and voila - one perfectly healthy human kidney came free in his hands.
He tossed it into the Tupperware container at his side.
Laying the knife down, he stood and removed his shirt and pants. They were covered in blood, and getting rid of them would be easier than trying to clean them. He tossed them onto the corpse and changed into a pair of shirts and a T-shirt. Rolling everything up inside the plastic, he tied it securely at each end. He cleaned the surgical tool in the bucket of warm water he'd brought downstairs for just that purpose and replaced it in its case.
Since it was still early, just after midnight, he made the decision to dispose of the body now, so he wouldn't have to do it later. The process of digging the grave, dumping the body, covering it with quicklime and then filling in the hole went much faster this time around. He completed the job just before 2.00 am.
Returning to the kitchen, he went through the ritual of preparing the "protein" shake, just as he had the night before. While he was waiting for it to mix together, he idly flipped through the contents of the kid's wallet. A Tennessee driver's licence in the name of Tony Romanto, age 22, confirmed his earlier guess regarding the boy's origins. The license had expired two years earlier, however, which meant the residency information was long out of date. Without a permanent address, it would have been impossible to renew the document, which meant once again that Lady Luck had been smiling on Sam when he'd come around that curve and seen the younger man by the side of the road. Aside from the licence, there wasn't much else of interest inside the wallet; a few scraps of paper, some long-faded receipts, a coupon for a free small fries from McDonald's, and an unused condom that looked long past its prime. The flimsy detritus of an otherwise uneventful life. Seeing it all laid out on the table before him convinced Sam he'd made the right choice.
At least this way, the boy's life had been worth something.
After throwing the wallet in the trash and disposing of the licence in the paper shredder by his desk, Sam headed upstairs to shower and change into a clean set of clothes. Then it was back to the hospital for round two of Jessica's miracle cure.
He was just steps away from her room when a voice spoke out of the darkness.
"Mr Dalton?"
Heart thrumming in his chest, Sam turned toward the sound.
It was the priest again. The one he'd confronted the day before. He was standing in the doorway of the room across the hall, his face half hidden in shadow. Sam could make out the whiteness of his clerical collar against the darkness of his shirt.
The man went on, without waiting for an answer. "I wanted to apologise. For my behaviour yesterday. It was rude and disrespectful, which I assure you wasn't my intent."
Sam shook himself, cast aside the fear of discovery that had momentarily paralysed him. Get rid of him, he thought. Say anything, just get rid of him. "No…no problem, Father. I should be the one apologising." He tried a smile, hoping that it would be accepted for sincerity. "I'm afraid you caught me at my worst."
"It happens to the best of us," the man replied, responding with a tired smile of his own. He looked off down the hall, suddenly lost in thought.
The change in the priest's demeanour from the day before caught Sam's attention. This wasn't the same confident individual that had confronted him in the hallway. This was a man burdened by grief, by doubt. Sam was all too familiar with the symptoms not to notice. And since it was after three in the morning …
The words left his mouth before he was even aware he intended to speak.
"Did something happen, Father? Is the boy okay?"
The other man started from his daze, his head coming up slowly and his eyes focusing on Sam's own. "The boy? Oh, you mean Arthur." He fumbled for words. "The cancer … spreading … not much time left." One hand waved in the air unnoticed, as if fending off the
He tossed it into the Tupperware container at his side.
Laying the knife down, he stood and removed his shirt and pants. They were covered in blood, and getting rid of them would be easier than trying to clean them. He tossed them onto the corpse and changed into a pair of shirts and a T-shirt. Rolling everything up inside the plastic, he tied it securely at each end. He cleaned the surgical tool in the bucket of warm water he'd brought downstairs for just that purpose and replaced it in its case.
Since it was still early, just after midnight, he made the decision to dispose of the body now, so he wouldn't have to do it later. The process of digging the grave, dumping the body, covering it with quicklime and then filling in the hole went much faster this time around. He completed the job just before 2.00 am.
Returning to the kitchen, he went through the ritual of preparing the "protein" shake, just as he had the night before. While he was waiting for it to mix together, he idly flipped through the contents of the kid's wallet. A Tennessee driver's licence in the name of Tony Romanto, age 22, confirmed his earlier guess regarding the boy's origins. The license had expired two years earlier, however, which meant the residency information was long out of date. Without a permanent address, it would have been impossible to renew the document, which meant once again that Lady Luck had been smiling on Sam when he'd come around that curve and seen the younger man by the side of the road. Aside from the licence, there wasn't much else of interest inside the wallet; a few scraps of paper, some long-faded receipts, a coupon for a free small fries from McDonald's, and an unused condom that looked long past its prime. The flimsy detritus of an otherwise uneventful life. Seeing it all laid out on the table before him convinced Sam he'd made the right choice.
At least this way, the boy's life had been worth something.
After throwing the wallet in the trash and disposing of the licence in the paper shredder by his desk, Sam headed upstairs to shower and change into a clean set of clothes. Then it was back to the hospital for round two of Jessica's miracle cure.
He was just steps away from her room when a voice spoke out of the darkness.
"Mr Dalton?"
Heart thrumming in his chest, Sam turned toward the sound.
It was the priest again. The one he'd confronted the day before. He was standing in the doorway of the room across the hall, his face half hidden in shadow. Sam could make out the whiteness of his clerical collar against the darkness of his shirt.
The man went on, without waiting for an answer. "I wanted to apologise. For my behaviour yesterday. It was rude and disrespectful, which I assure you wasn't my intent."
Sam shook himself, cast aside the fear of discovery that had momentarily paralysed him. Get rid of him, he thought. Say anything, just get rid of him. "No…no problem, Father. I should be the one apologising." He tried a smile, hoping that it would be accepted for sincerity. "I'm afraid you caught me at my worst."
"It happens to the best of us," the man replied, responding with a tired smile of his own. He looked off down the hall, suddenly lost in thought.
The change in the priest's demeanour from the day before caught Sam's attention. This wasn't the same confident individual that had confronted him in the hallway. This was a man burdened by grief, by doubt. Sam was all too familiar with the symptoms not to notice. And since it was after three in the morning …
The words left his mouth before he was even aware he intended to speak.
"Did something happen, Father? Is the boy okay?"
The other man started from his daze, his head coming up slowly and his eyes focusing on Sam's own. "The boy? Oh, you mean Arthur." He fumbled for words. "The cancer … spreading … not much time left." One hand waved in the air unnoticed, as if fending off the
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