The Kill Order (30 page)

A woman eating a cat. A man chewing on a rug in the corner of his living room. Two kids throwing rocks at each other as hard as they could, bloodied and bruised from head to toe. Laughing all the while. People standing still in their yards, staring at the sky. Others lying facedown in the dirt, talking to themselves. Mark saw a man bull-rushing a tree, slamming himself into the trunk over and over, as if he thought eventually he’d win some battle and knock the thing down.

But on they went, quickly searching each and every home as they got closer to what Alec had called the party. The strangest thing, though, was that so far no one had attacked them. Most people actually seemed scared to death of them.

They were approaching their next house when a scream suddenly tore through the air, somehow louder than all the other sounds combined. It was piercing and raw, ripping its way along the street like a living thing.

Alec pulled up short, as did Mark, and they both looked in the direction of the noise.

About five houses down, two men were dragging a woman with black hair by her feet through the front door. Her head smacked the concrete of each step as they descended to the yard.

“Holy Mother of …,” Alec whispered. “It’s Lana.”

Alec didn’t wait for Mark’s response.

He burst into an all-out sprint, booking into the street, his feet pounding the pavement as he headed for Lana and the strangers now dragging her across the rock-filled yard of the house. He’d reacted so quickly that Mark was far behind. He tried his best to catch up, his backpack bouncing against his shoulders and his weapon threatening to slip out of his sweaty hands.

Alec was screaming at the men to stop what they were doing. He held up his Transvice, but the thugs didn’t understand the threat, or didn’t care. They continued pulling Lana across the yard until they reached the sidewalk, where they threw her legs down violently. She’d ceased her screaming and Mark wondered if she was still conscious. Still alive.

Alec stopped a dozen feet from where Lana lay unmoving. He was aiming his weapon, yelling at them all to freeze, when Mark caught up to him. It took him a moment to catch his breath before he could aim his own Transvice.

There were three men total, and they stood in a circle around Lana’s body, all of them looking down at her. They seemed completely oblivious that people had weapons aimed at them.

“Step away from her!” Alec shouted.

Now that they were closer, Mark finally got a good look at their friend. It made his stomach turn. She was battered and bloody and covered in bruises. Much of her hair had been ripped out, and her bloody
scalp shown through where it was missing. The last thing Mark noticed was that one of her ears looked like someone had tried to tear it off. The horror of it struck Mark like an anvil to his chest, and the rage he’d grown all too familiar with came boiling back up. These people were monsters, and if they’d done the same things to Trina …

He stepped toward them, but Alec reached a hand out and stopped him.

“Just a second,” he said, then returned his attention to Lana’s captors. “I’m not going to repeat myself. Step away from her or I start shooting.”

But instead of responding, the three men knelt to the ground, their knees touching Lana’s body as they surrounded her. Frantically, she looked back and forth between them.

“Just do it,” Mark said. “What’re you waiting for?”

“I don’t have a clear shot!” Alec barked back. “I don’t want to vaporize her!”

Alec’s words just made Mark angrier. He wasn’t going to stand there and do nothing for one more second.

“I’ve had enough of this crap,” he muttered, and started walking forward, slapping away Alec’s hand when he tried once again to stop him.

The men didn’t so much as glance at him as he approached. They were all digging deep in their pockets for something, their bodies turned in a way that blocked most of Mark’s view.

“Hey!” he shouted, his weapon held out before him. “Get away from her or I’m going to shoot. You won’t know what hit you, believe me!”

They didn’t hear him, or pretended not to. The next thing that happened was so quick and shocking that it made him stumble, almost fall down. In a blur of motion, one of the men pulled out a switchblade and stabbed Lana. Her screams sent a jolt of horror thudding through Mark’s bones. Then he was rushing forward, slinging his weapon to his back,
diving. He leaped and tackled the man closest to him, sending them both rolling away from Lana.

He heard Alec yelling his name, but somehow he ignored it. His only thought was that he had to disarm this guy quickly enough that he could stop the others. At least get them far enough away from Lana that Alec could take care of them. The man he’d tackled was strong, but Mark had taken him by surprise and was able to pin him to the ground with his knees and snatch the switchblade out of his hands. Without thinking, he stabbed him in the chest and ended it.

