Bottom Feeders (Bill of the Dead Adventures Book 1) by Rick Gualtieri

Author:Rick Gualtieri [Gualtieri, Rick]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Freewill Press
Published: 2020-09-05T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 7

“Son of a bitch, that stinks!”

And it wasn’t just old person funk.

Okay, that was probably not even remotely respectful to the dead, but fuck it. I doubted they cared much.

Either way, the room stunk like rotting ass.

Unlike the Colón place, the Goldman apartment had been locked. Normally that would’ve been my excuse to just leave, but the blood I’d found next door was enough to keep me going.

I’d debated my options for a moment, considering chopping my way in before remembering that I wasn’t a fucking lumberjack. Fortunately, most door jambs weren’t exactly built like Fort Knox, so I put my shoulder into it ... effectively doing nothing because I weighed like maybe a hundred and thirty pounds. I mean, it was nice that Sheila had a good metabolism and all, but some days it felt like a strong breeze might blow me away.

I tried a second time, bruising my arm. That’s when I got pissed and put my all into it ... which probably would’ve also done dick had my aura not decided to activate. The magical barrier slammed into the frame, breaking the lock and sending the door flying open.

Huh. Who’d a thunk it? I hadn’t realized my powers were good for anything but keeping things from shredding me. Handy to know they were useful for breaking and entering, too.

Sadly, there hadn’t been time to enjoy my small victory as the stink of rotting flesh had slammed into me like a boot to the face.

All I wanted to do was shut the damned door again and find some fresh air, but that wasn’t what Christy would’ve done. If I was going to prove I was more than just the comedy relief of my circle – not that I didn’t come up with awesome quips from time to time – I needed to see this through.

So, rather than puke on my shoes, I stepped inside, closed the door behind me, and flipped on the light switch.

Then immediately wished I hadn’t.

Two bodies, most of them anyway, were on the floor.

It wasn’t the Goldmans, that much was obvious, as there was just enough left to realize I wasn’t staring at some geriatric married couple.

Two men lay there, dead as dead can be. Both were naked, although I was spared from having to stare at their junk, being that they didn’t have any. Both had been carved up like Thanksgiving turkeys. Bloody ribs shown in chests that had been emptied like a broken piñata. It was the same with their mid-sections down to about midleg. They’d both been stripped of flesh nearly down to the bone.

The room around them was a bloody mess, but there didn’t seem to be any sign of organs or human rump roasts. Whoever had done this at least hadn’t been wasteful.

Letting my aura fly free again, I quickly checked the other rooms, finding them thankfully empty of either the living or the dead.

Stepping back out into the slaughterhouse slash living room, I approached the dining room table upon which lay a pile of bloodstained kitchen knives.

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