Burning Embers Read online

  About Burning Ember

  The Hurriflame begins. A high school party in the middle of nowhere goes up with an explosion from the sky. For the survivors of that night, there are consequences that will mark the beginning of a war.

  A battle-worn Agent from above, taking the name of Suzi Chambers, unites with a world-weary teenager below, called Jenny Campbell. Both are outsiders from their own kinds, and seek to uncover the secret of this war that’s been physically hidden within Jenny’s head, all whilst fighting off the various factions one by one.

  Factions which mask the greatest monster of all.

  Both girls have seen a lot, suffered more, and the stakes are high. Whether they survive or not, one way or another, hell is here to claim them.

  Game on.

  Contents

  About Burning Ember

  Countdown Minus Five: Ignition

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Countdown Minus Four: Speed Demons

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Countdown Minus Three: Acceleration

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Countdown Minus Two: Collision

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Countdown Minus One: Crash and Burn

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  About Sam Silver

  Copyright

  Countdown Minus Five:

  Ignition

  Chapter One

  “This party’s about to heat up.”

  Those had been Maria Longsworth’s words just hours earlier. They returned to Jenny Campbell with a vengeance as she trudged angrily through the valley in the middle of nowhere. This party, in this remote location of nothing but forest, was meant to be the party to end all parties. Everyone from school was going, the self-proclaimed popularity queens of Carrington High had said over and over. This mother of an event was going to be massive, colossal, with a smorgasbord of guys to choose from, and it had shot Jenny’s hopes through the roof.

  It was the first real party she’d ever been invited to. She’d made out like she’d been to hundreds of them but in truth she was always trying to crack her way into one, just one.

  So she’d rocked up and found out, in actuality, that the party was much smaller than she’d expected. Maria had said there would be hundreds of people. Instead, there were about thirty kids from school at most, and aside from Maria Longsworth and her posse standing around and acting like high school royalty, everyone else was playing with their phones and not talking. This was the party of the century? Please!

  Even worse, Maria and the girls started having digs at Jenny. Little jibes here and there about Jenny being the nerd who’d recently scored big by coming top of the year in English Lit, but Jenny was anything but a nerd. An outsider? Yes. Persistent and hardworking? Definitely. A nerd? No way. She was too much of a fighter for that and if she had something to say then she’d sure as hell say it.

  Which was what happened. When Maria started getting extra smoochy with Mike Adams and then led him towards the door, Jenny snapped and stormed out of the party with the shallow laughter of Maria and her friends echoing behind her, making quips about her being a precious “Little Miss” who couldn’t take a simple joke. The real reason they were riling her, Jenny figured, was because Maria was bitter about being trumped by her back at school. Topping English Lit at such an exceptional level meant that Jenny would receive an award in a special ceremony that recognised the state’s highest achievers. The official term, slightly tongue in-cheek, was the Academia Awards. Unofficially around school, however, it was termed as the “Macadamias”, meaning that a bunch of try-hard nuts would simply be put on show to bare all. The fact that Jenny came from the East Side, and lived in a rented house with her father who worked his butt off to make ends meet didn’t raise her any higher in the popularity stakes either.

  Reality hit back when Jenny stepped out the door. Before her lay a long stretch of valley. She’d totally forgotten that it was Maria who’d driven her and some of the other girls to this hell of a place and now she had no idea where she was or how to get home. Even worse, her phone didn’t have a signal.

  When she heard the girls’ laughter from inside the house again she made up her mind to go somewhere, anywhere, just to get away from them, and so furiously charged off into the night, determined to find her way back to the main road and hitch a lift.

  “This party’s about to heat up.”

  Yeah right.

  “Party of the year my butt,” she muttered, trudging on. She stumbled over something. “Damn it!”

  She tapped her phone for the umpteenth time. Still no signal. She tried again, hoping in vain that it would magically activate.

  Nothing.

  She swore under her breath and trudged on, doing her best to follow Mother Nature’s path in the dark.

  Something caught her attention from up ahead. A car headlight? No. Too high for that. Much too high. A plane? No, the light was bright yellow and growing rapidly, and it highlighted a mass of ants who were scuttling over a tree trunk. Jenny had never seen ants that large and green before. Some were almost as big as her hand, and these frantically scuttling uglies were going crazier by the second, like they sensed something.

  She half-covered her eyes and stepped to the side to get a better view of the light above. It grew brighter, captivating her, and then her leg hit an upturned branch and she yelped and toppled over. The ground rushed to greet her, along with a small pool of God knew what, and then –

  Splat!

  She cringed and felt some sort of slime stick to her skin.

  “Damn Longsworth!” she seethed, blaming her high school nemesis for everything that she hated about this place, and pushed herself up.

  The yellow light grew even brighter, and was now accompanied by a piercing whine.

