Dead in Bed by Bailey Simms, The Complete First Book Read Free

He
took one step backward.
    Then he threw up all
over a changing bench.
    Instinctively, I put a
hand on my husband’s back while he retched. I didn’t know what else to do. I
glanced at Ian. He looked completely at a loss.
    “I’ll help,” I said.
“I’ll do it.”
    “Shit, Ashley,” he
began, “you don’t…”
    “I can do it,” I said.
    I stepped toward the
body before I could lose my nerve. Ian looked extremely uncomfortable, but I
could tell he knew he didn’t have any other choice but to accept my help.
    I pulled two gloves
from the cardboard box in Ian’s medical bag and put them on.
    “Shit,” he said,
again.
    “Just tell me what to
do. What do I do?”
    Ian took a deep
breath. “All right. Shit. You take the ankles. It’s not far. Let’s just hurry
and get this over with. Goddamn it, Ash. I owe you.”
    I tried not to think
about what I was doing. I tried to tell myself that this was no different than
a dead animal or a dummy.
    But as I clutched the
body’s ankles, the tendons and bones beneath the skin felt so human and
lifelike that I started to feel dizzy. I tried to breathe, but I hadn’t
expected the smell to be so strong. It was definitely the smell of rotten
flesh. I wondered if maybe the rancid smell was coming from the swollen testicles;
after all, they did look like they were rotting or maybe turning gangrenous.
    I had to do something
to distract myself so I wouldn’t throw up. I was desperate not to let Ian down.
I knew that my sister wouldn’t have been able to do this, and somewhere deep
inside I’d always understood that Danielle couldn’t ever really let herself
imagine what Ian must have gone through in the war. I wondered if, by helping
him now in this unlikely way, maybe I could somehow show him that I knew his
life contained unspeakable horrors that my sister couldn’t comprehend.
    “What do you think
happened to him?” I asked Ian.
    I didn’t actually care
what had happened, not at that moment. But I couldn’t think of any other way to
get my mind off the smell and the body’s sagging, loose weight in my hands as
we shuffled through the locker room.
    “I have no idea,” Ian
whispered. “He must have been trying to peep through the window. And then I
guess he fell through the glass.”
    “But what about his…?”
I started, but I couldn’t finish. “Why is it   missing ?”
    I could barely bring
myself to ask about the missing penis, and I couldn’t even begin to mention the
bloated testicles. They appeared at the point of bursting as the body swayed
between us.
    Ian gave me a look of
total perplexity and shook his head. “I have  no  idea.”
    “It’s one of those
carnies!” Though Mrs. Whipple was still crying, she was obviously in control
enough to make this last proclamation as she held the locker room door open for
us, shuddering. “They’re all on drugs!”
    The hardest part was
lifting the body into the back of Ian’s SUV.
    Ian laid the shoulders
on the tailgate while I kept hold of the ankles. I’d managed to control my
nausea, but now my arms were burning. I didn’t even want to think about letting
the body drop or the sound of it hitting the pavement. Ian climbed into the
back and pulled the shoulders from the inside, and then, finally, I could let
go. I looked around the dark lot outside the gym. I didn’t think anyone saw us,
but I could hear the crowd from the game moving in our direction.
    “You okay?” Ian asked.
    I nodded.
    “I’m real sorry, Ash,”
he whispered. “Really.”
    “It’s okay.” I tried
to smile. “I need a drink,” I laughed, “but I’m okay.”
    Now Ian laughed, too,
obviously relieved that I’d been able to handle it. Maybe he was even a little
impressed.
    After laughing,
though, he added earnestly, “Technically, you weren’t supposed to see any of
this. Right?”
    “Right,” I nodded. “Of
course. Okay.”
     
    * * *
     
    I helped
Shawn wash the splattered vomit off his shoes while Mrs.