Blood Justice by Terry J. Benton-Walker

Author:Terry J. Benton-Walker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tor Publishing Group

* * *

Zac pulled into the driveway of the yellow-paneled cottage where he’d grown up at exactly 2:12 A.M. and found every light on inside the house.

Dad’s SUV was parked in its usual spot at the head of the driveway underneath the carport, so he was home. But what was going on? Dad wasn’t usually up past midnight unless he was working at the bar—and those days had come to an end.

Zac got out of his old pickup truck and gingerly made his way to the front door. He stuck the key in the lock, and the door crept ajar. Carefully, he pushed it open all the way and stepped inside.

The front room was completely disheveled. Not like the last time Zac had come home at the start of last summer. This was different.

It seemed as if there’d been some sort of struggle.

Zac closed the door softly behind him and locked it, then surveyed the room. Tables lay on their sides. Mail, couch cushions, and other random items were strewn around the room. It was like a miniature tornado had whipped through.

Dad’s laptop sat on the floor in two smashed halves. The television remained whole and mounted on the wall.

This wasn’t a robbery.

“Dad?” Zac called out. Fear flooded his throat, making him sound squeaky and insecure. If a killer was lurking somewhere, the weakness in his voice would lure them straight to him.

Zac noticed a trail of soiled clothing stretched from the edge of the family room into the kitchen. He picked up each piece, which had begun to stink with the foul odors of sweat and … decay.

Dad’s tuxedo.

Zac held up the white button-up shirt and gawked at the ridiculous amount of blood that’d turned black, staining the whole front.

Is that … Dad’s blood?

“Dad?” Zac called out again, his voice louder, more urgent, matching the heightened pace of his thumping heart.

The house responded with silence.

But Zac felt another presence, a warm static sensation at the back of his neck.

He whipped around, quickly scanning his brightly lit surroundings. He was alone.

Gooseflesh prickled his skin.

For a split second, Zac thought something supernatural might be going on. He’d never believed in that shit before. The worst monster anyone could imagine still couldn’t hurt him. Not like real, live people had. They were the real monsters.

Cautiously, Zac searched the small cottage, but Dad was nowhere to be found. All Zac had been able to locate was Dad’s cell phone, which had died. He plugged it in and waited a few minutes for it to power back on.

There were a bunch of missed calls from Eveline Beaumont and a few others from unknown numbers. The notifications dated all the way back to Sunday.

Six days.

All that blood.

Is Dad hurt? Or worse … dead?

But where the hell was Dad? Zac had checked every room. Every closet. Every corner. Even underneath the beds.

Except the basement.

Zac stood in front of the door, which had been bolted shut from the outside. There was no way Dad could be down there.

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