Embracing the inevitable

This book is the true depiction of my job as a body transfer technician. The police like to jokingly call us the body snatchers or we are also known as mortuary transfer technicians. We are the people who pick you up after you pass away. We pick you up from Hospitals, hospices, residences and medical examiners. Wherever you pass away that's where we go. It may seem like an average, every day, boring job. But I am here to tell you from firsthand experience that it is anything but average and ordinary. What you're going to read in this book will absolutely shock you, sadden you and probably make you question everything you thought you knew about dying.
Check out this excerpt from Chapter 4,

"There was an eerie, tense feeling in the air as we arrived at the funeral home. The wind was blowing hard and sounded like it was whistling. All the leaves on the trees were rustling from the wind that I can't feel. I brushed off the feeling and assumed I was just anxious about arriving at the hills have eyes cemetery.

As luck would have it, none of my keys were labeled. I had to shakily go through at least 30 keys to gain entry into the first gate. Now this gate is old and rickety. Since I'm short, I have to stand on a bar that feels like it's going to fall off at any moment. It's extremely dark and for the love of God, I am in a cemetery in the middle of the night! The lock is slanted at a weird angle so it's hard to even get a key in, so 30 was very trying on my already shot nerves. This took what seemed like forever and Laine is asking me 1,000 times what I'm doing. I wanted to tell her, "Oh I'm just over here hanging out on this gate reading a book". I look over my shoulder the whole time and was pouring sweat out of fear and near heat exhaustion. The sprinkler system came on while I was at the second gate. I almost jumped out of my own skin, thinking I was about to be the burly caretaker's dinner. We finally made it to the pale-yellow shack. I backed my van up to the garage doors and shakily got out to disarm the alarm. There is one flickering light by the garage door that is continuously turning on and off. I surveyed my surroundings. It is forebodingly quiet, and the air feels heavy, almost like it's a warning to us. I kept hearing what sounded like leaves crushing under someone's feet as they are walking closer and closer to me, but I don't see anyone. I am completely on edge. At this point, we had no idea that this night was about to test us in ways we never could have imagined."

Dettagli