Down the Darkest Street Read Online Free PDF

ago, after the Silent Death. He sighed and flicked the card toward the garbage can near the entrance. The card missed, bouncing off the edge and landing face down near a day-old edition of The Miami Times .

CHAPTER FIVE
    Julian let a s oft yawn escape his mouth as he parked his van a few blocks from his place. He’d lived in the dingy Overtown apartment for close to a month; it was all he could find for the money he had and the privacy he needed. Overtown, in the northwest part of Miami, was a poor area. Despite repeated efforts over the years, it remained plagued by crime and struck him as the perfect spot to hide.
    He proceeded to his first-floor one-bedroom apartment. Julian never spoke to the Voice directly—that was not possible. But his Messenger reached out to him when the Voice needed him, wanted him to act. Erica Morales had been good. A slight smile formed on his face as he turned on the living room light.
    He sat down at the edge of his small used couch. She had awoken a few minutes before he arrived at the site, confused and mumbling, slipping in and out of consciousness. She was talking about her Spanish test. She wasn’t supposed to wake up yet. He slammed her face forward on the dashboard and heard a soft thud. She slid to the right, moving with the car as it turned into the site, and that was it for Erica.
    The phone rang.
    Julian got up with a start. He picked up the landline receiver. He waited.
    “Hello?” It was the Messenger.
    “You’re not supposed to call me here,” Julian said.
    “I know, but—”
    “Hang up. I will call you.”
    “Wait, I have—”
    Julian slammed the receiver down, the force of the motion shaking the small, flimsy table the phone rested on. He made a mental note to cancel the phone line and to begin preliminary searches for a new place to live. A connection now existed.
    He walked over to his tiny computer desk and grabbed a small plastic bag from under it. He pulled out a disposable cell phone—one of about twenty that were in the bag—and began to dial a number he knew from memory. He’d just finished the latest quick-drop on his way back—leaving a series of phone numbers for the Messenger so he’d know where to call. Yet he calls his home line? Foolish.
    “Hello?”
    “Speak.”
    “Oh, OK,” the Messenger said. It was awkward-sounding and hesitant. “Um, I spoke to, uh, to our friend. He’s happy with, uh, um…with your work. He likes what you did. He hopes you’re staying careful and busy.”
    “I am. I am very careful. He should know that.”
    “He sees all and knows you’re serving him well. He is happy.”
    Julian cleared his throat. “Good. I’m waiting for word from him. About what to do next.”
    “No need to wait,” the Messenger muttered. “You must refine the method. Channel your focus back to where you started and move on that quickly. Think of the Voice. Let him fuel your behavior. Spread his message with whatever you do.”
    Julian closed the cheap disposable cell and let it fall to the floor. He dropped his heavy boot on the phone and watched as it splintered and chipped.
    Julian felt content. Not only had Erica accepted him inside her, and become another piece of his tapestry, but the Voice had reached out. It had been months. It was a time for good news and celebration.
    He let his shirt and pants drop to the floor and sat down in front of his computer, a cheap, rudimentary mini-laptop that he replaced often. A shiver trickled down his spine as he began his search. He hunted. He would find the next one and continue the mission he had been tasked with. And with each step—with each check marked in blood on the wall—he would build a chorus of voices so loud that the future would be as clear as the present, open for him to see and feel.

CHAPTER SIX
    Who the he ll is Alice? The words screamed in Pete’s head as he walked through the door. It still felt like his father’s house, Pete thought as he slid his keys into his front