Free Arkadium Rising by Glen Krisch Page B

and at first, Jason wasn't sure where he'd been hit. But then a dark red dimple appeared in his temple and began to leak a steady flow of blood, and as he began to tumble over, the other member of the Arkadium strafed the brick wall five feet from Jason with a burst of gunfire. Jason fired again and missed. His third shot struck the guy in the shin and he fell over in a screaming, writhing mess.
    With adrenaline surging through his system, Jason checked the alley for any newcomers. No one was coming, but that would surely change with how that guy was screaming.
    He remembered the narrow alley shielded by the hedge. They could still get out of this. All they had to do was move.
    Jason ran to Dylan's side but he wasn't moving. "Dylan!"
    A halo of blood outlined the boy's head. Jason kneeled down in the filth and cradled the boy's head in his lap, but it was too late. His eyes were open and vacant, at peace.
    He began to sob over the corpse, tugging at his muddied undershirt as if trying to encourage him to move. He lost all sense of time as he cried. He mourned the loss of any semblance of sanity in the world, mourned his place within it moving forward.
    He didn't know how much time went by, but eventually he heard others enter the alley. He waited for them to approach him with their weapons raised, prayed for them to litter his body with bullets.
    Instead, a steady hand gripped his shoulder. "I've been looking all over for you! We need to get out of here, brother. We've cleared a path to the hills, but we have to act fast before they rally."
     

 
Chapter 7
     
    Two Days Earlier…
     
     
    Lost in her thoughts, Kylie Dwyer walked along the weedy edge of the road winding through the wooded hills surrounding Concord. She peeled her shirt from her clammy back, blew a wisp of blonde hair from her eyes. Her cell phone vibrated and she took it from the front pocket of her shorts.
    Mom: We need to talk .
    Great. What did that mean? We need to talk? Kylie's mom didn't go out of her way to talk to her. Why now?
    She read the brief message a third and fourth time, trying to divine a meaning between the pixels. Knowing that it's harder to get yelled at through texting, she considered replying, but realized some things are best dealt with in person. The phone went right back in her pocket. As she made her way up the hill, the calm stillness of the late morning was broken by an explosion so powerful that the ground beneath her trembled. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening, her arms flailing for a moment at her sides. But there was nothing to hold on to, nothing to help her balance.
    Earthquake?
    She quickly dismissed the idea. An earthquake in Illinois? Yeah, right.
    Her mind shifted to terrorism, but she dismissed that possibility just as quickly. Why would some far-flung people decide to attack her speck-on-the-map hometown? Even though she'd lived most of her life in the aftermath of 9/11, she'd always believed that sort of chaos would never touch her.
    And then, just as sudden as it began the rumbling beneath her calmed. She started to doubt the intensity of what she'd felt, but the surrounding trees erupted in a chorus of birdsong, as if the whole of the woods were exhaling in relief. So, if it wasn't terrorism or an earthquake, the only other explanation she could think of was some kind of industrial accident. Whatever the case, she would have to ask RJ about it.
    She started walking again, determined to get home as soon as possible. As long as the earth didn't start to tremble again, and as long as she didn't hear any more explosions, it was fairly easy to ignore the incident. Her thoughts turned to the Underwoods. She sometimes wondered if it was worth the hassle to babysit for them. Sure, little Libby—with her tight ginger curls and big blue eyes—was just about the cutest baby ever, but the mile-long walk in the summertime heat was a real pain. It helped knowing that she was so close to having enough money saved for