The fall wind rustled the dry leaves of the trees. Moonlight flooded Lou�s bedroom. Matt stood beside his uncle�s bed. He watched him breathe, each breath more ragged than the last, until finally the breathing stopped altogether.

Uncle Lou was dead.

Matt promised Lou no machines or CPR, no last second revival of any kind. Matt�s mother would not have approved of his presence here, had she been alive. �Stay away from Lou� she told him many times during his childhood. �That man is evil.� But Matt gave every one a chance, and he had a good relationship with his uncle, much to his mother�s dismay. These last few months Matt had lived with his uncle in his three-story home in the suburbs of Pennsylvania. Matt�s mother was not around to voice her displeasure. Even on her own deathbed, she had refused to see Lou. Now she would have little choice in the matter as Lou joined her in death, though probably in separate places. Matt looked around the room. A picture of aunt Viv, still resting silently on the nightstand captured his eyes. He reached down and picked it up, cradled it close with his hands touching each opposite shoulder.

�Where are you?� he whispered.

***

No one really mourned Lou�s death, but the family showed up just in time for the reading of the will. Lou�s brother Raymond, Lou�s daughter�s Tracy and Sandy, a scattering of old acquaintances, and Lou�s lawyer, Allen Davis were there dressed in their Sunday best. Aunt Viv was no where to be found. She had left Lou months before his death without even so much as a goodbye. Who could blame her with the drinking, gambling, and extramarital affairs? It was a miracle that Aunt Viv had stayed as long as she did. That left Matt to take care of his uncle in his last days of life. The others never really called even to check on him. They had all written him off as the son of a bitch that he sometimes was and yet here they all were, hoping to lay claim to a piece of whatever was left of his estate.

Lou had been born into money. When his father was young, he started a restaurant in the city. He named it �A Taste Of Italy� and had turned it into a chain that stretched down the east coast. After his father�s death, Lou sold the chain of restaurants for a large sum of money. Lou had one brother, and one sister. The sister was of course, Matt�s mother. The siblings split the money, which was enough to last a lifetime. But each had their own bout with misfortune. Matt�s mother�s account dwindled down to nothing during her losing battle with cancer. Lou had managed to go through a great deal of his inheritance with his party lifestyle. Raymond never had a chance, as three ex-wives and six children took away any shot he had to maintain his wealth. Lou�s girls hadn�t seen a penny of his money since they left home. Because of this they waited anxiously with hopeful eyes and plastic smiles hoping their day had finally arrived.

Just before the reading of the will, Allen Davis, Lou�s lawyer, motioned Matt over to the side. �I need to see you after all this is over.�

�Why?� Matt questioned.

Mr. Davis whispered back. �Your uncle has instructed me to present you with a letter that is only to be read by you. The content of the letter is unknown, even to me.�

Matt nodded his head in agreement and went back to his seat. Raymond blasted a dirty look in his direction. Matt lowered his head as the will was read. Much to Raymond�s disappointment, the only thing left behind was Lou�s house, his car and a surprisingly small sum of cash, all of which was divided between the girls. As the final words of the will were read, Raymond stood up defiantly.

�Mr. Davis, Do you expect us to believe that a man once worth twenty-five million has let his fortune dwindle to this?� Raymond�s words filled the air with the scent of brandy, minced with desperation. Matt nearly laughed at the irony of such a question, but showed restraint.

�Well, Raymond, I don�t expect anything. I am here to read the last will and testament of Lou Satori, which I have now done.� Allen rolled his eyes, and stuffed some paper into his briefcase. He had been a friend of Lou�s, though not really a close one. They got along well enough to conduct business and the such, but never really got to know one another, at least not on a personal level.

Raymond snarled as years of pent up anger surfaced. He demanded answers. �I didn�t come five hundred miles for this shit! What about Viv? Has anyone heard from or attempted to call her? Why isn�t she in the will?�

Allen�s patience was wearing thin. He didn�t need this Neanderthal, has been millionaire thug, bullying him around. �No, Mr. Satori, we have not heard from Viv, nor do we have any information as to where we might reach her to inform her of her husband�s death.�

The frustration of being left out of the will and Allen�s sarcastic tone was wearing on Raymond. But still he lowered his voice and added some feigned compassion to his next question. �There�s no mention of anyone else in the will? For God�s sake, I was his only brother.�

The corners of Allen�s mouth contemplated a smile and then reconsidered. �Maybe you should have thought of that while your brother was living, Mr. Satori.�

That was more than Raymond could take. He sprang from his seat and lunged toward the young lawyer with hatred seething in his eyes. A tall security guard stopped him a few feet from Allen who made his escape, sliding out a side door, away from all the excitement.

