Read Online Jordan Summers - [Dead World 01] by Red (html) - Free Book Online Page A

area and encroaching desert sands.
    As if on cue, a strong wind blew
dust over the road, covering a portion of the green tarp. Red hit a button inside her car to clear the grit off her windshield.
    She drove into the heart of Nuria, bypassing the
quaint side streets. She wasn't here to sightsee, no matter how tempting. The
main drag through town brightened considerably. Shops lining the road aimed their wares
at weary travelers and locals alike. Cheerful hand-painted signs hung above each building, in dicating what could be found inside. They were a
marked contrast to the sealed storefronts she'd driven past moments ago.
    Specially treated one-way lead mirrors stood in place of traditional windows, allowing shop
customers inside the ability to look out, but preventing anyone from gazing in.
    Supposedly the material served a
twofold purpose— it preserved privacy and kept the radioactivity from passing through the windows. Red
decided the mirrors had more to do
with privacy, since humans either were born immune to the
higher doses of radiation or received gene therapy in the womb to
counteract the poisoning. Being
naturally curious, she found the visual impairment an annoyance.
    Red parked her vehicle and pulled the sunshades from
her eyes, peering at the townsfolk. Several people passed by and smiled, nodding their heads in ac knowledgment. She frowned and looked behind her. there was no one there.
    Confused, Red slowly turned back to face the people. She had never encountered a small town
where the residents were actually
friendly to strangers. Quite the contrary. The last time she'd entered a
boundary town a laser pistol firefight
resulted. She'd prepared herself for
outright hostility, not an open welcome. As much as she appreciated the change. Red wasn't quite sure how to
handle the situation.
    She glanced at her clothing. Her black T-shirt and
pants screamed tactical team and didn't exactly conceal her pistol. Yet the
people seemed unfazed, like they were used to the tactical team's presence,
which was impossible, considering it had been twenty years since the team's
last operation in this area. She'd had to look it up to be sure, since Red had
been an eight-year-old child at the time.
    Another couple strolled by, their
faces just as open, just as friendly.
Dressed in typical boundary town clothing,
the couple's sand-colored fatigues blended seamlessly into the surroundings. Red bobbed her head in
acknowledgment. There was something strange about this place. Pleasant, but
strange.
    Red slipped her shades back on and strode down the sidewalk until she reached what she assumed
was the town center. A small park with benches and faux trees formed a
perfect square. There were play areas set up for children and picnic tables for
family gatherings. No one was around. Most people avoided afternoon sunlight
due to its intensity.
    She glanced at the swings, which squeaked lightly in
the hot desert breeze. Red could almost hear the ghosts of laughter echoing in
the emptiness. She was about to return to
the car when the sensation that she was being watched hit her.
    The skin at the back of her neck
prickled as she felt a heated gaze scroll
over her shoulders and down her body. Red
straightened immediately, tension thrum ming all the way to her toes.
Her hand automatically reached for her
weapon, but she stopped short of withdrawing it from its holster. She
wasn't in hostile territory surrounded by enemies—she was in Nuria's town
center. She would do well to remember that.
    Yet someone was watching her,
following her move ments as she strolled
around the square. She took a deep breath, but smelled nothing. Whoever it was
had taken care to remain downwind. It could he one of the people she'd passed,
who'd gotten curious and had come back for a second look, but Red
didn't think so.
    This seemed different, more intense.
    It felt. . . predatory.
    Male.   
    She paused in the middle of the sidewalk and rolled her shoulders,
letting