The Cool Room by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 65

Sam, being in possession of no degree of conscience, spoke up, demanding they return to their cots.

“I don’t give a fuck if he’s awake or not,” he said. “Now, all of you get back to your cots. We’ve got a couple of pounds of coke to process tomorrow and I want this on the streets as soon as possible, got it? And don’t worry about that asshole. He was going to call the cops. I saw it in his face. But he’s not doing shit now, is he?”

Each of them knew that if they were arrested, the charge of murder would be added to what promised to be a long list of felonies.

The light of the furnace cast an eerie glow against the walls of the cellar as the men, having returned to their respective cots, attempted to fall asleep. But knowing what burned within the walls of the furnace prevented them from closing their eyes as their minds filled with the horror of melting flesh. The image of Jonathan’s body seizing under the intense heat was something none of them would be able to flush from their minds. For as long as they lived, they would be haunted by the twisting and turning of dying flesh as Jonathan, albeit unconscious, burned alive in the cremation furnace. One or two managed to drift off but were suddenly awakened as Jonathan, now deceased, threw out a burning arm and striking it against the steel wall of the furnace produced a loud thud. Their minds had now been thrown across the line of sanity as each got up from their cots. Sitting on the edge of their wooden frames, they stared at the window of the furnace, wishing they were someplace else. Their leader, however, having managed to fall into a sound sleep, was awakened by one of the men inquiring about their actions.

“You told us about what Frank said,” Cole said. “No one was supposed to get hurt. We were only supposed to be here for a few weeks, not fucking move in.”

Getting up from his cot, Sam rose to his feet and, striking the man across the face, began lecturing them on how things had changed. “Right,” he said, “No one was supposed to get hurt until fuck face in there came down here and started poking around. So, I don’t give a shit what Frank said. We’re going to do what we need to do so we can make as much money as possible. Anyone got a problem with that? Because pretty soon, that thing’s going to have room for someone else, and I don’t give a fuck if they’re alive or not, got it?” Everyone nodded their heads, too afraid to speak up against having just thrown a living human being into a crematory furnace. But it had become clear that their leader, having no regard for life, had just proved himself to be dangerous and that any of them could be next for the furnace.