Black Camelot's Dazed by Death (Book #4)

By Darius Myers

"Black Camelot's Dazed By Death is a masterfully scripted action/adventure novel that will have a very special appeal to fans of dystopian suspense thriller fiction."

Midwest Book Review

Dazed by Death is book four in the Black Camelot series. The city is in

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fero Scitus
• Release date: Aug 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088285244

Darius Myers

Darius Myers is a New York City-based fiction writer. Previously he was a marketing and media industry executive who held senior roles at leading media companies that include Time Warner, USA Today Hachette Magazines. Mr. Myers has an undergraduate degree from the CW Post College of Long Island University. He also received an MBA from the Kellogg Graduate School of Management at Northwestern University, where he attended as a Time Warner Scholar.

Book preview

Dazed By Death

Books By Darius Myers

Published by

Fero Scitus Books

The Publisher’s Dilemma: A Big City Tale of Privilege, Power & Murder

Black Camelot’s Dawn & The Return Of Madame Hot Temper

Black Camelot’s Days of War

Black Camelot’s Dazed By Death

Black Camelot’s

Dazed By Death

By

Darius Myers

Book Four In The Black Camelot Series

FERO SCITUSBOOKS

WEST NEW YORK, NEW JERSEY

Copyright © 2022 by Fero Scitus, LLC

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1975, no part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Fero Scitus Publishing

6115 Boulevard East

West New York, NJ 07093

Visit our website at www.dariusmyers.com

First Edition: Jan, 2022

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Printed in the United States of America.

Table Of Contents

Part One

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Part Two

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Part Three

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Part Four

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Dedication:

To My Beloved Mother, Betty Jean Myers

Enjoy your heavenly rewards, Mom. They are well earned.

We miss you more than words can express.

Part One

Chapter One

Reverend Joseph Frank Hall looked out across the crowd. It was a September Sunday, but the church was packed as if it were Christmas or Easter. Some 2,500 people were in the main sanctuary. The two overflow rooms at FreeWill Baptist were crammed with another 1,000 people.

Today, even the lobby and aisles were filled. People were hungry to hear the Word of God.

Rev. Hall had seen a lot over his three decades leading FreeWill Baptist. A big part of his job heading the city’s largest Black church was dealing with the pain of tragedy and providing comfort for his large congregation.

As he looked at the filled church, he saw fathers holding sons and daughters tightly, and women standing up praying with hands outstretched to the sky. Young and old parishioners looked at him anxiously with tears filling their eyes.

Oh Lord, give comfort to your brethren, he whispered, as he closed his eyes.

He’d seen that look among his parishioners over the years. He called them surrender faces. It was the look they wore when life became too tough, and they’d come to him and to God for comfort. He’d come to expect that look during bad times, but what tore at him most, what ripped and shook his strength, were the confused faces of young kids. Today, many appeared bewildered as they watched the adults caught up in the Holy Spirit or simply calling out to God for answers. God had given Rev. Hall the gift as a pastor to provide a healing balm. He didn’t know if he had the right words today but stood there knowing it was his job to ease their pain.

He rose up from his oversized seat in the middle of the pulpit and walked to the lectern, raised his hands to the sky, and shouted, Just call on Jesus, people of God.

As his booming baritone voice reverberated around the room, an overture of screams and cries responded to his command.

The leader of FreeWill Baptist lifted his head to the ceiling and continued his comforting appeal, He will heal your pain. God, I know you hear this community’s prayers. Your people, dear God, are in pain.

He then lowered his head and looked across the sanctuary. His face and posture bore the same burden of pain of his flock. He then bellowed, Let Him hear you, Church! God knows, yes he does, God knows.

