KADE
He stuck to the cover of dense shrubbery and the long shadows it cast. His hands felt light without the weight of his father's body in them. His muscles trembled, and his thighs vibrated.
The air was loaded with chaos, with the promise of much-needed rain, so he marched as quickly as possible, hoping to beat it.
The walk back from the incinerator was much quicker than the walk to it. The scents of burning flesh and fabric still hung in his nose but lessened every second he spent in the fresh air.
The incinerator was a big hike. Every major family had one of their own at the back of their property line. They burned trash, yard clippings, and the occasional Unfortunate. Lucky for him, it was trash day, so the incinerator was turned on at midnight to heat up for the day ahead.
Michael's body didn't disintegrate immediately. It wasn't hot enough for that. It was a slow burn. Like hellfire, it slowly consumed the fabric, then Michael's flesh, then his bones.