Black Magic by Russell James Read Free Book Online Page B

the main water line, following the path of its brethren. The pulse shot across town along the pipes, pinging from junction to junction like a disk in a pachinko machine, bouncing left and right but holding one overall course. It finally found the rarely used line from town to the abandoned Apex sugar plant.
    The pulse hit the plant’s long-dead pumps and then angled down. It plummeted several hundred feet until the pipe opened up into a vast underground limestone cavern, drained by decades of the plant’s thirst for processing water. The energy flew in the darkness like a shooting star. It hit one wall, ricocheted across the cavern and bounced off another, leaving an afterglow trail.
    A half dozen other pulses rebounded from wall to wall, flashes in the inky void, the first fruits of Lyle Miller’s new Grand Adventure.

Chapter Thirteen  
    Setup: How many DPW employees does it take to change a light bulb?
    Punch line: One, because there’s only one to do it.
    The “Department” in Citrus Glade’s Department of Public Works was a bit of a stretch. Monday through Friday, Andy was it. Andy reported to the mayor. Back when the mill was humming and the streets were alive, Andy, and the rest of the crew, would have reported to the Chief of DPW. But the city payroll had dwindled with the tax base. The town council found they could ax the position of chief, but if they axed Andy, no one cut the grass. And someone had to cut the grass. And scrape up the road kill. And man the dump twice a week.
    Andy balanced on the top rung of a stepladder Monday morning at the corner of Tangelo and Main. He removed the dead bulb from the quaint iron post streetlight. After nightfall, downtown was as popular as a haunted house, so there was an element of absurdity to Andy’s morning task. But it was on the list anyway.
    The clomp of high heels on concrete sounded below him. Mayor Flora Diaz had put the bulb replacement on Andy’s list and he knew she’d want to check on progress. She approached the corner wearing a sharp white linen suit, skirt professionally to the knee, and a pair of beige pumps. With shorter black hair and tasteful makeup, she looked the part of a small-town mayor. Andy always thought that looking the role of Citrus Glade’s mayor was more than half the battle. The job had shrunk to near figurehead status.
    “Madame Mayor,” Andy said with teasing reverence.
    “Super, super, super!” she said with the enthusiasm of a child at Christmas. “I saw the light out last night and it just isn’t right for the town to have dead lights on Main Street.”
    Her positive attitude hadn’t changed since they’d both been at Citrus Glade High a lifetime ago. Andy admired her sunny disposition about the town and its future. There were days it made the difference in his outlook on his work. Add in that he felt he worked with the mayor, rather than for her, and the DPW looked pretty good.
    “It will be shining brightly this evening,” Andy said. “Ready to light our new business across the street.”
    He pointed his thumb at the renovated Magic Shop. Flora rolled her big brown eyes.
    “Now don’t you start,” she said. “I’ve already had Reverend Wright call me twice about how Satan himself had moved onto Main Street. We’re going over together tomorrow morning to chat with the owner and put the Reverend’s fears to rest. I hope.”
    “The store isn’t open much,” Andy said. “Or maybe at all. I’ve never seen the CLOSED sign flipped over, now that I think of it.”
    “I’m sure he’s planning a big grand opening,” Flora said. “I’m just happy to have some new business downtown.”
    Andy had to stifle a laugh every time she used the word downtown as if there was an “uptown” to Citrus Glade.
    “Be safe up there,” she said and departed to City Hall.
    Andy gave the Magic Shop a bit more thought. There was something creepy about it. The bland name, the black paint, the empty storefront window. Since the