Tales of Sin and Madness

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Dedicated to Dick and Brian.

With special thanks to the good folk at LegumeMan Books.

It looked as though nobody had been by for months to clean the sign that stood by the side of the highway.

Simon Fletcher carefully set down the burlap sack on the reddish-brown soil, then dropped his backpack beside it. He raised an arm and brushed away the dirt from the sign with a dry, leathery hand. When he had uncovered the prize, he looked down at the large sack. “We’re heading in the right direction,” he said, spitting out a clump of dust encrusted phlegm. “Coober Pedy twenty kilometres.”

He glanced up and down the wide, dusty highway. Empty.

Thank Christ.

He turned away from the highway and opened his backpack. Pulled out one of the bottles and unscrewed the top. Flecks of dirt fell away and he took no notice of the cloudy water as he downed a small amount.

It had been a clean bottle, once. The water clear and cool. Now all ten bottles were tainted with the filth of the land, the sweat of his journey and the blood of the dead.

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