Читать книгу Dead Inside - Noelle Holten - Страница 7

CHAPTER ONE

Оглавление

With only a few hours left in his shift, Amit was itching for a break. He saw Beacon Park up ahead and, as the moon reflected brightly off the bonnet of his black cab, he pulled up at the kerb and turned off his engine. It was nearly 4 a.m.

He stretched his arms and the twinge in his leg told him he needed to get out before they cramped up. He opened the door and felt the chill in the air. Reaching over to the passenger seat, he grabbed his jacket and stepped out of his car. It was so quiet. Not a person in sight, but as it wasn’t the best area in Markston, he made sure to lock his door before heading to the park entrance.

Amit stood by the gate and debated whether to have a quick walk down the path. The lamps were few and far between, thanks to the bloody council. He pulled the collar of his jacket up to keep his neck warm and started walking. A gust of wind blew a plastic bag in front of him and made him jump. He shook his head, looked over his shoulder. Laughed to himself.

In the distance, he could see something in the middle of the path – a large lump was blocking the way. He took out his mobile phone and searched for the flashlight app. Turning it on, he held the phone in front of him and saw that it was a person, lying flat on their back. Probably some drunk passed out after a few too many. Could be a potential fare if he played his cards right.

‘Hey! Are you OK?’ He waited for a response. Kept waiting. After a minute or so he decided to approach. They may have hit their head when they fell backwards. The clothing indicated that it was probably a man and, as he got closer, he noticed something wet on the ground. He must have been sick. The man’s arms were splayed out beside him, like he was rejoicing in the glory of his drunkenness.

Amit wasn’t prepared for the sight that met his eyes and he could feel the bile rise in his throat. Oh Christ!

The man was not sleeping – though Amit wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead. He shone the flashlight over his chest and couldn’t see it rising. It was then that he spotted the slash across his throat and realized that it wasn’t puke oozing beneath the man’s head – it was blood. He jumped back. Shit. Shit. Shhhhhhhit.

Hands shaking, he ran back along the path. Punched in 999 on his mobile and raised the phone to his ear. Time stood still as he stopped running, heaving in a breath. Heard the phone ring once, twice and finally an answer.

‘Uh … hell … hello? Yes, police p-p-please. I’ve found a body.’

His phone fell from his shaking hands and the contents of his dinner emptied on to the grass.

Dead Inside

Подняться наверх