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Chapter 23 – Timmy Barfield

Chapter 23 – Timmy Barfield

[Location: Decontamination Depot t3rm1nu5 - Bay Number Three]

After Jack and Charlie had secured the cargo pod, they took a breather. Ruben wasn’t a big guy but even with his gear removed he was hard to move around. Charlie bent over and put his hands on his knees and inhaled as much oxygen as his body could handle; Jack leaned up against the door of the cargo pod and did the same. Charlie tugged at the battle armor close to his neck to try and release some of the body heat that had built up inside the tight fitting suit. He hadn’t worn battle armor since he was in the Army and while he thought this modern version was superior to what he had previously worn, it was still hot and confining.

Once Jack caught his breath he said, “I remember the first time I saw a dead body.” He used his sleeve to absorb the sweat from his forehead.

Still winded and breathing heavily, Charlie stood up and put his hands on his hips. “Well let me tell ya, tragic stuff like that tends to get fire-branded into the human memory. No matter how many years go by, it’s still there, burned into your mind and waiting to show up the next time you can’t sleep at night or get stuck in bumper to bumper traffic.”

Jack looked at Charlie. “You’re right. One day it popped into my mind while I was cutting the grass.”

Charlie asked, “So when did it happen?”

“I was in sixth grade…about twelve I guess.” Jack looked into the distance as if he was watching a movie on a screen.

“I lived in a neighborhood that had been a cornfield at one time. The farmer would sell portions of his property—four maybe five acres at a time—and then somebody would build a house on it.” He paused for a second and ran his hand through his sweat soaked hair.

“So outside of my neighborhood it was pretty desolate…cornfields and a gravel road that took you into Somersville which was about five miles away. Right around the Fourth of July, one of my friends went missing…Timmy Barfield. Since the neighborhood was small—only ten, twelve houses—all of us kids knew one another. I used to hang out with Timmy and trade baseball cards. Anyways…one day he doesn’t come home for lunch. His mom freaks out and starts combing the neighborhood to find him. She calls the cops and the word goes out that twelve-year-old Timmy Barfield has gone missing. Well they searched for a week and didn’t find him. Nothing. Not one lead.” Jack pressed his lips together and huffed.

“Things sort of went back to normal…except for Timmy’s mom I guess. Then about two weeks later the mailman is going through the neighborhood delivering the mail. He stopped to put the mail into a box and noticed a fragrance he wasn’t familiar with. So he gets out of his mail truck and starts looking around. Since our neighborhood was kind’a rural…this house was set way at the back of the property and the driveway ran about three or four hundred feet to the gravel road. There was a large drainage gulley…maybe six feet deep, that was used to collect rainwater on the side of the road and it was normally filled with tall weeds because the ground was always so moist. Well the mailman follows the smell and sees a body in the gulley hidden by the weeds. He gets all excited and starts yelling and then runs to the nearest house to use the phone to call the cops.” Jack looked down and put his hands into his pockets.

“Well, us kids heard the commotion and went to see what was going on. When I looked into the gulley I saw Timmy Barfield lying on his back. His skin was all white…his eyes were open but they didn’t seem to be looking at anything. His mouth was twisted into a grimace as if he was screaming when he died. He was covered with black greasy stuff and his legs and arms had to be broken because they were all pointing in the wrong directions. For about the first thirty seconds I just stared at his body; I was kinda frozen. While I was standing there Timmy’s mom came running down the road to see if the kid they found was her son. She ran past me and the three or four other kids that were there watching and went down into the gulley.” Jack paused, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“As she got farther in, she realized it was Timmy and she started screaming.” He opened his eyes, looked forward, and swallowed hard. “

“Then she comes running out of the gulley screaming her husband’s name and crying. When I saw that I started to cry as well—we all did.” Jack pulled his hands from his pockets, folded them across his chest and let his shoulder slump.

“Definitely one of the worst things I’ve ever seen. And ya know what I remember most? It was the way Timmy’s mom screamed when she saw him. It was like somebody took a butcher knife and slammed it right into my heart. Fifteen years later and I can still hear that scream.” Jack stood quietly.

Charlie asked, “So how did he end up in the gulley? He get hit by a car?”

Jack shook his head a little. “Us kids would follow the garbage truck around the neighborhood on our bikes every Wednesday during summer vacation. We would just sit on our bikes and watch the garbage get smashed into the hopper. Well…from what they figured out, Timmy was on his bike behind the garbage truck one day—and they’re not exactly sure but the scenario was that the garbage man drove past the garbage cans at this house and had to back up to get closer. Well…when he backed up he rolled over Timmy and pushed his body into the gulley. The driver never saw him and he didn’t even realize that he had done it.”

Charlie gave Jack a skeptical glance. “How did they come up with that?”

“When they did the autopsy they could tell he had been run over by a large vehicle and his bike looked like an elephant sat on it. They also noticed a black greasy substance on his body and clothes. They figured out that the grime was from the back of the garbage truck. Ya know, where all of the liquids inside the garbage leaks out.” Jack took a breath and exhaled. “Something I will never forget.”

“What happened to the garbage man?” Charlie asked.

Jack rubbed the injury on the top of his head. “There’s another sad story. When the guy heard what he had done, he drank himself into a stupor and stuck a .357 into his mouth.”

Charlie lowered his head. “Geez… definitely not something I would want to remember on a constant basis.”

Jack replied, “And seeing Jozef and Roy and now…” His voice cracked as he paused to control his emotions. “And now Ruben.” He sniffled. “Timmy Barfield keeps popping into my head.”

The two men stood in silence for a few minutes pondering the situation. They were going to have to search D.D.315 from top to bottom to find Tom Salsbury. Charlie knew every nook and cranny of the depot so he put together a detailed search plan. The idea was to search the inhabitable sections of the depot first because it was easier to navigate than the plant floor and it was most likely where Tom was hiding.

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