Dr. Victor Tallow froze five inches in front of the open stainless-steel tray of Morgue Drawer 13.
The seven-foot frame of poured human tallow trembled under the operating theater floodlights.
Thin hairline cracks split across his jaw and neck.
Drops of yellowish liquid fat dripped onto the cold floor tiles.
“Julian, do it now!” Elena shouted across the amphitheater.
She braced her boots against the base of the autopsy pedestal.
Her left arm was wrapped in the heavy brass chain of the White Master Chart.
“The power grid is fluctuating!” Elena warned.
