Alone In The Darkness Read online




  Alone

  In The

  Darkness

  By:

  MATTHEW BUZA

  Copyright © 2016 by Matthew Buza.

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For information contact: www.matthewbuza.com

  Book and Cover design by Matthew Buza

  Book edited by Arial Buza

  ISBN-10: 0692693254

  ISBN-13: 978-0692693254

  First Edition: April 2016

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For my wife and daughter.

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Through the river

  Draped in water

  Hands slide on pebbles

  My eyes are dark

  I pray for home

  CHAPTER ONE

  The red evening sky peaked through the clouds and flowed through the city of Everett out along Ebey Island. The river split cupping the island dotted with homes and wire fenced pastures. The island levy was barely visible from the hill above where the man stood next to his car thumbing a cigarette nervously in the light drizzle. Behind the man came the night pouring through the Cascades.

  He pulled out his phone swiped quickly with his thumb. The message still said delivered.

  The man paced around his car, thumbing through his contacts selecting a number and brought the phone to his ear.

  “Hello,” The phone answered.

  “George its Steven.”

  “What's up man? You want to come over tonight?”

  “No I can’t. Actually I’m in a tough spot. I owe some money and I need a little help.”

  “How much do you owe?”

  “A couple thousand. “

  George's voice couldn't hide his surprise, “Who do you owe it to?”

  “Hector and his crew.” There was silence on the line.

  “Shit.” George's voice sounded like the air had been taken out.

  “I know man, it’s bad.” Steven's head dropped to the ground and then back up as traffic passed by. Vehicle headlights illuminated his car. His shadow stretched along the brambles and out over the cliff.

  “Steven I…” He paused for a moment, “I don't know if I can help right now. I'm out of cash and the stamp money won't kick in for a few days. How soon do you need it?”

  “I need to make a delivery tonight.”

  “Is there anything you can pawn? Can you talk to your mom?” Steven’s eyes winced.

  “I turned in what I could and scraped together a little money, but I still need more. I've moved some of the product, but I've got more.”

  “Damn, why did you get in with that guy? You have a good thing going on right now.”

  “I know I was dumb. I was speaking with one of his street guys one day and it sounded like a sure thing. I thought I could move some on the side and no one would know. “

  “How much do you have left?”

  “About 10 bags of Meth.”

  “That's not much, how much did you pull down?

  “Shared some with some people and moved a little.”

  Steven could feel George's disappointment on the other side of the line. He had known George since high school and it burned to think of involving him. George questioned Steven, “How soon do you need it?”

  Steven paused, “I'm not sure. I sent a message to Juan asking for more time.”

  “Man, I will see what I can do but I don't think I will be able to help. I'll check to see if anyone might want your excess. I'll let you know if I hear anything. I'm sorry.” Another pause, “Be safe, these are not good guys.”

  Steven let his breath out as he spoke, “I know, thanks for the help.”

  He brought the phone to his side and stared back towards town. A light mist fell around him. He walked around and got into the car and reached down under the dash pulling on a hidden compartment. He removed the bags and rolled them in his hands. The green light of the dash illuminated his face in the failing evening light. He had been in tight situations before, but he felt for the first time he felt this type of pressure.

  The door closed and he slumped into his seat. He mouthed to himself, Think, think, think. He pulled out his phone and began to type the same message to a wave of contacts, I have some ice I need to move. Any takers?

  He sat back and rubbed his hand repeatedly on his pants as if trying to remove something unseen. His fingers crooked like claws. He needed help focusing so he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small glass pipe and laid it on his lap. He reached for a small metal plate near the dash and removed the knife from his jacket, opening the blade. He pulled out a small bag and placed the translucent rock into the plate. With the butt end of the knife he ground the rock into a fine powder. He pulled a small straw out from the dash filled the bottom end and placed it into the glass bulb. He raised the bulb to his mouth with the lighter underneath.

  His phone lit up and buzzed, I'll take some.

  Steven's eyes closed. He opened the flame and rocked back and forth under the bulb. His mind shrank to the green swirl of the flue. He rocked the lighter over the bulb ensuring even heating. The powder slowly began to melt into a clear liquid. A light smoke began to lift from the bulb and Steven began to pull. His lungs filled. He could feel the burn and held it in. 1 second, 2 seconds, 3 seconds. Out. He placed his lips on the glass piece and pulled again. The smoke pulled into his lung entering his body, racing to his heart and mind. He lowered the bulb to his lap. His eyes open to the world clear and smooth.

  Another buzz and the light from his cell phone, If you have something I'm interested.

