She Smells the Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

buzzing sound started whirring in my ears. I went to take a step and suddenly didn’t know where my feet were.
    “Yuki? Yuki! Are you alright? Can you hear me?” Calvin asked worriedly. He was kneeling on the ground holding me sitting upright.
    I must have fallen or passed out. “Mmm, yeah. I think so,” I mumbled feeling fuzzy. His blue eyes suddenly came into focus and I felt like I could breathe. “Can you help me up? I think we’re really close,” I said as he carefully helped me to my feet. Calvin was hovering as I turned in a slow circle to get a reading. The smell and the new tingling sensation seemed to be coming from the northwest. “That way,” I pointed and we started up the hill.
    We finally came to a heap of refuse that I guess was the Green farm compost pile. I looked at the satellite map to confirm my suspicion. This compost heap wasn’t on the satellite map. It was new . My excitement was dimmed only when I realized what that meant. We were going to have to dig in this thing for clues. I turned to Cal to see that he had come to the same conclusion. I could have sworn I heard a whimper escape his lips. This sucks eggs. What else is new ?
    I was suddenly glad that I had worn my shiny vinyl club boots. The deep tread would be a pain to scrape out later, but I would stay a lot cleaner than Calvin. He had on a pair of sandals and I shuddered at the thought of decomposing vegetable matter squishing between his toes. I tied the ends of my skirt up like puffy pantaloons and dug the garden trowel I had brought with me out of my backpack. Calvin looked even more upset as he pulled a spork from his school bag. Trowel envy Calvin Miller ? Feeling just a bit smug I pulled another small shovel from my bag. It was a kid’s beach shovel, but it was a million times bigger than his spork.
    “Here you go Cal. You’d make a terrible pirate you know,” I said laughing as I handed him the shovel and then wincing at the foul taste.
    “I told you Yuki. I’m Calvin the Bandit,” he said primly as he bent down to start digging. I had to bite my lip to stifle another laugh as we both set to work on the compost heap.
     

Chapter 11
     
     
    After what seemed like decades, but was probably just an hour, my trowel hit something. The sound of metal scraping on metal carried over the buzzing of flies and Calvin and I smiled for the first time since we had started digging.
    “Please say that is our buried treasure,” Calvin moaned. He had turned an unhealthy shade of green and looked like he was going to be sick.
    I was tempted to tease him about his wimpy stomach, but decided it was unfair. How was I to know how bad it really smelled out here? I was in a perpetual cloud of vinegar smell thanks to Jackson’s ghost.
    I carefully wiggled the metal box until I was able to pull it out of the heap with a sucking sound. I started to stumble back when Calvin caught my arm. “Thanks. This is one place I really do not want to fall on my butt,” I said.
    I figured we had suffered enough, so I started walking away from the heap and toward the truck. Before getting in I poured the rest on my water bottle over my hands and then grabbed the hand sanitizer I never leave home without. Calvin looked at it longingly and I handed it over to him. “Is it alright to get in your truck?” I asked Cal suddenly realizing just how filthy we were.
    “Sure. Just a sec,” he said as he ran over to the back of the truck. He came back with towels which he threw over the bench seat of the truck. “All set,” he said and stepped back.
    I didn’t want to get caught near the farm with the box, so I suggested we wait until we were back on the highway before I tried to open it. The box appeared to be a metal toolbox with a latch but no lock. Once we were cruising on the highway I opened the latch. The lid fell back against the tops of my knees as I stared at the contents. Calvin was dividing his attention between the box and the road, but I could