“God, Riley,” I said, lunging at her and wrapping her in a tight hug. “Please, just be careful, okay?”
“Always,” she said, patting me lightly on the back. “Now, let go of me. I have a big hunk of stupid to seduce.”
My heart was beating in my throat as I watched her sashay off in Banks’ direction. I felt every step she took like a blow to my already aching chest. As soon as she was close enough, she started singing softly. I recognized the tune right away. It was their song—hers and Micah’s.
“I didn’t know Riley could sing,” Zander whispered, clutching my hand tighter. “She has a beautiful voice.”
“Yeah,” I gasped, suddenly remembering I needed to breathe, as her soft lilting voice drifting on the breeze through the empty streets.
“Hello?” Banks shouted. He tossed his cigarette to the ground and stared down the darkened street. “Is someone there?”
Riley kept singing, her sweet voice echoing against the abandoned houses that surrounded us. The melody grew louder and more determined as she made her way across the street and stepped into the beam of a porta-light affixed to a nearby pole.
“Who’s there?” shouted Banks. He raised his gun across his chest and trained it on Riley as she rounded the end of the hulled out van across the street. “Put your hands where I can see them and step slowly towards me.”
“Oh, thank God,” Riley said, pouring on the innocence as she put her hands in the air. “I thought I would never find you.”
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Banks kept his gun still but raised his head away from the sight.
“My name is…Tara,” she said, holding her hands up. “I ran into some soldiers just south of here and they told me to come here, ask for someone named Banks, and that he’d help me.”
“Who?” Banks said, looking confused. “Who sent you?”
“It was, umm…” Riley said, biting her lip.
“Come on, Riley,” I growled under my breath, willing her to think on her feet.
“Lincoln,” she shouted, her eyes brightening. “It was Private Lincoln. Wait, are you Banks?”
“Hold up,” Banks lowered his gun a fraction, the corner of his mouth curving up. “Lincoln sent you here and said to ask for me, specifically?”
“Yep. I was told you were the best, and that you would take care of me,” Riley said, lowering her hands and pushing her breasts together with her arms. She was really laying it on thick. “Is that true, Sir? Are you going to take care of me?”
“Sure, sweetheart,” Banks said, lowering his gun to his side with a cocky grin. “Come on over here so I can get a look. You know, make sure you don’t have any injuries and that.”
Riley giggled shyly and stepped closer to him, beaming her best innocent smile. Banks was eating it up, his predatory grin widening with every inch she gained. The look on his face said he had less than altruistic thoughts running through his mind. It took everything in my power not to launch my knife through the air and drop him where he stood. She was just a few feet away now and he almost stepped closer to her. At the last second, he stopped himself, looking down at the circle around his feet. Frustration flashed across his face but was quickly replaced by a smile of satisfaction as Riley bridged the gap between them and placed her hands lightly on his chest.
“Lincoln said you were strong, but wow,” Riley smiled up at him.
“Ha!” Banks smirked. “I knew that bitch had a crush on me.”
“Who could blame her?” Riley said, biting her bottom lip as she stared up into his eyes. “I mean, look at you.”
Banks grabbed Riley’s arm suddenly, twisting it behind her as he pulled her roughly to his chest. I lunged forward but Zander caught me, his arm around my waste.
“Who the hell are you, and what are you trying to pull?” Banks spat in her face.
“I—” Riley’s voice caught in her throat as she tried to pull away. “Lincoln said—”
“Lincoln…is a guy!” Banks growled spittle flying from the corners of his mouth. “Who sent you here? Are you one of them? You infected?”
“No, I just—” Riley struggled against him. “Please, let me go. You are hurting me.”
“Bitch, you are fucking with the wrong guy on the wrong day,” he said, shaking his head as he cranked her arm tighter behind her back. “I am beyond in the mood for this.”
“Let me go, Zander!” I hissed at him. “She needs me.”
