Hell's Belle Read Online Free PDF Page A

rolling his eyes as he followed behind me. 
    Frantic shouts interrupted our witty repartee.  I pressed myself into the wall as a crush of medical personnel rushed down the hall surrounding a stretcher. They were moving fast, but not fast enough. Blood-soaked sheets were piled on top of a young male. The medics had the sheet pulled down to the man's stomach. One of the doctors had his hand inside the man's chest cavity, which was torn open. Shattered bones poked out, the jagged edges of skin and flesh hung down to meet his torso. I couldn't take my eyes off the carnage. A shudder ran through me and I felt my adrenaline boost. I wanted to throw up and have a snack all at the same time.
    God, what is wrong with me tonight?
    I shook it off and looked over at Max. His cell phone was chirping. Looking at the caller’s name, he scowled. He strode down the hall to take the call. I was left cooling my heels.
    I could hear the doctors and nurses rallying to save the man in a room down the hall. Machines beeped and voices called, getting louder and more frantic. “Damn it! We’re losing him,” a female voice cried out. The sound of shouts died down as the sustained beep of a heart rate monitor told me they lost the victim. A cold gust of wind slipped past. I shivered.
    A man stepped right through the curtain and looked directly at me. He was dead, an apparition, and his body kind of rippled as he moved, not quite translucent -- I could make out his face, his eyes, his youthful physique -- but he was definitely not a solid form. I blinked and stared at time, dumbfounded. He was a ghost. I had never actually seen a ghost before. They don’t physically appear to humans. Or vampires.
    He was young -- I'd put him at 19, maybe 20 -- with a handsome, brooding face that carried several scars. His arms were inked with a mix of tattoos, including a giant cross on his bicep. But his eyes gave me a start -- they were haunting and old. He had clearly lived a life much longer than his birth years. And it didn't look like he was going to find much peace in death either.
    The ghost's eyes went from haunted to determined. His form moved swiftly down the hall, and pushing towards me. I drew back, once again pressing myself against the wall. But it was too late. My body tensed up against the cold, wet thickness of ghostly goo that ran right through my own body. I shuddered. Gross.
    Just then, Max returned, pushing his phone back into his pocket. He looked surprised to see me pressed against the wall.
    "You okay?" he asked gruffly.
    "Yeah," I peeled myself off the wall to walk to the exit. I lost track of the ghost.
    "Will you be alright on your own?" he asked. "That was the Providence PD. There was another murder and a victim was found alive. He’s here at the hospital. I am going to stick around and see if he’s up for questioning after the doctors are done with him." He nodded at the room that the ghost came out of. Guess the ghost was the victim they thought was alive.
    "He’s not talking," I shook my head sadly. “He didn’t make it.”
    Max turned and kicked the wall, frustration twisting his chiseled face. 
    "Want to drop me at a crime scene then?" he asked grimly.
    "Why not," I said with a shrug. "It'll be the perfect nightcap to an evening like this."

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 5
     
     
    We headed to an abandoned dock at the Port of Providence, not far from the hospital. I forced to Max make a pit stop on the way to the crime scene. The candy bar did next to nothing to curb my hunger, and I needed a meat-like substance in my stomach before I snapped. There was a 7-Eleven about a block or so away from the crime scene, and I love hot dogs.
    I squinted, my eyes adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lighting of the convenience store. The cashier had classic rock playing on the boom box behind the counter. Max studied the coffee. I made a beeline to the greasy “Big Bite” hot dogs spinning around on the rotating grill. Which one, or two, or