I’d been at gruesome death scenes before. One of the worst had been the product of a man who’d burned the victims halfway to ash. That one had left me with mixed associations with the smell of smoked pork.
The bright side of this one was that it wouldn’t leave me with mixed associations with pleasant smells. It smelled like rotting meat combined with any biological substance that might leak out of a human body before the body stiffened.
I didn’t throw up, but it was a near thing. My stomach rolled and I did my best to keep everything inside where it belonged. Continue reading Motor City Intern: Part 3