Mark fell off, crashing onto his back and scrambling away. Staring in horror at what he’d just done. But just as quickly, the world around him came back into focus and he jumped to his feet. Alec ran up and swung the butt of his weapon down with both arms, slamming its end into one of the attackers’ heads. He crumpled and slumped to the ground.

There was a group of people charging in from the other side of the street. Mark had no idea where they’d come from, but there were at least seven or eight of them. All men. All with knives or hammers or screwdrivers, their faces lit up in rage.

“Watch out!” Mark yelled to Alec.

But the men weren’t interested in them. Instead they all went after Lana, who was still being attacked by the lone man left of the three who’d originally dragged her outside. Alec took a few stumbling steps backward and Mark ran to stand beside him. As they watched, Mark realized that they were powerless to stop the madness unless they started using the Transvices. He was filled with a sudden doomed uncertainty.

Alec seemed to suddenly harden, a visible change that spread through his body. His face went still, hard as a rock. He straightened and stood tall. Then, without a word to Mark, he lifted his weapon and aimed it at the group of people attacking Lana.

He fired a shot. The quick stream of pure white bolted forward and
hit the closest man, who’d just been pulling his arm back, a bloodied hammer gripped in his hand. He transformed quickly into that shimmering flag of gray, then exploded into a cloud of mist, whisked away by an unfelt wind. Alec was already firing another burst at the man next to him. Mark knew they couldn’t win this battle, though Lana had been brave and true and strong since the day they’d met back in the tunnels of the subtrans.

Mark lifted up his own weapon and started firing. He and Alec picked off the attackers one by one: Pull the trigger. On to the next.

Soon the monsters were gone and only the pitiful, wretched form of their friend lay on the ground. Alec didn’t hesitate for a moment. He aimed and shot one more burst from his Transvice.

Lana’s suffering ended in a spray of gray mist.

Mark’s eyes drifted up from the bloody patch on the ground and fixed on Alec. The man had a look on his face that said a thousand things. But laced through it all was a profound sadness. Though Mark never fully understood what kind of relationship the two veterans had shared, it had been deep and full of history.

And now she was gone.

Alec’s expression cleared in a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime to Mark. He’d never seen his friend so sad before.

Suddenly Alec was all business again. He pointed at the house in front of them. “That’s where they dragged her out. And that’s where we’re going in. I’m sure Trina and the kid are in there right now.”

Mark turned to look. A mansion by any account, three stories and all gables and massive windows—many of them broken now—and fancy brickwork. But with a scorched roof and filthy walls and a weed-choked, yellow lawn, it looked ancient. Mark was terrified at what they might find inside it.

And people were gathering around them.

Less than a minute had passed since they’d vaporized their friend and the violent thugs attacking her, but the crowd milling about in the yard and street seemed to have doubled in size. Men and women, children. Most of them marked with bruises and scratches, some with worse. A man with a huge section of his shoulder missing was slowly ambling toward them; it looked like someone had taken an axe to him in a fit of rage. There was a woman with an entire arm gone, the joint a bloody
mess. Most disturbing of all, there were a couple of kids with brutal injuries, and they didn’t even seem to know they were hurt.

Without fail, the people started to inch closer, surrounding Mark and Alec. Tattered and grimy clothes, dirty hair, hollow gazes—the crowd’s attention was entirely fixed on the two newcomers.

Alec started walking slowly toward the front door of the large house. Mark mimicked his wary movements, as if any sudden action would trigger the budding insanity in those who watched their every step. They inched closer, weapons held firm. Mark wasn’t taking even the slightest chance anymore. If someone came at him, they were getting shot.

The crowd pulled in tighter around Mark and Alec, gathering like spectators at a parade. There had to be dozens of them now, maybe over a hundred. Then several men broke from the larger group and cut off the path to the front door. As soon as they did it, others followed suit, completely surrounding Mark and Alec now, a tightening noose.

