by Alex Barnett
Ava screamed louder than she ever had in her entire life.
The sound echoed around the court, and Jill started jerking against the Burnout’s grip. Too late. She scrambled back against the wooden slats of Emily’s fence, but the man just moved with her, looming over her. And then it was on her.
“Jill! Jill! Help, someone help!”
She heard shouts from behind her, but the Burnout was jerking Jill in close, eerily silent as the silver veins glowed brighter, bathing Jill’s face in the light. Jill screamed, high and terrified. And then the man was dragging her down, pulling her down to the ground and crouching over her body like an animal and…and…
Another figure appeared at the gate. A woman, this time, with long, stringy hair and a ripped bathrobe. And another was behind her.
Another.
Another.
They spilled out of Emily’s yard, falling on Jill’s thrashing body like starving wolves. Jill’s cries filled the court, and Ava was just standing there, screaming. Screaming, and screaming as shouts came from the Royce’s house, as gunshots split the air. One of the Burnouts near Jill dropped to the ground, but there were more, more, more and Jill—
Jill was going to Burn.
The realization slammed into her. Jill was dead. Jill was dead. The Burnouts swarmed her, the silver streaks on their skin glowing, glowing…moving. Flowing like water, spider webbing out in weird, geometric patterns that twisted down arms and wrists, pooling in the hands grasping and clawing at Jill. Before Ava’s horrified eyes, the silver light seemed to spread onto Jill’s body, sinking into her exposed skin. This.
This was not right. None of the news reports had said anything about this.
The Burnouts were still coming; were starting to turn towards her with their horrible, glowing eyes and silver streaks were racing over Jill’s face. Her struggles were slowing. Her mouth opened in one last terrible shriek—and then she fell silent. Stopped moving. The Burnouts lurched away from her, leaving her sprawled on the ground by the gate, and Ava could already see her skin going pale and gray. Her face was tilted towards Ava, and her eyes…her eyes.
They were white.
Ava couldn’t move. Jill was Burning, and it shouldn’t be happening this fast and she had to…she had to—
“Ava! RUN!” The words preceded a hail of gunfire that mowed down at least half a dozen Burnouts swarming.
Swarming Jill’s body.
Thick fountains of blood splashed up from the shots, and Ava could suddenly move again. She stumbled backwards with a cry, falling down only to roll to her knees. She got up, stumbling once, twice, before she gained her feet again.
“Jilly! Jill, no! No!”
The cry—the howl, anguished and broken—came from the Royces’ front yard. Mike and Andrew stood shoulder to shoulder, weapons raised, while Iris and Emily tried to hustle Zack onto the front porch. Andrew’s face…even from a distance, Andrew’s face was horrible to see. Jim Perry and Eric Grant were scuttling down the sides of the van, Eric clutching the rifle.
The Burnouts were still coming. Shambling, lurching, pouring out of Emily’s back yard, crashing through the open gate in wave after wave. There were already more than a dozen tramping through Emily’s yard, ignoring Jill’s body—her body, God, Jill was one of them—to start towards Ava and the others.
“Ava, get over here!” Mike shouted. “Eric! Jim!”
“Ava!” Emily, this time. She sounded desperate.
Ava swallowed hard, then turned and sprinted for Mike and Andrew. There were bursts of gunfire going off all around her, high pitched whines from a blaster, and Ava couldn’t help the whimpering screams that clawed out of her throat with each shot. Mike and Andrew were the only ones shooting, she realized…the only ones sure enough of their aim not to hit her as she ran. She risked a glance over her shoulder as she leaped over the curb in front of the Royce’s house. The Burnouts were still swarming out of the side gate in Emily’s yard. Some of them were moving slowly, but more were darting through with frightening speed. They boiled out of the gate like ants out of a kicked nest.
“Everyone inside!” Mike bellowed, reaching out as Ava got close enough and shoving her behind him.
A fresh bolt of terror shot through Ava. They couldn’t try to hide from the Burnouts—the things were already heading for the house, spreading out over the circle of the court. There wouldn’t be enough time for everyone to make a run for the barricades and get over out into the neighborhood. Besides…they had no supplies, no extra ammo. There were emergency bags in the houses, but there wasn’t time. The court was full of Burnouts, and they were still coming.
