The Clearwater Chronicles (Book 1): Shadows in the Light

by David Barton

  The Clearwater Chronicles

  Book 1

  Shadows In The Light

  30/06/2014 AM

  The dark peaceful world of sleep was cut in half by a shrill beeping from my alarm clock. My arm, half-asleep, flung out from under my cover. Hitting the side table but no alarm clock. I pulled my head off the pillow and half-opened an eye. My side table came into my blurry view but there was no alarm clock sitting there.

  I twisted on my single bed getting tangled in my cover. My ears followed the beeping noise until I saw it sitting on the sink in my bathroom. Then the memory of moving it came to me from the night before. The decision to move the thing was to make sure I wasn’t late for work again. It had happened three times last week. It was Monday and I had planned to start this week on a good day.

  This clearly wasn’t the case since I had set my alarm half a hour before I needed to be there. I slipped out from under the cover and sat at the edge of the bed. Looking at the noise box staring back at me with its red numbers.

  I blew out a long breath and prepared to stand up but that’s when I saw my pile of clothes from last night. My shoe sat next to my foot. My mind toyed with the idea of getting up when a plan popped out.

  I lazily grabbed the shoe and flung it into the bathroom. It bounced on the floor and came to rest by the bottom of the sink. I put it down to my sleepy arm and grabbed the other shoe. Putting more effort into this throw. I watched it fly through the air until it connected with the plastic box. I smiled as it tumbled to the floor and cracked on the tiles. I fell back onto the bed. Not bothering to climb back under the cover. Already half-asleep again.

  When my eyes opened again I looked around my room. Then I looked into the bathroom and saw the pieces of my alarm clock. Now not being able to read the time I rolled over and grabbed my phone from the bedside table.

  Pushing the button at the bottom the time appeared. That’s when the sleep was driven away by alarm. I was already half a hour late and I lived twenty minutes away. I cursed my lazy arse in my head and jumped out of bed. Grabbing the clothes from the bedroom floor that I had worn yesterday and chucked them on. I ran into the bathroom stabbing the sole of my foot on my alarm clock.

  I licked my hand and tried to sort out the hair sticking up at an awkward angle. It wasn’t working so I gave up and ran to the front door. Grabbing my wallet, keys and throwing my feet into some trainers.

  I tossed my head through my shoulder bag’s strap and left the apartment. The door locking by itself as it slammed shut. I was down the first two flights of stairs when I was stopped by the old man who owned the building. “Where is the rent?”

  I dug my hand into my pocket and handed over a small bag full of coins. “There it is.” Before he could look down and realise I had given him my laundry money for this week I bolted. Taken the last flight of stairs two steps at a time and I was out the door.

  I hit the crowded pavement like a car in traffic. Trying to dodge in and out of people. The amount of pedestrians made my usual twenty minute walk into a twenty-five minute jog. I finally burst through the double doors and into the seventy-six year old security guard.

  I bounced back off the gut that rolled over his belt. “Easy going, Ryan.”

  “Sorry Earl.”

  “Running late again? I thought you were going to try harder?”

  “I know but my alarm clock broke.” The image of my alarm clock sitting on my bathroom floor in pieces popped into my head. Technically it wasn’t a lie.

  “You’ll have to come up with a better excuse than that if you want to keep your job.”

  “Cheers for the bleak reality.”

  “Just so you know your boss is already on the war path.”

  I started my way past him, “What’s happened?”

  “I’ll let it be a surprise when you get up there.”

  “Cheers.” I turned and almost hit the second security guard. This one wasn’t out of shape. He was broad and full of muscle. This was accented by his tight shirt. If I had run into him like I did Earl, I would have been knocked out by one of his rock hard pecks.

  “Security tag?” His face was like stone, emotionless.

  I opened my bag but I could see the mental image of my tag sitting by my door. “It’s in here somewhere I’m sure.” I was racking my brains for an excuse or a way out of this situation but it wasn’t working. “I know I put it in my bag.” My eyes went over his giant shoulder to see if I could see anyone to help but there was no one I recognised.

  “I can’t let you in without seeing your identification tag.” He placed a massive hand on my shoulder and was getting ready to escort me out of the building.

  “He’s okay. I know him. He works up at the paper.” Earl’s soft voice was a nice change from the monotone statue in front of me. “Let him through and he’ll promise to bring it in tomorrow. Won’t you Ryan.”

  I turned and smiled, “If I don’t get fired today.”

  “Won’t be so funny if it really happens.” I nodded to Earl the as the monster of a security guard stepped out the way. I walked through the little scanner and was happy that my day didn’t get worse with the sound of it going off.

  My trainers made an annoying squeak on the shiny floor as I rushed towards the elevators at the back. I ducked, dodged and dived between people but as I got to the pinging doors there was no space left for me. A guy smiled smugly as the doors shut and they started their ascent to their offices.

