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Inthrallis – Chapter 51

August 21, 2015

If the blue meanies are going to get me they’d better get off their asses and do something.

Moller decided to leave his wallet and pager but took the key and slipped it in his sock. He jiggled his foot and felt it slide down toward his shoe. He looked in the mirror, ruffled his hair a little, and slipped on the used t-shirt he had just purchased and started to get out of the car.

He saw the cruiser slowly making a corner and decided to wait. He ducked a bit and watched as it drove slowly by the parking lot and made another corner a few blocks down.

Moller could feel eyes on him before he could even see who might be looking at him. This parking lot next to a closed discount store was where sup_dawg had told him to go, he had triple-checked the address he got on the pager.

“Miguel?”

The woman’s eyes were bloodshot and, though it was dark, he suspected the parts that weren’t veiny red were yellow. Most likely hepatitis.

She didn’t really seem to see him at all. A young, gangly man pointed to the far end where Moller could barely make out a few figures sitting together in a poorly lit area. He nodded and walked in the direction of the dark.

Moller tried to walk slowly to give his eyes time to adjust. He could hear an argument in Spanish coming from inside a tent, if you could call it that. It looked like several sheets draped over a cable, one end of which was tied to a fencepost, the other one of those angled metal signposts sticking up out of a concrete base. There was no sign attached.

He heard one of the men say something quietly as he got closer. He felt the eyes again, but this time he could almost make out the people who had them.

The men, there were six, remained silent. “Miguel?”

“Yeah, I’m Miguel. You the guy they said was coming to see G?”

“Yep.”

In reality, Moller had no idea what was going on. Details from his hacker source had been scarce. But he did say that they’d be expecting him and that he would want to talk to them.

Two of the men got up when Miguel did. They walked still further back into the corner of the parking lot. The only light to speak of back there came from a lone light extending out of the back of a six- or seven-story apartment building. Moller could see moths swirling around it. It was high enough that it didn’t really provide much help.

Moller hoped this wasn’t some kind of trap.

The men moved some cardboard boxes and revealed a blue plastic sheet under which was a shape that could only be human. Miguel looked at Moller for a second, then reached down and pulled the plastic back a bit.

Moller squinted. He couldn’t make much out.

Miguel produced a flashlight from somewhere and flicked it on. Moller almost wished that he hadn’t.

The body was a male, probably in his late thirties. There wasn’t much else to tell. The black hair indicated that he was probably Hispanic, but Moller had no idea what the man had looked like, so badly mangled was the face.

There was obvious blunt force around the eyes and the nose, but much of the rest of the man’s face was lacerated as if he’d lost a fight with a rotary saw. Only a small patch over his left eye seemed untouched.

“What happened?”

Miguel switched the flashlight off and replaced the plastic. As he walked away, he lightly touched Moller’s arm for him to follow. The other men replaced the boxes as Miguel began to speak.

“They come every two to six weeks. Take one of us in the night. Armed men, five of them. Load one of us up and a few days later drop the body at one of the corners or in the area.

“Boston P.D…they came the first few times it happened, said they’d look into it. They take the bodies. We don’t hear from them again. Always a different cop, never seems to know what’s going on.

“Our friend said you could help.”

Moller reflected quietly for a moment. Miguel pulled out a pack, lit two, and offered one to Moller.

Moller took it and sucked in a long drag. He let it out through his nose.

“Sure. I’ll see what I can do.”

So this is what Martin gets up to in his spare time. Guess this wasn’t a wasted trip after all.

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From → Inthrallis, Novels

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