Killshot (Icarus Series Book 1) (11 page)

Chapter 12

The Loop

               “What the hell does he mean by
killshot?”
Mike sputtered. “There has to be a mistake. This doesn’t make any sense.”

              He had been repeating the same thing, since the video first aired. Mike was the poster-child for irony as he paced back and forth in front of the treadmills. Andy, on the other hand, had grown uncharacteristically silent. He stood with his back against the wall, staring down at the floor. He chewed his bottom lip and every few seconds he would shake his head, but he didn’t speak.

              Falisha wandered around the weight room, holding her cell phone up at weird angles, trying to get a signal. Zack decided it was best to distract himself with bicep curls, on the end of one of the benches.

              Everyone seemed lost, disconnected—waiting, but not knowing what for.

              The news report cut off seconds after Taylor’s outburst but had started over from the beginning less than ten seconds later. Again, and again it played. The frumpy middle-aged guy would say,
seek shelter
. Dr. Taylor said
good luck with that, we are screwed
. Tackle, loud bang, black screen.

              Zander said the video was on a loop, which was apparently not a good sign, as we had no idea how long it had already been playing. Either way, Taylor had said the storm would pass in twenty-four hours. As soon as it did, I was out of there. Beans was counting on me, and I was hell-bent on getting to him, though I still hadn’t figured out where he was.

              I knew the name of the family that had taken him in (because, duh, a foster family named Foster?) but had no idea where they lived. To get that information, I would have to go to the social services office, which was two towns over in Sterling. I had no idea how I would get there, or if traveling would even be safe, but I would find a way. I had a promise to keep, and I couldn’t just sit there doing nothing.

              The stillness of the weight room was unsettling. It felt like the walls were closing in, and I could no longer think straight. I needed to move around to clear my head. As soon as I stood, I felt their eyes on me. I was sure they were awaiting instruction, or just looking for answers, but I had neither to offer, so I turned my back and closed my eyes, shutting everything out.

              I used to get this way before a big race. No matter how many times I won, I was on edge, until the very second my feet hit the starting blocks. I had a routine, a compulsive ritual really, that I used to perform before every race. It always used to help me harness that nervous energy, so I figured it was worth a shot.

             
Focus
.

              I shrugged my shoulders slowly until the tension built up in my neck and upper back, and then I let them drop. I did this again and again, until my muscles started to burn, then left them at my sides while I jumped up and down on the balls of my feet. I could feel my pulse picking up, enlivened by the sound of my own heartbeat echoing in my ears.

             
Focus on the beat
.

              Lub-dup…lub-dup…lub-dup.

              I centered my weight and straightened my spine as I rolled my head in slow, deliberate, circles. Anyone who hadn’t been staring at me before was definitely doing so now. I could feel the heat of the stares at my back. My dad had always said he thought I performed best under pressure. So, I slowly turned to face the group and hoped to hell he was right.

              “Hey, guys,” I said, and the room quieted. “I know things are kind of a mess right now, and we are all scared, and worried. I wish I had more answers for you, but I’m afraid we are at a disadvantage here. Jake and Zander are monitoring the computer and they will let us know if anything changes, but it’s going to be a bit of a waiting game from here on out.”

              “That’s it? We just
wait
?” Tara rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

              “For now,” I said, fixing her with my stare. “It’s almost four in the morning and it’s not safe to travel, so for now, yeah, we wait. I suggest we all grab a bite, get some rest, and we’ll see how things look in the morning.”

              The group slowly disbursed, raided the blue recycling bin for their choice of junk food and sodas and lumbered to the spaces they had claimed for themselves to settle in for the night. I knew they were all worried about their families, but there was nothing we could do about any of that right now. Once again, Tara stepped in front of me, cutting me off as I reached for a bottle of water.

              “
That’s
your big plan?” Tara asked, spite dripping from every word. “You want us to eat a candy bar and take a nap? You have got to be kidding!”

              “Okay, seriously, Tara,” I said, exasperated. My head was pounding and I was exhausted. “You don’t like me, I get it. We all get it. But, give me a damn break, okay? I am doing the best I can here.”

              “This isn’t some stupid track meet, Liv. I hate to break it to you, but maybe your best just isn’t good enough, anymore.” Her hair swung in a blond arc over her shoulder as she turned on her heel and stomped off.

              “Don’t listen to her,” Jake said around a mouthful of chips. He was sitting on the floor near the supplies, still hunched over that computer. “She probably thinks this is the freaking rapture and she’s pissed off because God hasn’t beamed her up yet, or whatever.”

              “Maybe,” I said, laughing weakly as I rubbed the back of my neck. The dull throb in my head had grown to a steady ache. The pressure behind my eyes was almost too much to bear.

              “I’m sorry, but if this is all part of God’s plan
,
then the guy is a
dick
. Seriously. He could flip the switch on all this fire and brimstone crap any time. Or at the very least, give me a couple bars for shit sakes!” He yelled up at the ceiling, waving his phone over his head.

              “Agreed,” I said, smiling.

              “I mean, point taken, right?” Jake smirked. “Whatever, I’m sure I’m going to hell anyways, so what do I care?”

              “Save me a seat if you get there first,” I said, sliding my phone out of my pocket as I walked away.

              No one had been able to get a signal on their phones for hours, and as hard as Jake had tried, he made no headway with the laptop. The only thing he could access was the
killshot
news loop. He turned the volume down so we didn’t have to listen to it anymore and parked himself in front of the screen, just in case something changed.