Ava scrambled up the stairs, almost straight into Emily’s arms. The older woman pulled her into the house. Iris was already in the front entryway, tears streaming down her face as she screamed for Jim, shoving Zack through the door behind her. Ava’s own face was wet, and her hands were shaking so hard she was surprised they hadn’t vibrated off the ends of her wrists.
“How did they get in? How did they get in?!” Iris shrieked.
Mike and Andrew put a few more of the Burnouts down, backing slowly up towards the porch steps. Ava pulled away from Emily to grab the doorjamb, watching her friend’s grandfather with wild eyes. Andrew kept looking over at the spot where Jill had been dragged down, at her limp body just lying there as Burnouts stepped over it.
“Andy, move it!” Mike snapped, hurrying his steps. Andrew hesitated, his steps dragging even as he kept firing at the herd of Burnouts with grim efficiency. “You can’t do anything for her…we need you, damn it!”
Eric and Jim raced up the stairs and into the house. Now that there was no risk of hitting Ava, Eric risked a few shots into the crowd. There was a loud thump from the living room, and then Zack appeared in the hallway, groping one hand along the wall as he navigated the unfamiliar space. Without thinking about it, Ava darted forward and grabbed one of his hands, linking their arms when he immediately latched onto her.
“You okay?” he demanded. She could only clutch his hands tighter.
Mike and Andrew stormed into the front hall. Mike slammed the door behind him, throwing the deadbolt and turning to face them with an expression that made Ava shrink back.
“Bar the door, block the windows, much as you can. Eric, check the back. We’re gonna have to jump the fence. Em, Iris, get the go-bags from upstairs. Everyone else grab a gun. Just like we practiced, people!” The orders came rapid-fire as Mike slapped another charge cartridge into the receiver of his laser rifle.
“This doesn’t happen,” Zack said numbly. “This isn’t supposed to happen.”
“Now!” Mike barked. Andrew and Jim ran for the living room, and Ava heard the scrape of the couch being dragged across the floor. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“Ava…Ava!” Mike was suddenly in front of her, one hand on her shoulder. “Not now, Av, you can’t do this right now.”
“They’re breaking through to the back yard!” Eric’s panicked shout rang out through the house, and Mike’s shoulders sagged. Ava blinked, trying to clear the tears from her vision. A series of loud bangs sounded from the kitchen. More scraping of furniture across the floors. Jim and Andrew barreled out of the living room, the couch shoved before them. They nearly ran Zack down, and Mike grabbed the boy by one arm, jerking him out of the way.
“Can you load other guns, or just yours?” Mike demanded. For a moment, Zack just blinked at him, disoriented. “Reed!” Mike hissed, shaking Zack a little.
“Yeah, uh yeah…I can handle anything you got.”
There was movement at the Royces’ front door—the outline of pale hands pressing against the frosted glass panels on either side. Jim and Andrew shoved the couch up against the door, and raced back into the living room. Eric ran from the kitchen, sweat standing out in beads on his forehead and running down his pale face.
“All right, Ava, you and the kid gotta keep us armed, got it? Just like I taught you, sweetie. You keep the weapon
s loaded.” Ava stared up at Mike as what he was saying sunk in. They were cut off in the back yard…cut off from the fences. They would have to make a stand inside the house.
“What? Mike, no, I can’t, I’ll—I’ll mess it up.” Ava’s breath was coming too fast; sharp, panting gasps that left her chest feeling constricted.
“Mike!” Andrew hollered from the living room.
Pale fists pounded on the glass panels on either side of the door; on the door itself. There was a final thud in the living room, the cocking of weapons.
“You can. You will, Ava. We need you.” Then Mike was racing into the living room, leaving Ava gasping and shaking against the wall.
The door rattled in its frame.
“Ava, c’mon!” Mike called, and there was fear in his words, now. Ava took a deep, shuddering breath and moved towards the living room, Zack trailing along behind her with one hand sliding along the wall again.
