by Dave Ferraro
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 Hallow’s 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).
I glanced at the bus clock. The digital, scrolling marquee read 7:55 PM, exactly five minutes from when the ceremony was scheduled to commence.
Somehow, sitting here on this bus – the first leg of the long journey ahead – made the situation and my mission startlingly real in my mind. My heart picked up speed and my palms slicked with sweat. I suddenly felt grossly unprepared for what I intended to do, despite nearly a year’s worth of carefully laid plans.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I focused on my breathing. When I opened them, I immediately scowled. On the back of the seat in front of me, someone had carved ONLY GOD, DIAMONDS, AND VAMPIRES LAST FOREVER.
Not forever. Not if I can help it.
My fingertips idly traced the inside of my right wrist, where a tiny tattoo of a black cross lay etched into my skin, marking me as a vampire hunter.
The mention of vampires conjured an image in my mind, a memory of a boy with light brown skin and short black curls much like my own.
Orion. My twin.
My mind always picked the same image. It was my last good memory of him, of his proud, bright smile as he waved the acceptance letter in his hand, declaring him a student of the prestigious Pittsburgh private school, Winchester Thurston. His smile grew even bigger when he read the part that he’d been awarded a full-ride, something that rarely happened at Winchester. When he showed our mother, it was the first time I could ever recall her looking genuinely pleased.
“He’s the best of us all,” she had said.
My brilliant, ambitious brother, too smart for his own good. Someday, he wanted to run for president, and there was just something about him – that “destined-for-greatness-sparkle” - that made me believe he could succeed.
Staring at him in my mind, my face grew hot with shame.
I’m so sorry, Orion.
Applause from the TV interrupted my brooding, and I glanced up as a strong, proud woman – Sovereign McAllister, leader of the Pennsylvania White Sector – strode on stage, coming to stand before the microphone. Her smile was warm and sympathetic as she thanked her audience, but I knew her blue eyes were cold as ice.
My eyes shrank to slits.
Mother.
I knew it would be a while before she discovered me missing, and I hoped I would be far away from here before she sent her Scarlet Guard to retrieve me. All the same, I tensed as the driver turned up the volume and the first threads of her speech drifted through the bus right before my phone chirped in my coat pocket.
I jumped, my heart rate spiking in my chest, as I fished for my cell phone. I flipped it open, not bothering to check the Caller ID.
“Where are you?” Leo growled into my ear.
I almost smiled at the familiar ferocity in his voice. It had never changed since the day we first met, back in the third grade when he had fended off some bullies from hurting me on the playground. We’d been inseparable ever since.
“I’m downtown, at the memorial service,” I said calmly. “I really don’t have time to talk right now. If my mother caught me on the phone –”
“Don’t lie to me, Sloane,” Leo said, voice low and dangerous. “You’re not downtown. And I know you took my dagger.”
My thumb stroked the hilt of the sheathed blade. “Don’t be ridiculous.” My voice warbled on the end and I silently swore. I was never good at keeping secrets from Leo.
“I knew it!” He sighed hard, and I imagined him running his hands through his spiky black hair in classic Leo fashion. “That weapon’s state-of-the-art, one of like ten in existence right now. If my father finds out –”
“Then I guess you better not tell him.” I had hoped Leo wouldn’t realize it had ever been moved, thinking he would be downtown, but he must have decided to train tonight.
Zealous overachiever, I thought wryly.
“Look,” I said, “I’m just going to borrow it for a few hours, then I’ll give it back. Promise.”
Leo’s voice was tight. “You know my father put an enormous amount of trust in letting me practice with it. For you to do this to me, Sloane…”
I bit my lip, feeling the slightest bit guilty for betraying Leo’s confidence. His father worked for the government as a weapon’s engineer, and was one of the developers of Scarlet Steel, a metal as stro
ng as steel but with the corrosive properties of acid (which gave it its red coloring). It was top secret, but Leo had managed to find out it could decompose a vampire – skin and bone – within seconds if the blade penetrated deep enough.
I prayed it would work if I actually had to use it tonight. “I’m sorry, Leo. But you never let me train with anything more exciting than regular knives and swords.”
“Tch. You don’t need Scarlet Steel to be deadly. You’re the fastest close-in fighter I’ve ever taught.”
My chest swelled with pride. “Well, I had a good teacher. But I promise I won’t get a scratch on your baby.”
“It’s not the dagger I’m worried about,” he said softly.
My heart fluttered, and an unexpected blush crept to my cheeks. “I’ll be fine, trust me. I’m just going to practice with it solo tonight at home, and then I’ll give it back to you before your father ever realizes it’s missing.”
The bus must have been wired with an automatic speaker system, because right then a woman said loudly, “Next stop, Cherry Hills Mall.”
