Catharsis [Novel]

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX

            The street lamps at the end of the alley are much brighter than I remember them being.  They are much brighter than street lamps have ever been that I can remember.  Still a dozen or more yards from the end of the alley I stop walking and turn my face away from the intense buzzing yellowness that is the safety of the street. 

Wait, I think as the previous thought finally gets traction in my mind.  What buzzing?

            Pausing, I turn my head back towards the comforting darkness of the alley from which I'd just come and listen to the buzzing for a moment .  The sound isn’t so much a nest of hornets, as it is one giant, enraged insect.  It’s horrendously loud...and annoying.  Everything is so bright; it feels like daylight washing over me.  More than daylight.  Flashing back, memories of the weekend I went spelunking with my uncle down south flood over me.  We'd come out of a cave after being underground for hours and the overcast afternoon sun had been so blinding that it was almost nauseating.

            It’s the middle of the night, though, and a simple streetlight is having that same effect on me.  The persistent buzzing isn't growing any louder, but I can hear it just sitting outside the alley waiting for me to turn and look at it...whatever it is.

            Steeling myself for whatever I'll see, I slowly...very slowly...turn towards the mouth of the alley.  My speed, or lack thereof, is not due to fear (Which I oddly seem to lack at the moment, considering what I'd recently seen.), but it’s to allow my eyes to adjust to the brightness of the overwhelming light an increment at a time.

            Just under a minute later (I know exactly how long it took - forty-eight seconds - without checking my watch.  How is that?), I turn enough to look out into the street and see...

            ...nothing.  It’s just an empty street and a few street lamps.  There are several empty buildings around me – some deserted just for the night and others for what appear to be a more permanent lack of residency.  I can’t quite bring myself to look all the way up at the bulbs of the lamps (still too bright), but I can turn to face them enough to determine that the monster bumblebee I've been hearing is either trapped "inside" the lamp, or it is just the lamp itself buzzing.

            I've heard lamps buzz before, both on the street and in my own home, but never to this deafening level.  I’m surprised people aren't out here gawking up at them, or calling the police about the sound, or…my thoughts come to a halt as I realize there’s nobody excited about these lights because there’s nobody around to even notice them.  The street’s deserted.

            "Ok," I say quietly to myself just to hear something aside from that stupid light above my head.  "You're out of the alley.  Step one accomplished easily enough.  Now how do you tackle part two:  getting your backside home before it's toast?"  I say and pause as I think for a moment.  "Or find the police?  That’s also a solid choice."

            It might be best if I go home first and talk this over with my parents.  Waking up next to a dead (possibly murdered?), scary, old white guy is a step beyond my normal range of every day dealings.  I don't often want to turn to my parents for help, but if there was ever a better case of let-an-adult-handle-it, then I haven't heard of it.

            But where in the Holy Heckfire am I?

            Looking down the road to my left, I see little aside from buildings and our city’s version of skyscrapers off in the distance.  Turning to my right there are more buildings (I know it’s North, but I’m not sure how I know that..), but nothing of exceptional height.  In the distance, a white light in the middle of the road catches my immediate attention.  It’s a really bright white light, and it’s growing quickly.    

            As I focus on the expanding light, the intensity of its whiteness becomes overpowering.  Even worse than the light is the cacophony of sound pouring forth from it which is beyond any noise I've ever endured.  Its existence just hurts, and all I can do is stare at it as it comes towards me.  The pain and confusion I feel  is overwhelming (What could possibly create this much light and noise on a normal city street?).  Water wells up in my eyes as it approaches.  I find myself starting to crouch lower to the ground for the comforting protection being in a ball brings me.

            As the thing passes in front of me, I can’t take the nearness of it and jump backwards to get some distance.  Not only does that single leap get some space between me and the mobile generator of the assault on my senses, but it is also enough to get me into the darkness and relative quiet of the alley.

            Ahhh, I think.  That’s so much better, but what was that thing? 

My brain had registered it as a car right before I had closed my eyes and propelled myself backwards, so I pause and review the image in my mind for a moment.  Black Caprice Classic.  It was a large behemoth of a vehicle that’s roughly the size of some trailer homes.  It had dark windows - tinted - with sparkly chrome and an abundance of gold accents covering it. 

And the sound?  It was music, but horrendously loud music - loud to the point of ridiculousness.

            And what was that last sound I had heard right after it passed me?  It had sounded like a high pitched bird call.  Or the squeal of a scared pig.  Or the screech of...

            Opening my eyes, I look down the alley.  Those were tires I had heard.  Tires screeching on pavement as brakes had locked them into place. 

            The mouth of the alley is a half dozen yards in front of me (How did that happen?  I had only jumped the one time, and I'd been sitting still since landing.), and now that I’m listening for it I can hear the circus of horrible sounds slowly getting closer to the street lamp at the mouth of the alley.

            The black Caprice Classic creeps into view moving backwards like an ominous, black brick.  The noise emanating from the automobile suddenly drops in level, and I can pick up other sounds.  Voices from inside the car trickle out.

They have to be yelling at each other, I think as I watch the ominous auto slide to a rest.  There’s no other way for me to hear them over the music from where I’m crouched.

            The voices aren’t raised, though.  I can’t make out what they’re saying, but I can tell there are three of them in the car.  I can also hear something in one of the voices (Curiosity?  Fear?), but I can’t quite make it out.

            The voices continue for another minute (One minute and thirty-five seconds to be exact, and again I don't use my watch to know that.), and then the back door opens and a tall, white-skinned twig of a man steps out and onto the sidewalk.  I stare at him for a moment as he gazes directly at me in the alley.  Leaning back towards the open door, he says, "Fine, you stay in the car.  I'm going."

            He slams the car door (a painfully loud blast to my ears), turns back toward me and grins.