Killshot (Icarus Series Book 1) (30 page)

              “What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked Jake, as I fussed over the angry swollen mess that was the right side of his face. “I thought you were going to stay home and wait for your mom and sister?”

              “The Dell,” he said, wincing when I pressed the bridge of his nose.

              “What?” I said, not wanting to tell Jake it was broken.

              “You forgot the stupid laptop,” he grunted. “All of the information from the NWS is on that hard drive and we need to get it into the right hands.”

              “All that over a stupid weather balloon?” I scolded him, as I gingerly felt the shift in his septum.

              “Yeah,” he winced.

              “That was stupid,” I said, as I cradled the bridge of his nose between my thumbs. “And dangerous.”

              “Obviously,” he said, hissing through his teeth as I squeezed tight.

              “This is going to hurt,” I said, biting my lip.

              “Wait—,” Jake’s eyes shot wide, as I jerked his broken nose back into place. His head hit the wall behind him and he slid against it and sank heavily to the floor. “
Damn
it!”

              “Sorry,” I said, staring down at him. “I warned you.”

              “Jesus Christ, Liv!” Jake’s hands cupped his bloody nose, his eyes watering uncontrollably. “That hurt!”

              “I said sorry,” I shrugged.

              Zander helped him to his feet, clapped him on the shoulder and handed him one of the towels we had stolen from the bathroom. I leaned my shoulder against the wall, once again forgetting my bruises. My body shook, as I came down from the adrenaline and my legs were starting to feel weak.

              “I’m coming with you,” Jake sputtered around the towel. “My mom left that note the day of the flare, which means they didn’t make it home, Liv. Maybe— maybe they are still at the hospital, but if they’re not…”

              “I got you,” I told him. “Like I said before, we’re in this together.”

              Finally, the door opened, and Riley emerged alone. Fresh shadows dulled her puffy brown eyes and her shoulders sagged under the strain of Micah’s loss. She looked all cried-out and exhausted—utterly defeated.

              “He wants a few minutes alone with her before we go.” Riley closed the bedroom door behind her and rested her forehead against the wooden surface. She stood there for a moment, holding onto the doorknob as if it were the only thing keeping her afloat.

              “Are you okay?” I asked, like a total moron.

              “Not really,” she said, shrugging past me towards the stairs. “I just can’t.”

              “Go,” Zander said, nodding towards Riley’s retreating form. “Broken heart trumps broken ribs, any day of the week.”

              I squeezed his hand and rushed down the stairs after Riley, wishing (for once) I had more answers than questions. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, her arms crossed over her chest, shuffling her flats through the soot on the floor. Falisha stood silently at her side looking worried, while Bella walked anxious circles around their feet. The dog’s brown eyes darted back and forth between Riley and me. Jake followed a few steps behind me, still holding the towel to his nose. He nudged me with his elbow, urging me on, and headed for the kitchen.

              “Hey,” I said, poetic as always.

              “Hey.” Riley’s eyes stayed fixed on the floor, her tears splashing in the black dust on its wooden surface as the awkward silence stretched out before us.

              “Shit, Riley, I’m sorry,” I blurted. “I don’t even know what to say to make you feel better at this point. I just plain suck at this love and feelings stuff. Is there anything I can do?”

              “No,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s just…I don’t know. He’s just so damn angry. I tried to help, but he just keeps pushing me away. And what he said to Jake? I just can’t.”

              “Maybe he just needs time?” I said though that argument didn’t sound convincing even to me.

              “Yeah, well, that seems to be in short supply these days, doesn’t it?” Riley’s face fell.

              “Give him what you can then and take a step back.” Falisha put her hand on Riley’s shoulder. “I understand you want to help, but sometimes that means
not
helping. You have to be willing to let him figure this one out on his own.”

              “But I love him,” Riley sniffled. “I can’t stand to see him in pain.”

