Toys

Chapter 48

I rushed upstairs and saw that my mother and father, still in their nightclothes, had already taken up defensive positions at the windows on the main floor. The clones were there too. They all had laser rifles, and Dad tossed me one as I ran into the living room.

“We’ll hold them off from here, Hays. You get outside. Try to get behind them,” he said. “No mercy. They won’t show any to us.”

“I know,” I said. “They hate us skunks.” I know exactly what they’re thinking. Because I used to think that way myself.

My father looked fierce, magnificent, like an old warrior who relished a battle against impossible odds. My mother, too, was calm and fearless; she’d never been more beautiful or impressive than she was right then.

“Where’s Lucy?” I asked them.

My mother just shook her head. “She’s probably escaped already, Hays. Lucy can’t be captured here. She’s too important.”

I hugged them both quickly, then raced out the back of the house and across the lawn. On the way, my enhanced night vision picked out a dozen of the approaching black-clad figures.

Killers-assassins! They mean to exterminate my family. And me.

These were highly trained Elite soldiers, and they spotted me too. Blasts of weapon fire lit my path as I ran for the cover of trees.

Weaving side to side, keeping low to the ground, I barely made it to the shelter of the woods. The terrain there was imprinted in my childhood memory. I knew every tree to hide behind as I prepared my ambush. But there were so many of them, against so few of us. Lucy would have helped-but she was too important to be captured.

Three commandos had spotted me and were now moving quickly in my direction. Their mistake-or arrogance. A single horizontal sweep with my rifle cut the trio into lumps of smoking flesh.

I sprinted past the ruined bodies, dodging from tree to tree, picking off a few more Elite soldiers as they appeared. I sensed rapid movement behind me. I barely had time to drop to a crouch as a laser streak flashed past my face, so close it singed my cheek.

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.