Du immediately smelled it—the unmistakable, unforgettable, death smell.
Faint, just a little taste brought by the wind.It was still early in the day, but his vast experience told him that it would not be long before the smell spread enough for the neighbors to pick up a whiff.
"Headquarters, I'm Phillips. The house clearly smells of rotting corpses. I need to enter immediately."
"Understood, Phillips. Get in, and take your places."
Du walked on the snow-covered sidewalk, his feet creaking on the salt-sprinkled snow.Ann Arbor, Michigan is home to 40,000 college students, many of whom live in dilapidated big houses like this.This type of house was a small family home in the 1950s, a sign of successful middle-class people at the time, usually housing mum, dad and a group of children.The fetid, beer-smelling house is now packed with half a dozen students, or more.
There should have been six children in the room, but there was no movement at all.It's especially inexplicable now that it's been five minutes since we left the game -- the Werewolves were playing Penn State's Nittany Lions -- and the house was supposed to be rowdy, full of drunken war hymns, TV screaming kids.Like the house on the left and the house on the right.But the house in the middle?It was silent.
Du pushed the handle, and the door was locked.He stretched his head to look in the window, but the inside was boarded up.He did a quick check and found that all the windows were boarded up.
He hated the trick to death.It's so disgusting!He stood in the doorway, drew a .45 revolver from his back, and kicked the door hard.After two more kicks, the door opened.
This damn smell hits my face like the breath of Satan.
Du swallowed, and walked in.
"God!" Du said.He wasn't a religious man, but he couldn't think of any other words.
"Phillips, I'm the headquarters, are you okay?"
"It's nothing to blame," Du said softly, and the microphone picked up all the sounds, "Reinforce immediately, keep quiet. Three people were shot and killed, and the suspect may still be inside. Armored troops are on standby, we have a big prey here."
In the living room alone, Du found three swollen corpses.In addition to their moldy skin, swollen bellies and flies dancing around the corpses, he also found that each had been shot in the head.Their hands and feet were tied up.They were killed.about four days ago.
"Where are you, you bloody yellow man!" Du said.He knew that this kind of thinking was very bad, and this kind of title was even worse, but the person who made such a detrimental decision was a child from Vietnam, and his age was about the same as that of the enemies Du had killed on the battlefield before.This guy has to pay now.
Four soldiers in protective suits, carrying P90 submachine guns, followed him into the room, and there was silence all around, except for the sound of heavy clothes rubbing against each other.Du made a gesture to indicate that they were scattered on the first floor.He directed another team of four down to the basement, and led a third team upstairs together.The house was dead silent, and he could even faintly hear the football game coming from the two neighboring houses.Cheers told him the Werewolves had just scored a touchdown.
Du led the way up the creaking stairs.Somewhere upstairs, there's a madman with a bad infection.Like Brubaker, but this one has a gun.
"This is Cooper," a voice came from Du's earphones, "another body was found downstairs."
Yes, the kid has to pay.
Du walked up the stairs.He checked every room, ready to open fire if there was any situation.Every room is messy, college kids style.This is not a room for rich people's children. This house is full of people living in it—to correct it, it used to be occupied by students who had to work part-time to complete their studies.There is a computer in each room, and each computer screen has a clear bullet hole.
The last room, of course, is full of answers.And the answer was really something he didn't want to see.
A bloated corpse strapped to a chair.A body with no legs and hands, half of the skull missing.A hammer protruded from the skull like a handle.Swarms of flies are enjoying this brain meal.
On the floor, a pitted black skeleton lay on a green carpet, surrounded by black smudges.
This would take a steam cleaner to clean, Du thought, before realizing if he too was starting to get a little nervous.
A .22 caliber rifle is pressed under the frame.On the back of the skull, there's a little round hole in the socket of the left eye, and the damn yellow man shot himself in the left eye.
"I'm Phillips, the alarm is off and the suspect is dead."
Failed again.He didn't know whether Otto and Margaret could find other clues from Dr. Chen's files, and whether there was any progress.The situation couldn't have been worse - a massacre of infected physics students, and a 7-year-old girl with a strange fibrous root that was removed six days ago.
Hope they can find important information.
At least they don't need to see it.