Messengers

Chapter one

Hi Wonderful Reader,

Thanks for taking the time to read this first chapter of my new novel Messengers. I would love to hear what you think. I'm going to enter it at Amazon's Kindle Scout, which is a new program allowing you to vote for novels you think Amazon should publish. Do let me know if you think this first chapter sucks you in to want to know what happens next.

Thanks and love to you wonderful readers,

Susan May xxx

Toby Benson paused at the entrance to the alley to hoist the large blue sports bag higher onto his shoulder. During his journey here, the ungainly weight of its precious cargo caused the bag to slip down his arm, forcing him to stop several times to rebalance it again.

The back alley was a dark corridor of gray shadows and fractured shapes. Towering buildings only allowed the barest slip of light to enter as the full moon passed directly overhead... as it did now. A solitary wall light shed only enough illumination for workers inside the establishments backing onto it, to see well enough to bring out the trash. It was a perfect location to film a horror film. Just add haunting music and the audience would be clued that something terrifying was about to happen.

He didn’t notice any of these things. Somewhere deep inside, perhaps, he registered them on some unconscious level, understood that he should be afraid or that this wasn’t a place for him. If he did, though, the thought didn’t make it through to that part of his brain controlled by self-preservation.

He saw nothing except a strange mist settled over his vision like a swirling film on the surface of a pond. He heard nothing except the voice in his head, which seemed to be coming from God—or at least from someone with such authority he was unable to resist.

The voice knew him. He felt as if it wanted to help him, guide him toward his destiny. Who was he to argue, when it spoke with such conviction?

Ahead at the end of the brick corridor, lay a doorway guarded on either side by two tall commercial waste containers. Pieces of trash lay dotted about their bases as if they were rejected competitors that hadn’t made the cut—scattered bottles, empty cardboard fast-food containers, remnants of plastic bags, paper, and even what looked like a woman’s shirt. Wasteful. Thoughtless. The flotsam of humanity discarded to become someone else’s problem.

Human beings were filthy creatures.

He noted the fleeting thought, but decided that it didn’t require an action. It was unimportant and unrelated to his future movements. To the plan. It was merely commentary, like an observational voice-over in a National Geographic wildlife documentary.

The back door glowed a fluorescent green as if it were indicating to him here was the perfect entry. It was the signal, the voice said, that he was on the right path.

Green was go.

On the opposite side of the building would be the front door to the restaurant. Which restaurant he wasn’t sure, but he knew this area well, so he knew it must be an eatery of some sort. This was the entertainment area of the city, populated with a myriad of restaurants and clubs, ranging from small cafés to silver service establishments.

As he neared the doorway the green glow surrounding it intensified, the light piercing his eyes and making his brain feel as if it were aglow. The alley, which had been dark upon his entry, now seemed bathed in green. This was how the signs worked. This glow, like colored breadcrumbs, his assurance this was his mission path.

This way. This is for you.

He’d followed the markers for the past hour, and they’d led him here. A streetlight, a car, a crosswalk sign—they were all just like the door. At first they would glow softly with a gentle hum of color against the darkness of night, then intensify as he neared, so he never doubted the path he was to follow.