Love in the Dark

Chapter Eight

Seth was a bonafide All-American Hero. No matter how hard he tried, Matthew could never live up to the standard that had been set by his big brother. Matthew had struggled through school, barely graduating at the bottom of his class. Seth had come out of the womb with a plan for his life. Matthew had no direction, no purpose, and no ambition. He struggled with relationships, he struggled to hold down a job. After every failure, he ended up coming back to Seth like a whipped dog, with his tail between his legs. It was humiliating, and Matt resented the f**k out of it.

It was Matthew's idea to head to the church. He'd dated a girl once that had attended there, and she'd even dragged his atheist ass to a service or two. But he quickly realized that the church camp was just as f****d as every other camp in the city. There were too many people and not enough food.

He started sneaking away after a few weeks. He had the idea of going to Hamil Cantlow. He left his belongings tucked under his pew in the church, and slipped out to make the six-mile walk back into town, to the hotel just on the outskirts of the city. Hotel Holiday had once been a nice family-owned hotel, with a pool and a hottub, and nice upscale service. But after Hamil bought it, the place went downhill. He used it as a front for his drug business. It became a favorite squat for the city's homeless. Prostitutes worked openly in the parking lot, and the city police were called there on a regular basis.

Matt had a history with Hamil. He'd done some driving for the man, picking up merchandise in Boston and bringing it back to the hotel for marketing. Hamil was always wary of Matt though, because of his connections to Seth. If Big Brother caught wind of what his baby brother was doing, his cozy little empire would be in danger.

Matthew was too tired to even try to be furtive as he approached the hotel. Weeks of starvation had weakened him. He shuffled straight across the parking lot. It was strewn with trash, and here and there Matt spied used needles, and worse, used condoms. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and headed straight for the front door.

The hotel was still standing. That said something. A lot of buildings in the city were torched by rioters. The front had been tagged with graffiti, but that had probably been there from before the great black out. The glass door to the lobby had been smashed out. Matthew stepped through the broken frame, crunching glass underfoot as he made his way inside.

A half-naked woman was passed out on one of the lounge seats in the lobby. She wore a barely-there tank top with one deflated tit falling out. Matt might have been interested, if he had any energy at all. As it was, he was too hungry to even think about f*****g.

He followed the hallway around to the reception desk. The counter was empty, as expected. Matt ducked under the desk to the back office. The door was closed and locked from the inside. He lifted a fist and pounded on the wood.

"Hamil!" Matthew's voice was weaker than he intended. "Open the door! It's Matthew!" He waited a minute, and then pounded again.

He heard a soft rustle behind the door and the lock disengaged. The door opened just a crack, and the barrel of a gun poked out.

Hamil was a small, swarthy man. His thin black hair was always pulled back in a greasy ponytail, revealing his receding hairline. He eyeballed Matthew through the crack in the door. "What the f**k are you doing here?"

"I need some help," Matthew croaked.

"In case you haven't noticed, everyone needs help these days. Its a f*****g apocolypse."

"Come on Hamil, I know you have got resources. I can make it worth your while! I can work for you, right? Just like I did back in the day?"

Hamil frowned and opened the door wider, but he never lowered the pistol that was still leveled at Matthew's chest. "What makes you think I need anything from you?"

Matthew shrugged helplessly. Hamil peered around Matthew and then motioned Matthew into the room. It smelled like booze and stale cigarettes. A battered desk faced the door, and behind it an old sectional couch was pushed up against the wall. A girl was lying face down on the couch, one arm dangling down to the floor. Her almost translucent skin was marred with trackmarks from her wrist all the way up to her armpit. Her blond hair was greasy. She wore a dirty lace teddy that was ripped down one side. She looked as starved as Matthew felt.

Hamil's face screwed up in disgust as he looked at the girl. He ignored her and dropped into the wheeled office chair behind his desk. "This is some s**t, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess." Without being invited, Matthew sank into one of the mismatched chairs opposite the desk. He was feeling too weak to stay on his feet any longer.

"Where have you been hiding?"

"One of the church camps," Matthew gestured vaguely to the south. "But they are in deep s**t too."

Hamil set the gun on the table and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. It didn't surprise Matthew in the least that the man still had smokes and drugs of all kinds. He lit up and blew a cloud of smoke toward Matt. He struggled not to cough and choke on the vile air.

Hamil considered Matthew carefully.

"Where's your brother?"

Matthew snorted. "Starving in camp with the rest of them. You don't have to worry about him."

"I ain't worried about him. Everyone knows the cops are gone. That leaves the city ripe for the picking. You might think that there's nothing left, but actually it's a f*****g gold mine out there." He tugged open a drawer and pulled out a fistful of random jewelry. Gold chains, pearls, diamond tennis bracelets, Rolex watches. He dropped the sparkling loot on the desk in front of him. "This is just a piece of last week's haul."

Matthew stared at it, feeling a slight, jealous thrill. "Did you hit a jewelry store?"

Hamil laughed, and then coughed. He took another long draw of his cigarette, as if the smoke would sooth his irritated lungs. "No man, we hit Adams Street, just the lower end. All we got to do is go door-to-door."

Matthew licked his dry and cracked lips. "I want in, Hamil. Come on, help me out, for old-time's sake!"

Hamil finished his cigarette, crushing out the remains in a glass ashtray shaped like a hand. He considered Matthew carefully. "Yeah, alright. I might have a job for you."

Matthew sagged in relief. "That's great. You are the f*****g best, Hamil." He rubbed his shrunken stomach. "Hey, you got anything to eat around here?"