Ballistic: Icarus Series, Book Two Read Free Page B

sheets of plywood, and musty old drop cloths. The heat had been torturous and the splinters many, so none of us were in the mood to hear the girl’s complaints. Least of all, Jake.
    “For once in your life, Christa, would you just stow it?” Jake growled at her. “No one wants to come to your pity party, alright?”
    “This sucks,” she grunted, scowling at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. “And you know what else, Jake? You suck. How about that?”
    “Okay, I am seriously sick of—.” Jake stepped forward his jaw clenched tight. Ty flinched in their direction.
    “We should probably see about finding some more food and water.” Riley cut him off and stepped in between them.
    “Good thinking, Ry,” I said, nodding toward the coffee shop just inside the main doors. “Grab what you can carry, and meet us back here in five minutes.”
    I stared at the small “you are here” kiosk in the main lobby of the small shopping center absently picking at the bandages on my arm. Eli had done a decent job of cleaning and dressing the wounds on my arm and leg. My injuries didn’t even hurt anymore really, but the tingling that I felt beneath the gauze was more than a little annoying.
    “I think I will go ahead and take a peek around if y’all don’t mind,” Ty said as he dropped his pack onto the floor by my feet. “I’m gonna see if I can’t find the door to the basement.”
    “I’ll come, too,” Christa volunteered, shuffling to his side.
    “The hell you will,” Jake said, grabbing her arm.
    “Bite me, Jake. You can’t tell me what to—.” Christa pulled away from him.
    “Uh-uh, your brother’s got it right, sweets .” Ty tapped Christa’s chin gently with his thumb and gave Jake the slightest of nods. “And don’t go givin’ me those puppy dog eyes, neither. I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt trailin’ along after me.”
    “Ugh, fine ,” she pouted climbing onto the chipped laminate counter top at the small diner just inside the main entrance; Conovor’s Coffees and Chocolate, according to the hand-painted sign. Christa crossed her arms over her chest and scrunched up her nose. “This place totally reeks, by the way. I can’t believe you dragged me here.”
    “We need to find the museum,” I said turning my back on her petulant display.
    “Over here, y’all,” Ty said from the middle of the lobby. “They have one of them map things.”
    Without an audience, Christa immediately grew tired of her own performance. She turned her energies to twisting her long hair into an elaborate braid while she banged her heels against the plexiglass case below. The transparent shelves beneath her were full of chocolate treats that had long-since melted into a sickening sludge. Each time she kicked the front pane, more of the sugary mud splattered across the slick surface inside, reminding me of the many abandoned cars we had seen along the way and the blackness that painted their interiors.
    All of those people…gone.
    Ty pressed in close to the map on the kiosk tracing a path with his fingertip and muttering softly to himself. Jake stood with his arms crossed over his chest, scowling at Ty’s back as if the cowboy had just run over a puppy and laughed about it. I narrowed my eyes at Jake, not understanding his animosity. He was too busy trying to hate the guy to notice.
    “Alright,” Ty said, turning back to us. “Looks like the museum is down there, just past the ceramics place. I’m gonna head that direction and see what’s what.”
    “Hold up, man.” Zander pulled a small handgun from his belt and held it out to Ty. “You know how to use one of these?”
    “You’re jokin’ right?” Ty smirked shaking his head as he carefully palmed the grip. He pointed the gun at the floor and popped the clip, catching it effortlessly in his other hand. His cowboy hat tilted to the side as he inspected the mag, then slid it back in and pulled the slide back. The whole process took