Afterburn: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Next Book 1) by Scott Nicholson Page B

algorithms or matrices.”
    “They know dozens of languages,” DeVontay said bitterly. “They drained enough human brains to gather them.”
    “They’re already in Stonewall, but I can’t tell where.”
    “So, make a run for it or just wait it out?”
    “It depends on whether they know I’m here or not. But my guess is they’ve come for that dead Zap.”
    “They’re sending out scouts for a reason,” DeVontay said. “Maybe they’re expanding their territory.”
    “Why would they need to do that? They don’t reproduce and they don’t really need to harvest food, since they consume so little.”
    DeVontay gave her a cold grin. “Unless they learned to bring the dead back to life. Then they’ve got a lot of new mouths to feed.”
    In the year after the solar storms, the Zaps evolved through a stage where they collected dead with the intent of restoring them. Unless they had created some sort of storage system, they wouldn’t have much to work with besides skeletons and the occasional rotted corpse sealed in a closet or vehicle. Rachel didn’t want to picture an army of such creatures, wandering through the countryside conducting whatever mission the Zaps decreed.
    “We should get back to the bunker,” Rachel said. “For all we know, those explosions last night brought the Zaps out to see what’s going on. I don’t want to get caught in the middle of a war again.”
    “It might come to that, Rachel,” DeVontay said, lifting his head to scan the town through the truck windows. “And you’ll have to decide whose side you’re really on.”
    That’s unfair. I’ve already chosen you and the others. Isn’t four years long enough to prove my commitment?
    But part of her realized she had removed herself from choice. Aside from Kokona, she had no interaction with Zaps and stayed well away from any potential communication. Like faith, could loyalty really be considered true if it hadn’t been tested?
    “I’m with you,” Rachel said.
    “Then how come you saved that Zap last night?”
    Before she could answer, the voices entered her head again.
    “Do you hear that?” DeVontay said.
    And she realized the voices were audible. The Zaps emerged from a curve in the road, three of them. Like the dead one in the cottage, these wore silvery suits and had a uniform, sexless appearance. They didn’t seem to carry any weapons, and they moved almost casually, with a liquid smoothness. They headed directly for the cottage.
    “We’ll wait to see what they do,” DeVontay said. “Then we’ll make a run for it.”
    But they never found out whether the Zaps were in Stonewall to retrieve their fallen companion. Before they reached the cottage, one of them stopped and lifted its tonsured head as if smelling or hearing something. Rachel gripped DeVontay’s forearm, afraid they sensed her.
    Instead, there was a faint whirring in the air and one of the metallic birds swooped out of the forest and glided toward the outdoor outfitters’ shop.
    “How many of those things do they have?” DeVontay asked.
    Before Rachel could answer, a gunshot boomed in the quiet of the town. The Zaps broke into a fluid run in the direction of the shot.
    “Humans,” Rachel said, unconsciously bringing her own rifle into firing position and aiming around the hood of the truck.
    The metal bird hovered above the outfitters’ shop, cutting ever-tighter circles in the air as if homing in on a target. Its electronic eyes glinted bright green, the color of auroras. As the Zaps approached the shop, a side door flew open.
    A gaunt man with wild, flowing hair and bushy beard burst from the building. He carried a pistol that he alternately pointed at the bird and the Zaps, although he didn’t fire, as if he was conserving limited ammunition. A broad axe was attached to his belt, the blades clotted with dark blood.
    “I think we’ve found our killer,” DeVontay said. “And I’ll bet the Zaps know it.”
    “We can’t let them take him,”