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OneBlood
Copyright ©2011 By Qwantu Amaru
www.pantheoncollective.comhttp://www.facebook.com/onebloodbook 
 
1
Prologue
1963 New Orleans, LA
D
uring the day, New Orleans’ most famous neighborhoodwas a tribute to architectural and cultural homogeneity.At night, the French Quarter’s multicultural legacy blurred into anunrecognizable labyrinth; especially in the eyes of the drunk anddesperate.
At the moment, Joseph Latte was both.
Joseph careened down the dark alley and absentmindedlybrushed at the dried blood beneath his nose with his free hand.His tailor-made shirt and pants were drenched with sweat and feltsizes smaller. He was overcome with the sensation that he wasrunning in place, even though he was moving forward at a briskpace. Because he was paying more attention to what was behindhim rather than what was in front of him, Joseph tripped over acarton some careless individual had placed in his path.
Upon impact with the concrete his cheek ayed open, but he
barely felt the sting as his priceless nickel and gold plated antiqueColt Navy Revolver clattered away into the darkness, out of reach.Even now, breathing as harshly as he was, he could hear someonebehind him. Somehow they managed to stay just out of the rangeof his sight, but within earshot.
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