Cathy felt like sobbing again, but her parental side kept up her overall composure in order to show Scott she remained in control over her emotions. “I’m sorry.”
Quentin bit his lip but stayed silent as he crossed the room and stood beside the door leading into the kitchen. The entire group had just announced their presence to whatever could still be lurking inside the place, and his right hand gripped the gun even tighter.
For a few tense moments nobody moved, and the three adults kept their flashlights pointed low as they waited for any telltale signs of life. The seconds trickled into minutes, and the house remained silent. Quentin breathed an audible sigh of relief.
A part of Quentin wanted to get at the beer still sitting inside the refrigerator, though he quickly shook the thought away and concentrated on what needed to be done. Angling the handheld searchlight past the threshold of the doorway, he made a quick glance into the kitchen’s interior and didn’t see any movement. His wore canvas shoes with rubber soles, and they made a slight squeak as he shifted himself into the adjoining room.
Nick quickly followed, the beam of his flashlight stabbing into the solid darkness. With his other hand holding the stun gun, he made wide strides over what seemed to be an even bigger stain of dark crimson while moving parallel to Quentin.
The kitchen had a set of restaurant-grade burners and ovens built along one end of the room, their quality stainless steel construction a testament to the owner’s wealth. A separate countertop had been erected in front of main station, with overhanging shelves that contained all sorts of pots and pans in addition to various spices and ingredients.
Cathy and Scott stayed at the edge of the doorway, silently waiting on the two men to declare the room safe before taking a step inside.
When Quentin got closer to the food preparation counter and shone his light over the gap he quickly froze. A pair of legs were sticking out. One foot had a leather shoe on, but the other only had a stained sock over it.
Snapping his fingers, Quentin pointed it out to Nick, who then held up his hand, silently telling his wife and son to stay where they were. Moving to the opposite side so he could come upon whoever it was from both flanks, Quentin then leaned forward and held his flashlight sideways in order to get a clear look.
The body of a local man was sitting on the floor, his back resting on the counter. The corpse was dressed in white, evidently a chef’s uniform. The eyes and mouth remained open in frozen terror. Blood had seeped out from the nose and ears before drying as a coagulated foam due to the hot tropical climate.
Nick reeled back in disgust. The sickly smell wasn’t too evident due to the salty air wafting in and out of the house, but the moment he got close to the corpse the full force of the stench somehow entered into his lungs and wouldn’t come out. He retched a little since he’d ate only sparingly ever since Kim had disappeared.
Quentin had seen corpses before, and he kept a level head. Turning to look at the other man’s wife and son, he waved them off using his flashlight. “Don’t come any closer for now, we just found a dead body.”
Cathy’s heart began to pound as she held onto her son’s shoulders. “Is… is it?”
Nick had turned his head away and tried to breath in some fresh air beyond the invisible borders of the corpse’s miasma. “No, it’s an Indian man.”
Quentin crouched down while continuing to shine his light over the corpse. He had thought the dead man was fat, but now it was apparent that decomposition had set in, and the accumulation of gases in the body’s cavity was giving it a bloated appearance. “Looks like he was the cook here.”
Nick leaned his back against the counter. “How long do you think he’s been dead?”
“From the looks of it, at least a few days,” Quentin said. He wasn’t an expert on the subject, but job experience had hardened him enough to stay focused.
“Do you know what killed him?”
“Hard to say, mate. I don’t see any visible wounds, but then again I’m no expert.”
A high pitched chuckle came from somewhere in the surrounding darkness, and another man’s voice was heard. “He was our chef. His name was Ranju. And he died of fright.”
45
QUENTIN EVERETT QUICKLY got back to his feet and turned around, just as someone leapt out from the darkness and made a lunge for him. He twisted his torso, trying to bring the Glock pistol to bear, but the laughing man was already right next to him, the flashing steel glint of the chef’s knife digging into Quentin’s side. Quentin yelled out as the blade cut into him.
Nick Dirkse saw it all happen, yet he stood frozen in place for a few seconds as he watched the two men struggle before Quentin and his assailant fell to the kitchen floor, the gun and flashlight rolling away. The last fight he’d been in was back as a junior in high school, and the whole thing seemed too surreal, like watching a slasher movie.
Quentin groaned in desperation as he used both his hands to try and disarm the other man. He could only see glimpses of his assailant in the twilight since his flashlight had fallen to the floor. The man from the shadows had pale skin and a shocking mass of red hair and unkempt beard, his ropy muscles somehow keeping a solid grip on the knife as they kept fighting on the wooden floor.
“Help me,” Quentin gasped as the laughing man climbed on top of him. The knife was now being held precariously above his chest, with two hands trying to hold it back and two others trying to push it down.
Cathy’s screams finally brought Nick out of his indecision. He edged in closer and thrust the stun gun into the laughing man’s lower back before pushing the button. The electrical surge made the two men on the ground gag as the current went through both of them, but the assailant took the brunt of the nerve wracking agony as he slid off of Quentin and fell sideways onto the floor.
Quentin rolled away and groaned while Cathy ran over to him, leaving Scott standing by the doorway alone.
Nick kicked the knife away from the twitching man on the floor as he continued to send the stun gun’s electrical current into the attacker’s body. After a few more seconds the target on the ground appeared too dazed to even move. Nick quickly stepped back, the rush of adrenaline replaced by a sudden nausea over what he had just done. Seeing the man jerk his shoulders gave him a bit of relief. At least he didn’t kill him.
Sitting up and leaning beside the counter, Quentin winced in pain as Cathy grabbed a kitchen towel lying beside the sink and pressed it to the side of his ribs. There was blood, but the wound didn’t seem to go very deep. When he held the cloth away it appeared to be a very nasty gash that would require some stitches. “Bloody hell,” he murmured.
Blinking his eyes while trying to assess the situation, Nick glanced back towards his son and pointed at a few cabinets at the far end of the room. “Scotty, see if you can find a rope or something so I can tie this guy up.”
The boy stood beside a large wall shelf and began rummaging through the various drawers. “I can barely see anything, Dad. I need a light.”
After quickly tying the towel around Quentin’s wound, Cathy moved sideways and joined Scott, using her phone’s flashlight to help him find something to bind the assailant with. “There’s plenty of cutlery and kitchen tools, but there’s nothing here.”
Nick sighed as he took his belt off and used it to tie the man’s hands together behind his back after making him lie on his side.
Quentin groaned as he used one hand to pull himself upright. He shuffled over to where he had dropped the handheld searchlight, grunting again as he bent over and picked it up. Half a minute later, he found the gun and gingerly took it from the floor before placing the pistol back into his waistband. Walking over to the refrigerator, he opened it and began scanning its contents.