Sample Chapters from "War Angel III"

To all of my readers, thanks for patiently waiting for the release of the finale to my "War Angel" trilogy. I've been working diligently on it...I promise. As proof, here are two sample chapters to give you a sense of where the story picks up in "War Angel III: Catalina." Enjoy. 

        - Keith Kareem Williams

Prologue

  

All morning, Prince the Housecat had been stealthily stalking his prey as he crept through the tall, green, grass in the same manner that his much larger cousin, the lion, would have. Normally, on most days, Prince would have been content to harass bugs or hunt down field mice but that day, he was after a victim that was much harder to catch.

Early morning rain had soaked the soil enough to make earthworms slither to the surface and it was only a matter of time before a bird swooped down to snatch one of them in its beak so he kept his body close to the ground and waited. It wasn’t long before a bird showed up to pay attention to one of the pale treats that writhed and twisted in the mud. Prince’s whiskers twitched while he waited and watched the bird, perched on a tree limb as it prepared to fly down to claim one of the pink, meaty earthworms. Prince’s shoulders tensed and his body prepared to pounce as the bird he had been hunting prepared to make its move.

In one, amazingly graceful, lightning-quick motion, the little bird dive-bombed towards the ground on small wings and snatched the worm out of the damp soil with its stubby beak. However, instead of flying back to the safety of the tree to enjoy its meal, it began to devour its victim while remaining on the ground. Before it even knew what was happening, the little bird found itself trapped in feline jaws, pierced by the cat’s sharp teeth.

“Let it go now!” shouted a little girl as she ran barefoot across the lawn towards the cat on stumpy, chubby, five-year-old legs.

Every ounce of natural, feline instincts within Prince screamed for him to run off with his fine-feathered prize locked tightly in his jaws but there was something even stronger in the little girl’s tiny voice that was powerful enough to make him reluctantly let the bird fall from his mouth onto the ground. Dejected and disappointed, he let out a somber meow and sauntered away to find some other creature to stalk.

Tears streamed down the little girl’s plump, chocolate cheeks as she fell to her knees in front of the tiny bird’s motionless body. The same summer breeze that rustled through the blades of lush, green grass also blew through her thick, bushy hair that was pulled back into a messy, fluffy ponytail. Her dad didn’t know how to braid and he wasn’t very skilled at keeping her hair neat either but, he did the best he could. Very gently, she picked up the bird and put it in her lap, using the folds of her summer dress as a tiny bed.”

“Wake up little bird. Wake up little thing,” she whispered over and over again but, it was as dead as dead could be.

“What’s wrong? I heard you yelling,” the little girl’s dad asked as he came running out of the house and across the front yard towards her.

He looked around cautiously and on edge as if he expected killers to leap out of nowhere to attack them. Once he was sure that they were alone, he relaxed and walked closer to her. As he stood behind his precious baby girl, his tall, imposing frame blocked the sunlight and cast a long shadow. He kept his right hand behind his back so that she wouldn’t see the chrome, cannon of a revolver that he held in it.

“The bad kitty tried to eat the bird,” the distraught toddler explained to her father.

“Well, he is a cat and that’s what cats do,” he answered, sounding slightly amused.

“It’s not moving Daddy!”

He peered over her shoulder to see for himself. “I think it’s dead little mama.”

“But its eyes are open.”

“Yes, but it’s not moving, or breathing. I’m pretty sure that it’s gone baby.”

“Gone? Gone where?” she asked, her inquisitive eyes wet with tears.

“Gone to where all things that die go, I suppose. Most people believe that place is heaven,” he explained, purposely failing to mention the other place, figuring it best to keep her five year-old mind free of a concept so morbid and grim.

“Can it ever come back?”

“No baby, I don’t believe it can.”

“But that’s not right. That’s not fair,” she wept.

“No, it isn’t, but that’s how life is lil mama. Everything that lives, eventually dies, one way or another.”

“But why? Why does it have to be like that?”

“You know, I’m not entirely sure but, I do believe that there’s a bigger plan that none of us who live, and eventually die, can ever fully understand. I’d be lying if I said that I have answers but, one thing that I do know is this…once the time comes when we have to deal with death, whether we like it or not, we have to learn to let go,” he tried to explain.

“Have you ever let go of my mama?” she asked.

Her question had caught him totally off guard and he fumbled for the right answer to give her. What she had asked was a simple thing but the truth was more complicated than even he could properly explain.

“Honestly, I don’t think that I have,” he finally answered after a long, awkward pause.

“Do you ever think that you will?”

Again, he remained silent for a few moments before he decided on an answer that he hoped would satisfy his daughter’s inquisitive mind.

“No, I don’ think that I ever will. I don’t think I could ever, even if I tried.”

“So, love is stronger than death?” she asked.

“it might be,” he answered sadly. “Bury your little bird and meet me inside the house for breakfast lil mama. I’m making your favorite, strawberry pancakes,” he said as he turned away and walked back towards their house.

Once her father was gone and she was alone with the dead bird, she closed her eyes and cried as her heart became overwhelmed by the kind of deep sorrow that people often drowned in. Then, something very strange happened. A presence that she couldn’t see or quite describe spoke to her, not with words but with feelings. She listened and somehow understood what that presence was saying to her. She even managed to answer it. A tingling sensation coursed through her body and suddenly, the dead bird in her lap began to twitch. As she watched in awe of the miracle that was taking place, it came to life, flapped its wings and flew away. She giggled as she watched it disappear into the distance. Then she got up off her knees as if nothing unusual had just happened and skipped merrily towards her house to have strawberry pancakes with her dad.

CHAPTER 1

Candles & Cake

“Today marks the sixteenth anniversary of a series of grisly murders that rocked this community in quiet, upstate New York. After over a decade of investigations, law enforcement officials have yet to piece together exactly what happened or who was behind these acts of violence which shook this otherwise peaceful community to its core…” said the news anchor on the old television set mounted on the wall behind the counter inside Bradshaw’s Bakery.

“I’m sorry about the mistake with the spelling earlier mister. It’s kind of an unusual name. We’re used to Becky’s and Mary’s and Jane’s,” apologized Brenda, the assistant manager on duty. She had the kind of rosy, plump cheeks that were always red and made it seem as if she was always blushing. She put the cake down gently on the counter with the box open so that he could see that they had corrected their mistake.

“Thanks. No worries, we all make mistakes,” he answered.

“Awesome. Now, do you need any candles? I mean, what’s a birthday cake without candles, right?” she asked as she closed the box and tied it up skillfully with red and white string.

“Actually, I do,” he answered.

“Awesome. How many do you need? We have all kinds,” she said, pointing to the display rack right next to the counter. It was filled with a wide assortment of candles in their little vacuum-formed plastic packages.

“Can I have sixteen of the pink and white ones?” he asked.

“Awww, that’s awesome. A sweet sixteen is a really big deal for a girl,” said Brenda as she put the candles on the counter and rang up his total on the cash register. “Here you go mister,” she said as she handed him the receipt with his total.

He paid, smiled politely and left the bakery with his cake and candles.

Brenda thought that there was something mysterious and intriguing about the quiet, dark-skinned man. He was very handsome and his smile was charming but it was the sadness in his dreamy, dark brown eyes that fascinated her. She couldn’t help but wonder how he had gotten the scar that ran down the entire right side of his face, from just above his eyebrow all the way down to his cheek. If he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, she might have even flirted with him but dating married men was not her cup of tea.