Almost three hours ago, Jane left her house with a nervous stomach but a determined heart to seek out and find the one person she never knew existed. For now, that quest would be on the back burner. As she walked south down the gravel frontage road, she began to regret her knee-jerk decision to toss her driver’s license into the bus’s burning debris field. With her Mustang possibly long gone and a belief by whoever found her ID that she perished in the explosion, Jane suddenly realized what a fucked up mess she’d created. She surreptitiously turned around several times while she walked, checking to see if she was being followed by that strange red-haired freak wearing the dark suit and sporting the scarlet mark on his hand. As she replayed in her mind the story Lilith told her and relived the targeted sabotage of the bus, it started to feel like a nightmare from which she couldn’t awaken. “Anubus,” she whispered to herself. Given the deadly circumstances, it was ominous that a bus line named after the Egyptian god that guided souls to the underworld was the flashpoint for murder.