The first people Rev. Hall noticed in the packed church were the Black Camelot crew. He was particularly concerned about them. They were there to pay their respects, but like much of New York, were in deep pain and mourning. He thoughtfully appraised each of the Black Camelots, most of whom were members of FreeWill, to see how they were faring. He stared at Donald Alexander seated next to his wife Carrie Sinclair and then at Samantha Rivers, who sat next to her wearing dark sunglasses. Next were Kwame Mills and Michelle Nubani, and filling out the rest of their row, Tom Wilson and Danielle Jackson, and finally, Ron Cherry and his wife, Marsha. Rev. Hall nodded to each. It was a nod to acknowledge that he knew they were in deep pain.

In the row behind them sat Chief of Detectives Teddy Walker and his wife Danita, Walker’s mother Ruby, and Teddy’s second-in-command Walt Bigelow and his wife Gina. Walker and Bigelow were men of God and felt the spirit of the church as Rev. Hall stood at the pulpit.

After assessing the Black Camelots, the pastor’s mind drifted as he thought about all of the glitz and glamor that had filled his church during their weddings, the last which was only a couple weeks ago. All summer, FreeWill had been a place of joy and abuzz with New York City’s and the world’s top celebrities, business leaders, and movers and shakers attending the Black Camelot weddings. He thought of the women wearing dazzling designer gowns, and the streets enchanted by wedding processionals that included horse-drawn carriages and blaring trumpets.

All that fun and joy were only memories now. Hall had enjoyed the weddings as much as anyone, but today was totally different. Now, he had to do the hardest part of his job: heal aching hearts.

But Rev. Joseph Frank Hall was a pro. He was a fifth-generation preacher and was raised to lead in these moments. He called on his training and experience, and pressed on.

FreeWill people, take comfort, he yelled. God hears you. I know he does. Do you know why? Do you know why?

Before the parishioners could respond, he thundered even louder. The boom of his voice snapped the tear-filled parishioners and reverberated all the way to the last row in the overstuffed church. It snapped everyone upright and to attention. Mustard seed! I’m calling on all of my mustard seed believers to stand up and call out to God.

Mustard seed faith was an oft-preached sermon of Rev. Hall’s that implored believers to remember that with just a tiny bit of faith, God would deliver. You don’t need a lot people of God, just faith the size of a grain of mustard seed.

The words instantly inspired the congregation’s sorrowful spirits. Donald and Kwame jumped up, as did all the other Black Camelots, the Walkers and Bigelows, and the parishioners throughout the church.

As everyone rose, the organist began playing a light melody of gospel chords. She knew Rev. Hall was warming up, and accompanying him would help raise the spirits of the congregation.

Tell Him, people of God! Sing it with me. Come on, Church, he belted in his rich baritone voice.

Lord, dear Lord, my Lord, I know there’s way more than a mustard seed that resides in me, he intoned.

The church band’s drummer, pianist, and guitarist took their stations next to the organist. The 50-person choir jumped up behind Rev. Hall. They all wore flowing white choir robes with the letters FWB embroidered in red, on the right chest panels. In seconds, the choir was swaying from left to right in perfect formation. The gospel music and the choir’s controlled, rhythmic movement dramatically uplifted the crowd and appealed to their raw emotions – and their souls.

He repeated the refrain, Lord, dear Lord, my Lord, there’s way more than a mustard seed of faith that resides in me.

I call on that mustard seed to keep me free, he continued, his rich baritone melodically wafting throughout the church.

He leaned back, took a deep breath and sang in his highest pitch, My God, You told me that’s all I need, the faith of a mustard seed. I got a little more than that, dear Lord. Please stand by me.

FreeWill’s senior pastor then hung his head somberly and raised his hands over his head to God. The parishioners had seen him that way hundreds of times. He continued talking to God as he jumped in a dance circle, his large black satin robe and red satin collar flowing rhythmically up and down and side to side in perfect coordination. The FreeWill members recognized that their pastor was overcome by the Spirit of God. The choir took over and sang the refrain.

I call on that mustard seed, TO KEEP ME FREE. My God, you told me that’s ALL I NEED, the faith of a mustard seed. I got a little more than that dear Lord, PLEASE STAND BY ME.

