EXCERPT

Adam Kessler hated working graves, especially in this part of town. The people here seemed more dead than alive. And every other building was a burned-out husk, falling prey to time and
shadows. He couldn’t help but wonder why the Captain had put him on this
particular detail of all things.

                “He’s a Black guy, big…almost too big. He’s been seen on and around 14th street,” the Captain said, handing Adam a sliver of paper. “Call this number if you spot
him. No radios. I’ll bring backup.”

                A Black guy…here on 14th street. Now how am I supposed to find a grain of sand on the beach? Adam was about as
White as could be. He grew up in the Bay Area, but his views were far from
liberal. He looked like the poster boy to the Eugenics programs from the Eastern
Block. He sported blond close-cropped hair and piercing blue eyes. Badges of
honor in the circles he traveled. 

                Adam shifted in his seat and toyed with the radio-dial, looking for a station that didn’t play that jungle music he’d actually grown to like. A couple of dope
fiends walked passed his unit twice. Their hollowed eyes peered hungrily into
his vehicle. Finding no respite, the dope fiends slowly faded into the worn-out
tapestry that painted the surrealness of East 14th.

                “Wait a minute,” Adam whispered, perking up in his chair. “Is that--”

                Walking north bound, wearing a haggard army surplus jacket, was a powerfully built Black man. He wore his hair in cornrows tucked into a short ponytail. His skin
was as black as pitch and his eyes were huge and slanted. Massive earlobes hung
like black cords about his neck.