Ballistic: Icarus Series, Book Two (3 page)

To make matters worse, the constant detouring had taken us so far off track that now the sun was coming up, and the heat was almost unbearable. We were going to have to find shelter until after midday. It would be that much longer before I could get to my brother. As hard a pill as that was to swallow, the fact was, it wasn’t just about him anymore. My friends were counting on me to keep them safe. After all they had sacrificed for me, I owed it to them to do just that.

“We need to get below ground,” I said, opening the phone book we had pilfered from the vet clinic back in Morrison. “What town is this, Zan?”

“Oregon,” Zander said, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Got it,” I said, scanning across the tiny print before settling on the tattered canary velum of the Yellow Pages.

After about a hundred or so flips through the obnoxious auto parts ads, barbershop listings, and manicure coupons, I finally found a good place to hole up; a small strip mall toward the center of town. “Okay, turn right up there just past the McDonalds. There is a place downtown called Conover Square that should work, I think. This ad says there’s an old museum is in the basement.”

“Right,” Zander nodded, cringing as he drove over a cluster of pods in the middle of the road.

“Gross,” Falisha muttered from behind us.

We saw quite a few of the blackened cocoon-type lumps littering the ground over the last few miles but, aside from the sickening smell that filled the cab of the truck as we crunched over them, they did little to slow our progress. By the time we turned from I-88 onto South 3rd Street, most of the major roadblocks were in our rearview. Abandoned vehicles, blackened tree branches, and other debris lay clustered in piles along the sides of the road as if a plow had cleared the way ahead of us. Zander and I shared a sideways glance. It was a silent agreement to stay on high alert.

“Whoa,” Jake said, staring out his window as we slowly passed what was left of the local burger joint. The remnants of the golden arches were barely recognizable amidst the pile of charred rubble. “It looks like someone bombed the place.”

A few minutes later, we pulled up in front of the Conover Square Shopping Center. Had it not been for the elaborate signage on the building’s aging stucco facade, we would have easily passed it by. Despite the fact that it stretched nearly half a block wide, the oat-colored building did little else to stand out from its equally bland surroundings. Between the smoke-filled sky and the muddied yellow sunrise, the whole area was awash in a sea of beige and
blah
.

Aside from the construction trailer and excavator stationed in the lot next door there was only one other vehicle on the entire block. A small pickup truck that appeared to be held together by years of rust and copious amounts of duct tape had reign over the lot. Conover Square was completely still— abandoned save for us, it would seem.

“
Umm,
” Falisha grabbed onto my headrest and leaned forward. “You guys? There is no way
this
place is a freaking mall. You don’t actually want to go in there, do you?”

“It is, actually, and I do,” I said, gently lowering Bella from my lap to the floor so I could get a better view out my window.

A row of windows, most likely apartments, dotted the top two floors of the building. Each appeared to be shattered within its frame, and empty of any movement. There were three glass doorways on this side of the mall. Above each was a piano painted within a brick archway. There was nothing beyond their soot-covered panes but darkness and the unknown. Still, going inside was likely the lesser of many evils at this point.

“Call me crazy,” Jake said poking his head up between the front seats, “but I think parking the giant, stolen military vehicle right out front is probably not a great idea.”

“Probably not,” Zander snorted. “Though, technically, we didn’t steal it because Nicholas gave us the keys.”

“I have a feeling that Metz and his military cronies are not interested in the semantics, Z,” Jake said.

“Over there.” I pointed to a huge stack of pallets and lumber behind the construction trailer. “We can park it between that excavator and the rubbish pile. Then we’ll bury it under tarps, and stuff.”

Bella climbed right back up from the floor and plopped heavily into my lap, inching her nose out through the crack in the window. She turned her head and licked my cheek, then scratched at the door with a whimper. Her tongue was lolling from the side of her mouth as her gaze bounced back and forth from me to the window. She yipped softly and wiggled in my lap.

“I know, Bells,” I said scratching her chest as I reached for the door handle.

The second it swung open, Bella leaped from the truck and took off in a wide circle around the building as fast as her three legs would carry her. The hours we had spent trapped in the stuffy confines of the truck’s cab had left her antsy and anxious. I could relate. I hopped out of the truck with almost as much enthusiasm and banged on the side with my fist. “Okay, everybody out!”

