Burnout: A Kenzie Gilmore Thriller by Biba Pearce & Without Warrant

Author:Biba Pearce & Without Warrant [Pearce, Biba]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Liquid Mind Publishing
Published: 2022-09-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23

It was like a scene from a dystopian science fiction movie. The floor was thick with ash and debris, the walls blackened by fire damage, and a mutilation of wires dangled from exposed sockets. Reid wrinkled his nose. An acrid smell of God-knows-what hung in the air.

“Mind your step,” Diaz warned him. The water and fire-retardant foam had turned everything into a seething mess.

They were dressed in full forensic gear. Overalls, booties, masks, and gloves. This was a live crime scene, and they couldn’t risk contaminating any potential evidence. He glanced around for signs of human remains, but found none.

“Where are they?”

Diaz pointed to the left. “There’s another room.”

A wardrobe, or what was left of it, had been pushed aside to reveal a door in the wall. From where he was standing, it looked like yet another piece of burned debris, which was why he hadn’t noticed it. The forensic team had pried it open, and now it lay discarded on the floor.

“They were burned alive,” the frazzled medical examiner told them. “Every last one. It’s not pretty.”

Reid took a deep breath and ducked through into the secret room. Water dripped off the door frame onto his forehead, but he hardly noticed.

Jesus Christ.

Charred bodies lay everywhere. Their contorted positions indicative of the painful deaths they’d suffered. Most were curled in the fetal position, trying to protect themselves from the merciless flames. Others were splayed out, mouths open in silent, blackened screams as if pleading with someone—anyone—to open the door.

“Is it bad?” came Diaz’s voice.

“Yeah.” It was a croak. He counted them, slowly, one by one, giving each his or her due. Five men, three women, and one smaller frame that could have been a child or teenager. “Nine bodies total.”

Diaz climbed down, then came to an abrupt halt.

“Oh, geez,” she whispered. He’d never seen her turn so pale.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” She stared around the room for a long moment, soaking up the horror. It changed a person, something like this. They’d both carry it with them. Pulling herself together, she said, “I’m going to take some photographs for our records.”

“We’ll get the forensic photographer’s images,” he told her. “You don’t have to do this.”

“That’ll take ages,” she said, and she was right. By the time the CSI team had documented the victims, taken the bodies to the morgue and the evidence to the lab, it would be days, if not weeks, later. Then would come the write-up and the report, including the photographs.

They didn’t have that long. They didn’t want to wait.

He gave her a stiff nod.

She got to work, her hands trembling a little as she held the camera.

Reid studied the faces of the victims, gasping their last breath. What a way to go. His own brush with smoke inhalation made him relate to them even more. He knew what it felt like to gasp for air, to feel the hairs on your body singe as the fire got closer. He only hoped they died of asphyxiation before the flames got to them.

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