Breaking Danger Read Online Free Page B

at him, and scrambled out. The case was so heavy she had to practically drag it, two-handed, home. She was wheezing by the time she made it to her building. She swiped her key, planning on descending to the garage, when a pack of monsters came unexpectedly around the corner, screaming and raging, caked with blood.
    Two people at the head of the pack howled when they saw her. Heart pounding, she pulled the heavy front door behind her and ran up the stairs. The idea of being caught in the open spaces of the underground garage was too terrifying for words.
    The stairs were clear and she managed to lug the heavy case to her apartment, slamming the door and leaning back against it, panting. The goons of Arka would look here for her first, of course. But somehow she was sure that the chain of command had broken now that the world was burning around them. Security would have no way of knowing she had the virus—and anyway, they were probably already dead or infected. Either way, she was sure no one would come for her.
    She was safe.
    But she was trapped.
    That was yesterday. She’d spent a sleepless night shaking, listening to the sounds of screams, explosions, the city falling apart. And she’d spent the day watching the carnage outside her windows.
    Her building had photovoltaic solar panels on the roof. At least she’d have electricity until the end. Probably. Maybe.
    She made herself a cup of tea and sat on the sofa. It was the new Frau model with a digital music player in the arm. She plugged in her new noise-canceling earbuds and sat back, eyes closed, savoring the utter silence for just a few minutes.
    The day had been filled with the cries of the enraged and the dying. Fire and car alarms going off all over the city. The sounds of feet pounding on the pavement, glass shattering, a few far-off explosions as gas mains went. Howls. Terrifying sounds of utter destruction.
    Now the noise-canceling earbuds gave her the gift of silence, a moment of weary peace. She loved silence. Sometimes after a stressful week, she’d head up to the Marin Headlands for a long walk. Something she’d never be able to do again.
    The last of the TV announcements had said that both the Bay Bridge and the Golden Gate were closed off and that Marines were stationed at the San Francisco ends. Earlier today, there’d been a huge explosion, a column of smoke rising from the west. Her windows gave out onto Beach with no view of the Golden Gate Bridge, but it sounded as if they’d blown it up. Or maybe they’d blown up the access roads?
    Maybe she could never leave San Francisco ever again.
    Unless . . .
    Before the Internet had gone last night, her best friend Elle Connolly had emailed to say that someone named Jon was coming for her, would be there in a few hours. Elle had made only the vaguest mention of where she was—somewhere up north. And no mention of who this Jon was.
    Then Sophie lost her Internet connection and was left only with this thin thread of hope.
    Something about the way Elle had written the email— Jon is coming— had given her a rush of hope. Jon was coming. She had no idea who this Jon was, but it felt as if, even though the end of the world was here, Jon was coming and maybe, just maybe, things would get better.
    That was twenty-four hours ago, and Jon hadn’t come.
    Jon was dead somewhere, torn limb from limb. Or, worse, Jon was now roaming the streets of San Francisco or wherever he was, with madness in his eyes, covered in blood, killing as many people as he could.
    Sophie leaned back, enveloped in the cool embrace of the silence, wishing there was some kind of image-canceling mechanism too, something that would cancel memories the way the headsets canceled noise. But some things, once seen, could never be unseen.
    So much violence, so much blood. So many dead.
    She tried visualizing other things. Better things.
    After all, her life had given her plenty of wonderful images.