Killshot (Icarus Series Book 1) Read online

  His eyes met mine, and he nodded meekly, stepping in front of the door. I left no time for argument and tore off up the stairs after Zander. I had no idea what the hell was happening, but whatever it was, I knew I could not let him face it alone. By some small miracle, I managed to catch up to Zander just as he reached the top of the staircase.

  “God damn it, Liv. You shouldn’t be here,” he barked, frustration etched in hard lines across his forehead. “Please, you have to go back, it’s not safe!”

  “I'm not going anywhere,” I said, jutting out my chin. “Now, stop wasting time and open the stupid door!”

  Zander swore under his breath and yanked me protectively behind him as he reached for the door handle. He grasped it firmly in his hand but quickly jerked it back. The pungent stench of burning flesh immediately filled the stairwell. His free hand squeezed his other wrist so tightly, his knuckles paled. Even in the washed yellow light of the exit sign, I could see angry red welts erupting all over burned skin of his palm.

  “Son of a bitch,” Zander screamed, shaking his hand furiously.

  He ripped his over-shirt off and wrapped it tightly around his singed hand before reaching out to grab the handle once more. He struggled with the door, but finally managed to force the door open about half way as a wave of punishing heat rushed into the stairwell.

  The super-heated gust knocked me off balance. My arms flew in front of my face, instinctively trying to shield myself. I shifted my weight trying not to fall, but the rubber sole of my boot grabbed the traction strip on the concrete. I lost my footing and stumbled back into the wall. My head hit the concrete wall with a crack and my vision went dark around the edges.

  I was eight years old, baking birthday treats for school with my mom. I was so excited I danced around the kitchen while I helped her mix the ingredients together. I kept myself busy, chewing the leftover cookie dough from mom’s wooden spoon, while I waited for the timer to beep, but I was getting impatient.

  I had been watching those cookies slowly rise to golden perfection through the glass on the front of our oven for what seemed like forever. Finally, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. Instead of waiting for my mom to get them out for me, as she had instructed, I decided I could handle it. I bent over and reached for the handle. I was much too close to the oven when I opened that door and the heat burst free, hitting me square in the face. I screamed bloody murder and fell onto my butt.

  I missed school for a whole week, not to mention the birthday party my class had thrown for me, while mom treated the first-degree burns to my forehead and nose. I still had a little scar along my hairline, though my hair hid it pretty well.

  My vision began to clear, and I shook the fog from my mind, thankful Zander hadn’t seen my little maneuver. I pressed forward at his side but had barely taken a step before his arm shot back, stopping me in my tracks.

  Chapter 8

  Prozac and Pocketknives

  Sara and Blake were dead.

  Blake's body was wrapped protectively around Sara's and smoke rose from their charred remains. The tattered remnants of his Illinois State Football champions cap crumbled into the wind near where they lay. Sara's blond hair, matted with blood and soot, was splayed out around her head. Her fingers were burned to the bone and bent at awkward angles, sunken into the liquefied blacktop beneath them. In death, as in life, their bodies were welded so tightly to each other, I could hardly discern where one began and the other ended.

  Sara was barely visible beneath Blake’s body, which appeared to have sustained the brunt of the damage. His flesh was stripped away, leaving little more than bone and sinew across his head and back. His skull, now hatless and without hair, was completely free of recognizable features. The ashen remains of their skin flaked off and swirled in a cloud around them, before being carried off by the same sweltering winds that had baked it from their bones.

  With some effort, and no help from me, Zander was finally able to haul the door closed. Those few precious seconds were more than enough time for that image to find a permanent home in my nightmares. I stared blankly at the closed door in front of me, unable to process what I had just seen.

  Sara and Blake were dead. No, not just dead— burned alive. How was that even possible? They had only been outside, maybe, ten minutes longer than the rest of us. It had been unbearably warm, but definitely not hot enough to burn flesh from bone.

