Ballistic: Icarus Series, Book Two Read online

  “Like cattle sent to slaughter?” Ty raked his fingers through his hair. “That’s just…damn.”

  “Exactly,” Eli said pointing toward the nearest barricade. “It looks like they were corralling them. I think these colors mean something.”

  “Why?” Riley choked out. “Why would they do this?”

  “At first, I thought maybe they were sick. But I see no tell-tale signs of infection in any of these people,” Eli scratched his head. “In fact, aside from the marks on their hands, and the way they died, they appear to have nothing in common.”

  “Yeah they do,” Christa said as she knelt to pick something up off the ground.

  “What?” Eli snapped turning to her.

  “You said they don’t have anything in common, but they do,” Christa said strolling toward us.

  “Such as?” Eli put his hands on his hips.

  “Such as this, Einstein.” Christa rolled her eyes as she hooked the handle of a wooden cane over Eli’s shoulder. She shook her head at him and turned back toward the bodies. “I guarantee you the youngest person there is like, maybe, fifty.”

  “Huh.” Eli pushed his glasses up his nose and stood with his hands on his hips staring toward the dead. “I think you’re right, kid.”

  Christa stood at Eli’s side mimicking his position. “Those psychos totally offed all the old people.”

  “We can’t leave them like this,” Riley sobbed, clutching me in a hug. “It isn’t right, Liv.”

  “We won’t, Ry,” I said squeezing her tight while she leaned into my shoulder. “We’ll take care of them.”

  Zander and Ty ran back to the yellow section, dug through the pile of discarded belongings and returned a few minutes later with a stack of blankets to cover the bodies. Riley said a prayer and sang softly while the rest of us shrouded the dead in a multi-colored mass of fabrics. It wasn’t nearly the ceremony they deserved but, under the circumstances, it was the best last rights we could offer them. Riley was still crying when Ty lit the match and tossed it.

  “How much farther, Liv,” Jake asked softly as we ambled past the broken storefront window of the Byron Insurance Agency. He looked at Riley, then back at me, rubbing his neck anxiously. “I think everyone could use a moment.”

  “Another block or so,” I said.

  I was determined not to look back at the slow-burning pyre we had left behind. I focused instead on the shops and stores that lined either side of the street. The sign from the Granite Works across had fallen from its perch and lay up against the front of the building balanced on one of the corners. The slightest breeze would likely have sent it crashing to the ground. The neighboring workout studio had burned enough that it had collapsed in on itself and taken half of the adjacent barbershop along with it.

  Aside from the sound of our footsteps and Riley’s soft cries, we walked the rest of the way to the shop in complete silence. The ache in my chest had gotten stronger, and my head was beginning to pound, but the pain did little to distract me from the complete absence of life that surrounded us. The town of Byron was a black hole.

  Though the thick wall of clouds churned steadily overhead, the air remained unnaturally placid. For the first time in days, even the ash lay stagnant on the ground rather than swirling about in thick gusts. The fires that burned were weak and unimpressive. They, too, had become lethargic in the lull. Burning was simply too difficult.

  “I think this is the place,” I said.

  I cupped my hands around my face and peeked in through the cracked plate-glass window as I waited for the group to catch up. When I stepped back, I caught my reflection in the spidered remains of the glass that dangled from the storefront window frame. My eyes still had that strange luminescent quality they got in the dark, but they had dulled some from exhaustion and sadness.

  “Stay here while we do a sweep,” Zander said his eyes drilling into mine. “Ty?”

  “You got it, Z,” Ty slid the handgun from his waistband and clicked off the safety.

  “Please stay here, Liv,” Zander said again then he and Ty disappeared inside the store.

  “I hate this,” I groaned.

  I leaned against the ashen shell of an old bus bench and stared into the darkness after them. My body began thrumming with anxious energy the second they disappeared from my sight.

  “They will be fine, Sarge,” Falisha said propping herself on a nearby lamppost. “Your boy is strong, and Ty is a crazy-good shot. Besides, you guys have that handy monster radar. If there were any crispy-crawlies close by, you would be the first ones to know. Leeches can’t hide from you, Liv.”

