Page 14 of Six
“Does it melt the skin?” Meg asks, showing her curiosity.
“Kind of, it’s a high-pressure chamber, potassium hydroxide is mixed with water and heated to three-hundred-and-two degrees.” Michael shares his enthusiasm, flicking his eyes to all the confused people sitting at the table.
“Babe, in layman’s terms,” Raph tells his boyfriend, but I can see the small proud smile tilting his lips.
Michael rolls his eyes. “The machine looks like a rectangular stainless steel box, as big as a van, with a touchscreen. The body enters through a circular steel door. A biochemical reaction takes place inside the chamber, and the flesh dissolves off the bones.”
“Like the shape-shifting robot inTerminator 2?” Uri asks.
Michael continues. “But in the course of about four hours, the strong alkaline base breaks down everything except the skeleton into the original components that built it: sugar, salt, peptides, and amino acids.”
“DNA unzips into its nucleobases—cytosine, guanine, adenine, thymine,” Sari adds, whatever that means. Michael and Meg are the only ones nodding in understanding.
“The body becomes a sterile, watery liquid that looks like tea. The liquid goes through a pipe into a holding tank, where it cools, reaching an acceptable pH and can be released down the drain,” Michael finishes with a big smile on his face.
“The human body, liquefied, smells like steamed clams, the article said.” Sari snorts.
“Really? Like seafood?” Uri sounds dubious. He tied his dreads back in a half-ponytail, reminding me of Oliver and the way I grabbed his locks while I fucked his face.
“What about the bones?” Gabe asks, fortunately taking my mind out of the gutter. A boner at the family table is just nasty.
“The air-dried bones are pulverized and can be scattered into a river or ocean where they will float and then disperse.”
“Pure calcium phosphate dissolves very slowly,” Sari states.
“We’d look like drug lords flushing their stash.” Rami huffs, making a wide gesture with his arms.
“Sounds…nerdy.” Linda scrunches her nose.
“And taxing.” Uri sniffs, the lazy fucker.
“And pricy,” Gabe says, after gulping a sip of water.
“A cremator is a faster and better idea,” I say.
“The pyromaniac claims.” Rami points at me.
“First, we get the mortuary cooler,” Raph declares.Like the one Michael uses to keep the corpses at the hospital morgue?
“What for?” Meg asks.
“Yeah, why? We need to get rid of the bodies, not keep them in the freezer waiting to invite a wandering cannibal for dinner,” Rami quips; the blue fingerless leather gloves on his hands look new.
“Torture.” It’s the only thing Raph says, making me frown.
“As in, freezing donors to death?” Meg asks without hiding her perplexity.
With a sigh, Michael decides to explain our brother’s psycho mindset. “Raph thinks that waking up in a narrow, metal, coffin-looking place could create intense and overwhelming terror in the donors.”
“Mental torture.” Gabe’s voice is glacial. It silences any other question.
The air is filled with heavy tension as thick as fog. Michael is the only one with a confused expression on his face. Because he doesn’t know what Gabe suffered through when he was caged in the facility.
“It can be worse than physical torture, but not as entertaining, I can assure you,” he adds.
He exchanges a long, grave look with Raph. Then Raph nods, and Gabe clears his throat. He changes the topic, pointing at my bruised jaw. “How’s the clandestine fighting ring going?”
“Hulk here has quite the followers.” Rami’s teasing words lighten the atmosphere. He gives me that cheesy wink of his, making me wish I could punch him right now. Unfortunately, he’s sitting on the other side of the table, and Meg doesn’t let us fight inside the house—not after Uri broke the window in the kitchen by throwing a chair at Raph when we were teens. On the other hand, Linda only commented, “Boys will be boys,” with a proud smile on her face.