“I don’t know if you people can understand me,” Alec bellowed. “But this is a one-time offer. Get out of our way or we start shooting.”

“We’ve got friends in this house,” Mark added. “And we’re not leaving without them.” He raised his Transvice just for show.

The looks on the faces all around him were changing. That blank indifference was clearing. Eyes were narrowing, foreheads furrowing, lips curling up in slight snarls. A couple of women actually hissed at them, and a kid gnashed his teeth like some wild animal.

“Get out of our way!” Alec yelled.

The crowd surged in a few inches, pressing closer, tightening their circle. Mark felt that familiar break inside of him again, as if he was losing control. A rush of something like hatred burned through him.

“Forget this,” he muttered.

He aimed his Transvice at the closest man between him and the front door and pulled the trigger. A blinding stream of white light shot
from the weapon and into the man’s chest, quickly turning him into a wall of gray, then an explosion of particles that disappeared. Mark didn’t hesitate. He immediately aimed at the next man, pulled the trigger, watched him turn to vapor. Next to him was a woman. Three seconds later she was no longer there.

He’d half expected Alec to stop him. But the former soldier wasted no time. The woman had barely disassembled when Alec was firing away as well. They concentrated on clearing a path to the house, slowly sweeping their weapons back and forth as they picked the people off one by one. Flashes of light filled the air as their Transvices heated up, unleashing a wave of destruction. All without a single drop of blood.

They’d eliminated about a dozen people, cutting through half the crowd standing in front of them, when the rest of the infected seemed to finally catch on to what was happening. A violent scream filled the air, a piercing, horrible sound, and suddenly every last person there was charging forward, rushing at the two men with their death-dealing weapons.

Mark moved his weapon left to right, pulling the trigger in short bursts, not even bothering to aim. Streaks of white connected with a few women. One stray shot hit a small boy, vaporized him. Still they barreled toward him at full speed. Mark turned to face the people behind him. He fired again, then gripped the Transvice and swung it up to smash its butt end into a man’s face, sending him sprawling, shrieking in pain.

Mark stumbled backward but caught his balance. There were people all around him, hissing, baring their teeth, dancing about on their feet, all wild eyes and hysterical laughter. Mark held the Transvice tightly against his chest again and fired randomly, turning in a slow circle as he vaporized whoever was closest. Then he swept the weapon back the other way, all the while careful of where Alec stood.

The next few moments were complete madness. Mark felt a hitch
of panic. He kept firing, swinging left, then right. He elbowed and shoved and broke through and fired and started all over again, pushing his way ever closer to the house. He killed at least ten more people before he was suddenly tripping over the steps of the porch.

He fell, twisted the Transvice around and fired it directly into the chest of a man who’d leaped into the air toward him. The gray mist washed over Mark’s face and disappeared. He spotted Alec a few feet away, jamming the end of his weapon into a woman’s face; Alec then broke into a run, jumping onto the steps and passing Mark, heading for the door.

Mark got off one more shot before he began to crawl backward up the stairs. At the top he got to his feet and reached the door just as Alec was stepping through. He ran past Alec into the house and his friend slammed the door. Alec had barely tripped the lock before the thump of bodies hitting it sounded from the other side. Mark doubted it would hold for long.

Then they were running. Down a hallway, a right turn, another hallway. Two people came at them—they’d been guarding a door. Alec got both of them with shots from his Transvice. Mark slipped past him, opened the door—there were steps. A man was at the bottom, pounding his way up, his eyes all fire set in a dirty, scratched face. Mark vaporized him.

Down the stairway, two at a time. A man and a woman rushed at him with knives, swinging at him before he could bring his weapon up. He smacked them both away and dove toward the floor just as Alec appeared and shot his weapon twice. And then everything grew quiet except for the distant sounds of the people outside, who’d be coming for them soon.

They were in a basement. A stream of sunlight shone through a narrow window at the top of the wall to Mark’s right. Dust motes danced
in the air. And two people were huddled in the corner of the room, looking as frightened as anyone Mark had ever seen.