It was more than Sophie could take, and she gagged once before vomiting on the floor.
“I’m coming, babe!” She barely registered Dean’s voice as she continued to retch. From the corner of her eyes she saw Dean push his club through the window before lifting himself up. Sophie vomited again, emptying out her stomach.
Dean had swung himself into the building by that point, and it was his turn to be assaulted by the dog’s attention and the awful stench.
“Whoa. Take it easy Nuggets.” He pushed the dog away and straightened up.
“Breathe through your mouth, babe.” He told the still heaving Sophie as he took a couple of steps into the store. Nuggets was practically glued to him as he moved. The dog was clearly in desperate need for human contact.
“Yeah. You’re ok.” Dean gave the dog a quick pat. “Some guard dog you are.” Sophie was grateful that Nuggets was no guard dog, He had been taught not to bark, as customers wouldn’t be comfortable in the store otherwise. Instead, the dog only made small whining noises. It wouldn’t give their location away to the silent screamers.
Dean felt around in his jacket pocket for a few seconds before pulling something out with a small whoop of success. With a small click, he turned on the flashlight on his phone.
Sophie had regained her composure a bit, wiping the last couple of ropes of spittle from her mouth and chin. The episode had stuffed her nose, which thankfully inhibited her sense of smell. She could still taste the smell in her mouth though. Oddly, it tasted sweet.
Just then there was a crashing sound outside. Nugget whined at the noise, obviously distressed. Dean quickly came back to the window and looked out. He couldn’t see anything but guessed that one of the silent screamers had reached the yard fence.
“Let’s get away from this window...” He took Sophie’s hand, and with his impromptu flashlight led the way into the darkened interior of the store.
It didn’t take long to discover the source of the smell. Samantha Wilson lay in the center aisle. Dean approached from the direction of her feet and noticed that Sam was not wearing shoes or socks. As he exposed more of the body, he could see that she was in her pyjamas. She had been placed here, that became obvious when Dean saw that Sam’s hands were crossed, resting on her belly.
She had died violently.
That became apparent when Dean’s flashlight lit up her face. Above her half-open mouth, a small towel had been laid to cover her face. It had come partially away, likely pulled aside by Nuggets. One eye was wide open, but there was a gaping hole where the other eye should have been. She had been shot at close range.
“Oh, Sam...” Dean muttered as he stood over the body. Sophie came up behind him and whimpered when she saw the horrific injury, so Dean quickly placed the towel back over Sam’s face.
A quick scan of the rest of the store revealed nothing out of place. Nuggets had been locked inside and had resorted to doing his business along the far wall. A closer look revealed that the dog had been suffering. Large tufts of hair were missing from his side, and the dog was clearly dehydrated and hungry.
Sophie couldn’t keep the morbid thought from crossing her mind, wondering why Nuggets hadn’t eaten his former owner. But just as quickly another thought crossed her mind.
“Where’s Jamie?”
Dean quickly hustled back to the window and grabbed his club before making his way to the counter in the store. They knew that the door behind the counter led to a stairwell, which in turn led to Sam and Jamie’s private residence.
DEAN CAUTIOUSLY OPENED the door.
Another sickly-sweet smell wafted down from upstairs. Before he could stop Nuggets, the dog squeezed by his legs and up the stairs, emitting a high-pitched whine.
Full of trepidation, the couple crept up the stairs. The hallway window lighted up the area so Dean turned off his flashlight.
The smell became stronger at the top landing. The only open door was at the far end, and they could hear Nuggets moving around in that room, continuing to whine.
Dean and Sophie entered the bedroom in silence. The figure in the bed, while hard to make out as the curtains were drawn, was clearly deceased. Dean walked around the bed and opened the curtains slightly, exposing the wasted body of Jamie Wilson. Mercifully, his eyes were closed. His arm was hanging off the side of the bed. Nuggets nuzzled the unmoving hand. It looked like Jamie had died in his sleep.
The bottle beside the bed proved otherwise, though.
Dean picked it up and held it up to the light – but the writing was all in Chinese.
“Did he...?” Sophie started, edging closer from the doorway.
Dean nodded. “Yeah, I think he poisoned himself.” Nuggets continued to whine and paw at Jamie’s arm.
That’s when Dean noticed the notebook on the nightstand. He picked it up and opened it up.
“Hey, it looks like Jamie kept a diary.” He glanced up at Sophie, who held out her hand with a nod of assent.
“Let me get the dog some water and food.” He said as he handed her the diary. They reverently closed the bedroom door behind them.
Dean opened the next door down the hall. It was a bathroom.
“Ok, let’s get you some water. Nuggets! Here boy!” He said as he coaxed the dog into the bathroom.
Sophie opened the next door. It was a bedroom that had been converted into an office. The shades were up, and the room bright. She sat down at the desk and flipped the diary open to the last page with writing on it.
This will be my last entry. I can already feel it coursing through my body. Wow those chinks really know their poison. Ha. Chinks. Guess that’s racist. If anybody