As the band played behind the choir, Rev. Hall stopped and lifted his head. He pointed in the packed church to two people and beckoned them to come up to the pulpit. Kwame, Donald and the rest of the Black Camelots all smiled when they saw Rote Tunz walk up the aisle, followed by Fee Fee Collins.

As they approached, Rev. Hall bellowed, Keep praising God, Church. I see two of our longtime members, R&B singer Fee Fee Collins, and hip hop and jazz singer, Rote Tunz. I know they know about mustard seed faith. God is all over their lives.

Collins was first to the pulpit and grabbed the microphone. She wailed in a powerful soprano pitch. Elongating the lyrics. Like Rev. Hall, pain filled her voice. Yes, Yes…He is all over my life. Lord, there’s waa-aaa-aaayy more than a mustard see-EEE-eed of faith that resides in me. My God, you told me that’s all I neeeeeed, the faith of a mustard seed. Don’t leave me Lord, please stand by me.

Please, please Lord, stand by me, the choir sang behind Collins. Tears filled her eyes. She knew Phaethon Malone, as they were both church workers and, like him, she was a friend of the Black Camelots’. Collins handed over the microphone to Rote Tunz, then raised her hands and continued praising God.

The church members clapped and raised their hands, and the choir members smiled as they continued to move in perfect left to right formation knowing they were backing two of the music industry’s top singers.

Most of the parishioners had already stood up to hear Collins. They remained standing and gawked. Some of the younger ones even pulled out their phones and attempted to secretly snap photos of Collins and Tunz. A flock of church ushers walked down the aisles and admonished the picture takers.

As the band played the melody, the hip hop star, who had recently moved into jazz, began humming the refrain. The band softened their volume, and the choir stopped singing. Rote looked at Collins. Besides being friends, they toured together. He whispered, Hum this with me, please. I need a moment.

She moved closer, and they began to hum the refrain together. Tears filled his eyes.

Collins pulled the pocket square from Rote’s suit jacket and dabbed at his eyes. By now, she had regained her composure. She asked her friend, Do you want me to take this? I can.

He sighed and shook his head. I got this, he said. I have to do this for my friend.

The top-selling performing artist then took the mic and sang crisply, his voice clear but filled with torment, Bear with me Church. I call on that mustard seed, dear God. I need it right now. Mu-Mu-Mu-Mustard seed faith is what I need.

Kwame heard the pain in his voice. The smooth, jazzy tenor that Rote was noted for was gone. Phaethon had been a dear friend, and as Rote began to sing, the hurt from losing his friend to a vicious racial shooting came out. Tears welled up again in his eyes, and as they did, Kwame leaned forward. He could see his college roommate struggling to keep control. Collins stood behind Rote, ready to take the mic if he couldn’t go forward.

Carrie and Michelle saw it, too. Carrie yelled to him in support, Sing it, Rote. God’s got you.

Sing for God, Rote, Michelle screamed next. Everyone on their row leaned forward and looked pensively as they shared their friend’s pain.

Hold it together, brother. Sing for God, Kwame mouthed as he and Rote locked eyes. Kwame followed up with a thumbs up and a wink. Rote took a deep breath and continued, tears now streaming down his face.

L-Lo-Lo-Lo-ord, there’s way more than a mustard seed of faith that resides in me. My God, you told me that’s all I will evah-evah-evvvvaaaah need, just the faith of a mustard seed. Don’t leave me Lord, please stand by me.

As the choir sang the refrain, Rote turned his back and heaved heavily as he was overcome. He hugged Collins, who patted him on the back as he let out his tears. All of the Black Camelots continued to lean forward, teary-eyed.

Rev. Hall put his arms around Rote and prayed over him as Collins released him from her hug. But she didn’t let go of Rote’s hand, and he squeezed it tightly. Her friend and tour mate needed her support and he wouldn’t let go of her hand.

Rev. Hall then said, Church, let’s give some praise for brother Rote Tunz and sister Fee Fee. They were raised here at FreeWill and, like all of you, are back here today because we know that God’s house is the best place to be always, but especially when we are under attack. And we are under attack.

