Toys - James Patterson [36]
I dropped my rifle and leaped up sideways into a tree crotch. The shooter spun frantically back and forth, trying to spot me again. I dove at him with both hands outstretched. His spine popped as I wrenched his head clear around. It was quite possibly the worst sound I’d ever heard.
I told myself I had no choice. These Elites are here to slaughter us. I have no allegiance to them. It’s kill—or be killed.
Chapter 49
I HELPED MYSELF to the dead man’s weapon and ran straight toward the main cadre of attackers, who were blitzing my parents’ house with relentless fire. Hard to comprehend—the place where you grew up under a murderous attack like this.
They were swarming inside, overrunning the place, as I came up behind them. Unfortunately, I didn’t see my mother or father anywhere. Or Lucy either. The fighting was hand to hand now. Finally, I caught a glimpse of Mom swinging an old cast-iron skillet, braining one of them. She was fighting side by side with her faithful clone.
Then the unthinkable happened. A tremendous fireball erupted into the sky. It fell and struck the roof of our house. Next came an explosion of flaming timbers and furnishings, the flailing limbs of Elite soldiers, their horrifying cries.
Their comrades had fired a rocket into the heart of the battle, sacrificing their own without a second thought. That was how Elites fought.
I stared in horror and disbelief as the burning debris rained down around me.
“Mom! Dad!” I yelled. “Where are you?”
It didn’t take me long to find them—two charred corpses, their hands extending toward each other as if they’d been reaching out to touch one last time.
How could anyone kill these good people? Massacre them? Who would do such a cowardly thing? But I knew the answer to that: Elites had already annihilated hundreds of millions of humans. What were a few more?
Standing there with my heart breaking, I whispered, “I love you, Dad. I love you, Mom.” I hated myself for not saying it more when they were alive. “You will have your revenge. I promise that—at least that.”
My God, I had just seen both my parents—dead. I couldn’t make myself think straight, could barely capture a breath.
Numb with shock—ready to die now myself—I swung around to fight the rest of the Elites. I could see them creeping out of the woods.
Suddenly, I hated them, hated all Elites—but especially their leader, whoever had planned this cowardly attack.
Then I saw who it was. On the crest of a nearby hill, Jax Moore was walking toward what remained of our house. He was dressed as a commando, gun in hand, smoking one of his victory cigars.
I had lost my concentration. A flying body slammed into me and threw me to the ground, gripping me in an iron-tight headlock. I hadn’t seen him coming.
“Don’t fight me!” Lucy whispered into my ear.
Chapter 50
“JAX MOORE!” I told her. “He’s behind this.”
“Doesn’t matter. Not now. This isn’t the time or place, Hays. Come with me!” Lucy took off then—fast. “Hays, come!”
“Where have you been?” I called, racing behind Lucy as she headed toward the bay. Maybe she could run faster than me? Or was it because my legs felt like nothing right now? I could hardly breathe, and I couldn’t get the image of my murdered parents out of my mind. The tragedy, the outrage. And Jax Moore, that bastard!
“Killing the commandos—where do you think I’ve been? I just couldn’t kill enough. I finished off that rocket crew—they were about to fire again and take you out. I’m sorry we couldn’t save your mother and father. Or stop to kill that fucker Moore!”
Yes, so was I—and on top of everything else, now I owed Lucy my life!
She must have had some kind of signaling device because, as we got close to the water, the gleaming black shape of a car came rising up out of a well-hidden underground chamber. It was the same style as