Free Shoofly Pie & Chop Shop by Tim Downs Page B

“Try this. It’s covered with Vicks.”
    “That’s an old gravedigger’s trick,” Nick said. “They used to use camphor. You guys really know your business.”
    Both boys grinned from ear to ear.
    “Casey, open that backpack. We’ve got to work fast—I mean, I’m on a tight schedule here. See those plastic containers? Pop off the lids and take out the labels. Griff, you hold the containers for me. Casey, you write what I tell you on the labels.” He took out a penlight and a pair of long forceps.
    Kathryn was already on her feet again, though both legs fluttered like sparrows. She felt a wretched emptiness inside as though her very soul had been sucked from her body. With her right hand she pressed the life-saving bandanna tight against her face; her left hand clutched her stomach, hoping to prevent it from once again hurtling into the abyss. She staggered around the gurney half-doubled over, slowly regaining her strength, taking in everything she could.
    She watched Nick pluck several plump white maggots from the open wound in the right temple and drop them into one of Griff’s containers.
    “You can close that one,” he said. “Put, ‘right temporal region, entry wound.’” From the opposite side he selected several more. “‘Left temporal region, exit wound.’”
    He collected specimens from each ocular region, then used his penlight to prop open the jaw and peered inside. “We’ve got a cave full of bats,” he said, as he stepped aside to allow Casey and Griff to have a look, much to their delight. Kathryn felt her stomach convulse like kneading dough.
    From deep within the nasal cavity, Nick slowly removed one fat, wriggling larva that was easily twice the size of any he hadcollected yet. “Jimmy’s been a bad boy.” He whistled and held the specimen aloft for all to see. “Would you look at the size of that bugger? Label this big boy ‘nasal septum.’”
    Casey pointed to a missing hand. Nick gathered a few specimens and scraped away several others to examine the exposed stump. “This is from predator activity. Looks like everybody liked Jimmy.” He winked at the boys.
    He worked quickly now. “The infestation is consistent with the estimated time of death,” he noted to Kathryn, “and so is the general condition of the tissues.” He pulled the tattered shirt sleeves up and observed the purplish black coloration on the dorsal surface of the arms where the skin lay against the gurney. He moved around to the legs and removed the shoes and socks. The left foot had the same burgundy discoloration along the heel and continuing up the leg—but the right foot was completely purple from heel to toe. He jerked up the right pant leg. The color ended abruptly just above the ankle. The leg above it had no stain at all.
    “How did you find the body? How was it lying? Show me.” He nodded toward the floor. Griff lay down and stretched out on his back, arms and legs straight out.
    “You’re sure? Exactly like that?” Both boys nodded confidently.
    He moved around to the side of the body and began to search inside the bag itself. “Help me out here, all three of you,” he said, pointing to the opposite side of the bag. “I’m looking for late-instar larvae—really big ones—and especially for little brown capsules about this big. Sort of like brown rice. Check the pockets and the folds in the clothing too—quick now.”
    The boys scrambled over one another to set to the task. Kathryn edged up to the bag herself and pretended to search, but her mind was desperately focused on something else, anything else that could block out the horror before her.
    Nick came around once again to the head. “I guess this will have to do,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder at the door. He reached for the zipper and began to slide it up, but as it approached the head, he abruptly stopped. “Well hello there,” he said, peering closely at a small, sparsely infested wound in the center of the