Excerpt from the book “Lights Out”

Posted: December 6, 2014 in excerpts
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            Chapter One

THE SIREN OF THE POLICE CAR HAD BEEN BUZZING non-stop for the past ten minutes; the chase was ripe enough to call for back up but Jack Williams was dead sure he could burst these culprits alone. The four sport cars had zoomed past him a while ago, exceeding the speed limit of the region by a large gap of 50km/h. “Drunk Bastards!” He yelled out loud as he stepped on the gas.

The whole day had started slowly for him, even his partner, the good old Joe had for the first time in a long while skipped duty, and so he sat alone, listening to rock n roll music flow through the speakers of his car stereo—Bored, until the cars flew past, dusting every tang of fun and life into his lacklustre day.

He had caught a glimpse of one of the drivers; she looked 18 or 19, and was screaming at the top of her voice as she sped past. It looked a whole hell lot like a car racing as each of the four vehicles tried to overtake each other in precarious unanimity. He joined the reckless insanity with nothing but righteous antipathy, charging his BMW towards the blue car right at the tail of the convoy. His mind flashed to good old Joe as his adrenaline soared up. ‘Scumbag; He would have radioed for backup long ago.’ He changed gears in quick succession as they took the sharp bend; one of the vehicles made a dangerous twist and almost got out of grip but then sprung back on track without losing acceleration. “Pulling off GTA VI stunts on my tracks, right?” He called out loud as he increased velocity. In no time he was right at the back of one of the cars, he hit the rear firmly in a bid to shove it out of the road and stop its progression. It pushed the car sideways but didn’t do any more than that; he levelled up his car adjacent to his target to complete the offensive but was caught completely on the hop as the blue car jammed him off the road. “Shit.” He raised his head right in time to meet the FUCK YOU middle finger of the freckled faced teenager as the lad zoomed off laughing with the co-occupant of his car; the girl in the fore passenger seat was also blonde like the driver of the first car and probably the driver’s girlfriend. He could feel the sharp pang of pain that cut across the wound on his head. The sudden hit had made him bang his head against the steering wheel; he was a tad lucky it didn’t cause any serious damage. He touched the sore with his hands and rubbed the blood stain between his fingers. “This is world war III,” He announced as he motioned to steer his vehicle back on the road. “It isn’t over yet fags!” He ignited the car engine with a key twist, stepped on the acceleration and continued the trail of the criminals.


JAMES BURTON PILOTED HIS CAR SUCCESSFULLY TO occupy the first place of the convoy, and right behind his yellow sports car, was green, red, and blue, all occupying second, third, and last consecutively. The cars had been named after their colours and their number plates were engraved the tags; YELLOW: GREEN: RED: and BLUE, boldly. His tummy rumbled, registering the fact that he was downright famished. He spotted a roadside eatery just up ahead and made for it. The school calendar had fled past like a dizzy lunatic in pursuit of nothing. He could vividly dredge up the sentiment of walking into Triston High as final year students. That godlike pride, that created the illusion that they could walk on the heads of juniors and not be perturbed by the school authorities consumed them for the better half of the semester, until at last they got jaded and fell back to their normal routine of vandalizing school facilities.

James Burton, was the son of the multibillion dollar rich Adam Burton, the entire school knew his family history. The oil wells his family owned was incalculable, some could say the blood that surged through a Burton was costlier than gold. Right from the first sound he ever made James had been provided with whatever he so desired. He was handsome plus awfully rich, it was impossible not to get any girl he wanted.

Sarah Banks had fallen in love with him at sight; she too was a spoilt kid, her mum and dad, divorced. It was hard to tell which of her parents was wealthier. They had two things in common, the first of which was the immeasurable love for their daughter and then the stamped from hell hatred for each other. Their breakup had been a grand scandal, fuelled by the love for money and devilish ambitious idiosyncrasy; their marriage ship had hit the berg years ago and sunk with whatever was left of their youthful passion.

James didn’t do much in selecting his kind of friends; they just traced him by default. BK’s, that’s what they called themselves; all six of them, proud kids of multibillionaires.

He pulled his car straight into the parking lot. The other cars followed in same trajectory.

“What the fuck, James?” Denis asked as he slammed the door of his car.

“I’m hungry dude, what do you expect?”

“Yeah, it’s about time I stretched my legs, we’ve been driving for hours.” The dark skinned girl that alighted from the red car in the convoy said.

“Lillian, in a few hours’ time you’d be stretching something else.” Denis grinned.

