Burnout (The Invasion Chronicles Book 1) (7 page)

Until the Burnouts appeared, that is.  No one doubted the Burnouts were the result of an Invasion relic.  That question was settled.  Unfortunately, that was the only question that had been settled before the Burnouts basically collapsed society in every nation on Earth.  No one knew what kind of weapon or artifact had been activated—if it
was
a weapon, or the Burnouts were just some side effect of a previously unknown aspect of Invasion technology.  No one had been able to figure out where the first Burnouts had come from, nor how they spread so quickly.

Grandpa had tried to hide it from them, but Lydia and Ava knew there was more than one military institution operating under the theory that this was some final stage of the Invasion that had somehow been prevented all those decades ago.  Or that the Burnouts signaled the return of whatever alien race had sent the first ships…that the Invaders had returned with technology that had had just as much time to advance as Earth technology.  Truthfully, Lydia didn’t know which thought was worse. 

Lydia shook her head, as if she could physically dislodge the dark thoughts.  “Did, did you guys tell my grandpa or anyone about what you’ve seen out there?  It’s been months since we had any contact with anyone outside the barricade."

Zack nodded.  "Caleb was up talking to your grandfather most of the night." 

Lydia took a deep breath.  Grandpa would figure out what to do, she told herself.  They had been safe for this long; they could hold out.  Zack tilted his head towards her.  

"Sorry," he said. 

Caleb laughed, low and without much humor.  "Too bad no one actually had an apocalypse plan, huh?"

"Excuse you?" Zack sputtered.  "I had an excellent apocalypse plan.  I mean, I was thinking zombies, not weird cyborg attack…things…but I had an apocalypse plan.”

"Man, locking yourself in the nearest Wal-Mart isn’t an apocalypse plan."  Caleb rolled his eyes.  "That's just Hollywood."

"Says the dude who wanted to grab a crossbow in that sport shop last month."

"Wh—hey, those things don’t make any noise!  It was a good idea!"

"Only if you know how to shoot it," Zack countered.  He finished with the gun barrel and held it up for inspection.  Caleb tilted it to one side, holding it up to the light streaming in from the windows.

"Good to go," he said.  Zack set the barrel down on the towel again, and capped the bottle of cleaner.  Caleb gathered up the brushes and swabs, wiping the brush down on one corner of the towel as Zack picked up the pieces, reassembling the weapon with a speed that had both Lydia and Ava staring.  He was almost as quick at it as Grandpa.  Caleb grinned at their shock, open and easy.

"Yeah, there's a reason he does all the maintenance."

Ava let out a low, impressed whistle.  Lydia bit her lip, curiosity welling up inside her.  "Can I ask you something...I mean, do you mind?" she asked.

"Ask away," Zack said, tilting his head downward so that his glasses slipped down his nose. "I'm not shy."  He winked, and shoved the glasses back up.  Lydia let out a soft huff of laughter.

"Can you see
anything
?" she asked. 

Zack gnawed on the inside of his cheek.  "Mmm, light and shadow, mostly," he replied.  "I mean, like, I can tell there's a window behind you two...things like that. It's hard to describe." 

“What, I mean if you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”  Ava added. 

Disabilities like Zack’s weren’t unheard of, but they were unusual these days.  The biomedical fields were finally catching up with the technological fields, and Lydia knew there were at least three cybernetic implants on market that could restore almost a full field of vision in blind patients. 

“Don’t mind,” Zack assured her friend, leaning back in his seat.  “I was born like this…came
way
too early and this,” he gestured towards his glasses, “was a side effect that stuck around.  My eyes are too messed up for implants to work, and they’re not messed up enough for our insurance to cover a transplant.  I’m too well-adjusted,” he said with a laugh, and shrugged philosophically.  “Ain’t like
that’s
an issue now, anyway.  I get by.”  His expression turned playful, and he waggled his dark eyebrows.  Lydia found herself answering his crooked grin almost involuntarily.  "Can I ask
you
something?"

"Sure."

Zack pulled an exaggeratedly serious face.  "Did you two have an apocalypse plan?"

Caleb heaved the long-suffering sigh of a lifetime of such exchanges, and Zack socked him on the shoulder.  “Shut up, it’s a valid question.  I don’t trust people who didn’t have an apocalypse plan.” 

