on the back of his head, unable to comprehend what he just witnessed, he tried to compose himself, “HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW? I AINT A FUCKIN DOCTOR!” The young man’s hand started shaking and his face was bright red again. “Did you ever go to fuckin school? How’d you not know where the fuckin heart is?” “I left school at fourteen!” The young man stated almost proudly, the old man slapped his hands to his sides, “While that explains a lot, it doesn’t explain why the fuck a grown man doesn’t know where the fuckin heart is! Did you eat too much fuckin glue as a kid or something?” The young man searched for an answer, but nothing came. He looked down at the floor, “Sorry.” “Fuck that just finish it.” The young man looked up, the man in the boot had stopped thrashing and was lying there, moaning. He placed the tip of the blade on the unconscious man’s left-hand side of the suit jacket, he looked up, “Here?” The old man sighed and nodded. The young man pushed the blade down hard, the body jerked, a small whimper creeping out of his throat. And silence. The young man slowly pulled the knife out and the blade was a dark crimson, he wiped it on an exposed part of the jacket and threw it in the boot. The old man slowly closed the car boot and studied the young man. He looked even younger now for some reason, late teens maybe early twenties, “How old are you?” “Twenty four.” “Christ.” He walked around the side of the car and sat in the passenger seat, he adjusted the rear-view mirror so he could catch a glimpse of the young man. He was breathing slow and deep and looking into the sky. The old man knew exactly how he was feeling and decided not to say anything else unless he was spoken to. The young man took one more deep breath and turned towards the car, after he climbed in and fastened his seat belt, he put his keys in and started the ignition, “Sorry... I...” “Don’t worry about it, you did good.” The old man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. As he lit one, he felt the car jerk forward gently as they pulled off, he blew a plume of smoke out of the window and looked out into the distance, “Nice day,” he looked over at the young man’s face, his were eyes fixed on the road. After a few moments he sighed, “Yeah.