  “Are you hurt?” Zander cradled my face in his hands, searching me for injuries. When I didn’t answer, his voice grew more urgent. “Liv, talk to me. Are you okay?”

  “What the hell was that?” I tugged his hands away from my face. “This can’t be happening. It’s—it’s not possible.”

  “Liv,” he said, grabbing my shoulders.

  “Don’t Liv me,” I said, trying to pull away again. “Did you not see that? They were burned alive, for Christ sakes. How is that even possible?”

  “I don't know,” he said, not releasing his grip, “but that doesn’t matter right now, Liv. We can't stay here.”

  “We can’t just leave them out there,” I said, tears running down my face. “What about their parents, Zander. They had families. We have to go get them.”

  “It’s too dangerous, Liv,” Zander pleaded, gently trying to pull me towards the stairs. “Please, Liv. We have to go back. We need to go and get the others somewhere safe.”

  “But—” I began.

  “Liv, Please,” Zander shouted, gripping my face in his hands. His face was mere inches from mine. I could feel his breath against my lips, begging me to hear him. “I just found you, damn it. I am not ready to let you go yet.”

  Had I known what to say to that, I still would not have trusted myself to speak. I simply nodded. Zander cradled his injured hand against his chest and grabbed mine with his other. We sprinted down the stairs two at a time, until we reached the bottom. We burst past Micah and through the door. Then, we stumbled out into the gym, breathing hard and covered in black soot. Eight sets of eyes stared anxiously in our direction, and the questions began to fly.

  “Were they up there?” Riley asked, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  “Why did you guys take off like that?” Jake huffed, hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

  “Wait,” Falisha said. “Where are Sara and Blake?”

  “Dude, what the hell is going on?” Zack blurted, his eyes darting in all directions.

  “Liv,” Riley asked. I shook my head and she burst into tears, burying her head against Micah.

  “What the hell is going in, Z?” Micah asked, his arms wrapped around Riley’s heaving shoulders. He looked just as confused as I felt.

  “I have no idea what is happening out there, but I can tell you it is not safe to go outside,” Zander said. “You saw what happened to the cars— to my bike.”

  “It’s the flare,” Jake said, bravely pushing forward. “It has to be. I mean, the heat, the flash we saw, the electrical disturbances, even the issue with the door. It’s the only thing that make sense—I’m telling you guys, it was Icarus. Icarus did this.”

  “No way,” Mike snapped.

  “But where—” Falisha began but was drowned out by everyone talking at once.

  “You don’t know what you are talking about,” Andy agreed, shoving Jake aside.

  I put my fingers to my teeth and whistled again. Everyone went silent.

  “We do not have time for this. Right now, all we know for sure, is that we have to get somewhere safe. Somewhere underground, maybe,” I said, all but channeling my dad. “If we can get below grade, as close as possible to the center of the building, we should be able to outlast the heat until it’s safe to go back outside.”

  “Is there a basement in this place?” Zander addressed the group. “Maybe a storage room or storm shelter of some kind?”

  “There’s no storm shelter, but the coach’s supply closet and weight room are in the basement,” Zack offered, the color draining from his fac
e. “We can get there through the cafeteria or through the either of the locker rooms.”

  “We can’t stay here,” Mike argued.

  “We have to get home,” Andy agreed, raking his hand through his blond hair as he stared down at his cell. “Our mom is going to lose it if we don’t get back by midnight!”

  “We are so screwed,” Mike wailed, burying his face in his hands.

  “Liv, where are Sara and Blake?” Falisha asked again.

  “Which route would be faster?” Zander asked.

  “Locker rooms,” I said, pointing to the old metal door at the end of the bleachers. “Okay, everyone head to the girl’s locker room.”

  “We need to—,” Zander began, but Falisha cut him off.

  “Where the hell are Sara and Blake?” Falisha stomped hard against the gym floor. Her hands fisted at her sides just below the bottom of her pleated skirt. Tears streamed down her face.

