One.
[ It's a stench he's intimately familiar with, one that makes him reach for a gun that isn't there and, when that sickening realization sinks in, one that forces him to breathe through his mouth least he contaminates the crime scene with what's left of whatever he had for lunch. The sticky squelch of blood against his sneakers, the dark, the suffocating knowing that he isn't alone... it makes him freeze, heart hammering like a trapped bird against his ribs. ]