Silenced (15 page)

Targets.

Kiwi is a pretty good shot. Tripp, a pretty bad one. Another loud boom, then a series of them pound the air. I turn back around and start set the rifle onto the stock.

“Whoa, whoa!” Flo smacks the side of my arm. “You always jump right in like that?”

Ignoring her to the best of my ability, I pick up a magazine and prepare this beauty to shoot things.

“You have to name her if you want her to work hard for you.” She’s shouting over the now consistent rounds of fire Kiwi and Tripp are getting off.

I sigh, guessing she’s one of those people it’s easier just to give in to. Through narrowed eyes, I study the rifle like I’m actually giving this a lot of thought. Then, I say the first name that comes to mind.

“Lily.”

“No way, she looks more like a Mia.”

“Fine, Mia it is.” I drop to the ground and set Mia up, all the while pretending to listen as Flo run off at the mouth about something or another. When I’m all set up, I peer through the scope.

Targets are spread all over the yard, in differing distances and sizes. The farthest one looks about four hundred and fifty feet away. A draft of wind rushes past my ear as I line up my shot.

I tune out the gunfire.

I tune out Flo’s manic chatter.

I force myself to only see my target in the distance, small round and wooden with dark blue paint on its surface. It’s settled between two bare trees. There, in the stillness I create in my mind, some advice given to me when I was ten years old echoes back.

Shoot between heartbeats, my keeper always used to say.

I breathe.

My heart thuds.

I wait, then pull the trigger before the next beat of my heart. The small target splinters into wood shavings, and I grin. Hardly any recoil. I feel like a kid playing laser tag again, and I shoot the damn thing off until its lunchtime.

The rest of the day consists of target practice and working out. After we eat a quiet dinner, we head back outside and prepare to take on the obstacle course. I glance over at Kiwi, and for the first time today, Tripp is not flanking her.

My eyes dart to him. He’s seated on the ground, staring up at the darkening sky. I trudge over to her.

“Hey,” I say when I’m only inches away.

She looks up and glowers at me. I offer a forced smile, a gesture she returns with a hiss.

I ignore her usual reply to me and say, “Hey, look… About earlier, I’m sorry for being a dick.”

Her eyes narrow. “What?”

I hesitate because I didn’t expect her to be confused. “Um, I’m apologizing?” My face wrinkles. “I didn’t mean to…”

She reaches over and pats my shoulder. “It’s all good, Pike.”

My shoulders relax. “Oh, good. Because you seemed…”

“I said we’re good,” she says, not interested in the rest of what I was going to say. “Not friends, but we can be civil.” Then she turns and saunters off in Tripp’s direction.

I try not to stare at her ass as she goes.

I try, but it’s a great ass.

As we all wait outside for Juliet the ground starts to shake. I dart my eyes around, trying to find the source of the quaking. Finally, a streak of silver flashes across my vision.

I squint against pale yellow sky.

“What is that?” Tripp asks.

I shrug, folding my hand over my eyes to see better. The closer it is gets, the harder the ground rumbles. Within seconds, its close enough to tell it’s a large a mining truck. A smaller, armored car is trailing it.

I start to back away as the vehicle’s monster tires come digging through the dead grass. When it vibrates to a stop, I slide my gaze across the bed of the truck. Six silver cages sit in the back.

There is a loud rattle. It goes from being a patient knock on the door to a persistent banging heard by everyone. Doors open and slam shut, followed by the sound of a machine flaring to life.

A wheeled excavator starts to inch the cages toward the back of the truck. I assume there is something at the other end to catch the cages because all I see from where I’m standing is them falling off, one by one.

A flash of pale hair sweeps across the right side of my vision. I glance over. Juliet is marching toward us.

“Hello, everyone.” She stops when she is in hearing distance. “I take it you’re all ready for this evenings obstacle course?”

The words come out of her mouth, but I’m not paying any attention to them, or her. My eyes are sealed on the cages. They are being wheeled on carts into a staggered formation. A group of worn looking dudes are walking with them, a few carrying one end of a thick, silver chain. Wranglers.

Where there are Wranglers there are berserkers.

Squaring my shoulders, I try to play off the fact that I’m close to shitting bricks. As hard as I try to take my eyes away from those cages and the snarling monsters inside them, I can’t. One sprays a mist of green saliva onto its bars, looks over at us with bulging, yellow eyes, and half-howls, half-growls, choking the air with an unnatural sound.

The Wrangler sticks something long and black through the thick bars. Through the murmur of Tripp, Kiwi, and Juliet’s muted speech, a high buzz hits the air, and then there is a loud zap. The Berserker growls, backing away from the bars and batting the air. I gulp and turn my attention to one closer to me. Flakes of its skin drip to the cage floor with sickening plops.

“Jameson.” Juliet says, addressing one of the Wranglers. “Release them.”

Time slows.

My brain dumbly tries to wrap around what she just said.

