The Book of Death (Bourbon Kid 4)

everywhere. I
think the killings have only just occurred and the killer could still be in the
vicinity. I’m on my own. Please send backup otherwise I’m getting the fuck
outta here.’ There was a pause before he added, ‘I’ve got donuts.’
    Dante and Kacy exchanged a quick
look.
    Kacy said what was on both their
minds. ‘He just said there was blood everywhere. Fresh blood. Are you thinking
what I’m thinking?’
    ‘Dante nodded. ‘Yeah. Fresh
blood and we wouldn’t have to kill anyone.’
    ‘Remington Tower is only a
couple of blocks from here,’ said Kacy.
    Dante pushed his foot down hard
on the accelerator. ‘I’ll get us there in two minutes,’ he said.

 
    Twenty

 
    The pool of blood on the
hardwood floor was edging slowly towards Sanchez’s feet. He glanced back at the
dead guy with the pink hair in the hall. The poor bastard’s throat was hanging
out and blood was still seeping out down the front of his shirt. But it looked
like he’d gotten off easy in comparison to the dead woman just inside the door
of apartment 406. Sanchez reckoned she was probably in her early thirties, but
her face was such a mess it was hard to be sure. Her eyes had been gouged out
and her face was caked in blood. She had a bit of a big chin too, he thought
inconsequently. There was blood running all down it, due in no small part to
the fact that her tongue had been ripped out. A quick scan around the room
revealed that she wasn’t the only victim. There were two other corpses inside
the room, both of them in a similar state. But no sign of a killer. Or, for
that matter, Jessica.
    The bloodied blouse on the dead
woman had been ripped open and she had vicious deep gashes across her chest. In
fact Sanchez was pretty sure one of her nipples was on the floor near his feet.
Closer inspection of her blouse showed that it had the local hospital logo on
it and the word “MEDIC” sewn in green lettering on the right breast pocket.
Using his new detective skills, Sanchez came to the conclusion that the dead
bodies were that of the ambulance crew.
    The two other bodies in the
apartment were in pretty bad shape too. One of them, wearing a standard white
medic’s uniform, was on all fours with his head stuck through the television
screen. Another, a black guy from the ambulance crew, was lying on his back in
a crucifix pose staring up at the ceiling. Well, he would have been staring if
he had any eyes. Someone had gouged them out and all that was left were two
gaping holes. His white uniform was also stained as badly as that of the woman
Sanchez was in the process of stepping over.
    Unsurprisingly the place
absolutely stank. At least one of these corpses had shit their pants, Sanchez
decided. The stench made him want to spray some Forest Fresh air freshener
around the room. It was also noticeable that the apartment was as cold as the
streets outside.
    The reason for the cold became evident
when a huge gust of wind from outside blew the curtains open.
    ‘What kind of a moron keeps
their windows open in this weather?’he pondered, gripping the end of
his nightstick tightly.
    Then, behind the sofa, he
spotted two more dead bodies. Both were men dressed in standard blue police
uniforms.
    What the fuck?
    There was no sign of a bullet
wound on anyone. The murders reminded him of the slayings of his brother Thomas
and his wife Audrey. He had found them murdered in a similar state a year
earlier. The two cops were covered in blood, their eyes were missing and their
tongues not particularly visible. What the hell had gone on here? He leaned
over the nearest dead police officer to get a better look. It was a
forty-something overweight donut loving fellow with grey hair. In a holster by
his ribcage he had a small pistol. Sanchez replaced his nightstick on his belt
and reached down to the pistol. He slipped his fingers around the handle,
hoping to avoid getting any blood on his hands, then slid it out of the holster
and took a look at it. It was largely blood free, or at least, the handle was,
so he gripped it tightly in his right hand. If there was a killer nearby he
needed to be ready to point it and look like he might fire it. He had a pretty
dismal record with handguns, but it was better to have one for show and not
need to use it, than to not have one at all.
    Looking for other items that
might be of use he noticed that the cop also had a CB radio on his belt.
Sanchez had wanted a CB radio ever since he was a kid. He