Chloe - Never Forget (Carl Sant Murder Mysteries Book 2) by Dan Laughey

Author:Dan Laughey [Laughey, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creativia
Published: 2019-03-06T22:00:00+00:00

Zach was worried. Why? Because he knew the difference between a bad smell and a stench. Rotten food, dirty linen, the personal hygiene of his housemates – all these things constituted the unpleasant. But the reek greeting his nostrils that evening was coming out of no overflowing bin or mouldy kebab from the night before.

Zach actually gave a damn about housekeeping. Greg just laughed it off as the after-effects of his latest vindaloo. Lewis talked about getting the Department for Environment to inspect the place – he was all talk, no action. And Ollie couldn’t give two hoots, his sense of smell permanently warped by the chemicals he snorted.

Zach’s uncontaminated nasal instinct led him squarely to the door of the cellar. The only time it got used was for the occasional house party. It was the only room big enough to accommodate a sound system and makeshift dance floor. Zach wasn’t really a dancer. Blowing whistles, getting high on pills? Whose idea of a good time was that?

The light switch, inconveniently, was located near the base of the stone stairwell. He treaded slowly down the steep steps, feeling his way along the spider-webbed wall as he went. Eventually his roving hands settled on the switch. He pressed down.

Pop!

The bulb had blown. Zach went back up the stairs in search of his torch. Be prepared! Boy scouts’ lingo! A minute later he returned, a little surer on his feet now he’d rehearsed the descent, more assured as he swept the flashlight across the cellar in search of the source of the stench.

Before long, Zach saw something move across the line of his vision. More than one thing – two, three, four, five of them, scuttling along the basement floor. Rats. Unmistakable rats. He traced their flight by the light of his torch. Then he swung the beam back to the corner of the room from whence the rats had scurried. A whole army of the wretched creatures were prancing around on top of each other, nibbling away at the floor tiles.

Zach concentrated on dulling his senses to the stink as he cautiously worked his way towards the rat pack. Then, stepping forward on tiptoe, he noticed the object of the rats’ fascination wasn’t the tiles. It was a long, slightly bent, black bundle of sorts, several heavy-duty bin liners chewed to shreds, but still concealing the contents inside.

Trying in vain not to breathe the same air as the filthy rodents in front of him, Zach stooped as close as he dared to the rancid bundle, directing his beam at the end most severely gnawed.

He turned away jerkily. Enough was enough. Lewis was right. It was time to call in the Department for Environment.

But that thought drifted away in the putrid air as curiosity got the better of him, thrusting him a few steps forward. Suddenly he stepped back on reflex, his sense of smell overcome by dread. It was a real-life version of a scene from the worst horror movie ever.

Zach – poor, poor Zachary – was staring down at a minging human head.

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