Ballistic: Icarus Series, Book Two

by Aria Michaels

  “Maybe,” I said forcing a smile as Zander joined us and slid his hand into mine. A pang of guilt shot straight through my heart. I released his hand and dropped to a knee to scratch Bella behind her ears. “You need to have Collin take a look at your back.”

  “Liv, you have to stop blaming yourself. None of this was your fault,” he muttered, tucking his empty hand into his pocket. “It’s okay.”

  “No, Zander. It’s not.” I glanced up at him, and then quickly turned away, burying my face in Bella’s neck.

  “Liv, please,” Zander reached out to me.

  “Don’t,” I said, pulling away.

  “Clearly…I need…to do more…cardio,” Jake panted as he and the others caught up. His eyes bounced back and forth from me to Zander. “Everything…okay here?”

  “Just fine,” I said through gritted teeth. I could feel Zander’s eyes on me but studiously avoided them.

  Collin had already set to work reattaching the I.V to Megan’s arm. Tessa hovered close by, watching over the doctor’s shoulder. She paced back and forth as he worked. On her third pass, she stopped suddenly as realization struck. She shot to the foot of Megan’s old cot and peeled back the sheet. A slight woman with a severe knot in her hair lay mangled at Tessa’s feet.

  “Jesus. Vivienne.” Tessa gasped, her eyes locked on the bloody, blonde mess. “Collin, what the hell happened here?”

  “Doyle happened,” Eli said, shaking his head in dismay. “He killed her.”

  “You expect me to believe that Brenton Doyle did this?” Tessa shook her head in disbelief. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he hurt her? I want to talk to him. Where is he?”

  “Dead,” Falisha said, her voice hollow.

  “I don’t understand,” Tessa said.

  “It’s not that complicated,” Falisha said. “I shot him in the face. He died. The end.”

  “You k-k-killed D-Doyle?” Devon’s eyes went wide. “F-for real?”

  “She didn’t have a choice,” Eli said. “He turned.”

  “It’s true. We didn’t know he was infected until he attacked that blonde lady,” Jake said. “We found the bite mark on his shoulder after Falisha— after it was over.”

  “Tessa, he got Brenda, too.” Heavy lines settled across Collin’s forehead. “I tried to stop him. He tossed me aside like a ragdoll and pulled her into the washroom. I can’t get her screams out of my head.”

  Crimson streaks led from the infirmary to the unisex bathroom a few yards away. Judging by the pattern of the blood and the claw marks on the outside of the door, Brenda was still alive when he dragged her away. My stomach dropped, and bile rose up into my throat.

  “Jesus.” Tessa sighed, grinding her palms into her eyes. “What about the kids?”

  “They’re okay,” Collin said. “Well, physically, anyways.”

  “All of the kids were down at the cook station making snacks with Rhiannon when it happened. As far as we know, none of them saw anything.” Riley said. “I will go and check on them for you, okay?”

  “I’m coming with you,” Jake said following at her heels. “I need to check on my sister.”

  “Tessa, the kids. We can’t let them see—” Collin’s voice caught in his throat. He shook himself and squared his shoulders, storming off toward the bathrooms. “We have to get these bodies out of here.”

  “I can’t let you do that, Collin,” Tessa stepped in front of him, laying her hand gently on his chest. “You focus on taking care of the living. Let me worry about the dead.”

  “Okay,” he sighed brushing his thumb along Tessa’s jaw, “but please, be careful.”

  “Of course,” Tessa smiled at him. “How about you go and check on my girl.”

  Megan sat cross-legged on one of the chairs, fidgeting with one of her bootlaces. The poor kid had been through a terrible ordeal, and it had clearly taken its toll on her. Her cheeks were gaunt, and her skin had a sickly pallor. The black tendrils that lurked beneath her skin had begun to fade, but their presence was still visible. Her wispy thin hair fell in a limp curtain around her face, barely obscuring the shadows there.

  Her head snapped up as if I’d spoken my thoughts aloud. The silver band that surrounded her pale green irises flashed like a beacon in the night. She cocked her head to the side, her brows knitted in confusion. I smiled at her and nodded, my chest tightening with nervous energy. After a moment of consideration, she dipped her chin, shrugged, and then returned her attention to the fascinating string dangling from her worn out boot.