“Boom,” Maxwell bellowed, walking up to Denis and giving him the famous Triston High swag shake. “You sure know how to put her in the mood, man.”

“Fuck you both.”

“Trust me babe it would be a heck of a threesome.” Denis laughed, repeating the hand shake sequence with James.

“You Dicks should leave the lady alone!” Sofia Demanded. “Denis! You should be treating your girlfriend better.”

“James wouldn’t try that with me, he’d have to find another body to insert that dragon under his pants.” Sarah said as she made for the entrance of the eatery.

“Dragon? Denis has a pitiable pint-sized petrified chipmunk under his shorts.” Lillian found her voice.

“Damn, that’s just sad!” Sofia teased.

The whole crew laughed non-stop as they stabbed into the coolness of the eatery. The place was beautifully designed. With mini round tables just enough to occupy four people. They picked a spot, grabbed two chairs from another table arrangement to improvise a befitting six space sitting arrangement.

“Excuse me sir, you can’t—

“What,” Denis asked in his trademark rude fashion “gat a problem with us?” The waitress evaded facing all six of them herself and pretended like she wasn’t actually talking to them.

“What can I get for you?” Another waitress with boobs rather too large for her extremely trifling body asked.

“Whoa.” Maxwell yelled.

All three boys in the crew cackled uncontrollably, exchanging their symbolic handclasp.

“I need your orders.” The waitress asked again, venting her professional tranquillity.

“Milk.” The laughter continued as the words slipped off James’ lips.

“Excuse me.” She sounded pained to the bone.

“We need six large cups of milk, and make sure it is straight from the source.” James continued as he placed a firm gawk at her boobs.

“Screw you!” She lost it as the continual laughter of the entire crew around her rang through her ears. With quick and steady strides she matched on, soaring on the wings of fury, headed towards the manager’s office.

THE PAIN ON HIS HEAD CONTINUED TO BURN AS HE transported in full speed, searching profoundly for the criminals—his criminals. It was way past a normal speed limit default case to him, he was out to get them and his heart raced through a thousand ways to carry out this vendetta. He touched the sore on his head for the umpteenth time, feeling his blood, and fuelling his anger and determination to get back at them. The buzz from his intercom broke him out of the limbo engineered by hateful spite. He connected:

“Where the Fuck is you?” Old Joe’s jagged voice blasted through the receiver.

“Ha-ha you won’t believe me.”

“I’m parked in our duty post, listening to a lame ass presenter talking trash on radio for the past ten minutes. I’m bored man, why did you leave the post.” Old Joe complained through the speakers.

“Welcome to my world. I’ve been listening to that all day because you refused to resume! Well I’m quite busy now.”

“Busy? What in the heavens are you up to?”

“I’m about to send a kid and his friends to a dinner party in hell.”

“What the fuck! Don’t do anything rash man, I’m on my way! Where are you?” Old Joe kicked his car into life as he dashed the words out of his mouth.

“Too late pussy, its game on;” He had successfully spotted the four cars packed just beside the Simpsons fast food joint. “Check mate suckers!”

He disconnected the intercom and alighted from his car. Clearly through the glass walls of the building he could see that the kids were orchestrating trouble. The hall was virtually empty with the exception on the six of them and the manager blaring at the top of his voice. He picked up his wooden baton and walked straight into the chaos.


“What is happening here?” jack smiled, feigning ignorance.

Denis was the first to recognize him; he knew jack was the cop he jammed off the road.

“Fuck shit, let’s move guys.”

“I don’t think that is going to happen.” Jack spoke as he wiped the blood stains on his head with his hands.

Suddenly the wave of knowledge swept through the remainder of the six.

“And you are going to stop all six of us?” Maxwell demanded with a grin.

The manger stood still, totally out of the dialogue.

“Nope,” He paused as he scanned their faces. “I’d beat the freckled face bastard to stupor and then arrest the owners of all four cars outside.” He completed his statement calmly.

Denis charged after him, tossing three quick blows in swift succession. Jack dodged all three and delivered a practiced blow on Denis’ right ribs. The lad swept off balance and tumbled on the floor. Jack stretched his hands out in the ‘bring it on’ fashion to both guys still standing. James and Maxwell rushed into the call, delivering weak unpractised pathetic attacks on the skilled force man. He gave a clean fling of his baton and caught James just few inches from his eyes. James turned around dazed, colliding into an on rushing Maxwell. Pandemonium—the exact word any of the girls would suggest in explaining the scene as they watched their boyfriends battered into pulp. Jack turned his attention back to Denis who was still on the floor groaning in pains. “You think you can fuck with just any police officer right?” He drove targeted foot kicks at Denis’ ribs incessantly as he spoke.

