Red Lines Novels & Stories

Aian could see another section on the opposite side of the building where more booths and tables lined a second floor balcony enclosed by a metal railing instead of glass. The two sections were divided by a series of black glass panels that couldn’t be seen through. Possibly the manager’s office, seeing as it would give a good view of most of the club if it was a one way glass. Everything was red, black, and chrome. It walked a fine line between classy and tacky yet somehow, the club pulled it off. He could also see what Kalvin meant by a younger crowd. Most were around Aian’s age, which would explain the music and the large dance floor.

I stepped closer. The map showed the city and the surrounding regions. Lines connected the pins in jagged webs, forming routes I couldn’t make sense of, and at several points marked by pins, the initials AM were written in red. I frowned, leaning in. I had no idea what it meant. Was it a place? A code? Someone’s initials?

“Clients come up here sometimes. Smoke. Take a breather. VIPs especially. They like quiet before diving back into the noise.” Milo’s brow furrowed. “You think it was one of them?” “I think I’m not tech support,” Red said coolly. “Cameras break. Wires short. Or maybe someone with a key got nervous.” “You didn’t see anything?” Red shrugged. “Didn’t say that.” Milo’s jaw clenched. “So what did you see?” Red flicked ash off the side of the roof. “Nothing that looked like a problem. Just men pretending to be invisible.”

“And if they are dirty?” “Then we make an example.” I don’t bother softening it. “Quietly, if we can. Loudly, if we have to.” The meeting breaks with the scrape of chairs. They leave with their orders, sharper than they arrived. I stay. The map on the wall is a mess of markers now. Some red for confirmed Redmaw movement, some black for our own. The southern edge is a tangle of both, the lines so close they’re nearly touching.

The lights surged blinding white. Every avatar whispered at once: “We see you.” Bram kicked the subjunction room door open. The place was a nightmare: a nest of cables coiled like throbbing veins. He pulled out his cutters. “Ines, confirm: cut the red bus first?” “No,” Ines snapped. “If you cut the red first, you’ll overload the auxiliary line and fry Liora.” “Okay, so… blue?” “No!” “Well give me a color, woman!” “Grey feeds first. Then blue. Then the thick black one. In that order.”

"You've appeared on the board thrice tonight. With official signal. How do you think that came about?" "Official signal?" I repeated, frowning in confusion. "What is that? I only got to know about the board tonight." Mark moved then. Closer to me but facing the electronic board above him. Pointing. "See the other name below yours? Notice the lack of red lines underneath it, unlike yours?" I stared at it, and sure enough there was no red lines underneath the other name. But there was on mine. 3 lines. "I see it,"

The nerves in my body quietly tensed. Soon, a sleek black car pulled up at the building. Thomas's eyes lit up, and he eagerly waved his hand. "Babe!" Imogen stepped out, impeccably dressed in a cream suit, cradling an enormous bouquet of roses.

The crimson lines beneath her skin turned a dark bruised purple. "The line... It's not grounding " Elara choked out. "It's... It's rewriting the definition. Cole... It's not counting the hours anymore. It's cancelling the debt." In her mind's eye the three-hundred-mile iron delta that choked the valley road began to turn black from the center. The braided telegraph wires and railway tracks weren't just twisting; they were dissolving into a liquid sludge of black pitch. The forty massive wooden wheels of the siege-engine had come to a complete halt.

*Chapter 1: Two Pink Lines* _Two pink lines._ I blinked. Rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palm until I saw stars. Counted again. Still two. The plastic stick shook in my hand like it was mocking me. Like the universe had decided twenty-five years of bad luck wasn’t enough, and I needed a boss-level disaster. The date stamped on the wrapper said _Exp: 12/2027_. So the test wasn’t faulty. I was.