  “I know that you are worried, but—,” Zander tried again.

  “I am not moving until someone tells me what is going on!” She demanded, tears streaming down her face. The rest of the kids started muttering their own protests, as Falisha’s grew louder and more intense. “Where are they? Where are Sara and Blake? Why won’t someone just—”

  “They’re dead,” I blurted, throwing my hands in the air.

  “No.” Falisha eyes shot wide in disbelief, as Zack rushed to her side. I saw the pain in her face and softened my tone before I spoke again.

  “I’m sorry, Falisha, but Sara and Blake didn’t make it,” I said, meeting her eyes. “They were burned to death by whatever the hell is out there. We need move, or we will be next.”

  “You’re lying,” Falisha insisted. “They can’t be dead, I just talked to them.”

  “It’s true,” Zander said, softly.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as Falisha started sobbing and sank woefully into Zack’s arms. I watched as the fight left her body.

  “This is so messed up,” Mike said.

  “Seriously,” Andy agreed. He was pacing back and forth in front of his brother. “This was supposed to be a party and now people are dying? That’s just wrong, man.”

  “For once, I agree with you,” Jake said, shooting him a sideways glance.

  “Look, I know we are all freaking out,” I said. “But we need to get somewhere safe, and as far away from this insane heat as possible. Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want to end up like that.”

  I searched for Riley, avoiding the shocked stares on everyone’s faces. I nodded slightly in the direction of the locker room. She nodded sharply, wiped the tears from her eyes and slowly trudged across the gym toward the ladies. One by one, the rest of the group followed in a silent stupor behind her. Zack wrapped his arms around Falisha, all but carrying her along, as she sobbed into his chest.

  Riley paused just inside the locker room and stepped into the tiny office that belonged to Coach Germann. She emerged a few seconds later, toting a giant orange sports drink dispenser, and shoved it into Zander’s hands.

  “Water,” she said, shoving Zander and Micah toward the showers.

  “Good thinking, Ry,” I said, watching as Micah and Zander sprinted away.

  “What are we going to do?” Riley’s voice shook.

  “I don’t know, Ry,” I said, “but we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

  My mind was racing through every possible solution to our current dilemma, but this was foreign territory. I had no idea what was happening, or what we would face in the hours to come, but we could not just stand in the middle of a smelly locker room all day and hope things worked out. If anyone else had to suffer the way Blake and Sara had, I would never forgive myself.

  There would be a time for weakness and indecision, but this was not it. I closed my eyes and dug through the dusty collection of randomness my dad had taught me over the years. Surely something would be useful. I replayed those moments like a movie; dad and I building a fire, the summer I finally got good at setting snares, me bandaging dad’s sprained ankle. I heard his voice, as if he were at my side.

  Hope for the best, Liv, but always prepare for the worst. The key to preparation is knowing what you are up against.

  What happened to Blake and Sara would have taken extremely high temperatures. Then there was the exploding tires and the melted parking lot. Our cell phones were out of whack, the power lines were sparking. The locks had engaged on their own, as well, which could mean there were satellite issues as well. The solar flare— Icarus was the cause of all this.

  Make the call and you chance a loss, but indecision is accepting defeat.

  “Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Riley, grab the master key from Germann's office and unlock all of these lockers. We need to see if there is anything useful in there.”

  Riley nodded and ran back to the office area, returning moments later with keys in hand. There was a renewed sense of duty etched on her face. The rest of the group stood staring, awaiting instruction. Tara glared at me but said nothing.

  “Mike, Andy, you guys go with Riley,” I said. “Start pulling everything out of these lockers. Towels, medicine, water bottles and snacks; whatever you can find, and make piles on the bench there. ”

  “Zack, take Falisha and Tara with you. Go through the far exit to the foyer and get as much as you can from the vending machines outside the locker room,” I said, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Be quick, and be careful. We don’t know how long we have before the heat makes it into the building.”

