Ghost Canyon (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 7) by Anthony Strong (ebooks that read to you .TXT) 📕

anything else,” Charlie said, a chill enveloping him. He motioned the paramedics and rescue team to move back, away from the blood. “This might be a crime scene. We don’t want to contaminate it.”

“What? You can’t just abandon them down here.” Sasha aimed her flashlight further down the empty tunnel. “We don’t know for sure that they’re dead. We have to confirm it.”

“And we will,” Colbeck said. “But we’re going to need a bigger team to conduct a thorough search. We need the proper gear too. There must be miles of tunnels down here. As it is, we could wander for days and never find them, and just end up getting lost ourselves.”

“I have a question,” Glenn said. “Since we all agree there was a struggle, and that with this amount of blood it’s unlikely the victims survived, is anyone else curious where the bodies went? I mean, we know there’s no wildlife in the mine to drag them off, so if those men died here, they should still be here.”

“Unless our witness back in town is the real killer, and he’s covering his ass with by claiming that a creature attacked them.” Charlie played his flashlight beam over the bloodied ground once more. “He could’ve murdered them, dragged the bodies deeper into the mine, and dropped them down a shaft before running back to town and claiming a monster got them.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very believable story if you want to get away with murder.”

“You would be surprised,” Charlie said. “I’ve heard perps come up with some real crazy shit to stay out of jail. But yes, I agree. As explanations go, it’s not very sound.”

“Especially when he could just say that they fell down the mine shaft. He doesn’t need to invent an unknown assailant,” Glenn replied. “And why attack them so violently? There must be a hundred ways to kill someone down here without leaving all that blood behind.”

“When we locate the bodies, we’ll have our answer.” Charlie said. “But right now, we should return to the surface and regroup. It’s not safe to go further under the circumstances.”

“Maybe the old guy, Carlton, will have a map of the mine.”

“It’s possible.”

“Let’s go, then.” Colbeck said. “We’ll return better prepared and make a full search.” He turned to head back the way they’d come.

They had only gone a few feet when Sasha stopped and held up an arm. She turned back toward the dark tunnel. “Wait. I hear something.”

Charlie stopped and listened. “I don’t hear anything.”

“I do,” Glenn said. “It’s like a low moan.”

Then Charlie heard it too. A whispering moan that echoed from the direction of the unexplored tunnel. A shiver ran up his spine. “What on earth is that?”

“Maybe it’s one of the lost geologists,” Sasha said. She pointed her light down the tunnel, but there was nothing there.

“It was probably a breeze,” Charlie replied, but even as he spoke the words, he knew it wasn’t stirring air.

“Hush,” Sasha waved them quiet.

Then Charlie heard a new noise. A shuffling, dragging sound, and this was definitely no breeze.

“It must be the geologists. They aren’t dead,” Sasha said, her eyes wide. She took a step toward the sounds. “We need to help them.”

“No.” Colbeck reached out to stop her. “It isn’t safe.”

“We can’t just abandon them.” Sasha shrugged his hand away and kept going.

“Wait,” Charlie said. He had a bad feeling about this situation. “We don’t even know that it’s them.”

“Who else could it be?” Sasha glanced back, briefly meeting Charlie’s gaze. “If the rest of you don’t want to help, I’ll find them myself.” Then she turned and took off down the tunnel at a sprint.

“Sasha,” Colbeck shouted after her.

But it was too late. She was already gone.

Chapter Nine

It was early evening in Maine. Decker sat at the bar in CUSP’s strangely hotel-like accommodation block, nursing a whiskey sour. He leaned on the bar and stared down into the untouched drink, watching the ice melt. His tour of The Zoo had left Decker with a deep sense of unease. Knowing that such a place existed, and seeing firsthand, were two different things. It drove home the reality that his work had consequences long after the end of a mission. Despite Adam Hunt’s assurances that the German sailors released from their purgatory on the U-boat were being well taken care of, Decker couldn’t help but wonder if CUSP had created a prison for them just as restrictive as the one Grendel now occupied.

That Hunt referred to the prison cells in the subterranean facility sitting beneath the island as suites only heightened Decker’s sense of disconnect. He understood that creatures such as Grendel, and his mother, Astrid, were dangerous. He knew they could not be allowed to roam free, killing at will. But he also possessed a strong sense of justice, or more accurately, due process. In his previous life there was a line that separated men like him, who apprehended bad guys, and the judiciary who weighed their fate with impartiality. In his new job, Decker had become judge, jury, and executioner. It was this shift in the dynamic of his life that left Decker uncomfortable.

“That whiskey has probably aged about as much as it’s ever going to,” a familiar voice said to his right. “If you’re not going to drink it, you should probably pass it over here. I’ll put the blighter out of its misery.”

“You wouldn’t like this,” Decker said, dragging his gaze from the glass and glancing toward Colum. “It’s bourbon.”

“So?” Colum raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you Irish lads were of the opinion that anything made outside of the Emerald Isle wasn’t a true whiskey.”

“Don’t sweat yourself.” Colum climbed onto a stool next to Decker. “I’ll drink it now and go to confession later.”

“That easy, huh?”

“Perks of being raised Catholic.”

“And how does that Catholic God feel about your current profession? Do you think he’d be happy that we round up his creations and lock them away?”

“Oh, hell.” Colum shook his head. “Adam Hunt