Laura James Week 166: Parasites of the Death Industry

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Laura James’s Picture Choice: 2

Title: Parasites of the Death Industry

Before you read my wee tale, I have to say a word of thanks to Ruth Long as it was a conversation with her that provided me with the title of my tale and gave it a purpose.

Malcolm watched, munching away on a Cheese and pickle sandwich as the cargo was loaded in the tanker. He knew the others despised his lack of respect but then he'd been doing this job for several months and no longer cared.

Malcolm signed a receipt for the load and jumped into the cab. "See you guys for the next run." Putting the truck into gear he sped off, a long day journey ahead of him. Tuning the radio to an oldies station he was soon in a world of his own singing along to old songs his mother had played when he was young.

His mind drifted back to the previous year when his life changed. The world was running out of oil and coal, renewable energy didn't produce enough power. A new source of energy had to be found whilst the world waited for nuclear power stations to be built. It was amazingly simple and Malcolm had always wondered why no one had thought of it before.

They started to burn the dead en masse. Factories were built, the dead were delivered around the clock and the lights stayed on.

The days travel passed in a blur of roads and protests. Not everyone was happy about this new process of producing power but no one had dared attack the haulage vehicles out of respect for the dead. Malcolm was the last haulier, the rest had either caved under religious pressure or had been unable to travel the country knowing what they carried behind them. Malcolm didn't care and planned to milk this opportunity for as long as he could. He was becoming a very rich man.

Driving through the gates of the factory Malcolm made his way to the unloading bay and reversed. It was a simple process to unload the bodies and within minutes he heard the thuds of the dead as they fell towards their fiery end. Soon billowing smoke from the chimneys let him know that his delivery had been accepted.

Malcolm checked his phone and found that the processing centre in Aberdeen had a collection for him. Whistling he set off.

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Based in Dunfermline, Scotland, Laura is obsessed with all things horror and spends her time writing flash fiction which she hopes, on occasion, really scares her readers. Feel free to stalk her on twitter, @lejamez

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