  I stared down the street toward the fire that smoldered beyond the black barricade. “They aren’t the monsters I’m worried about.”

  Chapter 17

  Pedal

  La’Teke Sporting Goods had already been raided. The giant display case that had once held guns and ammo lay empty on its side at the far end of the register counter. The adjacent knives and blades rack had also been stripped bare. The floor in front of them was covered in broken plexiglass and discarded packaging.

  “Looks like somebody got what they wanted,” Jake said holding up a shredded chunk of plastic labeled machete.

  “With any luck, we will too,” I said running my fingers down Bella’s back as she trotted by.

  “Yeah, and quickly,” Jake said staring past me out the broken storefront. “We don’t exactly have the luxury of time here, Liv.”

  “Believe me, I know.” I reached into my pack for some aspirin and the last of my water. “Let’s get what we need and get out of here.”

  The whole front end of the shop was wall-to-wall sports equipment. Basketballs and footballs littered the aisles. A random assortment of irons and putters was clustered in the middle of the aisle like an abandoned game of pick-up sticks. Between the darkness and the mess, navigating between the shelves was a challenge. Aside from a few lightweight baseball bats and a large duffle bag, there was little of use to us in that half of the store.

  Riley and Falisha made their way over to the single hanging rack that held the shop’s tiny selection of clothing. They started sifting through it while Ty ducked into the hunting and gaming section and disappeared from sight. Zander smiled at me briefly as Jake and I passed then set back to work behind the register digging through the drawers and cabinets and tossing things over his shoulder.

  Eli leaned against the front counter and sighed dramatically. He clutched his pack tightly against his chest staring blankly at the front door as if it was showing him the meaning of life. Christa sat on a shoe bench a few feet away braiding and unbraiding her hair. As usual, their help was not helpful.

  “Please tell me there is a clean top in that mess for me,” I said blowing a wayward hair away from my face.

  “Of course,” Riley said throwing a pink racer-back tank at me. Her eyes were still swollen from crying, but her tears had finally stalled. “Sorry about the pink, but it’s the only one in your size.”

  “Thanks, Ry.” I slid the tank over my head and down over the one I was already wearing. It took some doing, but I managed to wrestle the old one out from underneath. I closed my eyes and tossed it across the room reveling in the feel of the clean fabric against my skin.

  “Thanks for that,” Ty said appearing out of nowhere with my sweaty tank top plastered to his face.

  “Crap, sorry, Ty,” I snorted as he swatted the shirt off his head.

  “It’s all good,” he said trying not to look disgusted.

  “Nice catch, cowboy,” Jake smirked at him.

  Ty shook his head and waved us toward the far end of the store. “I think I found us some wheels, y’all. Ain’t nothin’ fancy, that’s for sure. Come on back and see for yourselves.”

  In the back corner of the shop, hanging from thick metal wires was a baby-blue tandem bike. A metal sign was screwed to the side of it that said La’Teke’s Trikes and Bikes - In Stock and Special Order Cycles. The rack that sat below it was
completely empty save for a little purple tricycle and the largest mountain bike I had ever seen in my life. Four ten-speed bicycles, the kind with the curvy handlebars, balanced on wall-mounted hooks on the far side.

  “These are our options?” Eli asked incredulously. “There aren’t even enough bikes to go around.”

  “Actually, Doc, with a little bit of riggin’ we should be good. I’m thinking you, Liv, Riley, and Z take the tens,” Ty said pointing to the bikes hanging above us. “Jake and Falisha, y’all are like bread and butter anyways, so you can ride together on this-here two-seater thingamajig.”

  “Tandem bike,” they corrected in unison.

  “Like I said—bread and butter,” Ty smiled at them then patted the seat on the mountain bike. “I’ll take this big boy since it’s the heaviest, and so am I.”

  “I really don’t like this idea,” Eli said staring wide-eyed at the bicycles.

  “You could always walk,” I raised a brow at him. He narrowed his eyes at me then shook his head and walked away.

  “What about me?” Christa said brushing Eli’s shoulder as he stomped past.