In a muffled chorus of groans and grunts, the rest of our group began to spill from the back, climbing down onto the ancient bricked pavers below. One by one, my friends emerged from between the canvas flaps. They looked disheveled and weary but relieved to finally be motionless.

“Worst. Ride. Ever,” Christa complained, rolling her neck dramatically. “Seriously, you guys. Can you say whiplash?”

“Hey, if you enjoyed that, you would have loved riding in the big green monster.” Riley smiled and squeezed Christa’s shoulder before ambling over toward me. “So, what’s the plan, Liv?”

“Let’s do a little magic, shall we?” I wiped the sweat from my brow and bumped her hip with mine. “Time to make this truck disappear.”

***

“Seriously, you guys? This place is, like, super gross.” Christa wrinkled up her nose and blew a stray blond curl from her face. “Do we really have to—?”

“
Yes
,” Jake and I said together.

We had spent the last twenty minutes burying the truck beneath half-burnt pallets, sheets of plywood, and musty old drop cloths. The heat had been torturous and the splinters many, so none of us were in the mood to hear the girl’s complaints. Least of all, Jake.

“For once in your life, Christa, would you just stow it?” Jake growled at her. “No one wants to come to your pity party, alright?”

“This sucks,” she grunted, scowling at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. “And you know what else, Jake?
You
suck. How about that?”

“Okay, I am seriously sick of—.” Jake stepped forward his jaw clenched tight. Ty flinched in their direction.

“We should probably see about finding some more food and water.” Riley cut him off and stepped in between them.

“Good thinking, Ry,” I said, nodding toward the coffee shop just inside the main doors. “Grab what you can carry, and meet us back here in five minutes.”

I stared at the small “you are here” kiosk in the main lobby of the small shopping center absently picking at the bandages on my arm. Eli had done a decent job of cleaning and dressing the wounds on my arm and leg. My injuries didn’t even hurt anymore really, but the tingling that I felt beneath the gauze was more than a little annoying.

“I think I will go ahead and take a peek around if y’all don’t mind,” Ty said as he dropped his pack onto the floor by my feet. “I’m gonna see if I can’t find the door to the basement.”

“I’ll come, too,” Christa volunteered, shuffling to his side.

“The
hell
you will,” Jake said, grabbing her arm.

“Bite me, Jake. You can’t tell me what to—.” Christa pulled away from him.

“Uh-uh, your brother’s got it right,
sweets
.” Ty tapped Christa’s chin gently with his thumb and gave Jake the slightest of nods. “And don’t go givin’ me those puppy dog eyes, neither. I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt trailin’ along after me.”

“Ugh,
fine
,” she pouted climbing onto the chipped laminate counter top at the small diner just inside the main entrance; Conovor’s Coffees and Chocolate, according to the hand-painted sign. Christa crossed her arms over her chest and scrunched up her nose. “This place totally reeks, by the way. I can’t believe you dragged me here.”

“We need to find the museum,” I said turning my back on her petulant display.

“Over here, y’all,” Ty said from the middle of the lobby. “They have one of them map things.”

Without an audience, Christa immediately grew tired of her own performance. She turned her energies to twisting her long hair into an elaborate braid while she banged her heels against the plexiglass case below. The transparent shelves beneath her were full of chocolate treats that had long-since melted into a sickening sludge. Each time she kicked the front pane, more of the sugary mud splattered across the slick surface inside, reminding me of the many abandoned cars we had seen along the way and the blackness that painted their interiors.

All of those people…gone.

Ty pressed in close to the map on the kiosk tracing a path with his fingertip and muttering softly to himself. Jake stood with his arms crossed over his chest, scowling at Ty’s back as if the cowboy had just run over a puppy and laughed about it. I narrowed my eyes at Jake, not understanding his animosity. He was too busy trying to hate the guy to notice.

“Alright,” Ty said, turning back to us. “Looks like the museum is down there, just past the ceramics place. I’m gonna head that direction and see what’s what.”

“Hold up, man.” Zander pulled a small handgun from his belt and held it out to Ty. “You know how to use one of these?”

