Here's another <b>snippet</b> that didn't make it into the book, simply because I didn't have the room that I realized this storyline was going to need. There's more than just this bit, but I can post it in pieces>>> -- Cindy's Cottage

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Date Posted: 12:54:36 12/16/11 Fri
Author: cg
Subject: Here's another snippet that didn't make it into the book, simply because I didn't have the room that I realized this storyline was going to need. There's more than just this bit, but I can post it in pieces>>>
In reply to: cg 's message, "Come in out of the cold my lovelies, there's a peat fire in the hearth, the kettle is humming on the Aga and the whiskey is chilling in the boot room. :)" on 14:31:36 12/01/11 Thu

Chapter 37- Black Taxi

The streets were his hunting ground. In this city people disappeared all the time, mostly for the grave sin of wandering off into the wrong bit. Or for being associated with someone who was a known criminal of the political sort. Either way it was to a hunter�s advantage, prey went missing, people assumed it was political in origin- presumed dead, but in the name of a cause or creed.

A city was a living organism, its streets the arteries through which humans moved in predictable patterns. In this city there were crosspoints, places through which people must move in a strange no man�s land, but one could always tell from whence they had come. If one hunted long enough, if one watched for hours and days, one knew from which tribe any given person originated. He had the patience of the natural born hunter, he watched, he waited. People were like helpless deer, following preordained pathways even when they thought they were being cunning and smart.

An unofficial, messy little war served many purposes, it covered over many sins, hid things that would otherwise find the light of day, allowed atrocities to masquerade as tribal conflict, as the collateral damage of conflict. This war was perfect for him; it gave relief to the hunger that ruled his life.

He could not remember a day in his life that the hunger hadn�t ruled, though he knew there must have been a time when it had not. It ruled now though, with an iron hand and he was its willing slave.

He drew hard on his cigarette, considering his options. The smoke floated and curled out on the damp air, blue tendrils sliding amongst the molecules of oxygen, infiltrating and dissipating, just as he himself did through people and streets. As good as invisible, for he killed any witness to his actions.

It was time to move on, better hunting tomorrow, perhaps. But then something flickered in the corner of his eye, a bit of blue cloth, not much to the average person�s senses, but to his own a prickle of fire along the spine, and that strangely pleasant shudder that told him the prey had come out into the open field, where he might play with it at his leisure, until he no longer wished to play.

It was a young man, alone, and just slightly the worse for drink. Precisely how he liked them. He eased in the clutch and let the car roll forward.

�Will ye want a ride, lad? �Tisn�t the best neighbourhood to be caught out in.�

***

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Replies:

Gives me the shivers Cindy. The description of the man is so vivid and real and it's a bit scary when the last line two lines are read. (NT) -- Tracy, 13:56:17 12/16/11 Fri
- Oh oh oh and have you started the Snippet Book yet??? If you don't, I will! (NT) -- Tracy, 13:58:07 12/16/11 Fri
  - I think you might be better at putting together 'The Snippet Book' than I would, Tracy. If you saw the state my files are in, you would have a case of the vapours. :) (NT) -- cg, 11:30:04 12/17/11 Sat
    - Nothing a few giggles and pink sparkly drink wouldn't help with!! (NT) -- Tracy, 11:07:42 12/18/11 Sun
Well, that gave me the cold shivers. (NT) -- Carla, 16:03:35 12/16/11 Fri
Yikes!! (NT) -- Mahri, 16:18:31 12/16/11 Fri
That SOB!!! Creepy! (NT) -- Denise, 18:03:24 12/16/11 Fri
okay, that was waaaay too creepy! Great piece of writing, even though its the "dark" kind. :-) (NT) -- Lil, 09:29:13 12/17/11 Sat