These words were followed by cries from the congregation of, Yes, Lord. Dear God. Keep us safe.

Hall continued, But we know with our Father God, our mustard seed is our covering.

The congregation continued to yell out as Rev. Hall looked out over the sanctuary at the gathered flock. They looked back at him with anxious gazes, from faces that yearned for the right answers. Their hearts were heavy and their fears heightened; the word was out that racists had come to New York and killed its most storied basketball star and several others. What they didn’t know was: for the last year the terrorists had also been trying to kill all of the Black Camelots.

Chapter Two

Yancey Stuart Sr. was the worst patient. Nurse Anna Dulany enjoyed having him as a patient; his big personality lit up the hospital’s recovery wing. The former real estate tycoon was on a fast recovery from his near-fatal gunshot wounds. His doctors Mahoney and Ewell attributed it to his big personality, positive spirit and inordinately fast metabolism for a 75-year-old. They also thought it might have something to do with his fascination with the curvy, redheaded and - when called upon - feisty head nurse, Dulany.

Yancey had asked the doctors about her. They both told him they knew nothing about her dating life, but he should go for it.

That was all he needed to hear. Yancey didn’t hesitate and on his third day in the recovery wing, he did just that. Nurse Dulany, he said, without beating around the bush. We should go on a date, sometime. Do you know that I’m rich and single?

She looked at Yancey surprised by the request, and he smiled and winked. His handsome looks and unexpected request disarmed her. Dulany blushed uncontrollably searched for an answer. Her mind went blank, leaving her at loss for words which perplexed her even more. It took her a few moments and several deep breaths to regain her composure, after which he gave him the response that she would give guys she had no interest in at all.

You wouldn’t want to date me, Yancey. I’m committed to my work. Besides, you have been taking a lot of drugs since you’ve been shot.

Well, those drugs have made me see the light, he replied. You’re beautiful.

Dulany blushed more deeply, causing her face to glow with flashes of red. Yancey Stuart was older than her by 30 years. She was 45 and so loved being a nurse that she’d never balanced her life. The work at City Hospital was nonstop and often so emotionally draining that making time to date was difficult. On the occasions when she did try, most men couldn’t tolerate her work schedule or the emotional drain it took on her.

She looked at the one-time real estate king as she considered his overture. Her instincts were that he was way too old. But, his face was ruggedly handsome. His thick patch of white hair had receded only slightly at the temples. And she could tell by his overture that he was charming and fun. She decided to think about it, but for now tried a diversion.

Yancey, your daughter-in-law is trying to bring romance into the hospital. Did Doctors Mahoney and Ewell tell you that Dawn was outside kissing strange men in the emergency room after she learned that you were going to survive? They started calling her Madame Smash Mouth. It was a pretty good scene. Everyone got a kick out of it.

Dulany shared the hilarious story of Dawn passionately kissing the paramedic after the doctors announced that her father-in-law would survive the gunshot. Dawn did not know she was the celebrity crush of the paramedic, who afterward pulled her close and kissed her back even more passionately. The notorious Madame Hot Temper had melted in his arms and stumbled afterwards, drunk from the kiss.

Dawn needs a man, Anna, Yancey said, unperturbed as he called her by her first name. Yancey, Dulany snapped, You shouldn’t say that about her. She might be embarrassed.

Oh, I’m only telling you because you are my future girlfriend and maybe more.

Dulany looked at him, as her face reddened. She had only come into his room to check out his charts and his vitals, and now the old man had made her lose track of what she was doing.

I came in here to take your blood pressure and check your vitals. You need to stop it with all this charming stuff.

Yancey noticed his effect on her. His late son, Yancey Jr., had been a notorious womanizer. Yancey Sr. wasn’t a womanizer, but he was a legendary smooth talker. Many women in his past, while he was a top-gun business executive, had melted as his refined tastes, good looks and happy-go-lucky manner had confused them into thinking that Yancey might be flirting. But that’s just who he was. He’d never cheated on his wife, and he quickly and politely dismissed any woman who thought otherwise. Yancey Jr., however, had inherited all of his father’s gifts, except for the ability to say no to a flirty woman or worse yet, a beautiful woman that he coveted.

