Read Well Fed - 05 for Free Online Page B

rear either, which meant the four of them had gone in with whatever they’d brought along and did not come back out.
    He straightened and stepped back enough to study the mansion’s front doors between the columns. The house towered over him, pondering whether he had the fortitude to venture inside. Gus wondered that himself. The mirrored gleam of the unshuttered windows on the third level made him paranoid.
    “Fuck it,” he snarled and marched right up to the entrance. The main doors were great slabs of wood that might’ve been pulled off a German castle and shipped overseas. Nothing seemed wrecked or even damaged. The place reeked of unchecked decadence, money spent on luxuries simply because one had money. It wouldn’t surprise Gus if the shitter was made of gold and the toilet paper of silk—maybe even a diamond dispenser.
    Silk toilet paper .
    That had possibilities.
    A doorbell in the guise of a leather cord with a tail of tassels hung from the upper frame. Gus ignored the temptation to pull it, imagining cathedral-sized chimes ringing out deep within the mansion.
    He tugged on the wrought-iron handle on the left.
    It cracked open.
    Gus supposed he shouldn’t be surprised at how easily that went. Talbert and his boys had probably come the very same way.
    Then the house exhaled in his face.
    The breath of a violated tomb assaulted him, a putrid wave of decomposition Gus hadn’t smelled in a long time—certainly not on the open farm. The stink flooded his nose and mouth and befouled both, his hand arriving late to cover his face. His shoulders bunched reflexively, and he squinted into the gap, enduring the rotten air.
    An elegant inner room with a midnight marbled floor ended in a closed set of lacquered cherrywood doors that simply shone in the meager daylight. A waist-high series of Japanese-style lockers both collected outer footwear and offered slippers. Empty ceramic vases rested on the top in a tasteful décor. A wall-mounted computer screen and ultrathin terminal jutted from the wall on his right. He stepped inside and gravitated toward the machine, tapped its keyboard.
    Unresponsive.
    Behind him, the door creaked. Gus turned about and took two steps before jamming the bat into the shrinking gap, halting the door’s closure. The air smelled a little better now, but a bad vibe remained. The outer door had to stay open. He didn’t understand why––it wasn’t locked––but a sense of sinister grandeur permeated this first room, a portent of things deeper within.
    Gray daylight, a saber of sanity, beamed at him.
    Don’t , one of those shitbagged goblins whispered sweetly in his ear. I’m telling you… don’t…
    You’re being fuckin’ silly , Gus scolded himself. The door isn’t locked. You’re just ring rusty, is all.
    Frowning, he let the door swing closed without a squeal of hinges, entombing him. Fear of being trapped gripped his senses, and he lurched forward, found the handle, and yanked.
    The door opened with a comforting Yes? Need something?
    Holding it, Gus leaned out of the mansion and checked on the SUV and minivan. The coast was still clear. All was simply ducky outside. Feeling better with daylight at his back, he grabbed a pair of soft-soled slippers from a locker and packed one underneath the first door, keeping it wide open. Van Helsing wouldn’t go into a vampire’s lair at night, and having an open avenue of retreat made Gus feel better. He regarded the inner door, amazed at its inlays of threaded gold. The cost and craftsmanship made him shake his head.
    Taking one of the inner doors’ handles, Gus pulled.
    It wouldn’t move.
    He pushed.
    Another mournful gasp of bad gas made him cringe and hold his breath. His shadow stretched over a grand foyer of more polished marble floors. Glittering chandeliers floated overhead like immense jellyfish made of crystal. Dark pillars of bare wood rose up on either side of the entrance, leading into archways and side corridors, black and