“Malik had an apocalypse plan,” Caleb muttered with a sly grin.  Zack immediately grimaced. 

“Doesn’t count, he thought New Kirk was better than Original Series Kirk, how good could his plans’ve been?  Also, I thought we agreed you weren’t going to mention Malik anymore?”

Caleb smirked and winked across the table at Lydia and Ava.  “
Ex-boyfriend,
” he stage-whispered. 

“
Very
ex-boyfriend,” Zack said, a sour expression twisting his face.  Lydia blinked in surprise.  Oh…well okay, then. 

The conversation moved into more typical territory.  They were deep into a discussion of the last movie they’d seen (Ava and Zack were heartbroken that the new
Black Widow
sequel would never get to theaters), when they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps hurrying down the stairs.  All four of them tensed, falling silent as Emily appeared in the doorway. 

“We’ve got a problem,” she said tersely.

Lydia raced up the stairs, Ava close behind.  Caleb and Zack followed, Zack's fingers hooked into his brother's belt loops.  The stairs let out onto a small landing and a short hallway leading to the two upstairs bedrooms.  At the end of the hall was a large, plate-glass window with a dark bed sheet tacked over it to block any light or movement at night.  Jill and Andrew were on either side of the window, peeking out around the edges of the sheet, while Iris Perry hovered in the doorway to one of the spare bedrooms. 

"What's going on?" Lydia asked.  "Did something happen over at Mr. Grant's?" 

"Come here," Andrew replied.  Lydia glanced at Ava, and the two scurried closer.  Zack and Caleb hung back, slouching against the wall by the Royce's bedroom door.  

Lydia edged around Andrew, taking his place by the window and peeling back the sheet.  Ava crowded in close beside her as Lydia looked first across the court to Eric Grant's house.  It was the same model as the Royce's, with a large window in more or less the same place.  She held her breath as she looked for any hint of movement in the window.  There was nothing. 

But when she looked into the street, she didn't need an explanation. 

"Oh,
hell
," she breathed. 

The street outside was full of Burnouts.  Full.  Grandpa said there were about a dozen Burnouts wandering around several houses up from them, but Lydia's eyes skipped around, counting thirty, forty, nearly fifty of the things. 

They weren't—they weren’t doing anything.  Just standing in the street at odd intervals, like actors waiting for someone to yell “action!”  Some pressed up against the barricade, or faced the houses, but many stood with their backs turned toward Meadowbrook, as if they’d just frozen in the act of walking down the street.  Lydia’s heart leapt into her throat as she tore her eyes from the street and looked back towards Eric's house.  She didn't want to keep staring at the gruesome figures, too afraid that she might start recognizing bodies and faces. 

She had never seen so many Burnouts in the same place.  Even in the worst days of the summer, when they had been constructing the barricades and the noise had been unavoidable, the most they had ever had to deal with was seven or eight. 

"What should we do?" Ava whispered, stepping back from the window.  Behind them, Caleb leaned over and whispered something to Zack, before striding forward to look for himself.  His expression tightened at the sight in the street, confusion flashing across his face.  

"I don't know," Andrew said.  Lydia had never heard him sound so nervous.  "Mike went over to Eric's, but he hasn't signaled anything.  They...this doesn't make sense!  They were leaving this morning!"   

Lydia crossed her arms.  "I'm going over to Eric's," she announced. 

Andrew narrowed his eyes, glancing over at his wife before nodding slowly.  He heaved a tired sigh.  "Swing around through the back yards," he said.  “And for God’s sake, be
careful
.” 

“They shouldn’t be able to see me from the street,” she replied. "Av, you coming?”

“You know it,” Ava said immediately.  Behind them, Caleb stepped away from the window. 

“Mind if I tag along?” he asked. 

“I guess so,” Lydia answered after a moment of surprise, seeing no reason to protest.  They trooped back down to the first floor, the Reeds trailing behind them.  Zack didn’t bother holding onto Caleb’s belt this time, but Lydia heard him counting the stairs under his breath as he went.         

"Want your cane?"  Caleb queried.  Lydia glanced over her shoulder to see Zack giving a tired nod. 

"Might as well...looks like we're gonna be here a while.  God, I miss Bella," he said in a subdued, tired voice. 

