Erik Handy Read Online Free Page A
Author: Hell of the Dead
out onto the street, clutching his stomach.
Nolan stopped in his tracks.
What had to be blood gushed from the spot beneath the grocer's hands.
Nolan rushed to the wounded man just as the latter fell to his knees. The grocer looked up in Nolan's direction, but not at the priest.
"Father," he started. He couldn't continue. He could only manage to point at the store before he went limp.
Nolan hurried inside.
Chapter 13
The store didn't show any evident signs of danger or distress. Nonetheless, that safety Nolan yearned for out in the humid street was washed away. By the time he made it to the back where the grocer and his family lived, there was not even an iota of thought that he would ever be safe, here or elsewhere.
Nolan saw the grocer's young son and daughter first. They were huddled in the corner of the room, half-hiding and half-looking at the body in the middle of the room. He caught a whiff of feces from their direction. At least they were alive.
Then he saw --
-- their pregnant mother.
She was face down among the pieces of coffee table. Her blood pooled out from her. Nolan never knew someone could have that much blood.
He felt a pang of remorse when he realized he didn't know their names or the names of the grocer and wife.
Through tears from fear, the two children looked at Nolan, then at their mother. Nolan didn't know what to do. He needed to do something. Anything. All he could think of was to squat next to the dead woman and touch her shoulder.
He almost vomited when her body moved away from her head.
Chapter 14
Six men trudged up through the thick green, effortlessly, deeper into the jungle, back to their secluded village. Over the shoulder of the one in the lead was an unconscious Marie. Medical tape had been wrapped around her chest and back, holding gauze to her grievous wound. It was soaked through, but still fulfilled its purpose.
She was being kept alive for a reason.
The second man in the procession, Rosalo. He held his son in a blanket. Jean Paul. Getting him back was easy. Same with Marie. He should have let her bleed to death in the church. He knew that. But what he had in store for her would be worse than a simple death.
He couldn’t wait to hear her cries when he killed their child in front of her. To break that bond between mother and child, let alone husband and wife. The pain that sprang from shattered trust and abject futility -- Rosalo felt an erection coming on.
But then what would he do after he sacrificed his child and then his wife? How would he sustain the rush? His village was down to twenty or thirty, all given over to his dominance simply so they could take their drugs and do things far from civilized eyes. It was only a matter of time before the village faded like his power and euphoria. Then, no amount of lesson he'd give or threats could save it. He would be empty then. Impotent.
Maybe he'd keep Marie alive longer than he planned.
Chapter 15
A small army amassed in front of the constable's office. That's what it seemed to the townspeople who gathered around the nine uniformed soldiers. The rifles the soldiers carried slung over their shoulders were as serious as their impassive looks of stone. This impressed the townsfolk to no end.
Apart from the soldiers was Constable Jacoby. The commander of the soldiers, Captain Fleur, was reading the constable the riot act.
From Nolan's position across the street, he couldn't make out what Fleur was saying. Obviously something Jacoby didn't want to hear. The constable stood, almost embarrassed, definitely irked that Nolan went over his head over this trivial matter.
Jacoby took the abuse without a word. After the grocer's death, Jacoby had no choice but to radio his supervisor to call for reinforcements. The loss of the grocer meant there was now a snag in the town's scheme of things. The grocer's actual death or that of his wife, or even the ordeal with the missing woman, didn't mean as much as the lack of a proper
Nolan stopped in his tracks.
What had to be blood gushed from the spot beneath the grocer's hands.
Nolan rushed to the wounded man just as the latter fell to his knees. The grocer looked up in Nolan's direction, but not at the priest.
"Father," he started. He couldn't continue. He could only manage to point at the store before he went limp.
Nolan hurried inside.
Chapter 13
The store didn't show any evident signs of danger or distress. Nonetheless, that safety Nolan yearned for out in the humid street was washed away. By the time he made it to the back where the grocer and his family lived, there was not even an iota of thought that he would ever be safe, here or elsewhere.
Nolan saw the grocer's young son and daughter first. They were huddled in the corner of the room, half-hiding and half-looking at the body in the middle of the room. He caught a whiff of feces from their direction. At least they were alive.
Then he saw --
-- their pregnant mother.
She was face down among the pieces of coffee table. Her blood pooled out from her. Nolan never knew someone could have that much blood.
He felt a pang of remorse when he realized he didn't know their names or the names of the grocer and wife.
Through tears from fear, the two children looked at Nolan, then at their mother. Nolan didn't know what to do. He needed to do something. Anything. All he could think of was to squat next to the dead woman and touch her shoulder.
He almost vomited when her body moved away from her head.
Chapter 14
Six men trudged up through the thick green, effortlessly, deeper into the jungle, back to their secluded village. Over the shoulder of the one in the lead was an unconscious Marie. Medical tape had been wrapped around her chest and back, holding gauze to her grievous wound. It was soaked through, but still fulfilled its purpose.
She was being kept alive for a reason.
The second man in the procession, Rosalo. He held his son in a blanket. Jean Paul. Getting him back was easy. Same with Marie. He should have let her bleed to death in the church. He knew that. But what he had in store for her would be worse than a simple death.
He couldn’t wait to hear her cries when he killed their child in front of her. To break that bond between mother and child, let alone husband and wife. The pain that sprang from shattered trust and abject futility -- Rosalo felt an erection coming on.
But then what would he do after he sacrificed his child and then his wife? How would he sustain the rush? His village was down to twenty or thirty, all given over to his dominance simply so they could take their drugs and do things far from civilized eyes. It was only a matter of time before the village faded like his power and euphoria. Then, no amount of lesson he'd give or threats could save it. He would be empty then. Impotent.
Maybe he'd keep Marie alive longer than he planned.
Chapter 15
A small army amassed in front of the constable's office. That's what it seemed to the townspeople who gathered around the nine uniformed soldiers. The rifles the soldiers carried slung over their shoulders were as serious as their impassive looks of stone. This impressed the townsfolk to no end.
Apart from the soldiers was Constable Jacoby. The commander of the soldiers, Captain Fleur, was reading the constable the riot act.
From Nolan's position across the street, he couldn't make out what Fleur was saying. Obviously something Jacoby didn't want to hear. The constable stood, almost embarrassed, definitely irked that Nolan went over his head over this trivial matter.
Jacoby took the abuse without a word. After the grocer's death, Jacoby had no choice but to radio his supervisor to call for reinforcements. The loss of the grocer meant there was now a snag in the town's scheme of things. The grocer's actual death or that of his wife, or even the ordeal with the missing woman, didn't mean as much as the lack of a proper
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