He Speaks Dead by Adrienne Wilder

Author:Adrienne Wilder [Wilder, Adrienne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Amazon: B008KFC72G
Publisher: Loose Id LLC
Published: 2012-07-09T12:00:00+00:00

* * * *

A half hour later I popped in next to Charlie as the sedan made a slow crawl up a long, desolate street. The area around the campus was comprised of half-finished subdivisions with outdated houses. An up-and-coming residential area that never quite made the hurdle. At the end of the road I could see a closed-down outlet mall just beyond a row of naked trees.

We headed across the fractured parking lot lost under decades of weeds. The lawns around the school were even more overgrown, with trees bursting out of stonework and turning wide-open spaces into forest. As bad as it looked, you could tell it had once been breathtaking. Charter High in its prime had looked more like a college campus. The building was constructed of a light gray brick and the design was typical for the seventies: squared off with a lot of lines and narrow windows. Very retro. The kind of place that had gone out of style in the eighties but was fast coming back into vogue. If it hadn’t been for the graffiti, the trash, and the plywood covering busted windows and doors, the old school would have been pretty.

Charlie got out. Briggs put his gun on his belt, pocketed his badge, but left his flashlight in hand. He paused to lock the car before following Charlie. I couldn’t blame him. The ground was covered in needles, crack pipes, and various undergarments of questionable origin. No telling who could be hanging around. As it was, we could very well return to a stripped sedan up on blocks.

Charlie took a few steps, then lifted his foot to look at the bottom of his shoe, frowning. I didn’t even dare look. “Maybe we should have brought hazmat suits.” After Charlie scraped his sneaker clean, we followed Briggs up the walkway to a set of double doors. Vulgar words covered the plywood on the doors in a rainbow mix of spray paint. Briggs tugged the edge of one of the boards, and it slid out of the way with very little effort. Obviously we weren’t the only ones who’d decided Charter High was a good place to explore.

Inside it was worse. Trash up to Charlie’s ankles, gang signs and vulgarity on the walls. Where the paint wasn’t peeling, there were massive patches of black mold. Above us the corkboard ceiling bulged from water damage, mottled with brown spots.

Charlie’s nose wrinkled. “It smells like piss in here.”

Briggs laughed. “Be thankful that’s all it smells like.”

It wasn’t completely dark on the inside. Light trickled in through gaps in the boarded-up windows, highlighting rust-covered lockers. Books, papers, notebooks were in moldy mounds under gaping doors, like the storage units had just puked up all their contents.

Briggs turned on his flashlight, and a bright beam cut a swath through the shadowed interior.

As we passed down the hall, a few of the classrooms looked untouched, while others had been trashed by vagrants. Globes, chalkboards, desks, jars of formaldehyde with dead things floating in them.

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