Panic swelled in my chest as I pulled against Zander’s arm, trying to rush to her. The encounter with Metz had obviously broken something inside of Banks. The look in his eyes said he wanted nothing more than to take out his frustrations on my best friend. Zander wrapped his arms around me tighter, refusing to let me go.
“She’s got this, Liv, just give her a chance,” he grunted against my ear, his grip unwavering.
“Stop,” Riley whimpered.
“No can do, Sugar,” Banks shook his head, then ran his finger down the side of Riley’s neck, dipping into the top of her shirt. “Shame, too. I have a feeling this would have been a lot of fun.”
“Please?” Riley said, tears welling in her eyes. “I’ll…I’ll do anything.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Banks said, tapping the end of her nose. “It’s tempting, but you ain’t worth the trouble.”
Riley stopped struggling, but her shoulders tensed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Banks, feeling victorious, threw his head back and laughed.
“Ahhhgghh,” Riley howled, her eyes wild as she threw her head back and slammed it hard into Banks’ face.
Stunned by the unexpected impact, he lost his grip on Riley’s arm and dropped his gun to the ground. The rifle skidded across the ground as Banks stumbled backwards and out of his circle. His feet tangled beneath him, but he fought valiantly to keep his balance. The only thing that stopped him from landing flat on his back was the front grill of his own truck. His back slammed against it, and he let out a yelp.
“You bitch!” Banks spat, as blood poured from his mouth and nose.
He clutched his jaw, his mouth agape in shock and pushed himself away from the truck, lumbering toward Riley with murder in his eyes. She may have been a bit dazed but Riley had added benefit of adrenaline and fresh emotional trauma on her side and she took full advantage of it.
As soon as Banks was in her reach, she swung an elbow into his diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him. He bent at the waist, gasping for air, but Riley was nowhere near done with him. She took a step away, cranked her leg back and kicked him right where she was sure to do the most damage. With an agonized groan, Banks cupped both hands to his injured parts and sank to his knees. He looked up at Riley, his eyes wide with shock and confusion as Riley scooped his rifle up off the ground.
“Just so you know, Private,” Riley growled in his face. “I am worth it!”
Gripping it with both hands, Riley raised the gun high over her head and slammed the butt down onto the top of Banks’ head. His eyes rolled back to the whites and he slumped to the ground like a fallen tree. His face skidded across the gravel and he landed with a sickening thud on the pavement. Zander finally released me and stayed at my heels as I took off running toward my best friend. By the time we reached her, Riley had already squared off and had the rifle trained down at Banks’ head.
“Holy hell, Riley! What was that,” I gasped, crowding her to check for injuries. The giant purple welt forming in the middle of her forehead was split by a small gash. “Are you okay? Jeez, Ry, your head is bleeding.”
“I’m fine, Liv,” she said, blowing her bangs away from the cut. “Well, that didn’t quite go according to plan, now did it?”
“Riley,” Zander smiled down at her as he clapped her on the shoulder, “that was seriously bad-ass.”
“Thanks, Z!” She smiled up at him with pride in her eyes, but quickly refocused her attention (and the gun) on the Banks. “Alright, enough of that. I will keep an eye Pervie-McSmokes-a-lot. You two need to get
moving.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” I asked.
“Just go,” she said, glaring at the soldier at her feet. Her voice was steady. “I got this.”
Chapter 38
Tactical Invasion
“I only see two,” I whispered. “It’s that guy, Corporal Metz, and another soldier; a chick, I think. They were, umm, sort of making out.”
“You’re sure?” Zander asked.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I whispered sharply at him. “He had his tongue half way down her throat, and his hands were on her—.”
“I meant are you sure there were only two?” He laughed softly, teetering a bit as his feet shifted on the landscaping rocks below.
“Oh,” I said, feeling my face heat as I steadied myself against the siding. “Sorry, yeah. There are only two people. Now, will you please put me down?”
Zander had been balancing me on his shoulders for some time now as I watched the soldiers move about inside his dad’s house. Unfortunately, the best vantage point we had was through the small section in the stained-glass window on the side of the house. Zander’s hands were wrapped protectively around my upper thighs— which at the moment, were wrapped around his neck. While the position offered me a decent enough view of the goings on inside the house, it was quite uncomfortable for several reasons.