I froze, holding my breath. Please let Leo not have heard that!
There was a large pause on the other end. “Wait… did she just say Cherry Hills?”
My lips pressed together. This was Leo, my best friend for over eight years. Should I just tell him I had flat-out lied to him? Could I somehow convince him he’d misheard, and hope he would drop the subject?
Who am I kidding? This is Leo. He’d never let it go. I was so tense with indecision that my shoulders were painfully scrunched up around my neck.
There was another pause on the other end. I heard Leo draw a sharp breath as he pieced the puzzle pieces together. “There’s a gate in that district,” he murmured. “You’re planning on going into the Red Sector to look for Orion, aren’t you?”
Busted. “No,” I whispered weakly.
Leo swore. “Don’t do this, Sloane. No one blames you for what happened. You couldn’t have known…”
“I know,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady as the image of my brother swam before my eyes, accompanied by a heavy wave of guilt. “But you heard what the Scarlet Guard said. Thinking he’s dead isn’t the same thing as knowing. I have to at least try. I owe him that much.”
“Not your life! The Red Sectors are forbidden for a reason, Sloane, because they’re dangerous, vampire-infested hell holes. Look, just because the media’s telling us they’ve been secured, that they’re abandoned and supposedly ‘safe’ now, doesn’t make it so. They’re anything but that. If you go in there alone, you’ll be ripped apart.”
I blanched, swallowing against the tide of vomit rising in my throat. “I know the dangers. And I’m prepared to take the risk.”
“It’s been three years, Sloane,” Leo said. “The chances of him surviving are slim to none.”
That comment stabbed straight into my heart, which should have been completely calloused over from the emotional beating it had endured these past three years. Somewhere along the way, I had simply refused to stop listening every time someone told me Orion was dead.
We don’t know that for sure, I wanted to tell them. He could be alive, waiting for someone to rescue him.
“He wouldn’t give up on me,” I said firmly. “And I’m going, so just drop it.”
The phone call abruptly ended. I called Leo’s name a few times, but there was no response. Maybe the call had been dropped. Reception – and electricity, in general – grew more unstable the farther out one went in the sector, and I was on the far eastern boundary. No one exactly knew why it did this. Still, I couldn’t erase the feeling that something was wrong as the bus hobbled to a stop.
This is it, I told myself. In a few minutes, with any luck, you’ll be in the Red Sector.
Shaking slightly, I rose to my feet. Despite my efforts to remain calm, my knees trembled as I made my way to the front of the bus. I looked up at the TV just as my mother’s speech went silent, replaced by a vibrant red screen that said BREAKING NEWS in the center. A news anchor appeared, with a picture of a pretty, teenage girl to her upper left.
The color drained from my face as I stared back at my senior portrait.
Oh God. Leo, you didn’t!
All the sound faded away, and I barely registered that the anchor was rattling off my description and something about a high dollar reward for a tip leading to my whereabouts. Panic surged through me, and I gripped one of the cold metal handrails to keep myself upright, suppressing the urge to fret about my plan falling apart before my very eyes.
Think, Sloane! What are you going to do?
The way I saw it, I had two options. I could let the Scarlet Guard seize me and drag me back to my mother’s wrath. Or I could run, hoping I made it to the fence before the Guard could catch up to me. Maybe then I could get away from them in the unknown dangers of the Red Sector. And honestly, given the choice of facing my mother or a vampire, I think I would always choose the latter.
My skin tingled with the sensation of being watched, and my eyes rose to meet the driver’s in the rearview mirror. His eyes were squinted, flicking back and forth from the TV screen to my face and growing wider each time. His hand slowly sank into his pocket. Without hesitation, I reached beneath my skirt to my thigh and whipped out a small, silencer-rigged pistol as he put the phone to his face.
His fingers paused over the keypad. Holding the pistol in one hand, I walked up to him until the barrel was only an inch from the back of his head. “Drop it,” I commanded, and the phone clattered to the floor. I picked it up, and stuck it in my coat pocket.
The driver coughed and spit blackened chew on the floor, right at my feet. “Think I’ve never had a gun put to my head, little girl? Seems you’re worth a lot of money. You know somethin’? Ain’t nobody out here but me and you. And they didn’t say anything about you bein’ dead or alive.”
My breath caught in my throat as his other hand appeared, cocking the trigger of a large, menacing black handgun. I had enough control of my senses to swing my foot up, kicking it from his hand as he fired a shot, shattering the front window. The gun hit the dash and fell to the floor. As the driver scrambled to recover the weapon, I threw open the door and stumbled outside, landing hard on the cool pavement. My kneecaps flared with pain, but the sound of another gunshot propelled me to my feet, and I tore off down the street as he radioed the Scarlet Guard.
