Read Online Dark Horizons (The Red Sector Chronicles) by Krystle Jones - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Krystle Jones
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going to happen to her?” I said, sounding a little breathless. The sound of gunshots still rang in my ears as we zoomed farther away from the base.
“Probably nothing,” Dezyre said, flipping a ringlet over her shoulder and sounding bored. “They need her too badly, especially now that I’m gone.”
I found her eyes in the rearview mirror and glared at her. “You think very highly of yourself.”
“What can I say?” Dezyre shrugged. “I’m indispensable.”
Though she said it so flippantly, there was a guarded look to her eyes that made me pause.
Rook turned a knob and the stereo system hissed to life, filling the car with static and sketchy voices. He thumbed in a numbered button and the radio switched frequencies. One of the guards was rattling off instructions. “Captain Rook and Sloane McAllister are missing. Security reported them leaving t he facility in a brown and black Chimera. Security footage suggest s they are heading toward the city.”
“‘Chimera ? ’ ” I said, looking at Rook. “That’s the best name you could come up with for this thing?”
Rook shrugged. “It seemed appropriate. It wasn’ t like we could call it a Dodge Flamethrower, since it’s made up of different car brands.”
He wheeled the car around a sharp turn, slowing our velocity and grindin g the brakes against the tires. I glanced out the window. We were all the way on the opposite side of the dome, as far away from the base as we could possibly be. The view dipped sideways as we ran up a ramp and burst into a separate, larger dome.
“Wow,” I said, leaning forward so I could get a better view.
We were on another dirt road, but this one actually had lanes spray-painted off. Tall buildings of a variety of architectures from different time periods rose all around us. There were ancient Greek columns next to Chinese temples; log cabins sprouted up in the tiny cracks between bloated structures of glass and metal. It looked, literally, like someone had scooped up a handful of things from different parts of the globe at varying points in Earth’s history , and had slopped them all together. There didn’t appea r to be any stop lights; only stop signs.
Now I knew what Aden had meant by the City of the Dead being a “cluster-thing.”
“This is incredible,” I said, pressing my face against the glass . I’d always wanted to visit Paris, Rome, and a long list of other places, and now , in a way , I sort of was .
I glanced at Dezyre in the mirror; even she seemed somewhat a wed by the arrangement of multi colored buildings around us. I guess she hadn’t been outside the base much, if at all. Then again, I don’t suppose she woul d have a reason to. The base had convenience stores, diners, and just about everything else I picture d small town America having.
Gobs of civilians, al l bearing some sort of sign or T -shirt, ran past us as we zipped down the road. There didn’t, ho wever, seem to be many cars or C himeras or whatever they called them present. For the most part, ours was the only vehicle I saw. “Are there always this many people out?”
“No,” Rook said, keeping his sharp eyes focused on the road. “The city has strict curfews, which I bet the military will be here to enforce any minute now. Even for holidays like New Year’s, they are required to be in their apartments by 1 a.m.”
I thought back to the White Sector, the safe house for human survivors. They were enclosed pieces of cities run by military government offi cials and guarded by mercenaries . The closest White Sector, no. 34 “Pittsburgh,” wasn’t quite that strict, but there had been some chang es made regarding where people could go and at what time of day. Apparently freedom was the price for survival, or at least according to the government .
We blew by a guy with a white T -shirt that said “Long live the emperor.” Tears were running down his face, the long streaks lit up like golden rivers against the backdrop of
“Probably nothing,” Dezyre said, flipping a ringlet over her shoulder and sounding bored. “They need her too badly, especially now that I’m gone.”
I found her eyes in the rearview mirror and glared at her. “You think very highly of yourself.”
“What can I say?” Dezyre shrugged. “I’m indispensable.”
Though she said it so flippantly, there was a guarded look to her eyes that made me pause.
Rook turned a knob and the stereo system hissed to life, filling the car with static and sketchy voices. He thumbed in a numbered button and the radio switched frequencies. One of the guards was rattling off instructions. “Captain Rook and Sloane McAllister are missing. Security reported them leaving t he facility in a brown and black Chimera. Security footage suggest s they are heading toward the city.”
“‘Chimera ? ’ ” I said, looking at Rook. “That’s the best name you could come up with for this thing?”
Rook shrugged. “It seemed appropriate. It wasn’ t like we could call it a Dodge Flamethrower, since it’s made up of different car brands.”
He wheeled the car around a sharp turn, slowing our velocity and grindin g the brakes against the tires. I glanced out the window. We were all the way on the opposite side of the dome, as far away from the base as we could possibly be. The view dipped sideways as we ran up a ramp and burst into a separate, larger dome.
“Wow,” I said, leaning forward so I could get a better view.
We were on another dirt road, but this one actually had lanes spray-painted off. Tall buildings of a variety of architectures from different time periods rose all around us. There were ancient Greek columns next to Chinese temples; log cabins sprouted up in the tiny cracks between bloated structures of glass and metal. It looked, literally, like someone had scooped up a handful of things from different parts of the globe at varying points in Earth’s history , and had slopped them all together. There didn’t appea r to be any stop lights; only stop signs.
Now I knew what Aden had meant by the City of the Dead being a “cluster-thing.”
“This is incredible,” I said, pressing my face against the glass . I’d always wanted to visit Paris, Rome, and a long list of other places, and now , in a way , I sort of was .
I glanced at Dezyre in the mirror; even she seemed somewhat a wed by the arrangement of multi colored buildings around us. I guess she hadn’t been outside the base much, if at all. Then again, I don’t suppose she woul d have a reason to. The base had convenience stores, diners, and just about everything else I picture d small town America having.
Gobs of civilians, al l bearing some sort of sign or T -shirt, ran past us as we zipped down the road. There didn’t, ho wever, seem to be many cars or C himeras or whatever they called them present. For the most part, ours was the only vehicle I saw. “Are there always this many people out?”
“No,” Rook said, keeping his sharp eyes focused on the road. “The city has strict curfews, which I bet the military will be here to enforce any minute now. Even for holidays like New Year’s, they are required to be in their apartments by 1 a.m.”
I thought back to the White Sector, the safe house for human survivors. They were enclosed pieces of cities run by military government offi cials and guarded by mercenaries . The closest White Sector, no. 34 “Pittsburgh,” wasn’t quite that strict, but there had been some chang es made regarding where people could go and at what time of day. Apparently freedom was the price for survival, or at least according to the government .
We blew by a guy with a white T -shirt that said “Long live the emperor.” Tears were running down his face, the long streaks lit up like golden rivers against the backdrop of
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