The Dead Man: Kill Them All Read Online Free PDF

a transfusion bottle there, but something didn’t look right. What was it? Matt struggled to make sense of his situation. He felt weak and dizzy. And then it finally hit him. They weren’t giving him fluids or medication.
    They were drawing his blood.
    Lots of it.
    “You hungry?”
    “What?”
    Scotty repeated, “You hungry? Our medic says you’ll last longer if we give you some fruit and orange juice once in a while.”
    Matt felt the world slide sideways and tilt. He was growing weaker by the second. Matt knew he wasn’t like other people—not anymore, not since he’d come back from the dead. No one was guaranteed immortality. How many pints of blood in a human body? Something like ten? How much had he lost already?
    They were bleeding him.
    “Two things I get off on,” Scotty said. “Football and old movies. You ever watch Laurel and Hardy? Those two old comics from the silent movie days? One tall and skinny, one short and fat. Loved those guys. You know, it turns out the dumb one was the brains.”
    “Huh?”
    Scotty grinned again. The boyish smile prompted Matt’s memory. “Andy,” he said. His voice was already becoming a desperate croak.
    “Andy?”
    “You remind me of my friend Andy.” A lifelong friend Matt had to kill after the Dark Man and the rot of evil took him over. And now that same rot was spreading across Scotty’s face, eating away the flesh on his chin. A thin stream of pus dribbled from his right nostril.
    “That so?” Scotty seemed pleased. “Cool. Hey, thing is, under other circumstances, we probably could have been friends. Hope you realize this isn’t personal, Cahill. If it was up to me, I’d keep you around. Orders are orders.”
    Matt shivered. The air was cold and he felt weak. “ Whose orders?”
    “Boss man says to take your blood, so we take your blood. Ours is not to reason why.” Scotty yawned. Something ugly and black writhed like a worm of smoke in the back of his throat as if fighting to get out.
    “Don’t do this,” Matt said. “It’s murder.”
    “War is hell,” Scotty said. And he flashed that Andy grin again. Matt felt fear and a deep sadness, both for himself and for Scotty, who might have been a decent person once but was past saving now. Matt didn’t want to die like this, but he was too weak for much of anything else—and growing weaker by the minute. He closed his eyes.
    Scotty slapped his face lightly. “Stay awake, dude. We want you around for as long as possible.”
    “Screw you.”
    “That’s it! Come on, you don’t want this to be too easy, do you?”
    “I don’t want this at all.”
    Matt rolled his head the other way. A couple of mercenaries sat nearby. One was sucking on what smelled like a joint. The other was snoozing. The sliding side door to the van was open a crack. Another mercenary stood guard outside, but without much panache or enthusiasm. These men were well trained, but evil was on board, eroding their focus. Individual discipline was sliding. Appetites running amuck. They all reeked of sin. If Mr. Dark wasn’t actually running the show, he was most certainly involved. Had to be in some way.
    Matt studied his foe. Tried to speak. “Why?”
    Scotty blinked. “Why take your blood? Dude, you’re fucking famous. Matt Cahill, the man who was frozen solid for three months and brought back to life. The word went out among the very, very, very rich that you are Ponce de Fucking León himself, the owner of the secret of eternal youth. It was only a matter of time until someone hired a guy like me to come and find you.”
    “Who?”
    Scotty smiled. “Guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you. The checks come from some very smart men with money. Old men who contribute heavily to the university where you were first studied.”
    “The university?”
    “Alumni, shall we say.”
    “They think it’s in my blood?”
    “They say it has to be, dude. Somewhere in your blood or your DNA. So they figure it’s something money can