What Waits Through the Trapdoor

Home > Horror > What Waits Through the Trapdoor > Page 7
What Waits Through the Trapdoor Page 7

by Jude Michael Connors


  **

  Two hours later Assistant Medical Examiner Shane Burrows was preparing to start his examinations of Rebecca Currier and Benjamin Mabry. Before he was able to walk into the examination room just off the back of the office his superior, Ana Chavez, entered through the front door.

  “What are you doing here, Ana?” he asked. “Not that I mind seeing you, but I work the night shift.”

  “I was called in,” she replied. “This is a special case.”

  “Really? Not the way Pennington says.” Shane chuckled and then told Ana how Detective Pennington, the lead investigator, had said this was an open and shut case. “Yeah, Pennington says he’s got it all figured out. He came in when they brought the bodies and said that the autopsies are just a technicality.”

  “Is that so?” Looking past Shane at the double doors leading to the examination room, Ana gulped nervously.

  “You know how cops are,” he continued oblivious to his superior’s apprehension. “They get a theory and suddenly it’s irrefutable fact. They don’t need evidence. They have their guts telling them what happened.

  “So Pennington tells me that Ben Mabry was a serial killer that ate his victims,” Shane continued. “He also said that Rebecca Currier had a severe allergy to nuts—he doesn’t know this for a fact but he holds it as such. He thinks that Mabry ate a peanut butter sandwich or had some mixed nuts before he attacked the girl and her boyfriend. When Mabry bit the girl, she went into anaphylactic shock—Pennington called it anna-phallic shock, by the way—and died in her boyfriend’s arms.”

  “I understand Mabry was shot multiple times,” Ana said.

  “Yeah, Pennington’s guts have got that bit figured out as well,” he chuckled. “He says that a robber just happened to hit that place tonight. The guy walked in on Mabry taking a bite out of the girl, freaked out, and shot Mabry before he torched the place.

  “Can you believe the arrogance of Pennington?” Shane complained. “He doesn’t even wait for Mabry’s stomach contents to be examined or to see if Currier did in fact have a nut allergy before he tries to close the case.”

  “Well, Pennington is a veteran. He’s seen a lot.”

  “C’mon, Ana, you don’t think he can skip physical evidence and come to an unsubstantiated conclusion?”

  “Of course not.” She shot another uneasy glance to the double doors. “Just don’t be upset if it turns out that he’s right.”

  He opened his mouth to counter. Ana cut him off. “Why don’t you head downstairs and examine the other corpses.”

  Shane balked. “But… but I’ve got Canales and Lovett on that.”

  “Listen, Shane, I know that’s a job for one of the newbies, but like I said this is a special case,” she explained. “I need someone with experience to look over the bodies for any clues.”

  “Any clues?” he said. His offense at told to do such a lowly job was clear in his tone. “The bodies are burned too badly to get any useful evidence. I mean, I might be able to find a bite wound if I’m extremely lucky. But with Mabry’s head and jaw shot to shit, I have nothing to compare it to. Besides it’ll take the rest of the night just counting and matching body parts together.”

  “Shane, don’t make this an order,” she warned leveling her eyes on him.

  With a frown creasing his face, Shane marched out of the office and turned down the hall toward the elevators.

  A loud thud came from within the examination room. Ana’s head whipped toward the double doors and she gulped. It had sounded like something heavy had fallen from one of the tables and hit the floor. The Medical Examiner stared at the doors and tiny beads of sweat blossomed on her brow. She knew there was nothing in there—nothing alive at least. A low, soft groan sounded somewhere in the examination room.

  Ana gave a shout and almost jumped out of her skin when the door from the hallway opened and two men walked in.

  “Are you alright, Ana,” Father Anthony asked as he and a stern looking Reidy entered the office.

  “Oh, thank God you’re here.”

  “Thank you for this,” the pockmarked priest said. “I hope it isn’t too much of a problem for you.”

  “No, I’ll just doctor the results so that it confirms the lead detective’s theory,” she said, wiping the sweat from her face. “I’ll confirm Mabry did have human remains in his stomach and that the young woman died of an allergic reaction from the bacteria in Mabry’s mouth.”

  A wet tearing noise came from the room. It reminded Ana of a nature documentary she had watched recently where a lioness stripped the meat from a zebra carcass. A chill overcame her. “I’ll spend the night… fixing the damage.”

  “I can call in Aiden Elk of Elk Family Funeral Homes to help if you need it,” Tony said. “He has… graciously donated his services for the young lady’s funeral expenses.”

  Another heavy thump came from the other room. Then a loud inhuman growl filled the air. Ana turned away from the double doors and looked to the men for help.

  “Don’t worry,” Anthony walked up to the woman and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll handle this part.”

  Reidy, whose face was twisted and angry, said firmly, “I will handle it.”

  “Are you sure, Tom,” Tony asked while Reidy pulled a Glock .45 from his pocket. Reidy didn’t answer. Instead, he screwed a silencer on the end of the pistol. Without looking at either Tony or Ana, Reidy marched into the examination room.

  The thing that used to be Becca was leaning over Ben’s remains. The zombie with purple hair ripped off a long strip of the dead man’s thigh with her teeth. She gnawed and chewed on the hunk of flesh with cold blood dribbling down her chin.

  Reidy’s frown and angry expression softened and mutated into sorrow. He could hear his wife’s voice, the same voice that always spoke in his head whenever he felt guilty, mocking him. “There’s another person you couldn’t save, Tom.”

  The zombie turned and faced Reidy. Dead eyes widened at the sight of fresh meat. She opened her mouth and snarled. The cold strip of flesh fell from her gaping maw and she shambled toward Reidy.

  He sighed and muttered, “I really hate my job sometimes.”

  Raising the pistol, he aimed it right between Becca’s lifeless eyes.

  “Sorry, kid.”

  He squeezed the trigger.

  The End

  About the Author

  Jude, who is not named after the song contrary to popular belief, has lived in the beautiful state of Arizona since he was a boy… which was a long time ago. He has held such varied jobs as a ticket taker all the way up to an assistant manager at the same theater. He’s held a bevy of other jobs to boot. Most recently, he has abused the concept of nepotism by working at his brother’s restaurant in Tucson.

  Other works from

  Jude Michael Connors

  The Tailor’s Patchwork

  The Map, the Star and the Monster (Book One of the Reidy Chronicles)

  Coming Soon

  The Best under the Flesh (Book Two of the Reidy Chronicles)

 


‹ Prev