              “I know you do, but who we are in the face of pain—that person we choose to be amid our struggles?
That
is what defines us,” Falisha whispered. “Riley, Micah needs to decide what kind of man he is going to be, and I am sorry, but that is not something you ca do that for him. All you can do is be there and hope he makes the right decision.”

              “Hope.” Riley said the word as if it were foreign to her and wiped a tear from her eye. “Seems, I’m running short on that, too.”

              “Well!” Falisha smiled and slid her arm through Riley’s. “We’ll just have to lend you some of ours, then, won’t we, Sarge?”

              “Damn right,” I agreed, sliding my arm under her other elbow.

              “Turn that frown upside down, Tinkerbelle,” Falisha said. “We need your sparkling personality to keep us sane.”

              “Cheerleader,” Riley snorted, but the corners of her mouth tilted in a faint smile. She bumped each of us with her hips and squeezed our arms against her sides.

              “Midget,” Falisha said, bumping her back.

              Bella sensed the shift in the emotional tide and began dancing a three-legged cha-cha at our feet. She stumbled and twirled, wagging her tail as she snuffed and snorted at us for attention. Bella’s clumsy performance was undeniably awkward but profoundly adorable, and she kept at it until we all broke down and showered her with affection. We giggled and cried together while Bella licked at our faces. All of our compounded emotions poured out in one cathartic mess of paws and ponytails.

              “Don’t let me interrupt the party,” Micah stomped down the last half of the stairs. Zander was behind him, carrying an arm full of blankets and an apologetic grimace.

              “Micah,” Riley gasped, rising to her feet. “We were just—”

              “Don’t, Ry.” He cut her off, stomping down last few steps. “Just, don’t.”

              “I was just…” she whispered, her eyes pleading with him. “They were trying to cheer me up.”

              “Yeah, I can see that you were real torn up. Here,” he said, thrusting a pair of pink tennis shoes and crisp white socks into Riley’s hands. “It’s not like my mom needs them anymore.”

              Micah flung the front door open and stormed through it into the night. It banged hard against the wall behind it and knocked down a picture frame. Riley bent to pick it up, choking back a sob as she cleared away the broken glass.

              Micah was maybe five or six in the photo. His sandy blond hair formed a messy halo around his head, as his mother pushed him high on a swing. A huge smile lit up his tiny face as he soared through the air— a smile that matched his mother’s. Riley ran her finger along little Micah’s face, slid the picture from its frame and tossed the broken pieces aside. She carefully put the photograph into her pink backpack, kicked off her ballet flats, and quietly slid her feet into the new footwear

              “Riley, you can’t let Mic get to you,” Zander said, from a couple stairs up. “He’s just upset. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

              “It’s okay, Zander,” she said, sliding her backpack over her shoulders. “Falisha was right. This is his decision.”

              She took a deep breath, stuck out her chin, and stepped out through the door. I was worrying over Zander’s ribs when Jake sauntered in from the kitchen, a few minutes later. He looked sullen but much less bloody, as he handed me a bag of half frozen peas.

              “Found these buried in the freezer,” he said. “Got one for my face and figured Zander could use one for his ribs too.”

              “Thanks, Jake— for everything,” I said. “Don’t torture yourself over what happened. You did what you had to do.”

              “Sure, I did.” Jake shook his head as he reached for the front door. “How do I explain that to Micah…or to his Mom?”

              He raised his makeshift ice pack back to his face and left the house. There was nothing I could say that would erase the pain in his eyes. Like his broken nose and black eye, this wound would just have to heal on its own and both would leave a mark. I finished wrapping Zander’s ribs, two of which were very broken and stuffed the frozen peas under the ace bandage to hold it in place. He swallowed down a couple Ibuprofen tablets and we made our way to the front sidewalk where the rest of our friends were waiting. Micah closed the gate behind us.

              “Can you?” Micah handed Zander a glass bottle with a rag hanging out of it. “I— I just can’t.”

              “You’re sure?” Zander looked down at the bottle in his hands.

              “There’s nothing left for me here.” Micah flicked his lighter and lit the cloth that dangled from the mouth of the bottle. “Please, Z, just do it.”

