Killshot (Icarus Series Book 1)

 

 

 

 

Killshot
               

(Icarus Series, Book One)

By Aria Michaels

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright
2014 Aria Michaels

Copyright

 

This book is an original publication of Aria Michaels.
Killshot
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or have been adapted fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, alive or dead, as well as businesses, locations, groups, or organizations is purely coincidental. The publisher and author do not accept responsibility for any third-party website, social media personality or groups, or their content.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright
2014 Aria Michaels

Edited by Claire Allmendinger of BNW Author Services

Cover Design: Kari Ayasha, Cover to Cover Designs

 

Rights

 

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without expressed written consent of the author and/or publisher. Please do not participate in or encourage the piracy of copyrighted materials. It is not only a violation of the author’s rights, but of copyright law. Purchase only authorized editions.

 

Printed proudly in the United States of America

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Prologue

Before the Sky Fell

Chapter 2

Calm Before the Storm

Chapter 3

Three’s Company

Chapter 4

The Writing on the Wall

Chapter 5

Sidetracked in the Sun

Chapter 6

A Moment of Peace

Chapter 7

Trapped

Chapter 8

Prozac and Pocketknives

Chapter 9

Uncommon Commonality

Chapter 10

First Do No Harm

Chapter 11

Homeland Insecurity

Chapter 12

The Loop

Chapter 13

Battle Lines

Chapter 14

Lights Out

Chapter 15

Plans

Chapter 16

Turning Pages

Chapter 17

Twinkies and Tanks

Chapter 18

Balance and Burns

Chapter 19

Mission Impossible

Chapter 20

Man Down!

Chapter 21

Battered, but not Broken

Chapter 22

Roll Out

Chapter 23

Out of the Frying Pan

Chapter 24

Senses

Chapter 25

Kindred Spirits

Chapter 26

Coincidence and Connection

Chapter 27

Moving On

Chapter 28

With a Bang

Chapter 29

Picket Fences

Chapter 30

Patients and Patience

Chapter 31

Haven

Chapter 32

…Here’s Johnnie!

Chapter 33

Leader of the Pack

Chapter 34

Antiques and Engines

Chapter 35

Small Victories

Chapter 36

Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 37

Recon and Redemption

Chapter 38

Tactical Invasion

Chapter 39

Search and Rescue

Chapter 40

Burning Questions

Chapter 41

Rendezvous and Rally

Chapter 42

Ghosts

Chapter 43

Maps and Missions

 

Acknowledgments

 

 

 

Dedication

 

For my husband, Mark…

You gave me the courage to chase my dreams,

and the strength I needed to catch them.

I love you, times infinite!

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Prologue

Before the Sky Fell

               

               

               

               

               “Take it, Beans,” I pleaded.

              My little brother stared defiantly down at the floor, refusing to accept his inhaler. I held it out to him again. He stubbornly pushed it away and crossed his arms over his chest. It killed me watching him suffer like this, tears rolling down his little cheeks as he struggled to breathe. A stray lock of wavy blond hair was plastered to his cheek.

              I knew my little brother was angry; that he was scared and confused. I felt the same way, though I had not allowed myself the luxury of breaking down yet. Beans needed me, and I needed to be strong for him, especially now.

              “Lucas Eric Larson,” I yelled, grabbing him by his tiny shoulders.

              He froze, his arms dropping limply to his sides as his eyes finally met mine. I knew that would get his attention. It had been five years since Beans had earned his nickname, and since then, I had used the name he had been born with only a handful of times. His bright green eyes stared up at me, glistening with unshed tears as his chest, rose and fell, rapidly.

              “Take it,” I repeated, holding the inhaler on my palm and blinking back tears. “
Please,
Beans
.

              He nodded slightly, and grabbed it from my shaking hand, his experienced little fingers curling expertly around the apparatus. He shook it vigorously, flipped the cap off, and took two slow pulls from the mouth-piece. His chest shook from the effort, but each breath that followed became easier, less raspy. I held his shoulders, breathing in rhythm with him as the heaving in his chest began to slow. After a couple minutes, his breathing was almost back to normal.

              “Liv,” he whispered, his small hand trembling in mine. “Livie, I’m scared.”

              “I know, buddy,” I said, smoothing his hair away from his sweat-drenched face. “Me too.”

              “Liv?” He looked up at me, tears still running down his face.

              “Yeah, Beans,” I said.

              “Are they in heaven,” he asked. “Are mom and dad angels now?”

              “Of course,” I said, but the words tasted sour in my mouth.

              “Good,” he said, wiping his nose onto the sleeve of his coat. “That means they will be watching out for us now.”

              I pulled him against me and buried my face in his tangled locks, trying desperately to keep my tears at bay. After all that we had been through, I couldn’t bring myself to admit to him that I no longer believed.

“Everything is going to be okay, Beansie,” I lied, rustling my little brother’s messy hair. “You’ll see.”

              “I know,” he sniffled, squaring his shoulders. Then his eyes lit up. “Oh! I have an idea.”

              He sprinted down the hallway to where his backpack lay up against the wall by Mr. Trundle’s office, then slid across the floor on his knees, and started digging through it. I followed after him, stopping a few feet from where our case-worker stood; his chubby arms crossed over his round belly. Mr. Trundle was the poster-child for cubical dwelling yes-men—from his worn out orthotics to his clip-on tie, and shoddy comb over.

              “Everything okay, Miss Larson,” he asked in that high-pitched voice of his, taking a step back. He knew I was angry with him for separating us.

              “Fan-freaking-tastic, thanks,” I growled at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

              “Olivia,” he warned, his eyes shooting over to my brother.

              “
Do not
call me Olivia,” I spat, narrowing my eyes at him.

              “I’m sorry, Miss Larson. I truly am. I know this has been very hard for you both, but you must believe me when I tell you that this is for the best,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “The Fosters have extensive experience caring for children with—
special needs
, I suppose you could say. As for the Tates, well, they are an amazing family, Liv, and we were lucky to get you placed there on such short notice.”

              “So you keep telling me,” I said, bitterly. “Too bad I’m not broken enough for your precious
Fosters
or my brother and I might actually get to stay together, huh?”

              “I really am sorry,” he said, smoothing down his comb-over.

              Beans shot to his feet, just as I was readying another witty retort. He spun on his heel and stepped in front of me, a giant smile lighting up his tear-stained face. In his hands, he held his most prized possession, a ratty old stuffed lion. One of the doctors at the Children’s Hospital in Iowa City had given it to him as a gift after his first major attack. He had named it Courage, and from that day on he never left home or slept without it. Without pause, he shoved the lion into my hands and wrapped his arms around me.

              “Keep him safe for me, Livie,” Beans said into my chest.

              “Beans, no,” I said, trying to pry his arms away. “I can’t.”

              “Please, Livie,” he begged, the corners of his mouth shaking as the tears started back. “You have to. Courage will help you through this, I promise.”

              “I—okay, buddy,” I said, no longer able to hold back my tears. “But only for now, okay? The next time I see you, you have to take him back, deal?”

              “Deal,” he said, pulling away.

              He scooped his backpack onto his shoulder and grabbed Mr. Trundle’s thick hand. Together, the two of them turned, and started walking down the hallway. When Mr. Trundle stopped to grab the door knob, Beans turned and yelled over his shoulder, “See you soon, Liv!”

              “I promise I will come for you, Beans,” I yelled back, as he stepped through the door and into the sun. “Even if the sky is falling!”              

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