  A commotion drew my attention from the surly girl with the rock-n-roll t-shirt to the other end of the carousel. A crowd was gathering near the food prep area. I shrugged it off as Rhiannon’s dinner rush until I saw Riley and Jake running toward me. Jake was waving his arms like a maniac. I took off at a clip and met them near the lockers.

  “They’re back.” Riley’s eyes were bright. “Ty and Ballard are back!”

  “And they’re not alone,” Jake added pulling me toward the gathering crowd.

  “Excuse me,” I muttered as I tried to shove my way through the wall of curious onlookers.

  Whispers mixed with shouts as the residents of Carousel F worked themselves into a frenzy near the escalators. Keith was doing the best he could with crowd control, but his handy-dandy clipboard was far from a magic wand. It did little to stifle their fervent inquisition.

  “Okay, back up, everyone,” Keith shouted at them. “Just let them breathe.”

  “Who is that with you, Ballard?”

  “Great,” said one of the women who’d wandered over from the kitchen. “Another mouth to feed.”

  “What happened to his face?” a girl whispered to her mother.

  “Riley, go and get Collin and Zander,” I whispered as an odd weight settled in my belly. “Now.”

  She nodded grimly and took off running.

  “Is he from the camp, Vic?” The girl I’d seen reading on the escalator earlier spoke up.

  “Yes. Now, please, stand aside,” Ballard said, trying to placate the horde so he could wedge his way through it.

  Unfortunately, he’d only managed to add fuel to the fire. The carousel erupted. People began pushing and shoving, desperate to be heard over the choir of questions flying through the air. Before her death, Vivienne had planted seeds of doubt throughout carousel F. Thanks to the bloodshed of the last few hours; those seeds had taken root and begun to spread. People were scared.

  “Can we go there?” Someone yelled.

  “Yes. Is it safe?” a woman asked. “Why are the soldiers—?”

  “What did you see?” asked a stocky man in a green football jersey.

  “Back up, y’all,” Ty said as the people surged toward him and his charge.

  “Out of my way. Move!” The jersey guy pushed through the line and got in Ballard’s face. “Hold up, there, Vic. Not so fast.”

  “Let us through, Ethan,” Ballard said, sidestepping him.

  “Uh-uh, not happening.” The man shifted with him and poked Ballard in the chest with his thick finger. “You aren’t going anywhere until we get some answers.”

  “Step aside, please,” Ballard said squaring his shoulders.

  Ty was behind him, half-carrying someone who clearly needed it. Besides a pair of gray cotton pants and a measured gate, I couldn’t make out much beneath the thin navy blue airport security slicker Ballard had thrown over him. His face was completely hidden in the shadows of its massive hood.

  “Come on y’all, this fella’s hurtin’ pretty bad,” Ty said hefting the hooded figure slumped at his side. “He needs to see Dr. Acer.”

  “And we really need to get the hell out of this damn airport,” Ethan said. “Your new charity case can wait.”

  “Move, Ethan,” Ballard palmed his holster and stepped closer to the man in the jersey. “Don’t make me ask you again.”

  “You gonna shoot me, Ballard?” He laughed just inches from Ballard’s face. “You probably don’t even kn
ow how to work that little pellet gun, do you?”

  “You really want to find out?” Ballard’s jaw clenched.

  “Alright, now, ain’t none of this ruckus is necessary,” Ty said, doing his best to sound calm. “I know y’all have questions—”

  “Then maybe you should start answering them,” another guy shouted, muscling in next to Ethan. “Unless you got something to hide, that is.”

  “Is that it?” Ethan glared at Ballard. “You hiding something, boy?”

  “People, please,” Keith raised his voice. “This man is badly injured and needs medical assistance.”

  “Let them through,” I said.

  “Not one of us. Not our problem.” Ethan glared down his nose at me. “I think it’s high time we stopped taking in strays and start taking care of our own.”

