This is the third chapter to the novel, "The Generation" that I am working on. If you haven't been reading my novel, here is Chapter 1 and Chapter 2. Please feel free to let me know what you think.
He trusted no one. He raked his fingers through the long damp locks of his Raven black hair as he rounded the steel building’s corner. There was a tired and perilous look to him as drops of moisture from the heavy downpour clung to the stubble on his face. There was a determination in his movement as he pressed forward. The sound of drunken laughter in the distance caught his attention, and he paused to survey the area.
The glowing neon lights on either side of the sidewalk allowed him enough light to see a few feet in front of him. To the left of him stood The Haven Room the largest hotel in California. The hotel was designed by a Romania architect who had insisted it be done completely in white marble, both inside and out. Guards were posted at every entrance to keep lower class citizens away and any onlookers who knew about the hotel‘s countless high-priced possessions.
To the right of the hotel, Chops, a place known for it’s international cuisine and extensive wine list. Although the building looked more casual than elegant with it’s tan brick exterior, steel doors and less than massive size, it was anything but that. Guests of The Haven Room made it a point to visit Chops at least once during their stay.
On the other side of the street a tall slender red head and her scrawny melon-breasted companion swayed from side to side and smiled as they hurried across the road and approached him in the harsh rain.
“You got a light honey?” The red head asked him.
He eyed the two women up and down. The red head wore a little black strapless dress and gold glittery boots. Her friend wore a red lacy minidress that left nothing to the imagination.
“No.” He watched them shrug off his reply and move on into the night. He knew where they had come from and it sickened him more than he wanted to admit. They were legal prostitutes. The Stargetta’s girls. He could tell by the smell of sweat and sex stirring in the night air, that The Stargetta was less than a block away.
He’d learned the place was a hang out for the Military Force when they were off duty and wanted a legal prostitute or drink. Military Force. Right. Ever since California had replaced civilian police with military, the force had become nothing but disastrous, doing as they pleased, whenever they felt the need; and their strike against him personally was proof of that.
It had taken him nearly two years to find the men who were a constant reminder of the life he once had, until tonight. Tonight he would get his revenge. Tonight, he would put her to rest. Tonight, they were going to pay.
He fingered the cross on the chain around his neck, stopped, took a drag of his cigarette, flicked the ashes, then stubbed it out against the building’s steel wall. Someone was following him and they had been since third and Western Ave. Whoever it was obviously wanted to be known.
He closed his eyes, muttering a curse at his own stupidity. Packing a starter 23 laser pistol into the inside front pocket of his jacket was a habit lately, one since that night. The walk had been a habit since that night as well. He didn’t like walking the streets alone at night and he damn sure didn’t like carrying a gun. A gun that usually lay resting beneath his fingers. A gun he never left home without, until now. Downtown had a zero tolerance weapon policy, one even the military force was not acceptable to. They also had a zero vehicular policy because of the Haven Room and it’s fear of looters and if a person violated either policy the result was death and with sensors hidden throughout the buildings it was a risk he could not afford to take.
It was a problem, but not one he couldn’t handle. He smiled at that thought and nodded letting his thoughts wander for a moment, his face dark with pain, eyes blazing murderously. She was a baby, only a baby.
She was the only thing that mattered anymore and would ever matter and he be damned if he let anyone take that away from him.
It was time to end this charade and find out what the hell they wanted and there was only one way to do that. Slowing his steps, he stopped and without hesitation turned back the way he had came.
The man was alone, that was the first thing he noticed. The second, the man was unarmed.
He stared as the regal-faced man standing before him said “Jake Briston I have been looking for you.”
“Right.” Jake calmly replied with a small self-mocking smile.