Hunt the Dawn by Abbie Roads

Author:Abbie Roads [Roads, Abbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2016-10-20T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Night brought harmony to the barren woods. A breeze wrestled with the dead leaves, filling the air with soft sighs. Naked branches clacked together, the sound hollow and melodic like wind chimes made of human bone.

Even though James had been watching Lathaniel’s home for seventeen hours, inquisitiveness vibrated in his bones, keeping him wide-eyed awake. Curiosity had fought a brief but violent battle with his prudence. Curiosity won. Now he was going in. Going to find out what happened after the last gunshot.

He covered every bit of his body with the clean-room suit, palmed his Ruger—just in case—and moved through the forest toward Lathaniel’s house.

The massive dog was still alive. It lay on the ground, heaving great bellowing breaths as its body fought against the bullet lodged in its chest. The animal’s black eyes watched James walk up the porch steps, but it could do nothing else to defend the homestead.

The back door stood wide open—a portal to the great unknown. Kitchen lights shone down, displaying the scene before him as if it were on a stage.

James’s first impression was of Death’s invisible presence.

Death’s immensity filled the room. It changed the air, made it empty and hard to fulfill his body’s need for oxygen, and transformed sound into muted shadows.

James never feared Death.

Death was his creation, but here in this home, Death became his friend and ally, and blood was the only color that existed.

The crimson stain was everywhere, on everything and everyone. It was inspiring. Beautiful. Would’ve been an enchanting image to record on film.

Three bodies. Two male—one of which was Lathaniel Montgomery. One female. Lathaniel’s woman.

Death sidled up to James, breathed into his ear, telling him exactly what had happened between the two men. He had no reason to question Death’s assessment. Death never lied. It was part of their agreement; James fed Death, and Death was loyal to him.

Death didn’t speak of the woman. She was alive and of no consequence to Death. But she captivated James.

Her naked torso wore blood like body paint. Despite the coating, James could see a jagged ring of tooth marks marring her left breast. A human animal had masticated her. A prelude to rape—foreplay for the perpetrator. The wound itself wasn’t that remarkable. He’d seen that kind of injury on no fewer than a dozen women during his career. He had granted Subject 57 that experience.

He could still remember the tremendous pressure it took to bite through Subject 57’s breasts. Human teeth weren’t designed for biting and chewing raw flesh.

The reason James had been watching Lathaniel—the entire reason—was to figure out how a lowly special skills consultant obtained hair and a tooth from a victim not yet discovered by the authorities. And the eye. He’d somehow found the eye. There was no conceivable explanation. James’s answers had vanished along with Lathaniel’s life.

An idea slid out of James’s mind, squirming and wriggling like a freshly birthed babe: Take the woman. She and Lathaniel were obviously lovers; he could get answers from her.

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