  Steven leaned back. He could feel the rush and he began to focus. The minutes rolled off as he sat in the car. He checked his phone messages and scrolled past the junkies and meth heads, there was one message that mattered, and that was from Juan. The message was clear and it was marked, Read. His eyes drifted from the screen empty and wishful. He could only imagine the discussion occurring on the other side of that text, Read. That tenuous link over the digital distance. Meaning and mystery. What could they be thinking and would he get the time to make things right?

  The screen turned black and then began to buzz, it said Juan over the front. Steve let out his breath as he pulled back into reality. His thumb hovered over the red button on the screen. In this moment he was overwhelmed with hope and fear. The phone buzzed aga
in. He pressed and pulled the phone to his ear.

  “Hello.”

  “It's Juan.” As if Steven didn't see that on his phone.

  “Hey man, did you get a...did you get my text?”

  “I'm sitting here thinking. I've got a lot to do today. One of those things is you walking up to me and placing an envelope of cash into my hand. I would then count that cash. Look up to you and then smile saying "Thank you for your business Amigo” and then watch you leave.”

  “Yea…”

  “And then you would walk back to your car, get in, and drive off.”

  “Yea…”

  “And I would then go back to Hector and say, “that Steven guy paid up” and we could all have a beer. But in reality I'm sitting here, with lots on my mind, and my phone tells me that you're off probably smoking up the stash, shitting your pants, hovering over a keyboard asking for more time. This makes me upset.”

  “I just wanted to know if I could hold off until tomorrow.”

  “Steven...you're free to hold off until tomorrow. That is fine, your choice my friend.”

  Steven leaned back with a small smile and let out a breath, “Thank you.” He could feel the pressure lifting. Another day might be all he needed.

  “You’re free to do that. And when you're sleeping tonight it will be my choice on how I am going to scatter you across this county.” There was a pause as the word scatter hung in the air. “Tonight at 11pm you will be here in front of my house handing me cash. By the look of it you have just over three hours.”

  Steven's chin hit his chest.

  “Steven?” There was a pause. “Steven?”

  Steven could barely open his lips. It was dry and his tongue was sticking to the roof. “Steee...ven?”

  Steven licked his lips. “Yeah.”

  “Steven. I need you to acknowledge what I just said.”

  “I hear you.”

  “11 Steven.” The call ended. There was a silence in the air and he couldn’t breathe. His body was frozen in fear. The car sat motionless in the light rain. From the road the lights shown on the brambles as cars and trucks drove by. Steven began to punch the steering wheel and scream into nothingness. The sound of his screams and the screech of the horn were drowned out by people rushing by, trying get home for the evening. Ahead of the car a valley opened up to an island wrapped by a river and in the distance a city on the sound. A city that offered Steven no peace.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Steven calmed himself wiping the spit from his steering wheel and running his face along his jacket. He plugged his phone in and placed the keys into the ignition and turned. The car roared to life and music began to stream over the speakers. He flipped up a cigarette and lit it while the driver side window rolled down. It was nearly dark and his evening was just beginning. He knew there might be a chance he could pull this off but his time was melting away. The evening light was quickly fading as he pulled onto the highway junction and merged onto Highway 2 heading west to Everett. His eyes narrowed as the steady stream of lights headed east in the opposite direction. The song changed and the rain increased streaking across the window with the windshield wipers floating hypnotically.

  The city lights built as he merged onto Hewitt Ave stopping at a light and then turned right onto Broadway. It was a Friday night and the street was lined with shuffling faces moving amongst the pawn shops and tobacco stores. The city is located north of Seattle on a narrow strip of hill boarded by the river and the sound, filled with old homes and even older streets.

  Steven turned off Broadway onto quiet neighborhood streets with cars guarding the borders. Rows of identical houses flowed by as Steven glanced up the open window to the backlit clouds. A reflection of the city life behind. Steven flicked the remainder of his cigarette and the sparks exploded on the pavement below. He turned left and then pulled into an open parking space.

  Steven quickly grabbed his things and exited the car. He walked up to the sidewalk and made his way down to a faded red home with a broken porch railing.

  From Steven's left he heard a cry, “Hey, Steven my man!”

  Steven nodded with a short wave as he entered the house. The floors creaked under his hollow steps. Steven crossed the entry and onto well-worn carpet that contained years’ worth of dirt and dust.

  “Welcome home,” said a cold voice.

  Steven ignored the voice and kept his head down passing by the living room.

  “Arentcha gonna to say hello to your motha.” The words slurred from her chapped lips as Steven continued around the corner and entered the stairs taking steps two at a time pulling with his arms in an effort to leave the voice in the distance.