“Where’s the guns?” Zack asked as they slipped into the living room. “They brought them in here, but where’d they set them?”
Ava cast wild eyes around the room. Mike and Andrew were crouched behind the table they used to serve food at meal times, flipped up on its side like something out of an old Western. Jim and Eric flanked them on either side, Jim focused on the large picture window that faced the street, Eric’s attention split between the window and the short walkway that led to the entry hall. From his vantage point, he would be able to shoot at anything that got through the front door, as well.
The Burnouts might get through the front door.
Her heart rate skyrocketed again, and she gasped for breath—too fast and too high, and it was making her dizzy.
“Ava, where are the guns?” Zack asked again, more urgently. He sounded calm. So calm, and Ava tried to focus on that; tried to focus on his voice and not the way her hands just would not…stop…shaking.
“Th-the back wall. Everything’s by the back wall,” she finally managed to get out. Their entire cache of weapons, everything that was not currently in someone’s hands. All of the boxes of bullets that went with the guns—different sizes and calibers, and Ava struggled to remember which bullets went with which guns. The blaster cartridges were mostly universal. She grabbed Zack’s hand and all but dragged him over to the weapons. They dropped to their knees and Zack immediately began running his hands over the boxes around him, the muzzles of the guns.
“Which box is which?” he asked, still in that calm voice.
There was a hollow-sounding thud as the Burnouts began to pound against the picture window. They hadn’t taken the cover down, sacrificing the view outside for the glimmer of a chance that if the Burnouts couldn’t see them, they might lose interest before the glass gave.
Mike had taught her this. Made her practice with it. Drilled it into her head.
“H-here.” She took another deep breath and shook her head. She grabbed his hand and guided it to the correct box. “Here,” she said again, forcing her voice to firm up. “The shotgun shells are to the left and the—the military rounds are next to those. Charge cartridges are far right.”
Zack nodded to himself.
There was a vicious slam against the glass of the picture window. Ava heard it start to crack and give.
“Hey…hey, we can do this, okay?” Zack whispered beside her, flailing one hand out until it connected with her arm. He took her hand, squeezing it. “You and me, we’re gonna get through this together, okay?”
“Get ready,” Mike said, his voice barely above a whisper.
And no.
No.
She was not going to die. Not like this.
Ava scrubbed at her eyes, and grabbed one of the clips for Jim’s pistol. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. Together.”
12
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Caleb chanted under his breath as they ran.
The only sound in the street were their footsteps, the rhythmic slap of rubber on asphalt echoing weirdly. There was noise growing behind them, though; other footsteps that grew faster and more numerous by the moment. They approached the sharp turn that would take them onto Brook Haven Street, and from there it was only a couple of blocks to Mountain Brook. Lydia pushed for more speed. The silent houses on either side of them were a blur in the deepening shadows.
“We can’t—can’t get too far ahead of them!” Caleb shouted.
Lydia risked a glance over her shoulder, and swore she felt ice bloom in her blood. The swarm following them looked enormous, larger than it had looked from the Royce’s window. Most of them were staggering, the jerky, almost mechanical gaits Lydia had become familiar with over the past three months. Some of them…
Some of them were not.
“Uh…not an issue! Faster is better,” she shouted back. Caleb looked behind them, and let loose with a string of curses that would have made Grandpa proud. “Basically,” Lydia agreed, and pushed herself harder.
They ran for their lives, and Lydia prayed to anyone who might be listening that they would not have to deal with anything lying in wait ahead of them. Despite the number of Burnouts following, the things were still silent. No screams or cries, no panting breaths. The only sound to indicate the Burnouts were behind them was the echo of footsteps. The things were getting closer. Closer and closer, and she was running harder than she’d ever run in her life.
“We’re gonna make it,” Caleb called. Lydia couldn’t believe he still had breath to shout. “It’s all right, we’re gonna make it.” They turned onto Brook Haven, and relief flooded through Lydia. The street ahead of them was deserted, no figures waiting for them. A few still bodies lay in the street, lying half on the curb, or stretched out in front of an abandoned car. Lydia recalled the shots that had rung out the night before right before Caleb and Zack had appeared, though, and paid them little mind.
