Book Two in the It Happened Series is set in Gastown, an area of Vancouver, British Columbia. It’s appropriately titled – It Happened in Gastown.
This book features Erik Layne (Serenity’s brother from It Happened on Dufferin Terrace.) It’s also my project for NaNoWriMo 2018, but life got in the way and I won’t get my 50K words written before the end of the month, but I thought I would share the opening scene.
Keep in mind, this is a first draft and the premise behind NaNo is to write, not edit.
Here it is…
Out on routine patrol, Constables Hilary Dunbar and her partner Nik Kalivas proceeded along Cambie Street towards the Steam Clock. As they passed the end of Blood Alley, she shouted, “Back up. There’s something down there.”
“Your imagination getting the better of you again?” He teased, but pulled over to the curb and slowly reversed until they blocked the end of the narrow passage.
Window down, she trained the beam from the powerful spotlight mounted on the cruiser’s mirror into the alleyway. “There, beyond those dumpsters.”
“Likely just garbage.”
“Wait here, I’m going to take a closer look.”
Flashlight clutched in her left hand and fingertips of her right brushing her gun holster, she crept towards the object. Graffiti tags covered the walls of the buildings. The further into the confined space she crept, her neck hairs bristled beneath the bun she tied her black hair into. Whatever it was, it wasn’t trash like Nik said. The pong of stale urine brought tears to her eyes.
Past the second dumpster, the body of a young man leaned against the wall. Disheveled and filthy, his body odour was strong enough to make the foulest of skunk spray seem mild. At first glance he appeared dead. Hilary inched forward and squatted beside him. A blood-filled syringe protruded from his left arm. Immediately, she felt his neck for a pulse. It was there but extremely weak.
She keyed the mic on her handset. “Constable Dunbar, Badge 8652. I need an ambulance at Blood Alley and Cambie Street. Suspected drug overdose.”
By now, Nik had the cruiser’s roof lights on. Blue, red and white alternating then running from the driver’s side to the passenger’s.
The wail of the siren grew louder. In minutes, paramedics jumped out and trundled a stretcher and medical equipment to the stricken person.
Hilary stood back, letting them do their jobs.
“He’s alive … just. You found him in time. We’ve bagged the needle so they can run tests on it at the hospital. Figure out what he shot into his veins.”
They loaded the stretcher into the back, pulled a U-turn and raced off in the direction of Vancouver General.
“Looks like we’re off to the hospital,” she said dropping into her seat and fastening the belt.
“Great. More wasted time and a ton of paperwork because of a drug addict,” Nik complained.
“That drug addict is someone’s kid,” she snapped.
“Ooh… aren’t we touchy? Turning soft are you? Biological clock ticking?”
I’d love to hear what you think. Let me know by leaving a comment.