After an hour or so the group finally cleared out. As Raymond exited, he hung his head in despair. When Matt was sure they were all gone, he knocked on the door of Allen�s retreat. �They�re gone. It�s safe.�

Allen slowly opened the door and closed it quickly behind Matt. �Quite a show, huh?� Matt shook his head and sat down in the leather seat. .�Well Matt, here�s your uncle�s letter.� Allen handed him an envelope with the word �Matt�written in red capital letters. He ripped the envelope, suddenly curious, as Allen stepped cautiously out of the room.


Dear Matt,

If you are reading this, then your Uncle has finally taken leave of this damn cold world. I write this letter to inform you that I have left you a small fortune in coins. I have them buried on some land I own towards the eastern part of the state. The land is yours as well. You may question this peculiar way of claiming your inheritance, but it is the way it must be. I don�t trust that damn brother of mine or either of those gold-digging daughters I supposedly fathered. I wanted to be perfectly sure you received the coins without any hassle so on the back of this letter you will find a map that will lead you to the coins. Spend it wisely and try to lighten up, son. Get them before they get you, hell forget the wisdom, have fun with it.

Uncle Lou


Matt�s eyes became watery and two tears escaped from the corners of each eye and flowed freely down his cheeks. He was rich and would never have to worry about money again, but all he could think of was his uncle and how things could have been different. A wasted life, he thought. Matt put the letter back in the envelope and headed home. He would worry about his new fortune later. For now, all the day�s events had exhausted him. He could use some rest.

That night he dreamed of fancy cars, a new home and a life of luxury. Matt was not above all the worldly pleasures that could come with the money. No one was more deserving. He had never really recovered from his mother�s death and it nearly broke his heart when his father remarried and moved away. Matt had lived a life of seclusion in his apartment, working his little job downtown delivering pizzas, surviving. No girlfriend, no friends: just him, his dog Simon, and of course, Uncle Lou.

***

The next morning Matt awoke refreshed. He was supposed to be at work at nine but decided his new found riches, or soon to be riches, would end his career as a pizza delivery boy. Man would Mister James down at Pizza Plus be surprised! He never treated Matt with any semblance of respect, so Matt didn�t even bother calling in. They�d figure it out soon enough.

He jumped out of bed and into the shower. Just as he did, the phone rang. It was two minutes after nine. He knew who that was. �Let them wonder.� He said aloud to no one. He spent the morning hours just lounging around thinking of his uncle, the new life he would start, of all the options that lay ahead in his future. He gave Simon a small can of Alpo, which he devoured, and then he decided to step out for a while.

He drove his shaky Eight-One Olds around town, just circling here and there. The city was overcast with just a hint of winter around the edges. He didn�t really know where he wanted to go. He thought of going to look at new cars. He sure could use one, maybe even a Corvette, but he figured he should actually wait until he had the money before he started spending it. Besides he was going to get the coins that night, so it wasn�t like he had long to wait.

A little bar with a flashing neon sign on the corner of Thirteenth Street caught his eye. Cold beer, the sign beamed proudly. Someone was feeling creative when they came up with that one he thought, attempting to amuse himself. He laughed out loud, something he hadn�t done in quite some time, maybe even before his mother died.

Matt parked the Olds. It sputtered and kicked when he turned off the ignition. He entered the bar with low expectations, and so the concrete walls, the dull yellow glow, musty smell and smoky air did not deter him. The jukebox rattled off some old Hank Williams tune. Senior not Junior. There were four people in the bar. Three old men sat at a corner booth arguing about the Pirates and Phillies, while a girl looking mid twenties, maybe even thirty in a khaki skirt and a white cotton top sat at a barstool nursing a beer. She flashed a half smile as Matt took a seat.

�Bud light.� He told the bartender before he could even inquire. A second later a bottle appeared. Matt turned it up, took a large drink and the icy brew wet his whistle. He stared at the bartender a second too long, and the burly man asked in a baritone voice, �Is everything all right?�

Matt couldn�t resist and he held the bottle up. �Just as promised.� He said in reference to the sign.

The barkeep rolled his eyes, more annoyed than amused. Occasionally the girl at the bar would sneak a glance at Matt, but when he tried to give her a smile, she quickly turned away. These quick ganders tickled his curiosity and so he stayed and continued to drink.

After his fourth beer the girl walked over and sat beside him.

�I know you.� She declared. Matt searched his memory and returned a blank. �We went to school together. I�m Cathy, Cathy Banton. You�re Matt Lawton right?"