  I grabbed a mesh bag from a hook on the wall, loosened the drawstring, and dumped out the basketballs that were inside it. They ricocheted against my feet and the floor and bounced all over the place.

  “Fill this up,” I said, thrusting the empty bag into his hands.

  He lifted his jaw in acknowledgment and sprinted off, but Falisha stood silent and in a daze. Tara grabbed her hand and jerked her towards the door after Zack. She spoke to her as if she were a spoiled child refusing to leave the playground.

  “Come on, Falisha,” Tara spat, shooting daggers at me. “We have our orders.”

  Her voice trailed off as they made their way into the hall, but I was sure I heard Tara muttering something about the rapture and being ushered into the kingdom of the righteous. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of it all. The world was crashing down around us, people were dying, and she still had the audacity to force-feed people her beliefs.

  “Jake, can you run down to the weight room and unlock it?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he said, looking anything but.

  “If I remember correctly, there should be a key hanging on a little red hook to the left of the door.” I used to visit the weight room a lot during the track season and I couldn’t imagine they had changed it much since then. The coaches had always stashed a key for those of us that wanted the extra work out time. “Turn the lights on and pull out some chairs and stuff, okay?”

  He nodded silently and took off, slinging his camera bag over his shoulder as he ducked through the door.

  Zander emerged from the shower stall a few minutes later, dragging the jug across the concrete floor. The lid was tucked under his bad arm and Micah was no longer with him. There was the steam rising from the rim.

  “Zander, that water isn’t—” I began.

  “I know.” Zander wiped sweat from his head with his shirtsleeve. “Believe me, that came from the cold water tap. I let it run for a couple minutes, thinking it would cool down, but all I got was this steaming jug of soup.”

  “Great,” I said.

  I laced my fingers behind my head, ignoring the sweat as it rolled, unchecked, down the side of my face. It was getting warmer by the minute and I wasn’t sure how much longer we’d be able to stand it above ground.

  “It’s okay, Liv,” Zander said. “We’ll just let it sit for a while and eventually it will cool down to room temperature.”

  “Right, yeah,” I sighed. The w
ater was apparently boiling in the pipes now and it was beyond messed up that “room temperature” felt like a drastic improvement.

  “Where’s Micah?” I asked him.

  “He saw Riley and the twins working on the lockers and went to help,” Zander said. “Good plan, by the way, giving everyone something to focus on. Anything I can do to help, boss?”

  He made a move to grab my hand but I pulled away and took a step back. In that moment, I decided it was better if he didn’t get too attached. I had a promise to keep, and nothing was going to stand in my way. My brother needed me now, more than ever, and I had been selfish and stupid to let things go this far.

  “Look, I am not your boss or your leader, and I am sure as hell not your girlfriend.” I took another step back. “I just want to get out of here in one piece and get my brother. In order to do that, we need to have a plan, and to have a plan, we need information— none of which we have.”

  “Fair enough,” Zander said, then turned on his heel and took off through the locker room door.

  “Where the hell are you going,” I yelled after him, but he was already gone. “Zander!”

  Damn it.

  It wasn't Zander’s fault I was angry, and I wasn’t even mad at him, exactly. More like the universe, and myself. I had let myself get distracted by this boy, something I swore I would not do. Pushing Zander away was the most humane thing I could do, for both of us.

  Truth was, there was only one boy on this planet that truly needed me and he didn’t have a crooked smile or amazing copper eyes. He was eight years old and in perpetual need of a haircut. He had terrible asthma and an unrivaled obsession with all things super-hero. He had my mother’s eyes, my father’s heart, and he was out there somewhere, waiting for me to keep my promise.

  I grabbed a box of printer paper from the floor by Germann's office and emptied it. I stacked the reams on a nearby bench and headed to where Riley and her crew were diligently ransacking lockers.

  “Wow,” I said, shocked at the piles of stuff they had already accumulated.