Darker Days (The Darker Agency #1)(25)
Chapter Eleven
“That didn’t sound good…” I said, looking past the open field and beyond the tracks. A second boom came, this one accompanied by an angry looking plume of gray smoke and a series of smaller bangs. With a quick glance toward the house, I turned on my heel and took off toward the chaos without a second thought.
Footsteps pounded against the ground behind me. Lukas. I don’t know why I was surprised he’d followed—but I was. Surprised, and something else. Glad? Grr. Why would I be glad? Obviously something in my brain had short circuited—spending more time with him wasn’t going to make it any better.
Another boom, this one even louder than the first. There was a slight shake to the ground and in the distance, someone screamed. I picked up the pace.
I crashed through the brush at the edge of the field and hit the pavement of the lot behind Al’s Antiques. The ground was wet and my sneakers slipped, momentarily disturbing my momentum, but I righted myself and kept going. Another boom. Louder. We were getting closer.
Rounding the corner of the building, I came to the sidewalk and pulled up short. Lukas plowed into me from behind, sending us both lurching forward into the street, but it didn’t matter. There was no traffic to worry about. Why? Because people were all on foot. Everywhere.
Flankman’s Department store had opened in Penance over a hundred years. They’d started out selling food and simple supplies, then in more recent years branched out to become a kind of sell-all store. TVs, clothing, groceries—Flankman’s had a little of it all. Family-owned, like most things in town, it was almost a landmark.
Well, had been like a landmark.
The glass storefront was shattered, only a small portion—the top part of the F and bottom half of L—remained. Smoke billowed from the top floor where the founder, Martin Flankman’s, original apartment had been. The entire right side of the roof was in flames and the fire was creeping across.
Another boom spilt the air. Just behind the building, shooting over the roof, a cascade of red and blue streaked across the sky. Fireworks. Someone had found Pete Flankman’s secret stash.
I was so busy staring into the sky, that I wasn’t paying enough attention to my surroundings. I backed into something solid—a man balancing two twelve packs of beer in his arms. George White.
“Watch it, bitch,” he snapped, taking a step back. He hugged the cases close like they were precious, eyes darting back and forth to keep watch for any harm that might come to them.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say. George was cranky on his best days, but I’d never seen him downright rude.
People were running around like quartzed demons. Cursing, screaming, and the occasional shoving match everywhere you looked. It was insanity squared…then I took a closer look through the broken storefront. People were inside, frantically filling their pockets and arms with as much as they could carry.
“Oh my God—you guys are looting Flankman’s?” I whirled on George—who was still standing there glaring at me. “Pete Flankman is your friend, George! What the hell?”
“Are you eyeballing my beer, kid?” Eyes narrowing, he set one of the twelve packs down and took a step forward. “You thinkin’ of taking it from me?”
My mouth fell open. “Have you gone bonkers?”
George snarled and leapt forward, swinging the remaining twelve pack at my head like a baseball bat. I moved to get out of the way, but the corner of my shoe clipped the curb and everything started tilting upward. Something strong wrapped around my waist and suddenly I was flying backward just as George slammed the case of beer down where I’d been. An explosion of glass and amber-colored liquid erupted from the wrecked cardboard box and oozed out onto the concrete. With a growl, George left the smashed case, retrieved the other, and lumbered off toward the street without another word.
“Hell in a hailstorm…” I huffed.
“It’s Greed,” Lukas whispered, warm breath tickling the side of my face. Inopportune moment aside, I realized something right then—I liked the sound of his voice. Odd time for a revelation. Still, it just…hit me. He had a really nice voice. Warm and deep. It reminded me of hot cocoa—and there was nothing nicer than hot cocoa.
For a moment, I didn’t move. I was tilted back, arm raised at a slightly odd angle and leaning against him. He’d caught me before I hit the ground and dragged me away from the curb. I was pretty sure his intention hadn’t been to whisper in my ear, but it gave me warm tingles regardless.
Kendra would have a blast-o-million if she could see this.
“Do you see him?” I managed to pull myself away and move aside as a tall woman missing one shoe came blasting from the store. She had an armful of clothing and a Twix bar dangling from her teeth and was giggling like a loon.
“I don’t think Greed’s here anymore,” Lukas said, taking a step toward the burning building. “I don’t feel him.”
Sirens wailed as two fire trucks came speeding up the road. A whole slew of new people. “Oh, craps. Will they be affected? Like if they go in?” Then it hit me. “Even bigger craps—will we be affected?”
Lukas shook his head. “Anyone arriving after the initial infection has a very slim chance of being affected. If someone particularly susceptible were to happen along, then yes. Otherwise, it’s safe.”