Matt�s eyes widened. Cathy Banton was every guy�s dream, every girl�s nightmare back in school. Prom queen, valedictorian, most likely to succeed. What the hell was she doing here approaching him for Christ�s sake? He was amazed she even remembered his name.

Matt couldn�t think of anything witty to say, so instead went with a more conventional greeting. �Yeah I�m Matt, It�s good to see ya.� They shook hands like old friends.

She was still pretty, not like he remembered, but pretty just the same. Her hair was blonde, but with dark roots and straight, not at all the dark curly locks he remembered. Her skin was tan and smooth looking, much the same as before. There was no ring, single Matt assumed. She was relatively thin, a little heavier than before, but not much. There was a wrinkle in her forehead, bags under her eyes. Different than the original, but still nice. Just a little more wear and tear than he would have expected at her age. Matt had always figured she would be a lawyer or doctor, marry someone equally wealthy, and have beautiful children, live happily ever after. This did not seem to be the case.

�So how you�ve been?� Cathy asked Matt.

He told her about his uncle passing away and his mother some years back. He tried to think of something good about his life to share with her, but couldn�t think of anything. Surely there something, he thought to himself. Before he could dig too deeply into his memory, she started with her story.

�After high school, in my first year of college, I met this guy. We fell in love. He said he wanted to marry me. But before we could buy the ring, I got pregnant. Everything changed after that. He treated me bad. He said if I had the baby, I would ruin his future. He pressured me every day. You can�t have this child. I just wanted things to go back to the way it was. So I agreed to do it. His parents had money. His dad arranged for a limo to pick me up. I rode in a limo on the way to kill my unborn child!�

By now Cathy was crying. Matt gave her a napkin and she wiped her eyes. �After it was done, the driver just dropped me off on some corner. After that I never saw my boyfriend again. He transferred away and that was that. He never even called to see if I was all right or anything. I dropped out of college. And here I am. Your prom queen and valedictorian.� She tried to smile but it only brought more tears.

Matt felt so bad for Cathy, and instinctively he reached out to hug her. They embraced. A chill slid up Matt�s spine. He took a deep breath. He had been without a woman for so long. He hoped the words came out right. �Cathy this is going to sound insane, I know, but if I don�t say this now I may regret it for the rest of my life. I�ve come into some money, quite a bit in fact. Enough to take care of us. We could leave tonight, go anywhere, start a new life. It could be great. I�d take care of you, treat you like you should be treated. Anywhere you wanted to go.

�Anywhere?� she questioned. �Anywhere on God�s green earth, Matt answered.

�What�ll you say?� Cathy paused, her eyes filled with hope and anticipation.

�I say yes.� she exclaimed. �Yes.�

Matt wrapped his arms around her and this time they kissed. �I have some things to take care of. Meet me at the airport at midnight.�

�What should I bring?� she asked.

�Just you.� He answered. �Midnight.� He said and kissed her again.

�Midnight.�

He hated to leave her but he had to get the coins before they could go anywhere. As he paid the tab and walked away he looked back at her.

�Matt?�

�Yeah.�

�Please be there at twelve!�

He smiled, trying his best to reassure her. �I wouldn�t miss it for the world.�

***

Much like Lou, he didn�t trust the others. So he waited till dark, loaded the car with a pick, shovel and of course, the map of the land. He packed it all in a large backpack he dug out of the closet. He drove the Olds down the long stretch of road leading to Uncle Lou�s land. The car rattled as it struggled to maintain the speed of fifty-five. He couldn�t wait to get a new car. He definitely wanted a Corvette. It had always been his father�s favorite.

Not a day went by that Matt didn�t miss his parents. His father had started a new life very far from Matt. They talked on holidays and birthdays, but that was about the extent of it, no where near the closeness they had once shared when his mother was living. Matt made excuses for his father�s absence, but the truth was he had crossed out his old life and started a new one. He was no longer part of his plans.

Matt parked the car a distance from the land and walked the rest of the way. He watched carefully to make sure no one had followed him. A car headed in the opposite direction Matt was walking, passed by him. The glare of the headlights temporarily seized his vision. He squinted to retake it, as the car sped on by. He took the map from his pocket. His palms were sweaty despite the cool temperatures. He looked up at the moon, as it hid behind a patch of clouds. The sky had not changed from earlier and remained overcast.

The prospect of walking in the woods-- with only the light of the flashlight--did not excite him. However the promise that awaited him once he cleared the woods, and the woman who would help him start a new life, was more than enough to overcome his fears, and so he moved on.