  “That is the best part,” Ty said excitedly. “You are gonna love this, darlin’.”

  Christa’s eyes lit up for a moment, and she stepped closer. Ty pulled a large box down from a nearby shelf. His smile broadened as he knelt and placed the package on the floor at Christa’s feet. She clicked on her flashlight. The second she saw the words printed on the cardboard, her face fell.

  “Child’s towing buggy?” She scowled down at the box.

  “It’s cool right? This way you can ride all the way to Rockford in style, like a princess in a chariot.” Ty turned to Jake. “As long as that’s cool with you, of course.”

  “Makes sense to me,” Jake shrugged. “It is kind of a long way.”

  “Sweet,” Ty’s smiled proudly.

  “Really?” Christa’s voice rose an octave, and she crossed her arms. “Is this really happening right now?”

  “What’s wrong?” Ty asked his brows knit in confusion.

  “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” She threw her hands up. “You are talking about carting me around in that carriage like a freaking toddler or something, and you are worried about whether or not my stupid brother is okay with it? What about what I think, huh? Does that even freaking matter?”

  “Of course it matters,” Ty said stepping toward her. “I didn’t mean—I was only tryin’ to help, was all. It’s still real hot out there, and we have a long ways to go. It’s gonna be a rough go, and you’re just a little thing, so I thought—”

  “You thought wrong,” Christa stamped her foot and balled her fists at her side.

  “Christa, be reasonable,” Jake said dismissively.

  “Shut up, Jake,” she spat and then turned to Ty. “I can just ride on the pegs like I did last time. It’ll be fine.”

  “Last time the road was smooth, and it was only a couple miles,” Ty crouched down and grabbed Christa’s hands in his. “We are talking about a thirty-five-mile ride here, Sweets. The roads are torn to shreds. Ain’t no way you can stay up on pegs through all that mess. I’m not even sure I could do that. Trust me. This is the safest way to go.”

  “But—” Christa’s chin shook.

  “Please, Christa,” Ty said sweetly. “You are like a little sister to me. I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt.”

  “I…a sister?” Christa’s eyes filled with tears. She tore her hands from his, straightened her spine, then spun on her heel and stormed off. When she reached the end of the aisle, she turned back and shouted. “Go to Hell, Ty Bailey!”

  “Christa—” Ty moved to go after her, but Jake stepped in front of him, his slender hand dwarfed against Ty’s broad chest.

  “Let her go,” Jake said retracting his hand. “Trust me, the last thing you want to do is add fuel to that fire right now.”

  “What just happened?” Ty shook his head and stared after her.

  Christa crossed her arms over her chest and plopped down on the vinyl shoe bench next to Eli. He slid away from her and picked his pack up from the floor scowling back down at us. Both of them were pouting though at least Eli had not resorted to tears.

  “How do I fix this?” Ty asked.

  “You can’t,” Riley said patting him on the back. “It’s called a crush for a reason, Ty.”

  “Crush?” Ty stared after her. “You mean—Christa?”

  “Afraid so,” I said with a smirk.

  “For real?” His eyes widened.

  “The biggest,” Falisha flanked him on the other side. “First one is always the hardest, too.”

  Despite the fact that we were all staring at her, Christa was making a valiant effort to pretend none of us existed.

  “Crap,” Ty’s head dropped to his chest. “How did I miss that?”

  “Because you are a guy,” Jake clapped him on the shoulder, “and guys are oblivious.”

  “Apparently.” Ty ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, shoot. This should make for a fun ride, huh?”

  “I can pull her,” Zander offered. “It’ll give her some time to cool off.”

  “Alright, then,” Ty nodded with a sigh and pointed to the bikes that hung above. “I reckon we should get these down and see what we are workin’ with, then.”

  The large yellow mountain bike, a Mongoose Brutus according to its pin striping, stood inches above my hip. It had tires as thick as pythons. According to the special order paperwork that hung from the handlebars, the dual-core tires were puncture-resistant and designed for resilience on rough terrain.