              “Bye, Aunt Julie,” Zander whispered, as he took aim and launched the bottle into the air towards the house.

              A trail of flames sliced through the darkness, as the firebomb sailed towards its target. It shattered through the window on the second floor and within seconds, the room was completely engulfed. The fire spread quickly, belching angry black smoke into the sky as it devoured the house. Micah’s face was completely void of emotion, his eyes reflecting the blaze that raged before us. The bright amber force erased his home, his mother and any chance he may have had for a normal life.

              As we turned our back on fire and headed east, I found myself hoping that white picket fence would burn to ash with the rest of the house. Its existence in this world seemed like a sick joke at this point.

Chapter 30

Patients and Patience

               “Jesus!” Falisha jumped at a loud clap of thunder. “I hope that means it’s going to rain.”

              “I don’t know,” Jake said, staring up at the sky as he caught up to her. “I really don’t like the look of those clouds, though. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Green clouds at night?”

              “It’s pretty much creeping me out,” Falisha agreed.

              They looked like thick tufts of cotton hanging in a low curtain. A solid band of black sky stopped them just shy of the horizon, like an invisible barrier. Their jade-gray masses twisted and swirled against the night sky, like heavy cream in a cup of steaming black coffee. Even through the blue filter of my new enhanced vision (which, yeah, still weirded me out), the churning colors above were enough to give speed to my tired feet. Even if the rules of the universe had changed since Solar Storm Icarus, green skies would likely always mean trouble in the Midwest.

              “How long till sun-up?” I asked, yanking my pack higher.

              “It’s hard to tell with all these clouds,” Zander said. “Maybe two hours…tops.”

              “There’s no way in hell we are making it to Morrison before then, you guys,” Riley groaned, her short legs barely carrying her at pace, as it was. “It’s, seriously, like fifteen miles.”

              “We should head for Junker’s.” Jake pointed ahead, down Route 30. “It’s maybe another mile and a half from here, at the most. If Johnnie is there, I’m sure he’d let us stay.”

              “And if he isn’t?” Riley asked.

              “Then, he won’t be there to say no, will he?” Jake shrugged.

              “Hold up,” Falisha scrunched up her nose at Jake, her brows knitting together. “You are not seriously suggesting we stay at Junker’s Farm, are you? As in that uber-gross garbage dump of a giant red barn, in the middle of a cornfield?”

              “Don’t be such a diva,” Jake said, lowering the bag of peas from his swollen eye. “J.J.’s place is actually really nice. The yard is a real hoarder’s paradise, sure, but unless you have a better idea….”

              “Yeah, right,” Micah muttered under his breath. It was the first time he had spoken since we left his house.

              The air around us was starting to crackle with energy. The clouds folded in on themselves like carnival taffy on an old puller. Suddenly, the hair on my arms stood on end. I brushed at it absently, trying to calm my nerves. Something ominous was brewing in the skies above and we didn’t have time to argue about it. We needed to get inside, and fast.

              “I have a really bad feeling about this,” Jake said, staring above him as he walked.

              “Jake’s right, Falisha. Junker’s is our best bet,” Zander said. “I know it’s not the Hilton, but we can’t afford to be picky. The next farm or house is a good four or five miles down the highway.”

              “Whatever,” Falisha shrugged. “At this point, I’d be happy with something resembling a pillow and clean water.”

              “Maybe we will get lucky and find something useful,” Jake said. “Mom and I found Christa a bike there, last summer. He may have a few we can, umm,
borrow
.”

              “Oh-em-gee, if you found a bike, that would be amazers,” Riley swooned, hugging Jake’s arm as she walked at his side. “I would like to thank you in advance, on behalf of my formerly non-existent calf muscles, for finding us a better way to travel.”

              The music of our strained laughter was short lived. A low rumble of thunder rolled across the silent sky, swallowing it up like a misplaced base-drum solo. Silenced by the skies above, we trudged along quietly at the shoulder of the highway that led out of town. We had not passed any vehicles in some time. As ominous as the empty road felt, I was grateful for the reprieve. The few cars we had encountered after we left city limits had been abandoned, the windows spattered with the same thick black goo we had seen in many of the others, littered the streets around town.