“Right, sorry,” Zander said, laughing softly as he lowered me to the ground.
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” I said, grateful he could not see how red my face was. Despite the pins and needles feeling that flooded my legs, I was grateful to be back on solid ground and in a much less vulnerable position.
“Okay, there’s two of them and two of us. I like those odds.” Zander sounded confident. “I figure, the best way to handle this is head-on.”
“Which means, what, exactly?” I said, wringing my hands. The goldfish crackers I had eaten earlier that day were threatening to abandon ship.
“I am going to go in the front door,” Zander said.
“Wait, what?” I barely stopped myself from screaming at him as I grabbed the front of his shirt. “No, Zander, that’s crazy. They will—.”
“They will not be expecting it,” Zander said, placing his hands on either side of my face. “Liv, my dad taught me a lot about a little, and a little about a lot, so I am afraid you are just going to have to trust me.”
“But—” My heart was pounding in my ears.
“But nothing,” Zander said calmly. He pressed his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. “Do you trust me, Liv?”
“I— yes,” I said, my voice shaking. “I do, but…”
“Good,” he said, pressing his lips gently to the end of my nose. “There is a door around back. The lock is busted so you should have no trouble slipping in that way. Watch for my signal and be careful.”
“Zander, I’m scared,” I whispered, our lips just inches apart.
“We can do this, Liv. You can do this.” He pressed his lips firmly against mine and for a moment, the chaos of the world hushed. It was just me and Zander and that small moment of perfect stillness. Then he pulled away and gently gave me a push along the sidewalk that ran to the rear of his house. “Now, go!”
I took off running, swallowing back the loss of his touch and the ball of fear welling in my throat. I leaped over a coiled garden hose loosely piled in the middle of the walk and weaved around the bone sharp bushes that scraped at my feet. Before my legs had even registered the distance, I had reached the back corner of the house.
I slammed my back to the wall, waiting for my pulse to slow as I peeked around the corner. When I was satisfied there was no one waiting in the bushes to attack me, I rounded the corner and crept toward the back door. I kept myself pressed as tightly against the house as possible, ducking down low as I passed beneath the kitchen windows.
I reached the back door quickly but had to climb a rickety set of steps to reach it. Each of the husked out wooden treads threatened to collapse beneath my weight. I held my breath the entire way up, jumping past the last two and onto the concrete landing at the top. The screen door hung crooked on its hinges in front of me and I swore under my breath, anticipating a lack of stealth. As expected, the door creaked in protest as I attempted to pry it open.
“Shut up,” I whispered to the inanimate plane of wood. “You are going to get me killed.”
I held my breath and propped open the storm door with my hip, hoping no one had heard my argument with the rusty hinges. I leaned in close as I reached for the knob to the heavy inner door and tried to peer inside. Unfortunately, the glass had been painted black, so I had no idea what waited for me on the other side.
Perfect.
“Screw it,” I said, pushing softly against the door.
I held my breath again expecting the worst. The edge of the door scraped lightly against the frame, but unlike the outer door, offered no additional resistance. I let my breath out slowly, still very much on edge, and carefully slid through the gap in the door. I held the screen door in place, grabbed a shoe lying on the floor just inside, and used it to hold the screen door silently in place. In addition to some much needed luck, I really needed stealth on my side.
Once inside the kitchen, I dropped to a crouch behind the table and tried to steady myself. I concentrated on slowing my breathing, desperate to will away the ever-present pain in my chest. That growing sense of urgency that had started when we left Johnnies had begun to change the longer we were in town and something about it felt very wrong.
This wasn’t the same as the steady pull I had felt with Gunther, Johnnie, or even Micah’s mom. The new sensation was far more abrasive than anything I had experienced before.
It felt hollow. Angry.
