DARK CITY a gripping detective mystery by CHRISTOPHER M. COLAVITO

places that aren't under any of their control, and we'll be in business.”
    “That's some awfully good detecting, partner.”
    “Yeah. It's amazing how much can be done when you're not around to bug me.”
     
    * * *
     
    The city darkened as Detectives Knox and Lane drove deeper into its underbelly. As the city grew richer and more sophisticated, the old parts were tossed aside, left to rot in the shadows of the new towers erected as monuments to modernity's ego. These charred remnants of what the city used to be were breeding grounds for discontent and evil, with demons filling the vacuum left by the mass exodus. Few dared go further into the dark heart of the city than necessary, a segregation that served all sides well.
    Detective Knox had spent much of his life on those streets, chasing down the specters that haunted the nights of the good people of the city. He had caught more than his share, but the supply was endless, and his desire for the job no longer burned. As long as he could take on the hydra of evil one head at a time, as long as he could solve the cases put before him, he was content with himself. Mental strength was required, but his will had not slipped, and he was unbowed by the depravity he had to witness.
    “Have you spent much time in this part of town, Lane?”
    “No, I can't say I have. Or that I want to.”
    “It's a good education. This is where you learn if you have the stomach to admit who we really are.”
    “You make it sound so charming.”
    “It's a fact of life. Not everything we do is like in a mystery novel. Real life is ugly, messy, the sort of thing you wish you could forget. It infects your eyes, then it burrows into your heart. Eventually, you rot from the inside. That's the best-case scenario.”
    “Do I even want to know what's worse?”
    “Nope.”
    “Good. So what do we know about this place?”
    “According to my friend who still works this beat, there are only a handful of places that aren't under any control. Those are our likely sites, so we'll start with the one closest to the main road and branch out from there.”
    “Something tells me whoever did this wouldn't want to go any further off the beaten path than they had to.”
    “Precisely. You're catching on.”
    The pair sat in silence the rest of the way, as the landscape grew filthier with each rotation of the tires. They were in a part of the city where car doors locked reflexively, where anyone walking down the street was viewed as a threat, where peace was a foreign concept. Detective Lane was not oblivious to the suffering that existed in his own city, but there had always remained enough of a separation to allow him to ignore what life was like in a world where death stalks you at every turn. Coming face to face with reality, however, he realized how naïve he had been.
    The brakes bit in, bringing the car to a stop in a place it would rather drive straight through. Bouncing on loose springs, Detective Lane's head bobbed back and forth, as though nodding in endless reaffirmation. Knox was in no such state, with one foot already out the door, the stale air pouring in and overtaking the heat. Lane followed, gingerly, wary of letting his focus slip for even a second. Knox looked back at him, the glare in his eyes unmistakable.
    “Stop being a wuss. Nothing's going to happen to us. No one around here would dare do anything to put this place back on our radar. It's like when you have a bee flying around your head. If you leave it alone, it'll leave you alone.”
    “I always get stung.”
    “That's because you're a schmuck. Just keep your mouth shut and follow me.”
    Hinges hung by threads, the door held in place by the grip of dirt. Detective Knox pulled gently, and the door wobbled and almost fell on him. He pushed it aside, exposing the entrance to what could optimistically be called a building. The structure was failing, the cracks counted like the rings on a tree, telling the story of how long it had