  I twisted around and started making my way to the stairs. Already tired from the jog over here and I had fifteen flights of stairs to scale. I wasn’t unfit but I had only been awake for a half hour and I hadn’t even been able to grab breakfast in that time. I would really need to nip this lateness in the butt before I did lose my job.

  Leaping up the stairs I came out of the door and into the reception area of my paper. There was black brick everywhere with covers of the most popular stories sitting in frames. The woman with a headset sat behind a small desk. The place didn’t look as posh as the rest of the building but the space had been paid for many years ago by the original owner. His son sued to own the paper but he then ran it into the ground and was then brought out by my boss.

  Over the last seven years this man has brought the paper almost back to its original glory. Now the third most popular paper in this city. The chief always gets asked why he hasn’t updated the look of the office. He simply says he prefers it this way.

  I made my way over the grey carpet towards the receptionist. The plan was to hit on her but I was cut off by a loud booming voice. My heart sank as soon as I heard the voice. “You’re late, again!”

  I looked away from the pretty lady and saw the man standing in the arch that led into the rest of the office. “Look, my alarm clock is broken and the pavement was covered in people. I found it hard to get here on time.”

  “I’m going to stop you there before you try and talk your way out of this. Come into my office before you can think up anything that’s actually good.”

  “Yes, sir.” The man wearing the coffee stained shirt and creased trousers turned around and marched off to his office. I smiled at the receptionist who seemed to be holding back laughter.

  Everyone was looking my way as I entered the main office. The walk through was painful and seemed like I was walking to the noose. I looked into the corner cubicle where my friend works but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I doubt he had been late as well. It hadn’t happened yet. Not even one day.

  I saw my editor standing in his office. The wall of glass not hiding the stern expression on his face. As soon as my foot hit the
different coloured carpet of his office I went on the attack. “Look, sir. I…..”

  His tone cut me off like a knife. “Shut the door and sit down. More importantly, shut up.”

  “Yes, sir.” Like a good little boy I shut the door and took a seat in front of his desk.

  “Before I tend to the situation of you being late, yet again. Why don’t you just hand them over now and we can get it out the way.”

  “Huh?”

  “You know what, you’re an expert at the gormless look but you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  I did know and his tone told me he wasn’t about to take me serious. It wouldn’t be the first time either. I dug my hand into my shoulder bag and pulled out the articles I had written. He snatched them from my hand. “More articles involving your theory that the city is full of superheroes.”

  “If you took the time to read the articles properly, you will notice that I have evidence.”

  “Evidence?” He made a snorting noise. “Evidence isn’t quotes from crazy people that believe they’ve something strange. More than likely drug addicts who have hallucinated something whilst on one of their highs.”

  “It’s not like that, if you gave me a chance I can prove that I’m right about this.”

  “I’ve given you plenty of chances. The most recent was the Friday just gone when you came in late. Do you remember what I said?”

  “Yes.” I blew out a frustrated breath.

  “What did I say?”

  The old man stared at me, his face looking like a bull who had just cornered a matador and was preparing to impale him. “You said that if I was late again, I would lose my job.”

  “That is correct.” He opened a draw in his desk and produced a piece of paper.

  “What’s this?”

  “This is a form that will release you from your contract in return for a freelancing job.”

  “You’re kidding. You know I need this job. I’m already behind on rent by a few months. I don’t think me teaching the old man how to cook will keep him from kicking me out.”

  “That’s not my problem. I’m trying to run a business here. I know you like you’re job and I’m not saying you’re bad at it. In fact, you’re one of the best photographers in the city. The problem is, you’re not reliable. I’ve been waiting on the photos for the hot dog vendors article for days now.”

  “That is a boring article that no one will read and plus, I have the rest of the week to get them to you.”

  “No, you don’t. Those photos were for the issue that came out today. I needed them before the weekend, not after.”

  “Oh.” This was getting worse. I had never missed a deadline before. “It’s just with my spare time I’ve…”

  “Been chasing silly articles about superheroes.” He picked up the articles I had spent all night writing up and slipped them through the shredder that he loved to use for useless articles presented to him. I watched as they slid down, being cut into unreadable pieces.

  “So, what happens now?” My gut had just opened up and swallowed my heart. I had no idea what was going to happen to me. I couldn’t move into a smaller apartment because I could only just fit into the one I have now.

  “Now, you keep your ear to the ground and I’ll keep you posted on stories. You get some photos you think I can use, bring them in and I’ll pay you. I suggest you use your time with your camera, not chasing superheroes.”

  “Okay. I’ll clear out my desk.”

  “Don’t do that, stick around for the day. Clear it out once everyone has gone. I like you kid, you just need better direction. Maybe look into a different career that involves photography.”

  “Sure, know any hot chicks that would love to be photographed naked?”

  “Just your mother.”

  My jaw would have dropped off if it hadn’t been attached. “That is a low blow and you better steer clear of my mum. I don’t want to have to beat up my boss.” The words came out and mixed with the recent news of losing my position at the paper. “Do I still call you my boss?”