The strain tugged at me, tormenting like an itch that couldn’t be scratched. Like thousands of tiny clawed hands were yanking me every which way and then disappeared before I could swat at them. The sound of a door slamming, snapped me out of my own head, and into the here and now.
“Lucy! I’m hooooome!” Zander sang, as he strode through the front door.
“Hold it right there,” Metz shouted, aiming his rifle straight at Zander’s face. “Who the hell are you, and what the fuck do you think you are doing?”
“Take it easy, boss,” Zander said, putting his hands up in surrender. He took a step closer to Metz and then there was a second gun barrel trained on him.
“Stop right there,” said the female soldier. Her voice shook nearly as much as her trigger finger. “L-look at his hand. He’s…he’s infected, Corporal.”
“Hold your position, Private Nicholas,” Metz said, hooking his finger around the trigger of his very large gun. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing here? And I suggest you answer me, kid. The next time I have to ask, I can promise I won’t be nearly as polite about it.”
“Name’s Ricky,” Zander said, winking at me as he waved his blackened hand at Private Nicholas. “Ricky Ricardo.”
“Uh-huh,” Metz said flatly, sidestepping himself between Zander and Nicholas. “Well, Mr. Ricardo…”
“Call me Ricky,” Zander said, calmly tilting his head to the right.
“Right. Ricky,” Metz growled, taking a step closer to Zander, effectively blocking Private Nicholas. “Perhaps you could explain to me exactly how you managed to get past the armed checkpoints?”
“Just lucky, I guess,” Zander shrugged, smiling as he lowered his hands.
“That hand of yours would suggest otherwise and I suggest you get both of them back in the air,” Metz said, smirking back at him as he flicked the safety. “Private Nicholas, would you be so kind as to detain our dear friend Ricky? I do believe our friends at MCH would love to meet him.”
Nicholas did not respond. Zander kept his eyes on Metz, but held his hands out, wrists together, and smiled. Metz stared viciously at Zander and took another step closer.
“Now, Nicholas!” Mets barked, his eyes still on Zander. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you
Ricky, but I’m afraid your luck has just run out.”
“Has it?” Zander crossed his arms over his chest and nodded over Metz’s shoulder. “I’m not so sure about that, Corporal.”
The soldier followed Zander’s eye line and craned his head over his shoulder. Private Nicolas stood still at his flank, with her gun dangling from her hooked finger. I was behind her with my knife pinned against her throat. I knocked her gun loose and it clattered to the ground at our feet.
“Your turn,” I grunted to Metz, pressing the knife in just far enough to make her squeak. “Drop it, or your girlfriend springs a leak.”
“Trista!” Metz lunged in my direction.
Before Metz could get his footing, Zander swept his legs out from under him and the soldier crashed to the floor. Zander dove on top of him and they struggled for control of the rifle. Though the soldier was stronger, Zander had the better position and matched him for purchase.
Metz grew tired of the stalemate and drove his knees into Zander’s chest, flinging him and the gun, straight over the soldier’s head. The gun skidded across the smooth wood surface, colliding with a bookshelf about ten feet away. Zander was flat on his back. He landed so hard the pictures fell off the wall and crashed to the floor.
“Zander, the gun!” I screamed, holding tight to Private Nicholas’s jacket as she tried to wrench away.
Metz reached the gun first and my stomach sank into my shoes. I dragged Nicholas forward, using her as a shield. I figured if I could get close enough, I might be able to trip him up and buy Zander some time. Before I could test my theory, Zander came flying out of nowhere, swinging his fist through the air like a baseball bat. He slammed into the back of Metz’s head, propelling him forward. His face collided with the corner of a bookshelf. The sickening crack that followed assured me Metz would not be nearly as handsome as he had been.
“Eugene,” Private Nicholas shouted as Metz slowly collapsed in on himself.
His body hit the ground with a definitive thud, sending magazines and loose papers scattering across the scuffed floor. Zander rose slowly to his feet and backed away from Metz on wobbly legs. He slammed his back into the wall and closed his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control as he raked his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair.
Killshot (Icarus Series Book 1) Page 36