The doors to the cages squeal open. A blur of movement streaks from its prison, zips forward, and spews green saliva right into my face.

Adrenaline floods my body. I don’t even think to wipe the green slime off my face. I barely hear Juliet yell, “Release them all in thirty…”

The world crawls around me. A blur races past the side of my vision. I glance over. Kiwi is zipping for the distant line of trees. Shaking myself, I take off after her, ducking down to grab my rifle on the way. Even though I almost knock Tripp over, who is frozen in place, I don’t slow down. I’m moving so fast I almost smash into the oak trees.

I shove my arms in front of me to stop the impact. Then, I climb. I can barely feel my body because I’m so focused on getting to the tree box above. I toss the rifle case over the side of the box, then flip in after it. With shaking hands, I rip open the case and start to assemble the collapsible stock.

There is a loud clink below, like the sound of chains ripping. I jerk toward the movement and don’t see anything. No, it’s not that I don’t see anything. It’s that movement is all I see. Blurs and wisps of movement.

I squint through the rushing monsters and see that Tripp is still there. What the hell is he doing? Tightening my jaw, I glance down and finish mounting the rifle onto the collapsible stock. Then I mount it on the side of the tree box.

Lowering myself as much as I can, I peer through the scope and turn on the emergency flashlight.

A howl cuts though my focus, a cry of agony like I’ve never heard before, and I freeze. Down on the ground, Tripp’s body snaps backward. There is loud, wet crack. He cries out again, the noise high and sharp.

My mouth drops open. A gush of wind passes over my face. My eyes narrow to keep it out, and I spot a berk closing in on Tripp, who is writhing around on the ground in a mess of groans and snaps.

There is loud crash from the tree across from me. I glance over.

“Over here, shit for brains!”

The gun goes off, and the sound of it is followed by a gust of wind. I rush to look back through the scope. Bulging eyes turn in Kiwi’s direction. Another loud pop, and its head explodes, spraying chunks of grey flesh across the yard.

Five monsters snap their bulging, gray necks toward us. I shake it off and look back through the scope, then turn the dial on my flashlight. Taking a breath, I pull the trigger. My aim is off. The bullet slices into the berk. Leaning back, I realign my sights, and press the trigger again.

The last shot makes it home, dropping the berk to the ground.

Tripp lets out another howl. The sound puts knots in my stomach. Lifting my head, I glance at the tree Kiwi’s in, trying to decide if I should get down there or not. A train of wails echoes through the night air. I wince because I’m sitting up in a tree while Tripp is on the ground crying in agony. I peer back through the scope.

My jaw drops.

Tripp’s clothes are ripping from his body. A body that is inching toward the sky while it contorts into unsightly bulges and impossible angles.

Another berserker goes down, only five feet or so away from him. Good looking out, Kiwi, because I’m useless. All I can do is stare as his boots rip off and his feet and stretch to the size of small islands. Another scream rips from his throat.

It soaks into the air.

His spine snaps in half, leaving the front half of his body to topple over his torso. My mouth gapes wider and wider. Then, his spine fuses back together, and his muscles vibrate, sending hunks of flesh everywhere.

My weapon thuds to the floor. After what seems like hours, Tripp’s body stills. He huffs and stomps his foot through the earth, and a tremor reaches me.

Then, his massive fist puts a crater-sized hole into the ground. His head rolls around on his neck, and huge black eyes stare into me. When he huffs again with nostrils big enough to drive a car through, my eyelids flutter, until he stops and I’m able to open my eyes again.

There is a blur of movement behind him. Tripp, still staring at me, reaches an arm out and raises something into the air. Leaning over the side of the tree box, I squint at the berk he has between his thumb and index finger. He pinches, then rubs his fingers together like someone trying to get excess crumbs off their hands.

Badass. I start to smile when something sparks to life. Sounds like an engine. I don’t think anything of it and go to pack my rifle back into its case when there is a low crash.

My eyes dart up and to the side. Kiwi is scrambling in the tree, trying to get down as fast as she can. She almost falls three times.

The fuck is she doing?

I wince when she slips and crashes to the ground on her side. With a moan, she rolls over, then pushes up to her feet. Then, she zips off in Tripp’s direction. I spot Juliet coming at Tripp from the back, some kind of pole held out to him. My lips turn down into a frown. That won’t do. I close my eyes and in my mind see her stop, and then lower her weapon. I fill her with the feeling that she has no intention of hurting Tripp.

As soon as I create the mental picture, Juliet ceases, then glances across the distance at me. I wave with a smile.

Kiwi stops at Tripp’s toes and flaps her arms up at him for several seconds before he finally looks down. I can’t make out what they say, but he reaches for her and she hops onto his palm like they do this shit every other Saturday.

He places her on his shoulder and they stomp around the house, shaking the branches of the tree I’m still standing in.

Minutes later, I stumble into the house and trudge up the stairs to my room. I really need to stop doing that. Thinking of this as my room. It’s theirs. Thinking about anything as being mine can get dangerous.