“You’re jokin’ right?” Ty smirked shaking his head as he carefully palmed the grip. He pointed the gun at the floor and popped the clip, catching it effortlessly in his other hand. His cowboy hat tilted to the side as he inspected the mag, then slid it back in and pulled the slide back. The whole process took less than three seconds. “Dude, I’m from Tennessee. I was born with a twelve-gauge in my hand. This here pea-shooter ain’t gonna be no trouble.”

“Fair enough,” Zander smirked as Ty turned on his heel and trotted off down the darkened lobby.

“Ain’t he awesome?” Christa said, grinning widely as she tossed her braid over her shoulder and dropped to the floor.

“Wow,” Falisha said, swiping her finger through the layer of black dust on the cafe’s counter top. “This place is—.”

“Better than being fried to death outside?” Eli cut her off.

“I was gonna say
quaint
,” Falisha said, glaring at him.

“I’m sure.” Eli rolled his eyes as he slid around behind the serving counter and headed toward the kitchen doors. “I swear to you, I don’t remember complaining this much when I was your age. Which, for your information, was not
that
long ago. You kids are just spoil—
Oh, Jesus!
”

Eli’s foot slipped on the floor, and his arms flew up over his head. He scrambled for purchase in the small register cubicle. His erratic flailing sent him stumbling back toward the swinging doors where he finally managed to catch himself on the edge of the small basin sink that was mounted to the wall. It took him a moment to right himself and center his weight, but when he finally turned back around, his face had drained of all color.

“Walk much?” Christa snorted.

“Eli, what happened?” Zander unsheathed the knife holstered to his thigh and took off toward the counter.

“I…it’s—,” Eli stammered, his gaze locked on the floor behind the register stand.

“What’s wrong?” Zander said his knife clutched in front of him. “What is it, Eli?”

“More like, what
was
it?” Eli’s face screwed up as he stared down at the floor near his feet. He pulled his t-shirt up over his mouth and nose and backed himself out from behind the cafe bar. “The janitor, I’m guessing, judging by the coveralls.”

“That’s so gross,” Christa said leaning over the counter to get a closer look. “Guess he was one of the lucky ones.”

“Jesus, Christa.” Jake’s brows furrowed. “That guy died…pretty
horribly
by the looks of it, and you are acting like he won a door prize or something. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What?” Christa narrowed her eyes at him and pointed down at the charred body on the floor. “I’m just saying; if I have to pick between
that and becoming one of those
crusty zombie
things
? I’m sorry, but I am going with instant fiery death, every freaking time.”

“Sorry, big brother, but I’m with pretty, pretty Princess on that one,” Falisha said scrunching up her nose at the mass of blackened flesh that had melded into the vinyl tiles. “If I ever leech out on y’all, I hereby give you permission to put a bullet in my ass.”

“Yeah,” Christa jutted her chin at her brother and smiled mischievously. “Just put a bullet in my—”

“
Christa
,” Jake barked, his eyes blazing. “Don’t even.”

“So….food and water?” Riley gently laid her hand on Jake’s shoulder. She shook her head at him as she slid around the end of the counter to where Eli had been standing moments before. Jake’s sister watched in fascination as Riley pulled one of the grubby aprons from the hooks near the kitchen door and draped it over the body. “Christa, would you mind helping me and Falisha in the kitchen?”

“Come on, Princess,” Falisha said with a sly grin. “Let’s go and see if we can find something good to eat in this dump, shall we?”

“Fine, whatever. Not like I got anything better to do.” Christa shrugged and followed the two girls into the kitchen, skirting around the body as if it were little more than a stain on the tile floor.

“Your sister is really something,” Zander said, clapping Jake on the back as they watched the doors swing shut behind her.

“Right.” Jake sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m thinking maybe I was adopted.”

“Liv…Zander!” Ty’s drawl sounded cracked and strained as it echoed down the foyer in our direction. “Over here, y’all.”

I took off running in his direction. Zander’s steady footfalls were close at my heels as I made my way past a jewelry store, an antique showroom, and finally the ceramic store. Ty was there, his back against the wall, hacking and coughing as if he had just lit his first cigarette. His eyes were glassy and distant. He looked like he had seen a ghost.