Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
Feels like they got a bit of cool air going inside, but it fucking smells. Combination of skunk weed and somethin’ much worse.
There’s enough light coming in from the hallway for me to see without my Streamlight.
The kitchen’s a disaster. Aged grease caked on pots and pans on top of dirty plates and glassware. I don’t wanna know what else. The smell alone is starting to get to me. It comes damn close to some of the worst smells I’ve ever walked into, and that includes when I was on the job.
I close the broken rear door as best as I can. Once through the hallway and into the living room I have to use my Streamlight. It’s bright as shit and can blind someone for a couple of seconds, so I keep it close to my feet and away from the windows. The living room is just as messy and the smell worse. Normal shit like pizza boxes, beer bottles, even a fucking half-empty bottle of Jameson. A flat-screen is on the floor across from a sofa. Looks like it’s hooked up, and it sure as hell looks like mine, but I can’t be positive. I didn’t keep the serial number, and even if I did want to take it, I’m not about to lug that thing down the block. Then again, maybe I’ll call Diamond and ask him to come pick me up. Ha.
Bedrooms are what I want to search. The stairs leading to the second floor are creaky. I got my stun gun ready and will drop it quick enough to unholster my weapon if I have to. Once up the stairs I find five doors. The frame of one is narrow enough to be a linen closet or something like that. One door is open, and it leads to a bathroom. Two other doors across from each other at the far end of the narrow hallway are partially open. There’s only one door at the near end, and it’s closed. A faint light on the inside from under the door. I go there first.
Fucking creaky floors. I’m no ninja. I’m closer to that smell. I know what a dead body smells like, and this is worse. I turn off the Streamlight and stick it back in my front pants pocket.
I try the doorknob. It turns. I open it slow, enough to get a look inside. The smell hits me like an evil spirit taking possession of my body. Fucking overwhelming is an understatement.
A dull light is cast over most of the room by a small nightstand lamp.
An old lady in the queen-size bed, under the covers, just her head poking out, rotting or sleeping—who knows?
Damn.