              As soon as it was safe to move again, our next destination was Morrison. It was the next town over and only about ten miles past Junker’s Farm. With any luck, we would get there in one piece, find Micah’s dad, and reunite Jake with his family at the hospital. At some point, we would also head to Zander’s, where we would hopefully find some answers.

              What was the connection between Gunther and Zander’s father?

              What were they hiding…and from whom?

              I kept my senses alert as we walked, reaching out into the shadows with my new found abilities. The pull had started to die down the farther we got from town, but the lapse did little to help relax my nerves. I still didn’t understand what was happening to me, but my connection to the infected gave us an advantage that could not be denied— even if it did scare the hell out of me.

              We had been walking for nearly an hour when the first crack of lightning lit up the sky. It burst free of the clouds, obliterating a tall oak tree that stood alone in the bean field to the west of us. Sparks shot into the sky as flaming shards of wood flew into the air and scattered across the ground. Immediately after, a second strike sliced a foxhole into the soil less than one hundred yards from the smoking remnants of the first. Everyone froze, our eyes wide with shock and horror.

              “Go, go, go!” Jake took off at a dead run, the rest of us on his heel as sharp bursts of white-hot electricity started raining down on all sides of us. Five hundred yards down the road was an old white house, partially hidden by an enormous red barn. Jake waved his arms over his head and pointed at it. “There!”

              I could hardly hear him over the sound of my own heart beating in my ears and the sizzling cracks around us. I followed Jake as he sprinted across the highway to the opposite shoulder. The bolts were striking everywhere now, flashing white against the green sky with each sporadic eruption.

              Zander grabbed my hand as we ran and tugged me in his wake. We quickly passed Micah, who, aside from his general proximity, had barely acknowledged any of us since his house went up in flames. Falisha and Riley were like a frantic shadow, never straying more than a few feet behind Jake as we spanned the distance to the farm. We crested the top of the hill, just as a bolt of lightning split the pavement a few yards behind us.

              “
Holy hell
!” Falisha screamed, grabbing onto Jake’s hand as she took off across the lawn. “Let’s go, damn it!”

              The huge red monster of a barn was beyond dilapidated. There were gaping holes in the roof and every window appeared to be broken. Large sections of sideboard had been stripped free of the building’s framework and the entire structure leaned slightly to the left.

              The faded, old, death-trap of a shed sat in the eye of a garbage hurricane, in the massive sea of junk that separated us from the shelter of the house. The piles of “antiques” were, little more, than a hodge-podge of mismatched windows, rusty old farm equipment, and furniture. Ancient hand-tools, golf clubs, and assorted wooden crates littered the ground between each of the stacks, making it next to impossible to see a clear path to the other side.

              “Be careful and follow me,” Jake shouted, as he expertly wound through the maze of precariously stacked randomness.

              We kept our arms tight against our bodies as we navigated our way through the tetanus garden. The lightning storm created a strobe light effect that messed with our depth perception and made the journey even more dangerous. As we rounded a tall pile of wooden chairs, we found ourselves surrounded by old umbrellas, stacks of rebar, and metal lawn sculptures. We were walking through a forest of lightning rods, in the midst of the single greatest electrical storm I had ever witnessed.

              We had just emerged from the hazardous maze, when a loud crack spliced through the shadows behind us, scattering the pile of metal flamingo sculptures we had just passed. Orange sparks lit up the junkyard like fireworks, sending one of the metal birds flying through the air…straight towards Riley.

              A stabbing pain erupted behind my eyes and the scene around me began to waver. In the span of a breath, everything slowed nearly to the point of stillness. I was hardly aware of my own body as I ripped the pack from my shoulders and launched it into the air. It spun through the air like a throwing star, hitting Riley dead-on in the back of her knees. The force of the impact knocked her legs out from under her. Riley’s hands shot out in front of her as she went hurtling towards the ground.