  A chorus of muttered agreements rang out through the carousel as more of the residents closed ranks. I understood the need to protect your people more than most, but I knew in my gut that this man was not a threat. By the looks of it, he could barely hold himself upright, let alone mount any kind of attack. I slid my fingers into my mouth and shattered the noisy protest with a shrill whistle. Bella barked her agreement from across the room, and the carousel fell silent.

  “That’s enough,” I said squaring up against a man twice my size. “You need to stand down. Tessa is—”

  “Tessa isn’t here, right now, is she?” Ethan wheeled on me and took a step closer, jabbing a finger in my face. “Sorry, little girl, but you have no authority here. Hell, you wouldn’t even be here if she hadn’t dumped you in our laps.”

  “Looks like we have something in common, then,” I said not backing down.

  “I don’t think so. You and your pack of mutts don’t belong here any more than that freak.” Ethan jerked his head to the side with a sneer. “Viv was right. Tessa had no right bringing you here.”

  “You need to back off,” Ballard gripped his sidearm as he slid next to me.

  “You gonna make me?” Ethan puffed out his chest.

  “Hey, we just want to know what’s going on at that camp.” Ethan’s friend pointed to the young man huddled beneath Ty’s arm. “He’s been there.”

  “Exactly,” Ethan smirked. “You tell us what we want to know, and you get to see the doc. How about that?”

  “Payment for services rendered,” his friend said.

  “Good one, Tanner,” Ethan smiled.

  “This ain’t right, y’all,” Ty protested as he struggled to hold the young man up. “He’s in real bad shape.”

  “That place.” The broken shadow hunched at Ty’s side hobbled forward. He tugged weakly at his hood, dropping the jacket to the floor. “It’s…a lie.”

  “Oh, my God,” I said, my heart dropping to my feet.

  His head was completely bald, and his skin was yellow-gray and sallow. Half of his face was covered in black skin. The rest was battered and bloody. A large metal barb jutted out from his temple. There was another just behind his ear and two more on either side of his chest, a couple of inches below his collarbone. He had a massive wound on his shoulder that was caked with dirt and detritus. Small shards of wood and rock were embedded in his flesh. Blood seeped from each of the entry wounds, dripping onto the floor at his feet.

  “Help themm,” he slurred, swaying on his feet.

  Ethan covered his mouth with his shirt and took a massive step back. His eyes went wide in horror. Suddenly he had nothing to say. None of them did.

  “Alright, everyone step aside,” Zander said, plowing aside the dumbstruck crowd so Collin and Riley could get through.

  “Liv, we’re—” Riley stopped dead in her tracks, squinting at the wavering mess before her. “Micah?”

  “Hey…babe.” He smiled wanly, his mismatched eyes rolled back, and he collapsed in a heap at Riley’s feet.

  Chapter 35

  Broken

  “Lay him down there, across the seats,” Collin said, snapping on a pair of latex gloves. “Devon, grab the red bag. Victor, go and tell Squints we are going to need the big solar light. Hurry!”

  “On it.” Ballard spun on his heel and took off across the carousel.

  Ty and Zander gently lowered Micah across the flat bank of seating at the center of the infirmary area. Riley grabbed my hand and dragged me closer to Micah’s side. Jake and Falisha crowded in next to us, their eyes wide in shock.

  “I can’t believe he’s really here,” Riley whispered, clutching my arm. Fear and confusion twisted her face. “I was sure I’d never see him again.”

  “That makes two of us,” I said, guilt rising in my throat.

  Megan, who just minutes ago had been freed from her IV leash, lingered at the edge of the pack watching intently. Devon returned quickly and dropped a small red tool bag onto the floor at Collin’s feet, then handed him a stack of blue hand towels.

  “Thank you,” Collin said, sifting through the supplies.

  He pulled out a bottle of distilled water, a container of alcohol, a pair of scissors, and a small stick wrapped in white paper. He tore open the package and waved it under Micah’s nose. His swollen face tensed for a moment but immediately went slack. Collin tried again but got no reaction.

  “Damn.” The doctor’s brow furrowed.

  “What was that?” Falisha asked.

  “Smelling salts,” Megan said. “If that didn’t wake him up, he’s in trouble.”