I’m sorry, Yancey said, realizing she might have a man in her life. My apologies. Are you involved with someone? I just got excited. You know, when you have a near-death moment like I just did….

Dulany looked at Yancey and finished the sentence as she squeezed the blood pressure bulb, You want to grab a hold of your life and live it to the fullest.

Yes, exactly. Now how is my blood pressure?

Great. 120 over 80. It is perfect.

Yancey winked at her and said, How about yours? I know that I am coming on strong, and I think it might be working because I’m pretty sure I am looking at a woman who is blushing in front of me.

Dulany smiled at Yancey. Her face flushed again from his last comment as Dawn walked into the room. Yancey’s face lit up as he was excited to be able to go home, and he wanted to tease her about her Madame Smash Mouth escapades. He lied to his daughter-in-law.

Dawn, Luke McFlemming left here 10 minutes ago. He told me that the big story tomorrow will be about Dawn Davis Stuart’s Madame Smash Mouth incident at City Hospital.

He winked at Dulany.

Dawn smiled and confessed to her momentary loss of composure. Yeah, I lost it Dad, but it was nothing, except for when the paramedic Roy kissed me. I saw stars. Wow! Luke’s feelings are probably a little hurt. He probably wanted me to lay one on him, too. I would have, but Roy, wow!

Dawn looked up in the air as she recalled the moment.

I told you she needs a man, Yancey said. He winked at Dulany with a wry, mischievous smile.

Dulany shook her head and stared at Yancey. He was as funny as he was charming. She suddenly found herself forcibly resisting the urge to participate in his antics. Dawn, she said. Yancey just made that up. I told him about that incident. I shouldn’t have. I’m beginning to see how incorrigible he can be.

The former tycoon was undaunted. He said with conviction. Dawn, Dulany is soon to be my girlfriend. I’m trying my best to get a date or two out of this. I made her blush, too, a couple of times.

The assuredness startled his daughter-in-law and caused her to blush and sigh with embarrassment. Dawn looked at Dulany and saw that she was blushing again, too.

Dawn’s feminine instincts told her Dulany wasn’t blushing because she was insulted or because she felt Yancey was being inappropriate. Rather, Dawn sensed that Dulany might like him. Yancey was a handful, but he was also an amazing person. He needed a woman in his life. He hadn’t moved on since his wife Tabby died three years ago, and it was time for him to date. Dawn had watched her father-in-law at all of the Black Camelot weddings over the summer and noted how much he enjoyed being out and about again in the city.

Dawn knew that even if it didn’t work out, dating Dulany could be really good for him. He’d at least have something more to do than his current routine of going outside to hang out with the press guys for cocktails at the end of every day.

She smiled at Dulany and said, I’m guessing you can already tell he’s a handful.

The head nurse nodded her agreement. Yancey had convinced her that she should go on a date. He’d caught her at a place where she was seeking balance in her life. She also lived by the maxim that with dating, good times come when you least expect them. Yancey Stuart was fun and certainly unexpected.

He’s also persistent, she told Dawn. We’ll start with one date and see how it goes.

They both looked at Yancey, whose face lit up with a bright smile and widened eyes. Dawn raised her both of her hands with crossed fingers and showed them to Yancey first and then Dulany, and said, Good luck.

Dulany’s face flushed again. She grabbed her blood pressure pack, and said, I’ve got to go and finish my rounds. See you later, Yancey.

Chapter Three

T his will be a tough week, Luke McFlemming told Jennifer Kung and Mike Desanctis. We need to write some uplifting stories to raise the spirits of the city.

They sat at Luke’s table at Cafe Cielo on Monday following the week of traumatic killings in New York. For New York, it was the darkest week since the 9/11 attacks on America. The city was saddened by the murders of Bill Trombetta, Holden Krist and Alec Reese,