Dani Clifton

A peek at “LUNA ECLIPSE” (working title)

Posted by dani on Apr 04 2009

*This manuscript is still in its virgin state - unedited, unrevised*

Rush hour had just gotten its claws into the city when the cab pulled to a squeaking halt before the old brick building.

     “You sure this is the place sweetheart?” the driver asked, his tone one of condescending doubt. This was no-mans land; a ghost town within the city, left to rot after a big quake had made the coastline unstable and to dangerous for rebuilding.

     “Yep,” his passenger said as she pushed the door open, “this is it.” Long, jean-clad legs stepped out among the weeds growing up from the cracked sidewalk.

     The driver shook his head dubiously. Even before the quake the area had been low-rent and run down. Now, not even the drug dealers claimed this turf. The building that his feminine fare had exited the cab for housed the likeness of a horned fiend hung from rusty chains above a narrow red door. What the driver did not know was that the vacant appearance of the neighborhood was actually the result of a deliberately and well-maintained illusion.

     With a shrug, the driver dismissed any fleeting thoughts he may have had about the woman’s safety. He accepted the money she held out to him and drove away without a glance in the rearview mirror.

Luna RedCrow, as dark and mysterious as her name implied, hurriedly stepped over a mysterious stain on the sidewalk and pushed her way through the red door of The Diablo.  The smell of stale beer, cigars and copper greeted her.

She wove her way through the crowded room, careful to avoid eye contact with anyone; not all of them accepted her designation. Nor did they accept her humanity.  She couldn’t help but wonder how many of The Others thought of her as the tolerated outsider or who defiantly saw her as meat.

She stepped behind the bar and hung her leather coat on its usual hook.  A silver-plated switchblade appeared from within the jacket and disappeared into the back pocket of her jeans.  The weight of the blade was reassuring though its presence was foreboding.  Luna was no fool; she knew too well what lurked about when the sun went down. 

 The sudden pressure of someone’s scrutiny pressed in against her.  Luna slid her eyes to the left just in time to see Gunnar pull his gaze back to bottle in his hand.  He pried off the cap and slid it to an old man seated at the bar.

With his shaggy hair and perpetual need of a razor Gunnar looked far more vagrant than business owner. But his piercing green eyes lent themselves to something all together different.

Something otherworldly.