Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Most of the businesses in the area had a similar look. They’d all gone under because of the crime that had overtaken the neighborhood and were now just a heartbreaking reminder of the way things used to be. I took a quick glance around, checking for any onlookers, then pulled around to the back and parked to survey the damage.
As soon as we exited the van, the sound of approaching police sirens caused us all to stop dead in our tracks. I held my breath as I listened to them getting even closer. Relief washed over me when they sped past the old convenience store and continued further down the road.
Hopper walked up next to me and shook his head as he looked down at one of the blood-soaked bodies that was lying just a few feet away. “Not exactly the ideal place for an outside cleanup.”
“No, it isn’t.” I glanced up at the dark sky, and just as I expected, there were no stars. “But the rain coming in should make it easier.”
He nodded, then followed me to the rear of the van. We’d just started gathering our things when Grinder came over to us. He extended his hand to mine as he said, “Hey, man. Appreciate you boys coming out like this.”
“No problem.” I shook his hand as I told him, “Glad to be of service.”
You’d think a man like me would be intimidated by a man like Grinder, especially under the present circumstances. I was witnessing firsthand the death and destruction he and his boys could bring, but I wasn’t—not in the least. In fact, it was the other way around.
Grinder knew it took a special kind of man to do the work I do—to go to the extent I was willing to go, and like most of my clients, he always seemed to be a bit on edge.
But don’t get me wrong.
His unease with me didn’t make him any less formidable. He was a strong leader who never backed down from a fight, and he usually won. When he spoke, people listened, especially his brothers. They’d all seen firsthand how vicious the man could be, but they stuck by him. The Forgotten knew he was a man of his word, and in an MC like theirs, your word is your bond.
I lowered my duffle bag to the ground, then took out my hazmat suit.
As I put it on, I quickly surveyed the area.
There were five deceased--all gunshot victims who were lying in pools of their own blood. Two were on the gravel, while the other three were on pavement. And their blood was splattered on the side of the building, the dumpster, and one of the vehicles scattered around the lot.
As I looked at the scene before me, my OCD kicked in, and I started breaking things down—step by step.
It seemed pretty routine.
First, we’d put on our gear. We each wore a hazmat suit, gloves, and a full-face respirator to protect us from the biological fluids we might encounter. They also protected us from our various cleaning supplies.
Once we were suited up, Tripp and Hopper would start loading the deceased into the back of the van. As soon as they were done, they’d help me start the cleaning prep.
We’d place plastic-lined disposal boxes throughout the lot, then all weaponry—guns, knives, and all fired shell casings would be cleared from the grounds. And then, the real work would begin.
It wouldn’t be easy, but then again, it never was.
I was still thinking it all through when Grinder turned to me and asked, “You want my boys to give your guys a hand with anything?”
“Yeah.” I motioned over to Hopper as he finished putting on his mask, then said, “They could start by helping Hop and Tripp load the van. We’ll see how it goes from there.”
“Sounds good.”
After ordering his boys to get to work, Grinder followed me over to the first body, and together, we bent down and lifted him from the ground. The guy was wearing a biker’s cut, but I didn’t bother taking the time to look at the name. I had no reason to. Knowing the who or why of an altercation didn’t change anything. These guys were dead. Nothing was going to change that.
Besides, I was there to do a job.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Once we’d loaded all the bodies, Hopper and I grabbed our four-gallon backpack sprayers and started hosing down areas that contained biological fluids or matter. Simple bleach wasn’t enough to remove blood, so we created our own mix that was sure to eliminate any and all traces of DNA.
While we were busy spraying, Tripp collected all the shell casings and discarded weapons and tossed them in the boxes. Tiny droplets of rain started cascading down around us, but there was too much to be done for us to let it slow us down. I’d just gone over to grab some scrub brushes from the van when Grinder came over to me.