“Leave him alone jerk!” Lillian threw herself on him as she struggled to break him off her boyfriend.

“Get off me bitch!” He tossed her off his back. The force of the fling sent her crashing into one of the tables. She landed of the floor, lifeless.

“You killed her!” Tracy screamed.

He took quick strides towards the girl on the floor, searching for a pulse, totally unaware of the incoming hit. The stab on his back was quick and deep. He felt the knife slide out of his body and returned back through his neck. It came out again, and as he turned around to catch a glimpse of his assaulter, the final stab ran through his stomach. The last thing his eyes accommodated was the glint of murderous ambition in James’ eyes and then lights out.

James dropped the knife and sat on the floor, hands placed on his head, still in shock. A thousand things ran through his thinking faculty as he raced through the incident. ‘This was self-defence.’ ‘He was going to kill them all.’ ‘He had killed Lillian already.’ The thoughts came pouring in. He could hear the girls crying just beside Lillian. The manager was still standing, tongue tied as he watched the bodies lying lifeless. This was bad business for him. The eatery will be shut down by the police for at least a month. This could cost him his job.

“She blinked!” Sofia had noticed a twitch from Lillian’s eyes. This broke James out of the thoughts limbo. He rushed towards her and jostled her vigorously. She gave a slight cough and sat up.

“Damn!” He didn’t know what to think now. He had killed a police officer out of the rage of her supposed death. And then it dawned on him, he was done for this time—totally screwed. “You must say nothing to nobody!” He directed the words to the manager of the eatery. “You and your staff, or my family will wipe out the very thought of your existence from this galaxy.”

The manager nodded his head, still dazed from the happenings.

“Max, come help grab the body let’s get out of here.”

Maxwell obeyed the call without hesitation. The rest of the crew followed after them as they moved out of the eatery, struggling under the weight of the dead cop. In a bit the body was placed in the booth of James’ car. They all stood for a while, watching the lifeless being and then James closed the booth, snapping them out of their bizarre imaginations of possible outcome of their predicament.

“What are we to do now?” Sarah asked.

“Wait, I’d be back.”

James trekked back towards the eatery. They watched him enter, and kept theirs eyes focused as he talked with the manager.

“Why will he do that?” Sofia spoke, still shocked.

“Why will he do what?” Denis asked

“Kill him! Christ! What else will I be talking about?”

“Don’t you see, he was going to kill us all?!” Maxwell exploded.

“And did he?” Sarah questioned.

“Girls are so dumb!” Denis stormed away and locked himself inside his car.

James tore out of the eatery and walked towards them.

“Lillian, are you okay?” He asked concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Let’s go, we’d dump him in the river up ahead. I have taken care of the manger, he wouldn’t say a word.”

“Let’s do this.” Maxwell said.

They all got into the car and drove off. Sarah could see activities going in the eatery; the waitresses were mopping the blood off the floor. ‘This was bad’ she was concerned about her boyfriend and herself. She was in the scene of a murder, an accomplice. It was an easy picking for any of her mother’s lawyers. She was safe, but deep within her was a feeling that something big was coming; something bad, something wrong. A police van sped past and caught her total attention. ‘What must have happened?’ ‘Did the manager call the cops?’ Thoughts ran through her mind nonstop as she continued in the convoy. She drove for a while and then upfront was the bridge. They packed their vehicles on a single file and alighted.

“So are we just going to throw him into the river?” Sarah asked, showing a foretaste of her uncertainties.

“Got a more brilliant idea Einstein?” Denis replied, irritated.

“I don’t know, but I think he has a family. We could leave him here; someone would find his body and give him a befitting burial.”

“How would you like the colour of your prison cell, pink?” James asked, calmly.

“Oh please! Who is talking about prison here? I am talking about the right thing to do.”

“And the right thing to do is go to jail and bring our family names to mud?”

“Do it already.” Sofia said.

James and Maxwell lifted the body out of the trunk and staggered towards the closest bridge bar.

“On three we will lift and throw into the water.”

“Okay.” Maxwell said as he braced himself for the task.


The toss was high and with intense velocity, and as the body entered the hydrosphere, the waters opened up and swallowed it. They watched the waters for some time and then James turned back, headed for his car.

“Let’s get out of here, Lillian.” Denis said.

They all got into their cars, and continued in forward progression, towards the lake house.


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