  She started to scramble away.

  Her hand caught hold of something soft and squishy.

  Something that resembled a small body.

  She looked down.

  The face of a toy clown stared back up at her.

  Its features were sharp and pointed, especially its ears and nose, and it grinned with blood-red lips from beneath the glare of the black circles around its eyes.

  She tried to pull her hand away but couldn’t. It was like a magnetic force was keeping it there. Her hand was frozen. Rooted to the spot.

  Psycho toy was freaking her out. It seemed alive. Filled with energy. This thing was wrong, totally wrong, in every way possible. It tingled in her touch as a charge from within it swept up her arm.

  The next thing she felt was a presence enter her mind.

  Her eyes rolled back and she fell to the side. The force that held her hand in place released her and, like a limp doll herself, she rolled down a small slope before coming to a splayed-out halt, her right cheek covered by mud.

  Then the party really started.

  ***

  The night split open.

  A massive explosion ripped through the valley, sending a cacophony of fire and debris billowing out in all directions. Trees were uprooted, falling heavily to one side as hysterical flocks of birds fled for the horizon. Crackling flames reached into the night like the smouldering fingers of hell.

  Through it all the face of the toy clown stared up amidst the chaos, its grinning red lips stained with ash, and its frills dancing in the se
aring wind.

  Above the crackles of the flames came some groans and raspy breaths, from someone who’d been caught up in the blaze. Painfully, they reached out for something, anything, to hold onto.

  Their blackened hand fell upon the clown.

  A sinister chuckle came from within it.

  They clutched the clown tightly.

  The dark laughter grew.

  ***

  “Whoa!”

  “What the hell was that?”

  “Did, like a plane just crash or somethin’?”

  “I’m getting out of here!”

  The partygoers watched the scene from the small building on the edge of the burning valley. Some stood on the balcony. Others were too scared to even venture outside. Thick clouds of smoke were sweeping up from the valley in their direction. Even though the flames were still way off, they were getting closer, crackling through the trees like they were matchsticks.

  Some murmurs rippled throughout the crowd. A few cries went up and several people ran for their cars. Others stood in shock, not knowing what to do.

  One girl, Johanna Seymour, broke away from everyone else and headed down the slope towards the valley.

  “Jo, what are you doing?” one of the boys called from the balcony.

  Johanna turned back to face him. “Sam and Sarah went for a walk. I’m gonna see if they’re okay.”

  “Have you got a death wish? Get back here!”

  “Not scared are you, Baz?”

  He shrugged. “They could be in the middle of something. Or coming to the end of it.”

  A snicker arose from his friends.

  “Well if they are at least they’re not standing around with a drink in their hand talking about it, hey Baz?”

  A louder laugh went up.

  “Come if you want,” Johanna said, “or else you can stand there and prove that you really are all talk and no action, for the second time tonight, according to Beth Chalmers anyway.”

  She turned and ran.

  Baz downed his drink, disgruntled. One of his friends cackled and was smacked back in return.

  “Shut up!” Baz snapped, and went inside.

  She ran on.

  ***

  “Something’s gone down, big time.”

  Sarah nodded and felt Sam’s hand clasp tightly around hers. The pair of them stood in shock, halfway down the valley slope. The fires of hell were heading in their direction at an all-consuming speed with some smaller blasts igniting within them, like tanks of petrol erupting.

  Sarah knew that even though her night walk may have gone to hell it would be peanuts compared to what others could be going through. No, she knew what she had to do, and it may well be the stupidest thing in her life, but right now she didn’t have a choice.

  She took a step forward, pulling Sam with her. “Someone may need our help.”

  He pulled her back.

  “No!” he said firmly. “Fire travels fast. Smoke even faster.”

  She whirled around to face him. “Sam, we can’t –”

  “We can’t do anything!”

  “Sam!”

  Bang!

  A powerful line of fire shot up high over the valley.

  ***

  A cry went up from the partygoers at the building.

  ***

  When the pillar of fire reached its peak, it arched over and pummelled downwards.

  Sarah cried out in horror.

  The fire was heading straight for them.

  Sam pulled her away. “Move!”

  Sarah had no choice but to run with him.

  The flames came down, her screams went up, and so did a large section of the valley.

  ***

  Further up the hill, Johanna fell backwards. High above, several more fiery pillars shot up into the night, arching out in all directions, carrying bits of machinery and debris with them.

  She hit the slope with a thump and groaned. Now painfully defeated in her search for Sam and Sarah, she pushed her dishevelled hair away from her eyes and stood up. There was nothing more she could do, only retreat. A black cloud of dismay welled up inside her. She hated having to back off from her search, but at least she’d made more of an effort to find the others than big-talking Baz back at the party.

  The smoke was suffocating. She covered her mouth with her shirt and stumbled up the hill in the direction she’d come from. She’d only gone a short way when something stopped her in her tracks.