  “As long as you bring in good photos and I hand over money, then you can call me boss. Until I become your father.” He smiled, a husky laugh coming out of his tarred lungs.

  “You know, you’re not old enough to escape me kicking your arse.”

  “I think I can take a scrawny kid like you.”

  “You wish.” We sat there and laughed. He might have just ripped me a new one and demoted me but it was hard to stay angry at him. After all, I had known him a long time now. He actually almost seemed like a father. At least a father figure.

  I stood up and went to walk out. Harvey coughed, bringing my attention back to him. “You actually have to sign it first. The contract.”

  “Oh, right. The contract.” I picked a pen out of his pot and scribbled my signature along the bottom. “What do I tell people?”

  “Tell them what you want. It’s completely up to you.”

  “Thanks.” He stood and shook my hand. His grip almost crushing mine before I exited out of the office. I walked over to my cubicle like a zombie. Walking, saying hi to random people but not registering anything. This was my only job I had ever had. Straight out of school and into photography. It had been the whole point of taking the subject at school.

  I had thought it was seven years well spent but it may have been a waste of time now. This realisation came to me when I saw my cubicle. I had sworn it hadn’t gotten this bad but the evidence was right in front of me.

  The three walls of my cubicle were covered in newspaper clippings expressing a miraculous situation that I had put down to a superhero. Rough sketches of what I think they could look. Drafts of my own articles that were now sitting at the bottom of Harvey’s shredder.

  They covered so much space that my computer was almost disappearing behind them. I sat down in my squeaky chair and flipped the machine on. Whilst it booted up I pulled the memory cards out of my bag and lined them on the desk. I watched the loading screen, waiting for the old age computer to get to the desktop.

  “What was that all about?” The sweet voice made me jump.

  I looked up to see a head covered in long, wavy brunette hair. Her face had a hint of makeup but not too much. She looked beautiful without it, especially with the cute smile she currently wore. “Hi, Felicity. Nothing important.”

  “Shredding more of your ideas?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Maybe you should stick to taking photos.”

  “That’s what I’m told.” I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I watched as her head bobbing over my cubicle walls until she came into view. She was wearing a very professional suit with a white frilly blouse. Most of her hair was pulled back in a ponytail leaving a few strands hanging beside her face.

  Her eyes drop to the memory cards on my desk. “Are you busy?”

  I thought about saying something really cheesy to lead up to asking her out on the date but just like the last fifteen times, I bottled it. “Just about to go through my memory cards. See if there are any photos that Harvey will want.”

  She vanished back to her cubicle and came back with her own squeaky chair. She positioned herself to my left as I slipped the first memory card into the reader. The computer automatically loaded them up and spread them over the screen in the special program I had downloaded.

  My eyes scanned them trying to remember what articles they were for. None popped into mind. I really needed to get my life in order. “That one’s nice.”

  “Which one?” Suddenly I felt her warm palm on top of my hand. I froze as she directed the cursor to the picture she liked and enlarged the image. “Where did you take it?”

  “I was on top of the Henrikson building.”

  “Isn’t that something like one hundred storeys up?”

  “Something like that. One hundred and three I think.”

  “That’s crazy.” She leant in closer to the screen, her hair falling over her shoulder and bru
shing my neck. It sent shivers down my spine and back up. “The island is huge and yet you can see all the way to the water.”

  “Yeah, there are the docks on the south side.” I tapped the screen.

  “Wow. You should hand this in.”

  “For what article. We don’t do too many about how beautiful the city looks.”

  “I don’t know. Harvey could just use it as a picture. Who says it needs an article.”

  “I guess.”

  “Come on, promise you’ll do it. I’d hate for you to lose your job.”

  I turned to her, her face closer than I thought it was. Our eyes met and I thought I felt something. Then she backed away and sat back in her chair. “You’d hate me to lose my job?”

  “Yeah, all the other photographers suck. Who else’s photos am I supposed to look at?”

  If I’m so good why did I just lose my job? “I’m sure Harvey would hire someone just as good.” I turned back to the computer and switched out the memory card for a new one. The program popped up and the boxes were filled with photos. But there weren’t any. All the photos were just pitch black. “What the hell?”

  “Maybe it’s empty.”

  “If it was empty it wouldn’t have brought up the program.” Then my mind went into overdrive. I checked the date on the card that was sticking out of the wireless card reader. Then I cast my memory back to that particular date. I didn’t know why, I found it hard to remember what I had for breakfast last Monday. This date was last month.

  “Maybe the card was damaged.”

  “No, it’s something else.”

  “Don’t start going off on one of your rants about how someone has tampered with your stuff so you don’t find out the truth.”

  I looked at her. “Have I done that before?”

  “I would have to remove my shoes to count how many times.”

  “Oh.” I pulled the memory card out of the reader and looked at it. Along the edge the metal strips were fine apart from one of them.

  “See, it’s broken.”

  “Okay, this time I was wrong.”

  “This time? Every time so far.”

  “So far.”