A Stranger on Bay Street

"Paul Carhart has done it again. A Stranger On Bay Street is a fun quick read. The Stranger is a fascinating concept, and one that I am looking forward to reading more adventures from! Carhart’s writing style always makes for a fast read and this one was no exception!"

– Rick Bentsen, author of The Blademaster

A Stranger on Bay Street

A Worlds Collide novel

Paul M. Carhart

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 Paul M. Carhart

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

A Stranger on Bay Street is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

Except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, no part of this book may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without written permission from the publisher.

This book is available in print from paulcarhart.com.

Discover other titles by Paul M.Carhart at Smashwords.com:

Novels:

One of the Girls by Paul M. Carhart

Chance for the Future by Paul M. Carhart

Hope for Tomorrow by Paul M. Carhart

Faith in the Past by Paul M. Carhart

Nonfiction:

Zooming Thru Life by Paul M. Carhart

Be not forgetful

to entertain strangers:

for thereby some have

entertained angels unawares.

Hebrews 13:2, KJV

C o n t e n t s

Chapter 1: Release

Chapter 2: Decisions

Chapter 3: Mission Accomplished

Chapter 4: The Stranger’s Assignment

Chapter 5: Clean Slate

Chapter 6: The Interloper

Chapter 7: Transitions

Chapter 8: Thorne in the Side

Chapter 9: Alliance

Chapter 10: Warning

Chapter 11: Revelations

Chapter 12: Contact

Chapter 13: Ringers

Chapter 14: Cut to the Quick

Chapter 15: Repositioning

Chapter 16: Crisis Point

Chapter 17: Into the Night

Chapter 18: Acceptance

Chapter 19: Assault at Bay Street

Chapter 20: Call To Action

Chapter 21: Onslaught

Chapter 22: The Era Ends

Chapter 23: Reinforcements

Chapter 24: Chaff in the Wind

Chapter 25: The Sound of Music

Chapter 26: Shaking the Branches

Chapter 27: Showdown

Chapter 28: Destiny Charted

Chapter 29: The Stranger Moves On

Chapter 30: Justice Served

Excerpt from Planetfall

About the author

Chapter One

Release

She has broken free.

How free? Niu asked. Although the conversation had just started, Niu didn’t like where it was going.

Free enough to cause concern, Ptah replied from his earthen throne. Flames smoldered somewhere behind the dais and the scent of sulfer filled the room.

Have they dispatched the usual drones?

Ptah nodded. They have. And they’ve been intercepted.

Niu stepped closer. So, how long?

Not very. I was alerted as soon as she bolted.

Niu rubbed his chin. Determined, isn’t she?

Misled, to be sure. With a sniff, Ptah spat off to the side. And annoying. You know what must be done?

Niu let slip a greasy smile. I’ve been through this many times.

Perhaps. Still, we are at war. Watch yourself. No slip ups, Niu.

With a flourish, Niu stepped back and bowed. My lord, when have I ever let you down?

There have been a few times. Don’t make me recount them. Still, you seem to have learned your lessons. This is your big chance. Don’t allow yourself to be sidetracked. You have one goal. Bring her back into the fold. Prove to me that my faith has not been misplaced.

As you wish, my lord.

Chapter Two

Decisions

Noel Gilchrist was not in her right mind.

That was the only explanation.

She had always been the black sheep of the family but that wasn’t the problem this time.

Things were different. And they had been for months.

She sat upright in her bed. The covers were loose. Clay wasn’t there.

Noel wasn’t surprised.

The clock said three-twelve in the morning.

She slipped her feet off the bed and snapped on the headboard lamp.

Unlike Clay, the plastic bottle was still there.

It called out to her.

See? Not in my right mind.

Noel picked up the amber bottle. She pressed down on the safety tab and twisted off the cap.

It was empty.

The bottle laughed at her.

She threw it as hard as she could. The bottle bounced off of the wall and rolled to a stop at her feet.

It glared at her.

Tears streaked down Noel’s lightly freckled face. She stopped them with her arm, her gaze never leaving the bottle.

What’s it going to do next? Back flips?

Of course not. It was an inanimate object.

Then why did she think of it as a living entity?

Because I’m addicted.

It was a painful revelation.

She rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. The signs had always been there. She would have seen them in anyone else. She was the doctor, after all. She knew the dangers.

But she wasn’t susceptible to addiction like others.

Of course, that had been a lie. She should have known better. She should never have trusted Clay.

Now she was painfully aware of her condition. She was going through withdrawal.

And she had a choice to make.

She could go back to the drugs. After all, it was easy enough for her to obtain them. Or she could make a clean break.

She glanced down at her open hand. The bottle was sitting in her palm. Had she picked it up? Inside, she could spy two pills. Where had they come from? Hadn’t she been out?

She blinked.

I’m not thinking straight.

She stood up. The bottle plummeted to the floor.

She shuffled into the bathroom. An unkempt woman in a sweaty nightshirt glared back at her from the mirror. She hated what she saw. Red-rimmed bloodshot eyes with dark circles under them obscured the deep blue she had grown accustomed to over the years. Her lips were dry and cracking. Her red hair was like a haystack and her normally light complexion had taken on the pallor of a corpse.

Who am I anymore?

Noel didn’t have a ready answer.

She heard the clicking of the front door latch. A rush of cold air indicated that the door had creeped open.

She returned to the bedroom. The bottle was on the bed, beckoning her to join it.

Noel? Are you up, honey?

Clay.

The bottle smiled at her.

It was two against one. There was no one on her side. Not even the bottle.

Of course, it had never been on her side.

But she knew, if she remained, she would always be a slave.

