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She froze.
Held her breath.
No one yelled.
There was no sound of pounding feet hitting the ground.
She had seconds.
Gloved hands grasping the edge of the flat rock, she attempted to look the victim over. They were inches apart. She tried until the coppery tang of blood hit her, painting itself on her tongue so strong she bent forward and gagged. “Fuck.” Pulling her cowl over her nose and mouth, she tried again.
The pale skin of his elbow was discolored. Early stages of livor mortis had set in, gravity pooling his blood into the lowest spots on his body.
Leaning close, she could almost feel the unnatural cold emanating from him. He looked exactly like the other men. Dark streams poured from his face where his tongue and eyes had once been. The trails had dried down his chest, meeting a large dark spot of blood where he previously had a penis. It was nothing but a jagged dark spot now between his legs.
Breathing heavily through the material, she tried to concentrate on the details she could see. His ankles, tucked under his butt held thin ligature marks. Checking his wrists she found the same.
She squinted as she examined his chest, his arm hair touching the ridge of her nose. It was faint from her position but an X-shaped shadow settled just left of center on his chest. If an autopsy was done, they’d find the vital organ melted to nothing, like the other men.
The two-inch wide strip of material around his neck differentiated him though. She recognized the silver square cutting into the side of his skin. It was a belt buckle. None of the other victims were left with items.
He’d been emasculated, silenced, blinded, and choked with a thick strap of leather. This wasn’t just a murder, it was a transgression beyond taking his life.
It was barbarous and personal.
“Oh, bullshit!” Deputy Gunson’s voice rattled the horror that choked her. Looking through the gap between the rock and the victim’s gut, she saw the flame of a lighter illuminate a face. Deputy Stocker laughed loud and hearty. It sounded closer than before.
Fuck.
She had to get back behind the tree line. Back to Vera.
A lightning bolt of fear hit her, stopping her from lunging forward.
Vera would be pissed. Furious, that she risked their investigation. Maybe just a tiny bit mad that she risked herself, she thought with a mix of dread and devious delight.
The footsteps were closer.
Fuck it. She’d take Vera’s wrath over the deputies.
It was now or never.
She looked at the tree line and then back at where their cigarettes glowed like eyes.
Her heart ricocheted into her throat.
One.
Two.
Three.
Like an explosion she burst into a run, unable to keep as low as before as her lungs burned from the effort of gulping down glacial air.
Someone coughed. Close. Too close.
She was nearly there, the branches of the overgrown trees seemed to open up. A single leap and she dove between them and landed with a thud.
Lying there for a moment, she froze. In pain and to listen.
