pliant. It felt empty.
I’d seen a lot of corpses for a seventeen-year-old. Of course, some of them had gotten up and tried to eat me, but that was beside the point. Holly’s body was different somehow. Sometimes I got so busy geeking out that I forgot we were talking about people. This time I couldn’t forget. I looked at those ridiculous elf ears and I thought about my brother and how I would feel if he was the one stuffed into a bag in the cold room. My stomach lurched.
“Get a hold of yourself, Grable,” I muttered.
I needed a breath of fresh air and maybe a good slap in the face. Sympathy was a good thing, but I told myself I could sympathize all I wanted after I got my brain in gear and put the bad guy down. Still, somehow I couldn’t make myself put Holly back into that drawer, all alone in the dark. I wasn’t usually the hyperemotional type; I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me all of a sudden.
Finally, I made myself open the other storage container. This was the first murder victim, the one the police thought Dr. Burr had killed. He was young too, maybe midtwenties, with a high forehead and wide-set eyes. Something about his face looked vaguely familiar, and I stared at him for almost five minutes before I realized.
If you added a pair of elf ears and some fancy scrollwork around the eyes, he and Holly could be related. I looked back and forth between the two faces. Brother and sister, maybe? But the guy hadn’t had any identification, and no one had reported a missing person yet.
I opened his bag further, searching for what had killed him. That cop had said the body was really mangled. Dr. Burr couldn’t be under suspicion for both murders, since he’d been jailed when Holly was killed. If I could draw a parallel between the cases, it might clear his name. But there wasn’t a single mark on the John Doe.
The door behind me opened. Just in time too. I needed a second opinion.
“Hey, Sebastian.” I didn’t even bother turning around. “Come take a look at this. I think maybe these two corpses are related.”
He didn’t say anything. I was really starting to lose my patience when I saw the look on his face. Complete horror.
“Holly?” he whimpered. “Oh, crap.”
He ran out of the room. As the door swung closed behind him, I heard it. Puke makes a very distinctive sound when it splatters on floor tile.
*
It took me about fifteen minutes to put the bodies back after I took all my pictures, and Sebastian still hadn’t come back yet. After the pukearama, he’d locked himself in the men’s room across the hall. His vomit still decorated the floor in the main room; I sure hope he didn’t think I was going to clean it up. That wasn’t in my job description.
By then, I didn’t have much time left before I had to leave to catch the bus, and I wasn’t going to be late to school again. Mr. Dryer would probably force me into a life of indentured servitude in the cafeteria.
But before I left, Sebastian had some explaining to do. I found it mighty coincidental that he’d seemed to recognize the victim. Too coincidental, in fact. So I squared my shoulders, stepped over the puke, and prepared to extract the truth from him. By force, if necessary.
I tried the knob first, but the bathroom door was still locked. So I knocked.
“What?” he asked, his voice muffled.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. But I think I ate something that didn’t agree with me.”
“Are you sure?” I frowned. “I thought you recognized the victim.”
“I think it was the Hot Pocket I had for breakfast.”
“I swear you called her Holly. That’s her name.” There was a long pause. “Sebastian?” I prompted.
“Well, you were wrong. I said ‘Holy crap.’ ”
“But—”
“Or maybe I did say her name. I probably read it off the chart. Now leave me alone.”
Then he started making retching noises, but I was pretty sure he was acting. I would have called him on it, but I had to
I’d seen a lot of corpses for a seventeen-year-old. Of course, some of them had gotten up and tried to eat me, but that was beside the point. Holly’s body was different somehow. Sometimes I got so busy geeking out that I forgot we were talking about people. This time I couldn’t forget. I looked at those ridiculous elf ears and I thought about my brother and how I would feel if he was the one stuffed into a bag in the cold room. My stomach lurched.
“Get a hold of yourself, Grable,” I muttered.
I needed a breath of fresh air and maybe a good slap in the face. Sympathy was a good thing, but I told myself I could sympathize all I wanted after I got my brain in gear and put the bad guy down. Still, somehow I couldn’t make myself put Holly back into that drawer, all alone in the dark. I wasn’t usually the hyperemotional type; I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me all of a sudden.
Finally, I made myself open the other storage container. This was the first murder victim, the one the police thought Dr. Burr had killed. He was young too, maybe midtwenties, with a high forehead and wide-set eyes. Something about his face looked vaguely familiar, and I stared at him for almost five minutes before I realized.
If you added a pair of elf ears and some fancy scrollwork around the eyes, he and Holly could be related. I looked back and forth between the two faces. Brother and sister, maybe? But the guy hadn’t had any identification, and no one had reported a missing person yet.
I opened his bag further, searching for what had killed him. That cop had said the body was really mangled. Dr. Burr couldn’t be under suspicion for both murders, since he’d been jailed when Holly was killed. If I could draw a parallel between the cases, it might clear his name. But there wasn’t a single mark on the John Doe.
The door behind me opened. Just in time too. I needed a second opinion.
“Hey, Sebastian.” I didn’t even bother turning around. “Come take a look at this. I think maybe these two corpses are related.”
He didn’t say anything. I was really starting to lose my patience when I saw the look on his face. Complete horror.
“Holly?” he whimpered. “Oh, crap.”
He ran out of the room. As the door swung closed behind him, I heard it. Puke makes a very distinctive sound when it splatters on floor tile.
*
It took me about fifteen minutes to put the bodies back after I took all my pictures, and Sebastian still hadn’t come back yet. After the pukearama, he’d locked himself in the men’s room across the hall. His vomit still decorated the floor in the main room; I sure hope he didn’t think I was going to clean it up. That wasn’t in my job description.
By then, I didn’t have much time left before I had to leave to catch the bus, and I wasn’t going to be late to school again. Mr. Dryer would probably force me into a life of indentured servitude in the cafeteria.
But before I left, Sebastian had some explaining to do. I found it mighty coincidental that he’d seemed to recognize the victim. Too coincidental, in fact. So I squared my shoulders, stepped over the puke, and prepared to extract the truth from him. By force, if necessary.
I tried the knob first, but the bathroom door was still locked. So I knocked.
“What?” he asked, his voice muffled.
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. But I think I ate something that didn’t agree with me.”
“Are you sure?” I frowned. “I thought you recognized the victim.”
“I think it was the Hot Pocket I had for breakfast.”
“I swear you called her Holly. That’s her name.” There was a long pause. “Sebastian?” I prompted.
“Well, you were wrong. I said ‘Holy crap.’ ”
“But—”
“Or maybe I did say her name. I probably read it off the chart. Now leave me alone.”
Then he started making retching noises, but I was pretty sure he was acting. I would have called him on it, but I had to
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