Sagan and Kyle tried to stop their Anatomy teacher from running out the door, but when beastly claws shattered the window at the back of the room, he bailed. The class followed his lead, and shortly after, their screams rose in a haggard chorus through North Hall.

And those claws…

Sagan recognized them from Korac’s sketchbook. She ran to find Rayne and Tameka, but Kyle grabbed her arm, saying, “Wait. There’s a reason for the pandemonium.”

“But Rayne…” Sagan didn’t need to finish her sentence looking into the concern in Kyle’s eyes. He got it. She said, “Okay. What should we do?”

Kyle flipped open a ten-centimeter blade. “We work our way to them, one-by-one.”

Sagan nodded, deciding to save the whole sketchbook conversation for later. “Got it.” She turned a desk over and wrenched off a metal leg, asking, “Where were you hiding that thing, anyway?”

“Don’t ask.”

It was enough to make Sagan smile, and she caught Kyle checking for her reaction. They shared a moment of solidarity, certain they would live through this day. The chair leg gave, and Sagan twirled it. “Let’s do this—”

Something erupted deeper in the school, and a cacophony of screams followed.

Kyle’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. Explosives.”

This day kept getting better and better. Sagan went to the door. “Come on. We need to get Rayne out of here before Nox finds her.”

Kyle’s frown deepened. “What makes you think he’s even here?”

“Earlier, Rayne said she saw ‘white hair.’ I think she meant Korac’s—I mean—the Silver General’s hair. And sure, maybe Nox would trust Rayne with his second-in-command, but something tells me he’ll want to confront her personally. He’ll enjoy her fear.” Sagan glanced around the door frame into the dark hallway and hurried back into the room. “There’s one guarding the foreign language hall.” She didn’t mention the lumps of shadow surrounding the guard to herself, not willing to acknowledge the body count just yet.

Even as Sagan thought it, the vibrating buzz of the flood lights accompanied their red glow. They illuminated the blanket of dead students in a harsh crimson glare like a nightmare.

Kyle pressed against the wall alongside Sagan, saying, “All right. We get to Nikki and John, find Tameka and Rayne, and go from there. If we get outside, there’s a chance we could survive until nightfall, except…”

Sagan clued into his train of thought. “Except how did they get in the building in the first place?! Shit. Well, one thing at a time. I’ll provide a diversion; you get to Nikki and John. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Being in charge suits you, by the way.” Kyle gave her a nod of approval.

Instead of hiding her blush, Sagan ran into the hallway.

The Icarus stopped gnawing on the throat of a student and dropped her lifeless body to the ground. His expression wasn’t murderous or hateful. It was devoid of emotion or understanding. So when he spoke in such a reasonable tone, it took Sagan aback. “The Afflicted One, your presence is demanded in the cafeteria.” He took a step toward her.

Sagan could guess who’d demanded her presence. Was that spike of adrenaline from fear or excitement? She’d analyze that later. Right now, she used the adrenaline to fuel her mad dash to the science hall.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

When the Icarean warrior pursued Sagan at a Michael Myers pace, he’d confirmed a theory for her: they wanted the Progeny alive. His slow pursuit afforded her a thirty-second advantage.

The chem lab welcomed Sagan with the smell of old textbooks and dry erase marker, the formula for decomposition half-written on the board. She ran to the back of the room, nudged the lab tables along the way, and hid behind one, hoping the Icarus would stalk past.

When he didn’t, it confirmed another theory for Sagan.

“We can smell your fear.”

Yikes.

After searching through the backpacks beside her for what she needed, Sagan stood and faced him, nudging the table closest to her. All the while she prayed he didn’t notice why.

He came closer with his hands loose in a non-threatening posture, but the glyphs written on his handsome face added to the intimidation of his broad figure. He held out a hand like a vampire in every horror movie Sagan had ever seen and said, “Come with me.”

She couldn’t help it. Sagan cupped a hand over her mouth and snickered. At his frown, she said, “Oh, sorry. I know you can’t help it, but that was so cheesy. Almost as bad as me saying, ‘You’re fired,’ or ‘Let me help you go out in a blaze of glory.’”

The frown deepened, marring his attractive face. It flickered with uncertainty as Sagan held up a lighter.

Yes, this was mayhem.

No, nothing would ever be the same after today.

Still, Sagan smirked as she lit the flame and tossed it into the center of the room into the cloud of gas leaked from the Bunsen burners after she’d disconnected their lines.

A hair-raising whoosh followed Sagan to the ground, and heat kissed her back as she curled into a ball, prepared for the worst.

Would Rayne forgive her prom date for burning off her hair and eyebrows in the apocalypse? Probably.

The Icarus shrieked in agony, and the odor of burnt flesh replaced the smell of knowledge in the classroom. Sagan crawled for the door, daring to glimpse for only a second at the figure ablaze in the room.

Some part of her heart ached. Why didn’t he stop, drop, and roll? Was he too encumbered by his repressed intelligence to know any better? Should she help him?

But, no.

No, this was war, and Sagan needed to remember he was eating a human being when she found him. She locked the door on her way out of the room.

Surely, Kyle had found Nikki and John by now—

Sagan rounded the corner to North Hall and almost walked smack into two more Icarean warriors.

They were all dressed in the same gear—loose black pants and cloaks. And these two had yellow eyes as well. One was dark-complected, with the branches of an alien tree painted on his face. The other was pale, though not as pale as Korac, with the bone structure of a Roman bust.

Unsure if she could take two on at once, Sagan offered, “Has anyone ever told you two you should consider a career in modeling?”

Without regard for her banter, the Roman said, “The General waits.”

Korac.

Sagan’s confused heart fluttered, but before she could say anything, the Icarus with the tree on his face shrieked as a metal rod pierced through his chest from the back.

The Roman snarled and choked on a blood-smattering growl with more rage than anguish. A piece of metal also impaled him, but below his diaphragm.

Kyle’s voice rang through North Hall. “John, you missed the brain!”

The tree warrior fell to the ground, revealing Nikki’s tiny frame, coated in cobalt arterial spray. Never underestimate a short blond with freckles.

“Look out!”

John collided with Sagan hard enough to rattle her teeth together, biting her tongue. “Fuck!”

Tangled in his limbs, Sagan struggled to pry them apart, asking, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just trying to remember how to breathe,” John croaked. Where he rubbed his neck, mottled palm prints would later form bruises.

“Nikki!” Kyle shouted.

Sagan got to her feet as the Icarus lifted the teeny young woman by the throat and threatened to break her neck. Sagan ran into the fray, clawing at his hands as she cried, “The rod! Shove it in his brain!”

Kyle’s tornado crescent kick landed and shifted the rod higher and deeper.

Further wrenching Sagan’s heart, the Icarus’ death throes screeched like an avian creature. Sagan would hear them in her dreams, reverberating off the wooden lockers in the dark.

The Icarean warrior succumbed to his wounds, fell to his knees, and curled further forward on his face. Dead.

John, panting from exertion, said, “We… did it.”

Kyle cradled Nikki in his arms on the floor, asking her, “Are you all right?”

She shook her head, unable to speak for the terrible constriction visible around her neck.

“Wow. You guys are awesome.”

The group looked toward the newcomers to find Rayne and Tameka were alive and safe, haloed by the red pool of floodlights.

Sagan closed her eyes on the verge of crying tears of gratitude.

The sassy redhead asked, “Are you ready to raid our stashes and stop this invasion?”

Kyle and Sagan answered, “Hell yes.”