              The sparking flamingo sailed just inches above her, grazing the loose hairs on the top of her head. The bird’s sharp metal legs sunk effortlessly into the ground less than a foot from where Riley had skidded to a halt. For me, it all happened in super slow motion, but to everyone else it had been merely the blink of an eye. By the time I reached Riley’s side, time had caught up with me and Riley had only just registered her impact with the gravel.

              “What the hell?” she shouted, her eyes wide with confusion as she eyed the wobbling, red-hot statue in front of her.

              I lowered myself to the ground and scooped under her arms to help her up. The metal flamingo statue was still glowing orange from the intense heat of the lightning, as it shook and sizzled in the ground. Smoke was circling in the air around the lawn ornament. A small, blue rivulet of electricity rolled up the bird and disappeared from the end of its beak.

              “How did you…what the—?” She stammered, still staring wide-eyed, as I lifted her to her feet. “Holy shit, Liv. That thing…it would have killed me!”

              “Are you okay, Riley?” I asked, noting the blood on her hands and knees.

              “Yeah, I— yeah,” Riley said, still unable to take her eyes off the wobbling bird.

              Micah stepped in our direction, but stopped himself short and slowly walked away shaking his head. Our eyes met momentarily, but he quickly dodged my glare and disappeared toward the house.

              “Asshole,” I muttered under my breath, then focused my attention back on my best friend. “You’re bleeding! Jesus, Ry, I’m so sorry.”

              Her hands were scraped up and dirty, but the blood saturating the front of her jeans was of bigger concern. I knelt down to get a closer look, but she shooed my worried hands away and slid her arm into mine. “I’ll take scraped knees over electrified impalement, any day. Let’s get the hell out of here!”

              “Back door,” Jake shouted, pointing toward the house. We all took off and scrambled through the door and into the relative safety of Junker Johnnie’s house.

              Johnnie’s home was not at all what I expected. Unlike the chaos we had encountered outside, the inside of Johnnie’s house was immaculate. Intricate wood moldings stretched out before us, spanning the length of the sitting room. Matching wood trim and embellishments framed each doorway and window. Ten-inch crown moldings ran the perimeter of the ceiling, forming a pristine border against the silken brocade wallpaper that adorned each vertical surface.

              Insanely detailed cornice carvings— angels, cupids, even mermaids, beckoned from above at the center of each doorframe and cornice. Every piece of furniture in the parlor was clean and straight, each hard surface sleek, and free of dust. The juxtaposition between inside and out was disorienting.

              “Hello,” Jake yelled, sliding through the doorway at the far side of the room. “Johnnie? Is anybody here?”

              His voice trailed off in the distance as he searched the bottom floor of the house. Riley winced as she pulled at a small piece of gravel embedded in her palm. Zander laced our hands together and scraped his hair back as he looked around the room in awe. Falisha pulled a chair over for Riley to sit on then peaked out the door on the far side of the room, watching for Jake. Micah was stewing quietly in the corner and refused to make eye contact with anyone, including Riley.

              “What is that god-awful smell?” Falisha’s nose wrinkled.

              “Probably just the food from the fridge going bad,” Zander said, scrunching his nose as he watched Micah cross to the other side of the room. “Smells like rotten meat.”

              “All clear,” Jake said, popping through the door behind us. Everyone jumped, including Bella, who barked her frustrations as he strolled past her and into the room.

              “What the
hell,
Jake?” Falisha barked, swatting at him as he slid past her. “How did you do that?”

              “Sorry about that, guys. Didn’t mean to scare you,” Jake laughed, dodging glares as he crossed into the sitting room from the rear. “These old four-squares are like mazes. The layout pretty much leads you in a full loop. Anyway, I didn’t see any sign of Johnnie, or anyone else for that matter.”

              “Guess we have the place to ourselves, then,” Riley said, propping her feet up on another chair, and hissing when the denim brushed her injury.