Blood Wolf’s Path - стр. 14
“What the hell are you doing?!” Cherry yelled.
I didn’t care—the feds had my back. Plus, I wanted to know for sure whether the rounds in my gun were blanks or live.
I ran up to the bleeding guy. “Police! Why’d you kill your classmates, you bastard?” I shouted.
Back at the precinct, Goatface wasn’t pleased.
“What the hell are you doing, Jerry? I’d rather you screwed me than pulled that stunt,” he snarled.
“It’s just a couple of scratches. He lunged at a passerby—I was justified in using my weapon,” I said.
“It’s true,” Cherry added.
She was starting to grow on me. She must have realized she’d be working with me for a while and wanted to earn my goodwill.
“He knifed three people on the beach. We’ll go question him at the hospital,” I said.
“You’re not going anywhere. It’s a cold case now—Phil Sanchez is dead. You didn’t just hit his leg—you hit his liver. Hospital just called…” Goatface wasn’t doing his victory dance.
“Goddammit…” I spat on the floor.
“Watch where you spit, asshole! The judge signed a search warrant for his house. The team’s on their way. You stay here. Cherry goes alone. Sit tight and keep quiet. Now get out,” Goatface waved me off like he was airing out the room.
At five p.m., Cherry called. In Phil’s trash can they’d found bloody clothes. In his dishwasher—a bloody knife. There were also faint blood traces on his car seat and steering wheel. Everything pointed to Phil being the killer. Forensics would confirm it, but the case was essentially closed.
Five minutes later my boss came in cheerful, carrying a bottle of cheap whiskey and two dirty glasses.
“Jerry Harrison, you can’t drink,” I heard a male voice in my earpiece—it wasn’t my usual operator.
“Why not? I can…” I muttered.
Wait… how the hell did they know? Whatever.
“You can’t—it’s contraindicated for you. You’re infected,” the voice said.
“I’ll just have a sip,” I whispered.
“Who you talking to?” Goatface asked, pouring the piss-colored whiskey into the glasses.
“Just my earpiece,” I waved him off.
“Anyway, nice job with that stunt at the college. Cherry told me about it,” Goatface said, sniffing his glass.
“Oh, that Cherry! She’s got a nice ass,” I said, lifting the glass.
“Don’t drink—it’s dangerous!” came through my earpiece.
I downed it in one go and poured another. Screw it all.
“That’s enough—we’ve got work to do,” Goatface said, taking the bottle and glasses away.
As soon as he left, I felt nauseous. I ran to the bathroom, and as I bent over the toilet, a stream of vomit came out. When I looked down, I froze—in the water floated chunks of flesh. Like I’d been eating human meat.
“Jerry Harrison, it’s okay,” came in my ear.
“You filthy bastards… okay?! Where did this come from… damn it! You’ve been feeding me human meat, haven’t you?!” I shouted.
“Jerry, it’s Cocksucker,” came the familiar voice. “I’m parked outside your work. Come out, I’ll take you home and explain everything. My guys will bring your truck to your house tonight.”
“Fine. But this time, don’t hide anything. No more surprises.”
Cocksucker waited in his pickup. I opened the passenger door, and without turning his head, he said,
“Get in, Jerry. I’ll tell you everything on the way to your place.”
“Go ahead,” I said, closing the door.