Life Among the Dead (Book 4): The End Read Online Free Page A

optimistic puppy love is euthanized, put to sleep before it can grow into something else. Bottle in hand, Killer B drops enough cash on the bar to cover it before retreating back to her room as fast as possible.
    Mr. Breckinridge slumps on his stool beside Santa, across from the smug looking bartender. He wishes he could just play it off, say something to assure these men that he’s already over it, but he can’t. All he can do is pay his tab and make for his room. If that was the real Santa , he thinks, trying to find the lighter side of his heartache. And he was able to see all the naughty stuff Rocky and I did. I’m getting a lump of coal this year for sure .

6
     
    “Excuse me, Mr…” Gil Price realizes he never caught the name of the scary man on the floor of the suite he once held an illicit affair in. “Mr. Mob Guy?”
    He feels for a pulse but isn’t able to find one, leaving him to wonder, “Is this good or bad?” The guy is dead. He can leave with the sample and his money. One of his biggest concerns has been how to explain the substantial missing sum should his wife notice. “That’s one problem solved,” he says over the corpse.
    He has people , Price remembers the goons. People that will miss him, and retaliate . He sits on the bed at a loss as to what to do now, he just knows he must do something. I should just take the sample and leave the cash. That was the deal. He has a golden opportunity to help millions, and make millions. Why not do it for free, take the cash so Ramona doesn’t notice . His wife’s name clinches it, with this guy no longer able to send candid pictures he knows he’s safe. That just leaves the matter of the body.
    The man was shady, he can’t imagine that it might be beyond his ilk to skip out on his men, leave the country without paying them for services rendered. He had dismissed them for the night, said he’d call if he needed them.
    The man’s luggage backs up his claim that he planned to leave the country, a massive rolling case. Price hefts it onto the bed and unzips it. The expensively tailored suits that were packed so neatly are crammed into laundry bags provided by the hotel. Everything is removed; socks, underwear, toiletries, a pistol with a silencer, and a few bottles of prescription medicine. Everything goes into the plastic bags except for the gun in case he runs into the goons and a shaving kit that just won’t fit. Now all he has to do is stuff the heavyset man into his own suitcase.
    The limp corpse unwittingly resists Price’s efforts, flopping opposite to where he is placed. It takes a few attempts to get the man’s torso stuffed into the bottom of the case. It’s a snug fit, his head is craned at a painful looking angle into the corner. The arms and legs are the next problem, the man is so girthy Price can’t get them all in at the same time. When Price tries to get all the limbs in one pops out, he must juggle and stuff them until he gets the cover closed, even with all his weight on the suitcase he can’t get the zipper to go around.
    Gil Price must step back to think this through. He feels hot under the collar and frustrated, sweat beads on his forehead. “If only his arms and legs had a few extra bends.” It dawns on him what he’ll have to do.
    The elbows and knees will have to bend differently. Price holds the mobster’s leg to his chest and braces himself for what he’s about to do. He won’t feel it , the desperate man tells himself before forcing the joint against its normal range of motion.
    A chill runs through Gil’s body after hearing the sickening crack and feeling the tendons give. “Oh, my god!” he exclaims yet knows it isn’t over yet. The way he plans on packing he needs to be able to stuff the man’s legs alongside him, and the arms will have to be laced on top of his chest as neatly as possible.
    After three more grisly snaps Price is able to get the zipper to go around the bag. He checks the room for any items