  “You going to say something to your mom?” Her boyfriend's voice chased Steven up the stairs. His hands thumbing a rubber elastic band. He lovingly moved his hand across the sores on the woman's face brushing her hair over her ear.

  “You see I tell you, no respect.” She glanced back at the man and then down to the band. “No respect.” A smile came to her mouth.

  Steven reached the landing and turned to the lit room. He burst in to see a young man on the floor with headphones and fingers smashing the game controller, eyes glued to the screen where a rifle was zoomed in on a head. The button was smashed and a light red mist released on screen, a smile across the boy’s face. Steven shut the door alerting his brother to his presence. The game was paused and the headphones lowered, “What are you doing here?”

  “Ryan I don't have any time right now. Do you have any money I could borrow for a day?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Money, I need money right now. Do you have anything?”

  “Goddammit Steven. What's the rush man?”

  “Ryan I'm good for the money. I just need a little help. I promise I'll get you paid back as soon as possible. I wouldn't ask this if I didn't need it”

  Ryan took a deep breath, he knew there was no fighting his brother. It would either end in him handing over cash or it would be beaten out of him. Tonight he decided the look in his brother’s eyes was desperate enough to take the easier road. He resigned himself and slowly rose from the carpet and walked over to the headboard of the bed. He grabbed the golf club from the corner and pulled back on the wooden frame. He reached down hooking a plastic bag and lifting. Ryan lowered the bag onto the bed and opened. He pulled out the small tin and opened. Inside was a deck of cards and some cigarettes. Ryan dumped out the cigarettes and reached into the pack pulling out a wad of green bills.

  “Thank you.”

  “How much do you need?”

  “How much do you have?”

  “About 500.”

  “I need it all.”

  “Are you kidding me? What do I use for change tomorrow? Am I telling people ‘Sorry sir, only exact change today.’”

  “I need it all.” Steven took a step forward and Ryan pulled back slightly. There was a tense pause as options ran through Steven's mind. His eyes widened, “Ryan I'm asking you for a favor. I am in deep shit and I need that cash.”

  Ryan's eyes lowered to the cash and he extended his arm. Steven grabbed the money and thumbed it quickly. Just over 500. He placed the cash into his pocket.

  “Thanks.” Steven slumped to the bed and sat down. “Do you have a joint in here? I've got to come down, I'm riding too high.”

  “Yea, I can see that. You look like you're panicking.”

  Ryan walked over to his dresser and pulled out a small tin and opened. He pulled out the small white stick and passed it to his brother. Steven quickly put it into his mouth and opened his lighter. He took a long drag and passed it to his brother. They shared the joint and Steven closed his eyes off to the world. They shared no sound.

  Steven rose from the bed and pointed to his brother's pinched fingers, “Add that to my tab.”

  He exited the room and walked down the hall and through the door at the end. His room was stale and musty. He spent little time here preferring to crash on var
ious couches or pull into a rest stop and lean back in the car. He had spent his entire life moving in and out of this doorway down the same hall avoiding the first floor of his house. Crossing the barrier of the room imparted some peace into his mind. For the longest time, when he was young it was a refuge, a place he could escape the sounds and sights.

  He moved to a sagging shelf and pulled out three books and tossed them onto the bed behind him. He stepped over a pile of clothes and pulled out the top drawer emptying the socks and boxers onto the floor below. He pulled the taped wad of money from the bottom of the drawer and slid it back into the dresser. He then crossed the room and pushed the door and hopped up onto a small chair. He carefully detached the air vent frame from the wall and reached deep into the duct. He pulled out a small container. He returned to the bed and began to count the cash. He pulled the money from his jacket pocket and assembled his complete stash. “2500.”

  His phone buzzed on the bed, up if u got some.

  Steven grabbed the phone and furiously began responding to the messages. Leaving now will be there soon. Quarter G's at 150. Cash only.

  Over Steven's shoulder two peering eyes shown through the door opening, eyeing the money on the bed and his brother furiously typing away on his phone. Steven stood up and pulled back the covers on the bed and reached shoulder deep. He emerged with a black pistol, his beloved HK. A quick twist of his hand and he pulled the clip out set it on the bed and checked the chamber. He inserted the clip back in, clicked the safety and slid the gun into his pant pocket. His brother entered the room.

  “Where are you going with that?” there was a fear in his voice.

  Steven's head did not leave the bed as he collected the money and the metal tin.

  “I've got some business to attend to and a debt to pay off. I need you to pretend you didn't see this.” His head turned and his eyes met his brothers in an effort to communicate the gravity of the situation. There was a darkness in the eyes as his brother slowly shook his head. “Please head back to your room and play your games. Make sure you get out of here tonight. Go somewhere, anywhere, I don’t care. You promise?”