Atlanta Rain

Introduction

Throughout all of our lives, we will encounter many different people. Some of them disappear almost instantly, but a small number of them will remain with us throughout the rest of our lives, until one of us passes over. Everyone that we meet and communicate with has the ability to leave us with something lasting, even if they don’t do it consciously.

In this book, there are nods to people and bands that have made a difference to my life. At the time of writing this book, I heard the news that a fellow Andover author had passed away. My social media was alive with those who were paying tribute to him. It was lovely to see how he had touched so many people in so many different ways.

He largely kept himself to himself, but he was friendly to those who were friendly to him. I can’t claim to have been very close to him, but we did have some interesting conversations over the years. He certainly offered some different perspectives, and he was a genuinely intelligent and passionate man.

So now we come to this book. The 24 series was very fulfilling for me as an author, and it was popular with its readers as well. The only issue with it was that it still left an opening and I felt that there was another story left to tell in the series. Only to do this, it had to be bigger, bolder and far more encompassing. It was a challenge, but it was one that I relished.

At the end of this book, I also managed to include one of my favourite characters ‘Ellie Caitlin’ which has now allowed me to expand the extended universe even further, and if you like character, then the complete Ellie Caitlin time travel story is still available to download.

I hope that this book meets your expectations, as this is highly likely to be the last of the 24 series, as I feel that the time has come to try something different, but as you can tell by this book, I never say never again. Thank you all for your support and kindness to date. I hope that you enjoy it!

Martin McGregor 2018

Can I say a huge thank you, to my mother Brenda, my four sons, Nick Chris Jordan and Owen and two grandsons Freddie, and Marley. Thanks also to Heather Swinson for all of your help and support. Maurice Sweeney for your constant help with promotion. Love Andover radio, everyone on my Facebook author fan-page, and followers on twitter. Lastly to every single one of you who both buys, and reviews my books. One day I will make it! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

This book is dedicated to a fellow author, friend and a true believer.

For Russ Tarrant

May you rest in peace my friend

Atlanta Rain

Barfly

Sharon was sitting alone at the bar with a glass of vodka and cola held in her hand. She had lost count of how many of them she had drunk during the course of the evening. She rarely drank anymore, but today had been just one of those days where nothing seemed to go right for her. At times like this, she liked to unwind, and to forget her troubles even if it was just for a few hours. She needed to escape. A few glasses of vodka would never hurt, or so she thought anyway.

The last eleven years she had endured a great deal of hardship. She had often struggled to just get by from week to week. Now she was rapidly approaching forty years old in just a few more years, and she felt that she had made nothing of her life. It was only during the last year that she had finally found a long term full time job, but that barely paid her enough to cover all of her bills.

In the end, she had decided to give up her rented flat, and move into a single room in a shared house. She had regretted that decision ever since. It led her down a path filled with depression, and her solitude only served to feed that depression. She tried to turn her hand to writing, but she gave up the idea quite quickly. She just couldn’t focus for long enough to write a full length book.

Alcohol wasn't a friend to her. She already knew that much. For a few years she had come to rely on it far too much. It was a crutch that she leant on when things became too dark and miserable. In her head she felt that it was better that she chose alcohol, rather than to turn to anything harder to get her through the tough times. The drug problem here was worse than it had ever been. She was constantly being offered them.

Nowadays she was totally opposed to drugs in any form. She had seen too many young lives ruined by them. Still they were flooding in to the town from the larger cities, and she had seen children as young as thirteen peddling the wares. They took the risk while others higher up the chain grew rich. Society was collapsing under its own greed.

Tonight was a special night for her. It had been eleven years exactly to the day. That was the day when she had witnessed the death of the entity at the hands of a five year old girl. No one had ever heard her tell the story of what had happened that night. It was just too fantastical to be true. Sometimes she wondered if she had dreamt the whole thing herself. She still had the scars from the fights to prove that it was real though.

It was almost six in the morning when she had returned Atlanta back to her home on Artist’s Way. The child had asked her for a hug before they had parted company, and that was the last that she had seen of her. Atlanta had gone back into her house via the open back door, and her parents must have been none the wiser as to the important part that their child had played in destroying the creature.

Sharon had returned to the house just a year or so later, but the family had already moved on. The new tenants had no idea where they had gone either. They had left no forwarding address. Over the years, the memories of that night had faded, but she had never forgotten that special child, and all that she had done. Sharon owed her life to her.

She raised the glass up to her lips and slowly sipped from it. She was already feeling a little light headed. It made her smile to know that the alcohol was having the desired effect and she was feeling more relaxed. She would not be smiling in the morning, as the resulting hangovers from a night out, were becoming much worse each time that she drank. Ever since she had turned thirty they had become seriously unbearable.

She put the glass back down on the bar, and turned around to climb off of the bar stool. She had stumbled a little as she jumped down from the stool, but she wasn’t anywhere near as drunk as she wanted to be. She was still happy enough for her to carry on drinking. She would have a few more drinks at least. She felt the need to pee and empty her bladder first though. It seemed to be shrinking and hold less fluid with every passing year.

When she walked through the toilet door, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She could see that there were a few grey hairs coming through on her head. She moved closer to the mirror. It was in this exact mirror, that she had seen the dead image of Saul coming to warn her all those years back. She half expected him to appear again in front of her. He never did though. She leant forward on the sink to steady herself while she took a closer look at her own reflection.

Sharon stared into the reflection of her eyes. There was a deep sadness in them. There were lines etched onto her face where she had endured the tough times. She had often cried, but only when she was alone, never when she was in the company of anyone else. The lines around her eyes told her that age was catching up with her, and that her biological clock was ticking away far too fast.

Using her fingers, she individually selected the grey hairs on the top of her head, and pulled them out one by one. Once they were gone from her head, she felt a little better about herself. No doubt more of them would arrive soon enough to replace the ones she had pulled out. She then turned around and walked into the vacant cubicle, where she sat down and emptied out her bladder. Then she flushed the chain, washed her hands, and made her way back to the bar.

Her glass of vodka and cola was still on the bar where she had left it. She climbed back up on to the stool and picked up the glass. She drank the remainder of the drink down in one, and then she raised her hand up to call the barmaid over to her. She ordered another drink and pushed her glass forward so that it could be used again.

The barmaid poured her a fresh drink, without saying a word. She then snatched the money out from Sharon’s raised hand and then placed the change back down on the bar in front of her. Sharon had never seen the barmaid before, but she seemed quite moody. It didn't bother her. If she didn't want to talk, then that was her choice.

Then she noticed an odd looking man staring at her from up at the other end of the bar. He looked a little creepy. He nodded and smiled at her, but she never returned his greeting. She chose to look away instead. There were two men playing pool at the far end of the pub. She watched them play for a while. They were competitive and they took the game far too seriously.

Half way through the glass of vodka, Sharon started to feel slightly drunk, but she felt dizzy with it as well. She wasn't used to drinking much anymore, but she knew full well that she could easily handle more than the number of drinks that she had drunk that night. Something wasn't right. She went to jump down from the chair, and she struggled to get off the stool. It felt as if her legs had turned to jelly. She couldn't walk.

The creepy guy at