Green Ice: A Deadly High Read Online Free PDF Page B

myself at this point. Then I see the cooker. The cooker is still on, burning at a low heat. This guy, Brian Dench, his severed head is sitting on top of the cooker. Just placed there on the top of the stove, cooking away like a rib roast.”
    “Ah, man,” Trey muttered, scowling in revulsion.
    “Turned out, this Dench guy had also owed money to some extremely badass people, some crew from Panama who didn’t take kindly to his non-payments. They didn’t just butcher Dench, they killed his whole family. Me and Zamora went around back, found the door open and we went inside to see if we could salvage anything worth any money. We found the rest of his family in the living room, his old lady and two kids all laying on the ground side by side with their brains blown out. No doubt the callous bastards did the shooting in front of Dench before they killed him.”
    “So what did you do, man?” Trey asked.
    “We got the hell out of there. The place had been ransacked. Everything worth a cent was gone. But I’ll never forget that smell.” Mancini shook his head. “I’ll never eat a barbecue again.”
    Trey’s face was fixed in an expression of repulsion as he mulled over the story and pictured the scene of Dench’s cooking head in his mind.
    Mancini leaned forward and turned the stereo back up. The track had moved on to the “ Bikini Men ” playing “ Power Bomb. ” He glanced at Trey but he didn’t look like he was enjoying the surf tunes any longer.
    “Hey, lighten up,” Mancini yelled above the stereo noise. “Things might get a bit worse when we encounter these guys in Ensenada.”
    “Who are they, specifically?” Trey asked. “I know they like, stole a whole bunch of money and a stash of Mr Oreilles’s merchandise but are they real bad-asses or what?”
    “Put it this way, your dad would probably meet them more in an employment related incident than a social gathering,” Mancini said.
    “And we’re supposed to waste them, right?”
    “If it comes to that. Hopefully, they’ll return the money and the product they stole without a situation.”
    “Yeah, right. Like they’re going to do that without beef,” Trey scoffed. “You do know they’ve blown most of that stash up their asses getting wasted and spent like a zillion dollars in the process?”
    “Maybe,” Mancini muttered. “They pay up what they owe or they’ll face the consequences of their actions.”
    Trey flashed Mancini an incredulous glance. “And there are three of these guys, right?”
    “U-huh.” Mancini nodded.
    “Don’t you think we should have evened the numbers up a little?”
    “We’ll be okay.”
    Mancini stared unemotionally at the road ahead. Trey Coogan turned his gaze back to the highway. He was beginning to seriously regret volunteering for this out of town trip.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
    Mancini and Trey sat in silence, listening to the stereo for nearly thirty minutes and precisely thirty miles. Trey slowed the Thunderbird when he saw a woman on the side of the road, attempting to flag them down. She stood beside a small, red Chevrolet parked on the shoulder. 
    Mancini turned down the music on the stereo and leaned forward in his seat. “Be careful,” he growled.
    The woman looked as though she was in her early twenties and wore a white t-shirt and blue short pants. Her frizzy brown hair bobbed up and down as she furiously waved her arms from side to side above her head. Mancini and Trey recognized an expression of sheer terror on her face as they slowed and drew closer.
    The woman babbled hysterically in Spanish and Mancini couldn’t understand a word she was saying. Trey brought the car to a stop alongside the Chevrolet.
    “What’s she talking about?” Mancini asked Trey.
    “I don’t know…she’s talking too fast…something about…err…a dead man, I think.”
    “A dead man? Where, exactly?”
    “ Donde