Noel shrugged on her robe and stumbled over to the window.

Noel? Clay’s persuasive voice was now accompanied by his footfalls. Babe? Are you okay?

She threw open the window. The cold night air stung her face and snapped her out of her stupor.

Three stories separated her from freedom.

She climbed into the window frame. But in order to take hold, she had to put down the bottle.

The bottle? How did…?

She flung it aside and crept down the side of the apartment building. Her hands found purchase in the ivy that adorned the whole east wall of the complex. Before she could blink, she was on the ground.

She took off toward the alley, her bare feet scraping against the loose pebbles alongside the road.

Noel? she heard Clay call into the night. Where are you going?

It was a good question. One she didn’t really have the answer to. Her parents had been dead for five years. She had no siblings and she had alienated any friends and extended family she had over a year ago when they had all tried to warn her about Clay.

She should have listened to them.

Now she was acting purely on instinct. All she knew was that she had to get away from Clay. Had she thought her escape through, she would have at least brought her phone with her.

But she hadn’t. She had no phone numbers. No friends. No family. There was no one to turn to but Clay.

I can’t allow myself to go back. No matter what. If it kills me, I’ve got to break the tie once and for all. I’ve got to be free!

And that meant turning her back on Clay. Perhaps the only man who had ever really loved her.

Another lie! If he had really loved her, he wouldn’t have used her. He wouldn’t have encouraged her to take the drugs.

He had never had her best interests at heart!

She turned the corner into the alley.

And stumbled over a man who was wearing a trench coat and little else. His face broke into a toothless grin while he clawed at her arm.

Noel tugged herself free and staggered off down the alley.

You oughta be more careful, the man cackled.

She increased her pace.

And huffed to a stop a few blocks later where the alley opened up onto Bay Street. There was very little traffic this time of night – or morning – depending on your viewpoint.

Noel was tired. She wanted to just sit down on the sidewalk and cry herself to sleep. But Clay would be coming. He wouldn’t let her just walk away. He needed her, after all. She was more than his lover. She was his source.

Her feet were sore. She glanced down at them and was surprised to see that they were quite bloody. She hadn’t expected asphalt to do that. Perhaps she had stumbled through broken glass without knowing it. Perhaps she should take something for the pain.

In her right hand was the bottle.

She swallowed once and licked her lips. Then she screwed her eyes shut and dashed the bottle against the street. It clattered over the pavement, a sound that echoed back down the alley.

She limped across the road, heading east. The neighborhood was getting worse but Noel remembered hearing that one of her med school classmates had once volunteered at a clinic on Bay Street. Maybe she could find him. If so, maybe he could help her.

It was at least worth a shot.

She spied a friendly sign. Soul’s Harbor Mission. She sighed. It probably wasn’t where her classmate had his clinic but that was beside the point. Surely she could find refuge there.

As she hobbled closer to the mission’s double oak doors, five men stepped out of the night. All of them wore similar colors.

Noel stopped. She considered turning around but it was too late. Besides, there was nowhere else to go but back to Clay.

I’ll take my chances.

If you don’t mind… she stammered, her voice trembling.

The lead thug, a black man with a goatee and tattoos on his arms, had a thick laugh. I don’t think so, he snickered, looking her up and down. The others laughed with him as they fanned out, surrounding her.

Noel now wished she had worn more than a nightshirt and a bathrobe. She pulled the robe tight around herself.

We were just out looking for some fun, the Hispanic one chuckled.

And there you were, another black man – this one scrawny – finished with a whistle.

Noel fought to control her shaking. Please. You don’t want to hurt me in front of the mission, do you?

Hear that? the leader asked. She thinks there’s something sacred or something about Bay Street.

They all laughed at that.

Noel took a step back. Maybe going back to Clay wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Another Hispanic man, this one with a shaven head, slipped behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. Going somewhere?

Noel jumped. She slapped at his hand but he slipped another beneath her robe.

She scratched him across his stubbly face.

The world was silent for several seconds.

You shouldn’t have done that, Shavenhead rasped.

Noel bit her lip and stepped away from him, only to find that his friends had closed the gaps through which she might have earlier escaped.

When we are done with you, the leader snarled, you will be all used up.

Noel wondered if Clay would find her. Indeed, now she hoped he would.

Two of the men took her arms at the elbow. Noel squirmed but she couldn’t break their hold. Two more each took an ankle. They pulled her horizontal, suspending her over the street. She continued to struggle but the men were too much for her.

The leader stepped up between her bare legs. A switchblade sung out, the blade glinting from the streetlights. Oh yes, he chuckled.

It was the last thing he said.

There was a crunch and his eyes went wide. A gasp escaped his slackened jaw.

Noel turned her head away but she had already seen too much. A huge silver blade stood erect, protruding from his chest. The gang leader shimmered and then disintegrated, coating her in ash.

She sneezed.

A disheveled man in a stained trench coat held the sword aloft with both hands. Anyone else want to dishonor this young lady? He had at least three days worth of blonde stubble and he sported a black knit cap that came down low on his forehead, completely covering his hair.

Immediately, Noel was free, scrambling across the ground.

But she was surprised to see that, instead of running, the thugs were now surrounding her rescuer.

Man, you killed our friend, one of them declared.

The swordsman shifted positions, bringing his huge weapon to bear. You should keep better company.

You should mind your own business, Scrawny whined.

I always do.

Nuh uh, Man. This has nothing to do with you.

Perhaps from your perspective.

Shavenhead feinted to the left and then leapt at Noel’s savior.

The swordsman was quick. He slipped to the side and flipped his sword around and down, blade