Almost there. They were almost there.
The first of the things pursuing them rounded the bend onto Brook Haven, and here it got tricky. They had to make sure the entire swarm followed them…it would do no good to circle through the neighborhood and get back to Meadowbrook Court, only to have to take out another set of stragglers and start the cycle over. They needed to lead all the things away. And that meant making sure all of them kept chasing them.
“We’re gonna make it!” Caleb shouted again, and Lydia grinned fiercely as she realized he was right. They were only a block and half away from Mountain Brook. The Burnouts racing along behind them had gained…but not enough. They were going to make it.
She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
They were a hundred yards from Mountain Brook, well ahead of the group of Burnouts, when Caleb darted around an abandoned car with all four doors hanging open. As he ran past, a long, muscled arm snapped out of the passenger side near the floor. It wrapped around Caleb’s knee with the speed of a striking snake. He cried out in surprise, his arms swinging in a wild pinwheel.
“CALEB!” Lydia shrieked, skidding to a halt. Caleb was already bringing his blaster to bear, but the Burnout gave his leg a sharp jerk, unbalancing him and sending him toppling. It boiled out of the floor of the car, eyes gleaming, jaws hanging open. Caleb kicked and flailed, trying to get his gun up. It had been a man, even more muscled than Caleb, and it was fast. The thing’s other hand latched onto Caleb’s belt and dragged him forward, all in the space of a heartbeat.
Caleb jerked and twisted wildly, trying to bring the gun up while staying out of range of the teeth, but he was jammed up against the still-open car door. Lydia tried to track the Burnout’s head, but Caleb was moving too much for her to get a clear shot. The Burnout was halfway out of the car, swarming over Caleb like a rabid animal, its mouth still gaping. How much contact with a Burnout was too much? How long did it take to infect someone?
Familiar warmth shot through her. She clenched her fingers around the blaster and pushed. The Burnout attacking Caleb jerked as though it had been struck. Its whole upper body lifted off Caleb like someon
e had grabbed the back of its neck and yanked, and Lydia fired. Caleb was scrambling out from under the still body even as it slumped down to the ground, still half in and half out of the car. Caleb wrenched himself to his knees as Lydia lowered her weapon.
She blinked rapidly a few times, and looked up to find Caleb staring at her with wide eyes. She dashed forward and grabbed his arm, helping him out from under the bulk of the Burnout.
“Come on!” Caleb yelled as the two of them took off again, racing ahead of the crowd of Burnouts. “It’s just up here!”
Lydia almost cried out when the green and white street sign marking Mountain Brook came into view. Almost there. They were almost there. Caleb poured on another burst of speed, his long legs outdistancing her by a few feet. Lydia lengthened her stride as well, pushing her already burning legs for just a few more inches between her and the Burnouts. Caleb already had the charge rod out, and Lydia started fishing the keys out of her pocket.
“There!” Caleb whooped.
Lydia’s head snapped up, zeroing in on the vehicle Caleb was pointing at. An older model Ford truck was parked haphazardly in the middle of the street a few yards away. It was black or dark blue, and a mismatched bright red camper shell was over the bed. The gas cap hung open on the side. Caleb whooped again and pumped his fist in the air.
“Go, go, go!” Lydia hollered, and they sprinted the remaining distance.
She made sure the immediate area was clear of Burnouts, before locking her attention on the truck. They split up as soon as they reached the vehicle, Caleb darting around to the gas tank and keying open the secondary port right below it, while Lydia yanked the keys out of her pocket and threw open the driver’s side door. She scrambled into the cab, her stomach unclenching the slightest bit once she was able to shut the door behind her. She heard a hollow, metallic thump as Caleb pulled the depleted charge rod out of its port and just dropped it on the ground.
There was no time to rest, however. She scrabbled at the ignition switch, shoving the key in and tensing as she waited for Caleb’s signal. She stared out the windshield, focused on the Brook Haven intersection. The Burnouts were appearing around the corner—slower now that she and Caleb were out of their direct sight. They would have to do something to get their attention again if any of them started heading back the other way. She swallowed, her breathing still ragged in her ears.