              I grabbed a few granola bars, shoved them in my back pocket, and snagged a bag of cool ranch Doritos for Riley. They were her favorite and, though I personally could not stand them, I hoped they would help cheer her up. She had not said more than a few words to anyone since the loop had begun a few hours ago.

              Micah had cleared a spot for them against the mirrored wall and tossed down a few of the yoga mats for them to sit on. He was slumped at her side, his hand resting gently on her lower back, looking helpless. Riley was biting her nails, hard lines etched across her forehead. I approached slowly and smiled at Micah, who seemed momentarily relieved to have back up.

              “Hey, Ry,” I said softly. “You okay?”

              She answered much too quickly, her speech rushed and manic as she forced a smile onto her face. “Oh, me? I am just
fantastic
, best day of my life, actually.”

              “Riley,” I said, lowering myself to my knees in front of her. “Talk to me.”

              “I don’t understand any of this Liv. I mean, how did I miss it? I knew what had happened in 1859, but I never thought—” Her eyes shot wide. “Oh my god. It’s my fault.”

              “Riley, no,” I said.

              “But it is, though,” she sobbed, her hand covering her mouth. “I set this whole stupid thing up, Liv. Sara and Blake are dead because of me.”

              “Riley, no. You can’t—” I argued, but she cut me off.

              “I am the reason they were here,” Riley said, tears running down her face. “I am the reason
everyone
was here tonight. I practically held you at gunpoint to get you here, Liv. I am so sorry. If I hadn’t—”

              “Riley, Stop!” I grabbed her wrists and pinned them against her lap. “This is
not
your fault, do you hear me? There is no way you could have known any of this would happen. This is something that happened
to you
, not something you did.”

              She launched herself the short distance between us and hugged me tightly around my neck. Her tears flowed freely, sending streaks of black mascara down her cheeks. I didn’t say a word. I held my best friend as she cried and did not let go until she had nothing left. Finally, she sagged against me and let her arms drop. She took a deep breath and sat back against Micah, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.

              “I am a hot mess,” she joked, smiled weakly through a tear-stained face.

              “No more than usual,” I nudged her, dropped the chips in her lap, and she smiled. “Try to get some rest, Ry, okay?”

              “’Kay,” she said, sounding exhausted. “By the way, in case you are wondering, Zander is over there helping Jake with the laptop.”

              I laughed, grateful to see a tiny glint of my Riley there. After another quick hug, she and Micah retreated to their yoga mats and curled up on their sides with their backs to the room. Micah reached draped a clean towel across their hips like a blanket, but the gesture was seeking security rather than warmth, which
we had plenty of.

              It was easily ninety-five degrees in that basement so I was glad I had chosen my trusty racer-back and holey jeans today. Thanks to the overhead water pipes, the humidity had become thick enough to suffocate. The air was unnaturally still, leaving nowhere hide from the relentless grasp of the stagnant heat. I swiped at the sweat on my brow, though it made little difference.

              This had been one of the longest days of my life and I was so tired, it hurt to move. Every muscle screamed at me as the last of the adrenaline drained slowly from my body. I had gotten maybe ninety minutes of fitful sleep the night before, so my throbbing head was also buzzing from exhaustion now. I was dehydrated and I knew I needed to rest, but my nerves were still too raw to consider closing my eyes. I grabbed a bottle of water and walked toward the glow of the old laptop.

              “Anything?” I asked the guys as I took a swig from the bottle.

              “Nope.” Zander shook his head.

              “Old-ass laptop,” Jake muttered, not even pausing to look up at me.

              “It’s just the same thing, over and over. We tried re-routing the signal and tapping into neighboring Wi-Fi networks, but—” Zander trailed off, looking down at the computer as Jake clicked away.

              “I figured as much,” I said, absently rubbing at my temples. “Maybe we’ll have better luck in the morning.”

              “Maybe,” Zander said. Sweat dripped to the floor as he rose to his feet. “Liv, are you okay? You don’t look so hot.”

              “Eh, I’m fine,” I shrugged, staring down at the monstrous bandage on his arm. “What about you? How’s the hand?”

              “Much better,” he said, flourishing the lumpy beige wrap as if it were a shiny new sword. It stretched from the middle of his fingers to his elbow, but even through the thick wrapping, I could tell his hand was pretty swollen.

              “Zander?” I said, crossing my arms in disbelief.

              “Scouts honor,” he said, attempting the Boy Scout salute with his gimpy hand. “It hardly hurts at all anymore.”

              “Maybe, but it looks ridiculous,” I laughed, rolling my eyes as he tried to give me a thumbs up.

              “I think it makes me look tough,” he chuckled as he grabbed my hand and led me over to the last empty corner in the room. “Where did you learn how to do that, anyway?”

              “My dad,” I said, suddenly fascinated by the tube of antibiotic ointment I had apparently shoved back into my pocket at some point. I hadn’t really talked about my parents to anyone but Riley since it happened and even then it was vague generalities. It felt weird just saying the word
dad
out loud.

              “Cool,” Zander said, patting the mat to indicate I should sit. “So, your dad, is he like a cop or a doctor, or something?”

              “No, nothing like that,” I laughed, sitting down next to him. “He was just really into that survivalist stuff. Every couple of weeks each summer, he would take us on these primitive camping trips. He’d pack us all up head out into the sticks;
rough-its
, he called them. So, one weekend, we’d find ourselves in Wisconsin, the next it’d be the Ozarks,” I waved my hand.