  “Zander, I need you to tilt his head back, please,” Collin said as he worked to cut the clothing from Micah’s limp body. “His breathing is a bit strained for my liking. We need to make sure his airway stays open.”

  Zander reached over the chair awkwardly and tilted his cousin’s chin in the air. “Like this?”

  “Jeez, are you trying to paralyze him?” Megan rushed over and shoved Zander’s hands aside.

  She crouched on the floor near Micah’s head, slid her hands beneath his neck, and gently tipped his head toward her. Her slender fingers linked at the base of his skull and her thumbs cradled his jaw, keeping his mouth open. The rattling in his throat immediately softened, though it was clear he was still struggling.

  She leaned her ear over his mouth and closed her eyes, adjusting the angle of his neck until the wheezing had all but subsided. When she opened her eyes again, she realized everyone in the room was fixated on her, and her entire demeanor changed.

  “Don’t look so shocked.” Megan rolled her eyes.

  “Where did you learn that?” I asked her.

  “I spent two annoying summers lifeguarding at the park. I only did it because my mom and dad are always—” Megan averted her eyes and swallowed hard. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter, now.”

  There’s a certain kind of quiet that accompanies profound loss. It was a vacuum that each of us had grown to understand. The emptiness was not meant to be filled. Sometimes silence is the only way to honor the dark space that exists between two broken heartbeats.

  So, we let it be.

  “What the hell happened to him out there?” Zander fumed, raking his fingers through his hair as he paced. “Ty, did he tell you anything?”

  “Not much,” Ty shook his head. “He just said some doctor-lady did this to him. He just kept saying, help them. Help them.”

  Ballard returned with the solar light just as Collin finally managed to slice his way through the last of Micah’s hoodie. Ballard held the light up on his shoulder, aimed it down at Micah, and flicked the switch. The light flickered to life, bathing Micah’s battered form in a stark white glow.

  “Holy hell,” Collin gasped, dropping the soiled fabric to the floor.

  “Whoa,” Megan said with a scowl. “Poor guy looks thrashed.”

  “Oh, Micah,” Riley gasped. Her hand shot to her mouth.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up, young man,” Collin said solemnly, patting Micah’s hand.

  His expression was grim as he uncapped the bottle of purified water and slowly dumped its contents across Micah’s face and
chest. Nearly every inch of skin that wasn’t blackened with disease was caked in dried blood and muck. Swampy fluid rolled over his broken body, rinsing away the last vestiges of his protective shell. Collin muttered curses under his breath, gently wiping away the filth with one of the towels. As the layers of dirt disappeared, the evidence of the torment Micah had endured over the last few days became painfully obvious.

  The virus had taken a greater physical toll on Micah than it had the rest of us. Blackened, reptilian-looking flesh rolled across one side of his body from his hairline to his hip where it disappeared beneath the waistband of his tattered jeans. Beneath his fallen lids were two mismatched eyes. One was a silver-gray, the other was black as night. The way the GRS virus had manifested in Micah was terrifying, but it wasn’t the side effects of the disease that drew my breath. It was massive wound on his shoulder and the garish, boot-shaped bruises across his ribcage. Deep, horizontal slashes laddered his skin at one-inch intervals from his jawline to his heart. Each cut was deeper than the last. Some of the injuries were days old, others were fresh enough that they still bled. Not one of them had been treated.

  The metal probes jutted from his head and chest like the studded half of an over-sized snap. The tips were rounded and capped in some kind of clear resin with a small filament at the center. When Collin touched the knob embedded in Micah’s temple, it sparked.

  “Ouch,” Collin jerked his hand back and ripped off the glove. The latex had melted clean through, leaving a welt on Collin’s fingertip.

  “Jesus.” Zander clasped his fingers behind his head and frowned.

  Undaunted, Collin snapped on a new glove and set back to work. With a damp towel, he wiped most of the blood from Micah’s hands, and then pushed down on each of his fingernails. The slightest compression drained them of their color for a moment. Then, the yellowish hue returned.

  “Hmm,” Collin said applying firm pressure to the darkened flesh on the side of Micah’s face. “Normal elasticity. I hadn’t expected that. Dim the light for a moment, would you Victor?”