He paused, laying the recorder down onto the table to free up both his hands as he leaned over her body. There were several holes in her chest, the skin bulging out around each. Puss had started to form before her immune system had shut completely down, turning into putrid gangrene in the hours before her body was discovered. It multiplied the stench of the decomposition a thousand fold. “Two... three exit wounds in the chest made by sharp low-velocity object. One additional slice vertically along the torso beginning at the naval and ending at the solar plexus.”
“Jesus,” Harry muttered, bringing a hand to his mouth.
Lance ignored him, moving up to her face and forcing her eyelids wide with his fingertips. “Pupils are fixed, no signs of asphyxiation... I think she was conscious while he did this to her. It was definitely pari-mortem. There’s bruising around each wound, so blood was flowing through her veins and her immune system was active as this was done.” He stopped, nodding at Harry.
Harry grabbed the sheet which had been up to her waist by both corners and pulled it down as far as her ankles, then spread her legs apart just enough just enough so that Lance could examine her genitals.
“Bruising at seven and five...” he mumbled, spreading her legs apart a little more. “Definitely evidence of sexual assault, but nothing within the last few days. I’d say this is at least two weeks old, but I’ll check her vaginal vault for semen in any case.”
“Dump and go, maybe?” Harry said, a little too much hope in his voice to be asking what he was. “Bastard boyfriend gets tired of raping his girl, so he kills her and trades her in for a newer model?”
Lance shot him a look.
“Just tell me we’re not dealing with the same guy here, Berk,” Harry said, his eyes nearly pleading.
Lance sighed, prying open her mouth with both hands. When he did, Harry saw that the entire front row of teeth were missing, gum and all. What was left was a bloody, postulant maw of what had once been a very inviting smile. “Can’t say that, Har,” he sighed, picking up his camera to take a picture of the grotesque smirk.
Harry turned around and threw up onto the next table over.
Derek grunted angrily as he spun his joystick around in a quick half-moon shape, tapping red and blue keys as he desperately tried to get the tiny digital character on the screen to do something - anything - that might save him as his health bar throbbed a painful looking maroon. For his part, Xander was trying his best not to laugh as he mashed down all three red buttons at once, making his rocky sprite shoot boulders from his eyes and into the opponent. Derek cursed, pushing against Xander with his hip to try and throw him off or get him to release the controls.
“Die, die, die,” Xander smirked, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth as he spun the control stick 180 degrees and slammed the keys just as Derek had been trying to do, successfully executing the finishing move.
“Fuck!” Derek spat, slamming his hand against his own controller. He stepped away from the machine for a moment and ran his fingers over his scalp, then laughed. “That was nice,” he said, pointing a finger at Xander and shooting him a sly smile.
“Thank you, thank you,” Xander said in a voice that was supposed to be aristocratic but came off as just being whiney, taking a few dramatically overdone bows as he did. When he straightened back up, his smile was so wide that even his molars were showing.
It faded instantly when he saw what was over Derek’s left shoulder.
Mike stood in the doorway; his blonde hair turned a dark golden with sweat and matted down against his forehead. His chest heaved up and down under the shirt he was wearing, which had been clean and pressed only hours ago but now had large circular stains under each armpit. His mouth was open and breathing hard and his eyes were barely visible under the shadow of his brow.
“Hey, you’re out of the hospital!” Xander said cheerfully, his arms spread out before him. After a moment with no response his smile faded more and his arms lowered. “Are you all right?” he asked, taking a step closer.
“Ran,” Mike said simply. He scratched at his wrist where there was still an oozing red bump from where the IV had been taken out.
Derek looked from one of them to the other, smirking. “How’s Cathy? She doing all right, too?”
Mike nodded, gasping hard for air but never once taking his eyes off of Xander.
Xander still had a smile perking at the corners of his lips, taking a step or two toward his friend. “That’s great. That’s really great.”
Again, Mike nodded. Even his freckles seemed to be sweating.
“Cool, cool,” Derek continued, patting Xander on the back heartily. “I’ll be sure’n let Julie know. She’s been asking.”
“Kay,” Mike said finally, his voice hoarse from all the running. “Xander, can I talk to you alone for a minute.”
“Sure, buddy,” Xander replied, raising an eyebrow quizzically. He turned and gestured to Derek.
The taller boy nodded briefly, then watched as Xander hopped up the stairs to join Mike without another word before they both walked out the front door. He frowned so far that it stretched the sides of his face, then sighed and turned back toward the video game.
Mike and Xander walked around to the back of The Factory, their feet kicking up loose pebbles and cigarette butts with every step they took. The grass here was always a little darker and sickly
