“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.
“Looks that way,” Jake said, wiping sweat from his brow. “Liv, Zander, anything on the radar?”
“Nothing,” I shrugged and Zander nodded in agreement.
“Good. Let’s set up camp until the brunt of this crazy-ass lightning passes,” Jake suggested. “We have like an hour until sunrise, anyways. With any luck, we will be able to head out later today.”
“How nocturnal,” Falisha said, rolling her eyes.
With a chorus of groans, we all shrugged off our packs and dropped them to the floor at our feet. I dug through mine, took a swig from my water bottle and retrieved a bottle of peroxide and the first aid kit. Riley’s hands and knees needed some serious attention and there was no way I was risking infection by waiting.
Zander and Jake took off in search of a basement. Micah had disappeared at some point, intent on being of little to no help, so I sent Falisha to look for food and water. Bella stood guard by the door. She was tired, but too on edge to fully relax.
“Jeez-usssss,” Riley hissed through her teeth as she peeked at her knee through the torn fabric of her jeans. “Okay, that is just beyond gross.”
“Don’t touch,” I said, swatting her hand away as I dropped to my knees on the floor. “Let me take a look at that, okay?”
The lightning throttled against the night sky, filling the room with back-to-back flashes. The strikes were even more frequent now and seemed to be brighter with every flash. The freak electrical storm appeared to show no signs of letting up anytime soon. The flickering light threw strange shadows over the strained features of Riley’s face. Her sad brown eyes searched through the shadows beyond the doorway.
“He’ll be fine,” I said, not meeting her gaze.
“I don’t know, Liv. I just—something’s not right,” Riley lowered her voice to a whisper. “I can feel it.”
“He just lost his mom, Ry,” I said, averting my eyes.
“Of course he’s a mess over his mom, but there’s more to it. Something is just off about him,” Riley said. “He’s hiding something, Liv. I can feel it.”
“I’ll talk to him if you want, but let’s get you patched up first,” I said, shaking my head. “Lose the pants.”
I tugged a crocheted blanket from the back of a nearby rocker and held it out to Riley. She grimaced as she slid her pants down past her knees and let them drop. With a sigh of relief, she wrapped the blanket around her waist and lowered herself onto the chair. Her knees looked like raw hamburger and her eyes filled with tears when she saw them.
“Look away, Ry,” I said, patting her shin lightly. “I got you, okay?”
I lay a towel below her legs and dumped the last of my water bottle over them. The pink water ran down and soaked into the cloth. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her hands shook in her lap as she wrenched the blanket between her fingers. I uncapped the peroxide and set to work cleaning up the mess I had made of my best friend’s legs.
“Talk to me, Liv,” Riley hissed.
“What do you want me to talk about?” I asked, dabbing at the raw flesh on her legs.
“I don’t care, anything. Please, I just need a distraction,” she ground out. “W—what’s it like, Liv? You know, being…um….”
“Being infected?” I finished for her.
“Yeah,” she said, looking everywhere but at my face or her leg. “What’s it like being infected?”
“It’s—” I stopped, not even knowing where to begin. “Umm.”
“Yeah?” She pressed me to continue, white knuckling the blanket as I pulled a piece of broken glass from her right knee. “Throw me a bone here, Liv. I’m trying not to scream like a little girl.”
“Sorry, let’s see. This virus, or whatever it is basically invaded my brain, latched on, and started stirring shit up in there. It’s painful, it’s scary as hell, and there is nothing I can do about it,” I said. “But, Ry, it’s also kind of amazing.”
“How so?” Riley asked, wincing as I dabbed maneuvered the torn skin on her knees.
“I dunno,” I said, setting the roll of gauze in my lap. “I don’t really understand what is happening to me, Ry, but I feel like it means something, you know? Like it’s important somehow. Does that make any sense?”
“Not really,” Riley snorted, “but then, nothing really does anymore.”
“Amen to that,” I said.
I tossed the last of the bloody cotton balls aside, uncapped the antibiotic ointment, and applied it to two large gauze pads. Riley closed her eyes and straightened her back. Her breath came in short bursts as I carefully closed the gashes on her knees with butterfly strips. After another quick rinse, I stuck a gauze pad to each one and gently wrapped them in bandages. When I was done, she finally released a shaky breath and sank back into the chair.
“Liv, what you did outside,” Riley said, finally opening her eyes.
“I’m really sorry about that, Ry,” I said, sliding the medical supplies back into my bag.
“Don’t you dare apologize for saving my life, Liv,” she admonished, shaking her head at me. “It’s just that it all happened so fast, I don’t understand—I mean, how?”
“I wish I had an answer for you,” I said, blowing a straggly hair away from my face as I gathered my supplies. “To you, it all happened in the blink of an eye. For me, it was like watching a movie in super-slow-motion. I was able to see things laid out in front of me, and I just knew what I needed to do.”
“Sweet,” Riley laughed, pantomiming super-slow karate moves. “So, it’s like the Matrix.”
“Oh my god, Ry,” I said, bursting out laughing at her antics. “You look ridiculous, but that’s exactly what it’s like!”
She started striking dramatic poses in slow motion, and I totally lost it. It was hardly the time or place for improv comedy, but it felt good to laugh with my best friend again. In spite of all that had happened to us in the last few days, Riley was still a bright spot in my life. Even before the world ended, she had been my only constant during one
of the most difficult times in my life. I would forever be grateful to her for that.
“Okay,” Riley said, struggling to subdue her laughter. “So, you basically, you have magic eyes?”
“I guess,” I shrugged, offering her a hand up. “Who the hell knows?”
“You know, they look different,” she said, staring into my eyes as she tentatively rose to her feet. She leaned in closer and tilted her head to the side. “I hadn’t really noticed it before now, what with the running for our lives and all, but your eyes, they are brighter and they sort of shimmer now.”
“Huh,” I said, feeling my face heat under her scrutiny. “Probably just the lightening playing tricks on you.”
“Maybe,” she said, sounding unconvinced. “So how does that work, exactly? Jake said it’s like night vision, I think. Is that right?”
I shrugged, zipped up my pack and tossed it over my shoulder, wincing as I (once again) forgot about the bruises. “You should probably put your pants back on.”
“Probably a good idea,” Riley said, tossing the blanket aside, as she tugged her pants back up. “Well?”
“Okay, I’m not Jake, so I can’t give you a scientific explanation, but I’ll try to make sense if I can,” I said, moving the chair out of her way. “To the human eye, darkness is no different than light; too much of either, and we cannot see, right? Our mind just cannot process it without a filter of some sort.”
“Right, like sunglasses,” Riley said, wincing as her jeans slid over her bandaged knees.
“Exactly like sunglasses,” I nodded, grimacing along with her. “For me, now, there’s a sort of blue haze over everything that filters out the shadows and the darkness that everyone else sees. So once my eyes have adjusted, I can see perfectly in the dark.”
“Oh, I get it,” she nodded. “That’s actually pretty wicked, Liv. Wait, but what about the headaches?”
“Ehh. The headaches come and go, but—” I chewed at my bottom lip.
“But?” Riley put her hands on her hips.
“The headaches I can deal with, Riley. This,” I said, clutching at my chest, “is what scares me the most.”
Killshot (Icarus Series Book 1) Page 27