  It was clear the mountain bike was brand new. There was no telling how long the others had been taking up space in that shop. The ten-speeds reeked of mold and tarnish. A massive cloud of dust followed them down from the ceiling where they hung. Still, the owner’s lack of upkeep and stock maintenance had actually worked out in our favor. They were not as tough as the Mongoose by any means, but once we aired up the deflated (but intact) tires and oiled the chains, the cycles were in decent working condition.

  Riley and Falisha wandered off in search of water and snacks. Jake and I set to work constructing the buggy. Ty cut the two-seater down from its wires and passed it to Zander who removed the old sign plate from the frame. After digging in the stock room and pilfering parts, he and Ty were able to creatively retrofit the missing pieces. The baby blue wonder now sported two all-terrain mountain bike tires, one regular tire, and the purple seat from the little tricycle. The patchwork machine was now a completely functional, albeit awkward, method of transportation.

  Despite Christa’s disgust toward the buggy, I was almost jealous of her. Once we got it all put together, the cart was quite nice. The wheels were thick and sturdy, with a decent set of shocks to ensure a smooth ride. The lower portion was constructed of a heavy-duty canvas, and the floor was reinforced with a solid piece of plastic. The domed mesh enclosure could be zipped closed or tethered open. It even had cup holders and padded seats.

  “Nice job, y’all,” Ty said as the three of us carried the pull cart outside. His eyes roamed, marveling at our creation until they met Jake’s. His answering smile was the first I had seen from him in nearly a day. Ty noticed it, too and sweetened the pot. “I mean it. I really do like it.”

  “Maybe you should ride in it, then,” Christa shot Ty a dirty look and nearly knocked us over as she stormed past.

  “She’ll get over it,” Jake said offering Ty a sympathetic smile as we lowered the buggy to the sidewalk.

  “Girls are stubborn,” Zander laughed as he hefted the massive yellow mountain bike up through the broken storefront window. His eyes settled on me as he lowered the Mongoose to the pavement and rested his blackened arm across the seat. “Some, obviously more than others.”

  “Speaking of obvious,” I dodged, rolling my eyes at him as I walked over and patted his arm. “We should probably wrap this up, don’t you think? Just in case we pass anyone on the road, I mean
.”

  “What’s the likelihood of that?” Eli groaned, dragging his rusty green bike through the front door. “No one else in this town has a pulse.”

  “Better safe than sorry,” I said shooting him a look as I dug an elastic wrap from the bottom of my pack.

  “Right,” he snorted, lowering the kickstand, “because so much about this whole idea of yours is safe.”

  Rather than indulge his tantrum, I set to work binding Zander’s arm. The wrap was not meant to be functional, only aesthetic. If we happened to cross paths with anyone, soldier or survivor, we couldn’t risk them seeing any signs of infection among our ranks. Besides, Metz’s cronies were probably still looking for us, and Zander’s blackened flesh was a flare gun waiting to go off.

  “There you go,” I said, tucking the end of the bandage in at his palm. Only the tips of his darkened fingers remained. “That should do.”

  “Thank you.” Zander smiled and kissed me lightly on the cheek before reaching his bandaged hand out help Christa into the buggy. “And your chariot awaits, Princess.”

  “Whatever. God.” Christa rolled her eyes pushing his hand away.

  She stepped into the cart, which shifted beneath her causing her to lose her balance and fall hard into the seat with a thud. She looked around self-consciously to see if anyone had seen, then quickly crossed her arms over her chest. “Can we just go, already?”

  “You don’t know how lucky you are,” I smiled at her.

  “Whatever, freak-show,” She glared at me.

  “Bella, in,” I snapped my fingers toward the buggy.

  Bella chuffed at me, then trotted over and leaped gracefully up and into the cart. Once there, she spun in place three times before lowering her haunches into the seat next to Christa. The second the girl tried to protest, Bella licked at her face.

  “Seriously?” Christa shrieked wiping her face frantically. “Gross. My mouth was open.”

  She crossed her arms again, and slammed her back against the seat, seething as she stared out of the mesh side window in the opposite direction. The rest of us did our best not to laugh loud enough for her to hear as we strapped into our packs and mounted our respective rides.