Burnout (The Invasion Chronicles Book 1) (14 page)

Reacted quicker. 

Screamed a warning to Jill. 

Something
.   

Jill reached for the black metal latch to pull it shut, and a pale, silver-veined hand latched onto her wrist.  For an endless moment, Ava just stood there, watching.  Her mind refused to process what she was seeing.   

It was a man, dressed only in a pair of running shorts and tennis shoes.  The horrible, inhuman eyes were gleaming, the silvered veins starting to give off a pale, alien light.  In those few precious seconds when she might have been able to help, Ava could just stare.  Her throat was tight and frozen, her mouth hanging open. 

The man was still wearing a shattered Netglass visor, the white earpieces standing out against his dirty hair. For an instant Ava was seized with an insane desire to laugh.  She wondered how long the Netglass had gone on displaying his exercise route and preferred newsfeeds, maybe playing some mindless pop music as he hunted for survivors to Burn.  Then, the moment broke.  The man stumbled out into the small stretch of grass between Emily’s house and the McCain place, his fingers still locked around Jill’s thin, birdlike wrist.  The moment broke. 

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 weapons 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.