The Friday 56 for 4/15/22: The Cutting Season by M.W. Craven

This is a weekly bloghop hosted by Freda’s Voice.

RULES:
Grab a book, any book.
Turn to Page 56 or 56% on your ereader. If you have to improvise, that is okay.
Find a snippet, short and sweet.
Post it.

from Page 56 of:

The Cutting Season by M.W. Craven

Poe was dragged feet first out of the van. His skull cracked against the wet concrete. He ran his tongue across his teeth. One of his fillings had come loose.

Great, he thought.

He was pulled to his feet and pushed into a building. It immediately got colder. He was still wearing a hood and his nose felt like it was full of broken glass, but Poe knew where he was. The smell of raw meat and the sudden drop in temperature meant he was in the meat warehouse the Hole in the Wall Gang had bought twenty years earlier. It was where they cured and air-dried the pork and beef and game meats they served in Battista’s Bar and Grill and the other restaurants they owned. It was where the sausages were made.

Poe knew it was also where the gang disposed of anyone who bothered them. The turf wars of the eighties were long over, but all gangs squabbled from time to time. A building whose only purpose was the processing of meat was also perfect for making humans disappear without a trace.