A brand new Scarlet Steel factory loomed ahead of me, ominous and black against the red, particle-saturated sky. Though Leo said Scarlet Steel posed no threat to humans, the government built their factories in the least inhabited zones, “as a precaution,” Leo had quoted his father. It made me sick to think that they cared so little for the lives of the destitute who still lived out here.
Though it wasn’t quite so bad downtown, the atmosphere here was bulging with Scarlet Steel particles, making the filtered moonlight appear red. Though I had seen a full lunar eclipse (the moon had rusted over the night of the Eclipse), seeing it appear as though it had been dipped in blood was an entirely unsettling feeling. But the eerie moonlight was the least of my problems, and I focused more on my surroundings as my foot found a pothole. My ankle painfully twisted before I caught myself and continued running, teeth clenched tightly together.
I had spent some time in this part of the city before it became a sector, so I knew the path well as I tore through the night. After the Eclipse, the city went through major rearrangements. Generally, the less wealthy lived along the outer edges of the sector – which was shaped in a gigantic, jagged square – while the people with money lived closer to the center, where Sovereign McAllister’s mansion and all the government headquarters were located. Living there also meant an influx of Scarlet Guard, which had completely replaced our policemen. They were everywhere, locking up people for the slightest venture outside the laws my mother’s Parliament had laid down. Most people had a love/hate relationship with the Guard, loving them for the protection they p
rovided, but at the same time, fearing and even resenting them for their sometimes violent manner of dealing with even the most petty of crimes.
The heels of my boots clip-clopped like hooves across the pavement as I ran straight through the Cherry Hills Mall parking lot. Cherry Hills, like so many other locally owned businesses, sprang up after many shops and restaurants closed down, post-Eclipse (it inhabited an old building that used to be a community center). Other businesses – thrift stores, salons, and knick-knack shops – had planted themselves in abandoned homes or buildings. They saw a lot of business, as quite a few people still lived in this area, though most of them would be either locked up in their homes or downtown for the memorial. Nobody wanted to be roaming about on the eve of the Eclipse, as it was considered a day of ill-omen by many survivors.
Eclipse or not, this area was pretty much deserted this time of night. A forest of security cameras watched me, their wiring like vines as they choked the light poles that shone down on me. The lights flickered, yellowed and weak, as I cleared the lot and raced down a blackened alley between two stores, my boots slapping through sludge and knocking over trash bags. The putrid smell of garbage clung to my nostrils, and I gagged as I emerged on the other side.
There, narrowly more than ten feet away, was the fifty-foot tall steel fence that wrapped around the entire sector, cutting it off from the outside threat. A large sign hung near the electronic gate:
WARNING: RED SECTOR. TRESSPASING STRICTLY PROHIBITED AND PUNISHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW.
Situated next to the gate was a tiny box, blinking innocently at me with its eyes of little green lights. I stared at it, my heart pounding harder and harder inside my chest.
This was it. The moment I had been waiting three whole years for. If the code I’d stolen from Leo’s father worked, I could be on the other side within a minute or two.
In my mind, Leo’s warning screamed at me while I tried to convince myself to move forward, like I was going on a picnic and not a suicide mission. I swallowed hard against the knot forming in the base of my throat.
There was a high-pitched hum and then a brief patch of pure darkness as the power failed and struggled to come back to life. If I didn’t make my move now – if the electricity went out altogether – I could lose my chance. There’s no way I could scale the wall. Sirens wailed in the distance, and that was all the prodding I needed.
Racing to the box, I holstered the pistol and grabbed my cell phone, pulling up the code. I was so nervous that my fingers shook, and I punched in the seventeen-digit access code as quickly as I could. My body practically buzzed with adrenaline as I waited for the entry light to change from red to green. At last, I let out a huge sigh as a series of thick bolts slid back into the wall, unlatching the door.
The sirens were so close now that their high-pitched frequency hurt my ears. Come on. Come on, I thought as the heavy metal door slowly swung open with a groan. It felt like an eternity passed before it opened wide enough for me to go through; the gap looked to be little over a foot across, or so I estimated. My foot tapped impatiently, and I whirled around as car doors slammed shut just outside the alley. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed hold of the door and pulled as hard as I could, but my petite frame was far too weak against its crushing weight.
Without warning, the power died and my sight suddenly vanished. My breath was ragged as I flipped open my cell phone, using it as a makeshift flashlight, and I eyed the pitch black gap between the now ajar door and the fence.
Shouts echoed off the alley walls behind me as the Scarlet Guard closed in.
It’s now or never.
Pulling my coat on and tossing my phone back inside a pocket, I grabbed the pistol and aimed it toward the hole. Then I edged myself through the chasm, into the darkness of the Red Sector.
Chapter Two: The Scarlet Dagger