Caleb’s face softened.  “I know man, I’m sorry.”  Zack hooked a hand onto Caleb's elbow, and the two broke off for the living room.  

Ava paused in the hallway that led back to the guest room, one hand twisting and untwisting the length of her black hair into a coil.  Sweat sheened on her forehead, and her dark eyes were wide enough for Lydia to see the whites all around.   "You think it's going to be all right?" she asked. 

Lydia blew out a breath.  "Let’s see what Grandpa and Jim say," she said, shaking her head.  "I don't know, Av.  There's so many." 

She forced herself to keep her voice steady, to not show any hint of the pinpricks of icy fear that felt like they were crawling up her spine.  She wanted, oh she
wanted
, to believe that whatever had drawn the Burnouts would go away, and the things would follow.  It was not the first time that there had been Burnouts on the street...it was not even the first time there had been a large enough group to warrant shifting the lookout to Mr. Grant's house while the rest of them hid. 

But it had never been like this.  Lydia had never seen that many Burnouts near their street.  And the way they were just standing there, unmoving.  Like they were watching for something.  Like they were
waiting
for something.  Her heart pounded against her ribs with the force of a jackhammer and the hair on the back of her neck kept prickling, like someone was standing right behind her.

She wanted Grandpa. 

Ava closed her eyes, her whole body slumping for a moment.  Her friend reached under her collar and drew out the little silver cross she’d been wearing as long as Lydia had known her, murmuring to herself in Spanish.  Lydia was conversant after a decade of them practically living in each other’s pockets (and could swear like a Mexican national thanks to Ava’s big brother), but she still had to take a few seconds to translate in her head.  She waited silently while Ava pulled herself together, nudging her friend with her shoulder when Ava straightened again. 

“Okay?” she asked.  Ava exhaled shakily. 

  "Okay," she agreed. "Let’s head over there."  Her voice did not sound as steady as her words, but Lydia didn’t call her on it.  She nodded, shoving her hands into her jeans pockets.

"
You know it don’t work like that!
" 

The words came out in a furious hiss that tried to be quiet and missing the mark. It sounded like Zack’s voice.  Lydia pulled up short, nearly causing Ava to slam into her.  Caleb whispered something back, too low for Lydia to make out, and then she heard Zack let out an aggrieved sigh. 

"
I don’t know, okay?  Maybe…
"  He trailed off.  Lydia looked over at Ava, confused.  Zack sounded upset.  Frustrated.  Lydia tilted her head, curious, before striding into the living room. 

"Everything okay?" she asked.  Caleb and Zack were huddled over their duffle bag, heads bent low together. The two startled at the sound of Lydia’s voice, and Caleb took a hasty step back from his brother.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” Caleb said, running a hand through his messy hair.  “We’re just trying to figure out how I’m going to go get the truck.” 

“Uh, with forty Burnouts out there, I’d say you’re
not
,” Lydia said.  Zack’s lips thinned and one hand shot out to land a solid smack on his brother’s stomach.

“Thank you!” he exclaimed.  “See bro?  Rule eight—when a pretty girl tells you you’re doing something stupid, you need to listen.  And may I say, the two of you sound
beautiful.
” He grinned playfully, sketching an exaggerated bow in their direction.   

One of Ava’s eyebrows climbed towards her hairline.  “Rule eight?” she repeated.

“God, don’t ask,” Caleb said.  He rolled his eyes in a gesture Lydia suspected was a standard response around his brother.  “Trust me.” 

Lydia glanced between the boys for a moment, chewing on the inside of her lip.   “Anyway,” she drawled out, “we’re ready to go if you are.” 

Caleb nodded.  “Yeah, yeah I’m good.  Zack, you gonna be okay here?” 

Zack reached down and patted their duffle bag sitting on the end of the Royce’s couch.  He picked up a compact metal bar, about six inches long and mostly covered with a foam grip.  He tapped the bare metal end against his jeans-clad thigh and stood up, swinging the contraption in a slow arc about six inches in front of him.  A barely-visible red shimmer extended from the metal end, exactly the same size and shape as the arc he’d just swung it in, and he took a couple experimental steps forward, moving the device—and the shimmering light field—from side to side.  When the edge of the field passed over one of Ava’s shoes, it flared brighter and expanded to encompass more area, while a faint buzzing came from the part of the handle under the foam grip.  Zack sidestepped neatly, and the buzzing stopped as soon as the energy field cleared Ava’s body. 

