Read Online More Than Life Itself by Joseph Nassise - Free Book Online
Authors: Joseph Nassise
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bad news.
For just an instant, Sam was overcome with the desire to tell him, to let him in on the secret. The boy doesn't have to die, he could imagine himself saying, there's this ritual, see, and …
Reality reasserted itself before he could do anything so colossally stupid. Instead, he whispered a heartfelt "I'm sorry" to the other man and turned away, unable and unwilling to voice the truth. The priest was still standing there, staring off down the darkened hospital corridor when Sam felt the door to his daughter's room close at his back, sealing away the grief.
He pulled the thermos from his pack and moved toward his sleeping child.
His daughter wasn't going to end up like that boy, not while he had something to say about it …
***
The third victim was a homeless man he caught sleeping out behind the wreckage of the old train station on Bellington. The man bled to death from his slashed throat with barely a protest, his eyes wide as Sam caught some of his fountaining blood in a carefully placed plastic bucket.
The next morning, Jessica's white blood cell count was back to where it was supposed to be, and the jaundiced look of her body had vanished as swiftly as if it had never been.
Victim number four collapsed from an overdose of horse tranquiliser, administered when Sam stabbed him in the shoulder as the man hunted through the dumpster behind the Jolly Roger Bar and Grill. The paralysing drug stopped the man's heart in seconds, and all Sam had to do was push him into his waiting trunk and drive away, with no-one the wiser.
The days began to blend together, a kaleidoscope of images that sucked at Sam's sanity and tore at his soul, but there was Jessica, always Jessica, to think of. That kept him going when the guilt began to loom. Home from the hospital to dispose of the body, snatch a few hours' sleep, then back out of the door on the hunt for the next donor, the killing cycle starting all over again.
Victim number five offered to blow him in the back seat of his car for twenty bucks. He countered with an offer of a decent meal and a night's romp in his bed. Back at his house, she discovered she'd gotten more than she'd bargained for as he held her beneath the water in the bathtub and waited for her to drown. Sam felt a twinge of horror a short time later when he cut into her pretty blonde head with his band saw, but the feeling didn't last for long and, besides, the saw was the only tool powerful enough to take off the top of her skull, exposing her brain.
By mid-morning on Thursday, Jessica's headaches were gone and her demeanour was lively and spirited once more.
The doctors, of course, continued to praise their wonderful new drug cocktail, and patted themselves on the back for their brilliance. With her ability to eat and her appetite restored, they removed her IV and brought her medication in pill form once a day, which only made it easier for Sam to swap it for some harmless dietary pills instead. After all this time, the doctors trusted him to be certain Jessica took her medicine. They knew he wouldn't do anything to interfere with the marvellous success they were having with their current treatment.
Thursday evening's victim, number six, turned out to be the easiest so far. Running the elderly wino down in the dark alley with his car was child's play. Once back in his basement, he removed the man's left leg at the knee with the judicious application of a pair of industrial shears. Cleaning the flesh from the bone was not difficult, but it certainly was messy. He washed and then pulverised the bone with a hammer, breaking it into smaller pieces. These he ground up by hand in a mortar and pestle. The resulting heap of white powder mixed up in the blender quite nicely.
By Friday morning, Jessica's last remaining problem was confined to her liver. The doctors were concerned. The liver was failing, that was clear, and Jessica couldn't live without it. To make matters worse, they were afraid to attempt
For just an instant, Sam was overcome with the desire to tell him, to let him in on the secret. The boy doesn't have to die, he could imagine himself saying, there's this ritual, see, and …
Reality reasserted itself before he could do anything so colossally stupid. Instead, he whispered a heartfelt "I'm sorry" to the other man and turned away, unable and unwilling to voice the truth. The priest was still standing there, staring off down the darkened hospital corridor when Sam felt the door to his daughter's room close at his back, sealing away the grief.
He pulled the thermos from his pack and moved toward his sleeping child.
His daughter wasn't going to end up like that boy, not while he had something to say about it …
***
The third victim was a homeless man he caught sleeping out behind the wreckage of the old train station on Bellington. The man bled to death from his slashed throat with barely a protest, his eyes wide as Sam caught some of his fountaining blood in a carefully placed plastic bucket.
The next morning, Jessica's white blood cell count was back to where it was supposed to be, and the jaundiced look of her body had vanished as swiftly as if it had never been.
Victim number four collapsed from an overdose of horse tranquiliser, administered when Sam stabbed him in the shoulder as the man hunted through the dumpster behind the Jolly Roger Bar and Grill. The paralysing drug stopped the man's heart in seconds, and all Sam had to do was push him into his waiting trunk and drive away, with no-one the wiser.
The days began to blend together, a kaleidoscope of images that sucked at Sam's sanity and tore at his soul, but there was Jessica, always Jessica, to think of. That kept him going when the guilt began to loom. Home from the hospital to dispose of the body, snatch a few hours' sleep, then back out of the door on the hunt for the next donor, the killing cycle starting all over again.
Victim number five offered to blow him in the back seat of his car for twenty bucks. He countered with an offer of a decent meal and a night's romp in his bed. Back at his house, she discovered she'd gotten more than she'd bargained for as he held her beneath the water in the bathtub and waited for her to drown. Sam felt a twinge of horror a short time later when he cut into her pretty blonde head with his band saw, but the feeling didn't last for long and, besides, the saw was the only tool powerful enough to take off the top of her skull, exposing her brain.
By mid-morning on Thursday, Jessica's headaches were gone and her demeanour was lively and spirited once more.
The doctors, of course, continued to praise their wonderful new drug cocktail, and patted themselves on the back for their brilliance. With her ability to eat and her appetite restored, they removed her IV and brought her medication in pill form once a day, which only made it easier for Sam to swap it for some harmless dietary pills instead. After all this time, the doctors trusted him to be certain Jessica took her medicine. They knew he wouldn't do anything to interfere with the marvellous success they were having with their current treatment.
Thursday evening's victim, number six, turned out to be the easiest so far. Running the elderly wino down in the dark alley with his car was child's play. Once back in his basement, he removed the man's left leg at the knee with the judicious application of a pair of industrial shears. Cleaning the flesh from the bone was not difficult, but it certainly was messy. He washed and then pulverised the bone with a hammer, breaking it into smaller pieces. These he ground up by hand in a mortar and pestle. The resulting heap of white powder mixed up in the blender quite nicely.
By Friday morning, Jessica's last remaining problem was confined to her liver. The doctors were concerned. The liver was failing, that was clear, and Jessica couldn't live without it. To make matters worse, they were afraid to attempt
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