Out of the Darkness~ The Guild Leader Chronicles Book Five

Chapter Fourteen

Out of the Darkness

Fourteen

Dr. McCoy

Stepping out of the airport, and into the thick and suffocating Phoenix air, I repeat to myself to not get my hopes up. According to my secretary, Jackson Stevens has lived in the outskirts of the metropolitan for roughly seven years. However, my secretary also told me that Jackson has been in and out of rehab centers since he was a young adult.

I don't know why he's been institutionalized so many times, but the fact that his mentality is already being called into question worries me a little. What if Mr. Stevens does practice magic and he's not in control of his facilities? This very well could be the last cab ride I take; and worse, I could die in bloody Arizona.

If I do die though, at least my assistant will know that I was on the right track.

About thirty minutes after getting into a cab at the airport, we pull up to what can only be described as a shack. Mr. Jackson's 'home' looks like if a strong wind comes through it would be knocked over.

I lean up to the cabbie, not taking my eyes off the home, and ask, "You sure this is the right address?"

The driver looks at the house, and then over his shoulder to me as he replies, "I'm sure. That'll be twenty-three dollars even."

Once I've paid the man, I grab my workbag before climbing out of the backseat. As soon as I shut the door behind me, the cab drives away; leaving me standing on the side of the road as I look unenthusiastically at the shack.

Taking a deep breath of the smothering air, I grip the handle to my bag tighter, and then start walking up the dirt driveway. There's no car parked outside, so it's possible that the owner isn't even here. When I get up to the door, it opens before I even knock.

A tall man with a gut stands in the door way; looking like a mess. His hair isn't combed, and he looks generally unclean. The stench of alcohol wafts from inside, making my stomach churn.

"Who are you?" The man asks, followed by a burp.

Pushing down my nausea, I reply, "I'm Dr. McCoy. I'm looking for Jackson Stevens; do you know where I can find him?"

"You found him!" The guys slurs, and then points to his chest. "I'm Jackson Stevens."

I look at my watch, seeing that it's not even noon and already Mr. Stevens is drunk. I suppress a sigh as I look back to him. "I can come back later if now isn't a good time," I say to him, silently begging that he tells me to kick rocks.

"Nah," he replies, "come on in."

He opens the door even more and starts walking deeper into the tiny house. My steps are slow and unsure. In his altered state, Jackson Stevens could have the answers for what I'm looking for, but how reliable can he be right now? I highly doubt he's the wizard whose done all these terrible things, and that's just from looking at him. For starters, if I were a wizard, I wouldn't live in this dump.