“Think I’m good,” he said cheerfully.  “No worries.  I’ll just reorganize the ammo bag, sharpen the knives or something.” 

“Awesome.  Don’t cut yourself,” Caleb said.  Zack snorted. 

“
I’m
not the one has that problem,” he smirked, with a knowing expression.

“Shut up, that don’t even count.”  Caleb reached over and scrubbed his hand over Zack’s hair, startling an irritated squawk out of his brother. 

“What?  All I’m saying is—there’s two people who handle all the sharp things we have, and it ain’t the blind one that’s been running down our band aid supply.” 

“Punk,” Caleb muttered affectionately.  “I’ll be back as soon as I can, man.” He turned to Lydia and Ava.  “You said something about the back yards?” 

#

For two weeks after they barricaded themselves in on Meadowbrook, Grandpa, Jim, and Andrew did nothing but circle the court and try to put as many failsafes and emergency plans (and backup plans, and
backup
backup plans) into place as possible. There were small supplies of food and bottled water in every house, three central points where their spare weapons and ammo—mostly from Grandpa’s collection—were stored, a complex system of signals and all-clears that everyone had had to memorize…

And each of the back yards of the houses had been painstakingly connected. 

Thanks to some robberies a few years back, and a massive neighborhood campaign, each yard was enclosed by a six-foot privacy fence.  Once the barricades were all as solid as possible, Eric Grant carefully cut through two or three boards in each fence that didn’t already have a connecting gate, then bolted hinges onto the sawed-off boards and reattached them, forming miniature doors in the fences that were just big enough for a person to squeeze through.  The result was one continuous loop around the backs of the houses that would allow them to stay out of sight while going from house to house. 

They slipped through the ‘doorway’ that let out of the Royce’s backyard and into Emily DeSantos’s.  Caleb held the boards open for Lydia and Ava, and then grunted as his solid frame impeded his progress a bit.

Lydia bit her lip and cleared her throat quietly.  “Is your brother okay?” she asked as they made their way over grass dry enough to crunch under their steps.  Caleb turned back to her with a raised eyebrow. 

“Loaded question,” he said, “but yeah, he’s as okay as anyone gets these days.  Why?”

“I just—he was talking about someone in the hallway.  Bella?  I mean, was that your sister? His girlfriend?” 

To her surprise, Caleb snorted in laughter, quickly stifling it.  “Yeah, Bella was definitely the closest thing Zack’ll ever have to a girlfriend!”  He shook his head, still grinning, though now the smile was tinged with melancholy.  “She was Zack’s service dog.  Big, giant German Shepherd Zack qualified for when he was twelve.  Sweet old thing; I kinda miss her too.” 

Ava’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “Wait, I thought Burnouts left the animals alone.  There were a couple of cats we used to see wandering around up the street; Burnouts never bothered them.” 

“Oh no, no, she wasn’t with us when all this went down.  Me and Zack were down near Charleston when they started trying to quarantine cities.  Kind of a road trip, just the two of us.  Zack’s thinking.  Well.  He
was
thinking about Florida for college.  Took him to see a couple schools, travel around a little.  We were on our way back when the first reports started going off.  We were tryin’ to get back home, but…”  Caleb’s went quiet, low and sad.

“Where’s home?” Ava asked gently as they came to the next fence.  Again, Caleb held the boards for them, and then boosted himself over rather than trying to squeeze through.

“Here,” he said, landing with a soft grunt.  “Well, Ohio, anyway.  We grew up in Portsmouth, little town right on the river across from Kentucky.” 

Once again, Lydia pulled up short in surprise.  A few places in Ohio had gone dark, but the state had not yet been declared no-man’s land the way places like New York and Florida had.  And the area Caleb was talking about was a good two hours south of them—he and Zack would have had to pass
through
there to get to Columbus.

Caleb sighed, reading the confusion in their faces.  “We made it pretty close, but the roads started backing up the closer we got to home,” he began, his voice as raw and choked as it had been last night with her grandfather and Andrew pointing weapons at him.  “Couldn’t pick up anyone on the radio, no signs of life.  There’s nothing there. So we just kept goin’.  S’all we got.  And Zack says—” He broke off, shaking his head.  “It’s all we’ve got.”