Prologue
Samuel’s gaze was fixed on the black ocean before him. It was like liquid obsidian. He was mesmerized as the foamy, white crests of the waves peaked and seemingly turned silver in the pale moonlight. Then, they would suddenly collapse into the dark water below as if they had given up on their efforts to grow. Samuel heaved a sigh as one of the waves crashed. What was he doing here? How had he fallen so far from the perfect path that had stretched before him his entire life? He had been like a wave. Rising, rising, rising to greatness. Then - CRASH!
Rock bottom.
Samuel shuddered. “Get outta my head,” he mumbled to the voice which ruled his subconscious - though apparently it had decided it would now rule his conscious too. It was a voice he knew well.
Rock bottom.
His father’s voice. The man who had taken such interest in his future. Sending him to the best schools. Getting him the most excellent tutors when he struggled in a subject, though that never happened much.
“You’re a bright kid, Sammy,” his father would tell him as he puffed his cigar.
“Really, dad?” Samuel would look up at his father with bright, adoring eyes.
“Damned straight,” his father replied, blowing out a thick ring of smoke.
Samuel scoffed at this memory. “Oh yeah, I’m bright alright. Bright enough to get myself into this mess.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Why was he here?
Rock bottom, son. Don’t ever let me catch you there.
His father had told him this as he read an article in newspaper about a colleague of his who had lost everything he had through gambling, alcohol, etc. “‘Stress,’ Bart said. Ha! If he thought his job was stressful, try being the C.E.O. of this company!” Malcolm Blake had laughed at his former friend. Then he looked over at his son. “Sammy, that’s what happens when you can’t handle the business world. Or when you don’t take it seriously enough. Or when you can’t handle the dough that comes with it. Or whatever the hell else these shmucks come up to try to justify their failure. Point is, Sammy, they all hit rock bottom,” his father had looked at him sternly, “Rock bottom, son. Don’t ever let me catch you there.”
A small crab scuttled along the sand near him. Samuel stared at it then suddenly felt rage flash through him. With a yell, he gave the crab a hard kick and sent it flying.
“Samuel!” a mockingly stern voice said behind him, “You should know better than to kick innocent beach life.” Samuel stiffened and clenched his teeth. He turned and disdainfully surveyed the man before him.
He was a few inches shorter than Samuel, but then again, so is everyone when you’re 6”6. The man’s black hair was slicked back with an excessive amount of gel. He had dark eyes which had a conniving and almost evil shine in them. Samuel hated that look. He hated this man.
“Well, Samuel?” the man questioned jokingly in his deep, smooth voice, “Aren’t you going to greet me?”
Samuel only folded his arms and stared at the man with contempt.
The man’s playful mood diminished and he raised his eyebrow.
“Samuel,” his voice was stern, “I would think you would show me a bit of respect. After all, I can easily terminate your position with Black Stone.”
Samuel dropped his arms and clenched his fists. “Hello Marcus,” he spat.
Marcus smiled smugly. “That’s better then.”
Samuel thrust his hands into his pockets. Marco spoke again.
“Samuel, I’m glad you met me here. I-”
“You didn’t give me a choice,” Samuel interrupted.
Marcus gave him a warning look. Samuel only shrugged. Marcus continued.
“Your assignment has finally come in,” Marcus said, “Black Stone needs you now.”
Samuel looked up from the sand he had been kicking around with his foot. he raised an eyebrow. “You need me, eh?” he smiled.
Marcus did not seem to be amused. “‘Need’ is relative,” he replied.
No comments:
Post a Comment