The Scarlet Dagger (The Red Sector Chronicles, #1)

Chapter 1

Copyright Krystle Jones 2011

Edited by Crazy Book Lady

NOTE: This was one of the first books I wrote. I'm in the process of finishing up the third book in the series, which will be out soon. Enjoy! <3

CHAPTER 1

The bus driver eyed me up and down, confusion sweeping across his weathered face. “You lost or somethin’, doll?”

I shifted my weight but kept my chin up and my gaze firmly fixed on his. “I guess not, since I haven’t been waiting here just to ask you for directions.”

His hard gaze narrowed in scrutiny. I pictured myself through his eyes, foreign and out-of-place against the graffiti-covered buildings and littered sidewalks. My long, curly black hair smelled of shampoo and conditioner, and my black blouse and matching skirt had been freshly pressed. The few places that exposed my skin revealed it to be a light, creamy caramel. Black leggings hugged my legs, disappearing into a brand new pair of black leather boots. Light makeup coated my face, making me appear younger than seventeen, and a light black coat was draped over one arm, concealing the dagger tucked into my belt.

I cleared my throat. “If it’s all the same to you, I have somewhere I need to be.”

The driver spit into a dirty Styrofoam cup and pulled a tin of tobacco chew from his pocket. He stuffed another wad in his cheek, lips curling over his dingy teeth in a predatory grin. “It ain’t gonna be cheap, cupcake. My rent’s overdue, and you look like you ain’t hurtin’.”

I stepped on board, jaw clenched. “You’ll get what the fare is worth and maybe a decent tip if you don’t ask questions.”

The driver’s brows rose, and though his grin widened, he made no objections or crude comments as I half-expected. After plugging the appropriate change into the meter, I eased past him. His hungry eyes followed my rear and I cringed as he licked his lips. I tried to move as quickly as I could away from him, praying he couldn’t hear the jangling of all the guns and knives hidden beneath my clothing.

My deep brown eyes furtively scanned the bus, which was deserted, save for myself and the driver. Inside, my nerves slightly unwound. So far, everything had fired off without a hitch, and I refused to let myself think about the very real possibility that I could be dead by the end of the night.  

The aisles were so coated in dirt and grime that they appeared filmy, and I slipped as the bus lurched away from the curb. My nose wrinkled as I sat down on a cracked seat, its stuffing poking out through the loose stitching. The bus had probably been nicer back in the day, before the Eclipse made civilization go all medieval. It definitely wasn’t standard public transportation; my guess was it had been used for long distance commercial travel once upon a time, back when Halloween meant scores of children dressed in costumes and not the night when America lost a third of its population to ravenous monsters.

At the front of the bus, just above the driver, was a small TV. Its scratched screen showed live coverage of the downtown Pittsburgh White Sector, where the remaining citizens of Pennsylvania were now gathered in Market Square to commemorate the tragedy that had struck three years ago tonight, on All Hallows’ Eve. Hundreds of people – all dressed in black and cupping tiny red candles – stood before the stage, where a podium with a microphone was set up. An enormous black clock stood sentinel next to the podium, a reminder of how things used to be in the square, long ago.

It still blew my mind how fast everything had changed. Market Square had been one of my favorite parts of the city, alive with bustling shops and restaurants. When he was alive, my dad would take my brother and me to Winghart’s Burger and Whiskey Bar as a rare, special treat. The square was also home to one of my single favorite events of the year, Zombie Fest, where thousands, all dressed as the famous undead, would gather for a food drive to feed the city’s less fortunate. My friends and I went every year, that is, up until the Eclipse, when the event kind of fell apart. It had promptly been disbanded by our Sector’s Sovereign or “elected leader.”