Excerpt from the Death Dealer
by Lawrence Johnson Sr.
Two hours later Steele found himself driving through the roughest
neighborhood in the city. No one in their right mind would come down
here alone in the daytime and most cops wouldn't risk traveling through
this part of town late at night but somehow on this dark, quiet night
Alexander Steele seemed to be drawn to it. There was movement in
shadows of the blocks and blocks of abandon buildings where it was
commonplace to see hundreds of crack vials strewn about the sidewalk.
The movement came from the remnants of lives that once had promising
futures until somehow it all went wrong, somehow dreams were shattered
and goals were forgotten. This was a microcosm of the millions who
chose unwisely at life's fork in the road. These were the forgotten
whose primary concern was not what to wear to work tomorrow morning but
how to survive another day.