The ground crumbled under the steps of his boots. The wind swirled through the trees, bringing the woods alive. Their branches quivered, and large water drops from an earlier cold drizzle fell on Matt�s head, mixed with sweat, and rolled down his forehead stinging his eyes. He wiped them with the sleeve of his shirt. A dog in the distance barked out a warning. Matt got the feeling he was being watched. Each time he took a step he heard a noise in the distance. Each time he stopped, the noise abruptly subsided.

He remembered as a child how the dark struck a fear in him, even in the safety of his own bed, that he hid his eyes under the covers till the wee hours of the morning. Every noise, every creak of the house, his heart would nearly jump out of his chest. Now that very fear suddenly took hold of him and again he was a defenseless child. He had to hurry, before it completely took over, so he picked up the pace taking larger, more rapid steps. He tried to think of Cathy and how great it would feel to wake up beside her. He wondered if her skin was as soft as it looked. For now the thought of being with a woman, having someone to love, pulled him through the darkened woods, but with a shaky hand.

At last, he made it to the clearing. He took out the map and flashed his light upon it. At the center there was a barn with an x on it; Matt flashed his light around the large field. After a few seconds, a wooden barn obstructed it, showcasing it�s own lackluster rust color. From there, Matt followed the simplistic directions to the stake with the red cloth around it, marking the temporary residence of Uncle Lou�s treasure.

Matt stomped freely on the dirt. The ground was soft. He tossed the backpack from his back and removed the pick. He flung it in the air and the ground obliged, breaking up easily. Now it was now the shovel�s turn. Before long, he was standing in the depths of a large hole, sweat beads covering his face.

Why had Lou buried the inheritance so deep?

The shovel squealed as it hit wood. Matt�s eyes widened. He cleared the dirt from the crate. How many coins could this crate hold? He definitely would have to make more than one trip. When he cleared the dirt, Matt placed the shovel under the lid of the crate, put one leg outside the hole and forced the lid open. The smell struck him in the face. The scent of rotted flesh saturated the air. Matt stared at the contents of the crate. He gagged and then disgorged his dinner onto the ground, before releasing a shrill cry.

It was Aunt Viv, adorned in her favorite Sunday dress. One side of her head was pulverized and her eyeball dangled from the socket, touching her cheek. Her hair, which had once been a beautiful shade of auburn, was now the color of mud and old dried blood. Some of her skin had decayed, showing her brittle bones. Her hands were folded over a small jewelry box that Matt recognized from Uncle Lou and Aunt Viv�s bedroom. He figured the coins were inside the jewelry box. In order to retrieve them, he would have to move Viv�s hands... or what was left of them.

He considered running, and never telling anyone what he had seen. But what about Cathy? Then again, he could reach down and get the box, cover the hole back up, and forget this ever happened. There was even a third option. He could take the coins and go to the police, but there would be questions and then more questions. They could possibly even try to link him to Aunt Viv�s death. That last thought scared Matt most of all. He could not survive a day in jail with the rapists and killers looking him up and down. He had heard the horror stories in the documentaries and the HBO specials. He knew what they did to initiate the new inmates. Matt decided he would take the money, cover Aunt Viv up and run like a bat out of hell!

He stepped down into the hole beside the crate. The smell threatened to extract more of his insides out onto the ground. He reached out, held on to the grass with one hand for balance, and slowly moved the other hand toward the velvet jewelry box. He didn�t dare look down. He had seen enough already. His hand reached its intended destination and he pulled the box away from Aunt Viv�s corpse.

Then something stopped him.

Aunt Viv�s tiny hand gripped Matt�s wrist tightly. Matt squealed with the strength and terror of a man about to die. He managed to jerk his arm away and grabbed onto the grass, trying to pull himself out. The ground gave away and Matt slid back down on top of his aunt.

�Louuuuu...... Louuuuuu�. Viv cried. She pinned Matt down with both limbs wrapped around him. He screamed and wiggled but could not manage to get away. �Why, Louuuuuuu,why?�

Matt aggressively placed his elbow into her mutilated face. He felt the dead skin give away. He turned to face her. She smiled, though one side of her face was caved in, showcasing long, sharp, rotting teeth, before letting out a vociferous shrill laugh which chilled Matt�s bones and erased any thoughts he had of escaping. He went to move, but instead found himself paralyzed. It was probably just as well.

Viv raised up, her eager mouth open, as the jewelry box spilled out releasing the coins into the coffin. Matt�s last thoughts were of a woman wandering around in an airport with hopes and dreams of a better life, and of Uncle Lou. The others were right. He really was a son of a bitch.

***

Brian W. Keen is the writer of strange words. His work has appeared in Dark Animus, Macabre, Scared Naked, The Haunted, Blood Moon Rising, Deep Magic, and others. He has a story scheduled to appear in Shadowland in December.

***

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