  Something slimy had wrapped around her leg.

  She looked down.

  It was a plant of some kind. No, more like a tendril. A strong, thick tendril which held her tightly.

  She tugged her leg sharply and tried to pull herself free. She couldn’t.

  “What the hell?”

  Something slithered across the ground behind her. She barely noticed it before another tendril wrapped around her other leg with a slimy squelch. Another swept in, then another and another.

  A kind of crackle came from within them as two more wrapped around her arms. Another clasped her neck, pulling her to the ground.

  “Oh god! Oh shi –!”

  A crunch followed.

  Silence.

  ***

  Emergency personnel in a chopper saw the blaze first. They also saw the kids from the party fleeing to their cars and tearing down the highway as fast as they could.

  Soon after, several firetrucks and ambulances surrounded the small building. In one of the firetrucks sat a firefighter known as Tank Jordan, so called because he was built like a tank. He emerged grimly from his truck and observed the scene.

  Clearly these kids hadn’t started the fire. Many had run. Others had stayed behind to help their friends who were suffering from smoke inhalation. The surrounding area was already being scouted for other survivors who may have ventured away from the building. Luckily, some had been found.

  Tank approached a small group of ambulance workers who were carrying two stretchers between them.

  “What have we got?” he called.

  One of them spoke, “A couple of kids. Names are Sam and Sarah, going by their IDs.”

  “They alive?”

  “Yeah. They’ll make it. The girl got hit the worst.”

  “Get ’em out of here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They headed off, leaving Tank to stare out at the burning valley. He inhaled some smoky air with a sharp breath and observed the scale of the task ahead. This wasn’t going to be an easy battle. The flames were fierce. There were fires, and there were fires, and this one was turning into an all-out mother of an inferno from hell.

  Someone walked past him, heading down the slope in the direction of the fire, with movements that were fluid and smooth.

  A little too smooth.

  Tank frowned. This person, whoever they were, wasn’t part of his team, and they weren’t wearing any kind of uniform either, just a leather jacket over jeans. Strangest of all was that they were wearing ultra-dark sunglasses at this time of night. This person, this guy, definitely had to be on the crazy side, he thought.

  “Hey!” Tank called.

  The man stopped.

  Silence followed and Tank tensed, ready for a fight.

  Almost mechanically, the man turned to face him.

  Tank’s head rose as he stared into those jet-black sunglasses. Even through the dim light, he could see some swirling shadows within the lenses. Was it a reflection? No. This was something else entirely – a presence drawing him in.

  Tank shook it away and said, “You can’t go down there!”

  The man paused, as if analysing him, then spoke in an infuriatingly calm tone. “Yes. I can.”

  Something about his voice, as well as the shifting shades of his glasses, mesmerised Tank. For some reason he found himself willingly submitting to the stranger’s suggestive undertones.

  “Fine,” Tank relented. “Go on. Get out of here.”

  The man’s gaze bore deeper into Tank’s.


  “Forget,” the man ordered.

  Tank found himself complying. “Yes.”

  Tank turned away as the man headed down the slope towards the blaze below. Tank had only taken a few steps when he stopped. There was a gap in his mind, like he’d forgotten something important. Try as he might he couldn’t recall the last few moments, no matter how hard he thought. It didn’t matter. He had work to do.

  He hurried to his truck.

  ***

  The man who’d spoken to Tank only moments earlier strode through the valley. His face was expressionless and focused solely on what lay ahead. He walked down the slope, seemingly unaffected by the growing clouds of smoke and searing heat, neither coughing nor reacting, and his skin stayed cool as he moved past the sizzling trees.

  A natural response, for an Agent.

  Agents were above such conditions. They were trained to be. Mentally, physically and emotionally. Objectivity was paramount over all else. Most of his emotions had been purged upon joining the Agency, making it almost physically impossible for him to feel anything. Only the essential ones needed to complete the mission remained.

  The Authority on the Homeworld had made sure of that.

  Since being assigned to this sector, this Agent had been patient for the last several months, watching, waiting, monitoring.

  Preparing.

  Tonight, things had kicked off.

  An enemy vessel had finally arrived.

  One which now lay as a burning wreck that had savagely mutilated the landscape of the valley.

  Still, the threat wasn’t over.

  The Agent moved on.

  He heard a crackle from nearby. Not fire. There was too much raw fury in the sound for that.

  Something wrapped around his leg.

  A plant.

  Not just any plant.

  A thick, slimy tendril.

  The Agent stopped.

  The plant’s grip tightened.

  The Agent lifted his foot and pulled hard. In a sharp snap, the long tendril of the plant ripped in half.

  Unmoved, the Agent continued walking towards the source of the blaze.

  Another tendril slithered in, wrapping around his other leg.