Darkness of the Soul
Read Darkness of the Soul Online
Authors: Kaine Andrews
Darkness
of the Soul
Kaine Andrews
iUniverse, Inc.
Bloomington
Darkness of the Soul
Copyright
© 2009, 2012 by Kaine Andrews.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:
iUniverse
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-5233-2 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4620-5234-9 (ebk)
iUniverse rev. date: 06/22/2012
Contents
7:45 pm, December 23, 1996
Michael
Drakanis
is
whistling
to
himself—“We
Wish
You
a
Merry
Christmas,”
of
all
things—on
the
crowded
drive
through
the
Reno
streets
as
he
heads
home
for
his
first
real
Christmas
vacation
since
his
school
days.
He’s
whistling,
and
why
not?
Things
are
good
at
the
Drakanis
household.
Gina’s
family
has
opted
not
to
come
down
this
year—weather’s
too
bad,
or
so
they
say—and
his
own
family
never
bothers.
So
this
year,
he
has
all
the
time
he
wants
to
spend
with
the
two
people
who
matter
the
most,
Gina
and
Joey—just
the
three
of
them,
together
for
Christmas.
His
whistling
slows
and
then
stops
as
he
gets
to
his
street.
He
feels
something
inside
him
twitch,
like
when
Gina
was
having
Joey
and
the
doctor
said
there
might
be
complications;
some
black
premonition
comes
over
him,
provoked
only
by
that
single
guttering
flash
of
blue
over
red
he
sees
three
blocks
ahead
and
down
the
hill,
which
happens
to
be
exactly
where
his
comfortable
little
house
stands.
His
foot
turns
to
lead
at
the
same
time
an
iron
ball
drops
into
the
pit
of
his
stomach
and
shoves
the
pedal
down,
hard,
sending
him
rocketing
forward
down
the
street.
Good
thing
the
weather
looks
like
it’s
going
to
turn
south,
because
at
this
moment,
Drakanis
is
not
worried
about
some
little
kid
with
a
ball;
he’s
worried
about
seeing
what
he
thinks
he
saw.
The
tires
spin
against
the
thin
coating
of
ice
and
slush
that’s
built
up
over
the
afternoon,
and
the
car
isn’t
totally
under
his
command
as
he
crests
the
hill
and
sees
what
there
is
to
see,
but
that
doesn’t
matter.
All
that
matters
is
getting
there,
making
sure
he
was
wrong.
Unfortunately
for
him,
he
isn’t
wrong;
there
they
are,
three
black-and-whites
with
a
handful
of
cops
he
doesn’t
know,
rookies
most
likely,
milling
about
and
shaking
their
heads.
One
of
them
sees
his
car
coming
and
steps
forward,
shouting
something
as
he
raises
his
hand,
“Slow
down!”
being
the
most
likely
option,
but
whatever
it
is,
it
is
most
certainly
not
“Merry
Christmas!”
which
fazes
Michael
Drakanis
not
at
all.
He
does
hit
the
brakes,
though,
and
swerves
around
the
cop.
It
almost
doesn’t
help,
and
only
the
as-yet-unidentified
officer’s
quick
reflexes
stop
him
from
being
crushed
by
Drakanis’s
unmarked
Impala.
As
it
is,
the
slush
fights
with
him,
sending
the
car
into
a
spin
that
only
stops
when
he
plows
into
the
side
of
Unit
78,
crushing
the
door
and
rippling
the
hood
of
the
Impala
back
to
meet
him.