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

they’d been napping and retrieved her own rifle from beside it. She’d kill every damn one of them before she let DeVontay get hurt. And that went for Marina and Stephen, too.
    Kokona, however…
    She and Kokona shared a bond, but Rachel often suspected the hyperintelligent infant knew more than she was letting on. The baby’s physical helplessness masked a cunning, almost manipulative personality that was belied by those cute, chubby cheeks and dark, glinting eyes.
    When she returned to the window, DeVontay asked, “You going to shoot it?”
    “If I have to.” She knelt, put the gun to her shoulder the way her grandfather had taught her, pressed her cheek against the stock, and stabilized her elbow against the side of her knee. She focused on the sight so the target was just a shiny blur beyond it, clicked the selector switch from safe, and slid her finger inside the trigger guard.
    Leave us alone.
    She didn’t know she’d said the words aloud until DeVontay answered, “Maybe it’s going away.”
    But the mutant still stood silently on the highway, the black trees and bushes rising around it and a low autumn mist seeping in. There was no hint of dawn yet, so it was impossible to tell the hour. Perhaps time had no meaning to Zaps, since they didn’t age.
    “It’s waiting for something,” Rachel said. She maintained her sights on the mutant.
    “Waiting on you?” DeVontay said.
    “It quit talking in my head.”
    “It might follow us if we go back to the bunker.”
    “We can’t let—”
    She was interrupted by a burst of movement from the trees to the Zap’s left. There came a deep, gargling roar and a sleek silhouette bounded out of the shadows. It galloped with its torso low to the ground, claws audibly clicking on asphalt. It was the same size as the Zaphead, although leaner and four-legged. Even from this distance, its slanted eyes revealed it as a feline, and its snarling mouth held rows of jagged yellow teeth.
    The Zap broke from whatever stasis had consumed it and turned toward the rapidly approaching beast.
    “What the hell is that?” DeVontay said. “Some kind of saber-toothed devil kitty?”
    “That’s the world we live in,” Rachel said.
    She half expected the Zap to scream, or push some kind of panicked plea into her mind, but all she heard was the stealthy predator’s low, purring growl. The big cat closed the distance in seconds, and the Zap didn’t flee from the attack.
    The animal reached up with one mighty paw just before it reached the Zap, batting its prey to the ground. The Zap rolled onto its back, lifting its legs as if to kick the cat away but making no move to defend itself.
    The cat’s whiskered jowls descended and snapped at the Zap’s torso, but the teeth couldn’t penetrate the material.
    If it goes for the head…
    Before she could think, Rachel shifted her aim to the aurora-dappled fur of the cat. She squeezed off a three-round burst that shattered the window and resonated loudly in the warehouse. The cat yelped in startled pain and tumbled to the pavement, then rolled and began dragging itself away as if its rear legs were broken. Two wet gashes glistened along its flanks.
    “What was that all about?” DeVontay said, wiggling his ear with a finger to make the ringing stop.
    “Instinct,” Rachel said. She only hoped she hadn’t followed some sort of tribal compulsion to help others of her kind. She wasn’t Zap. She was human.
    No matter how many times she had to remind herself.
    The silver-clad figure slowly rose to its feet and resumed its former stance as if already forgetting the assault.
    “It was going to be Meow Mix and it acts like it doesn’t give a damn,” DeVontay said. “Whatever Zaps are like now, they’re still weird as hell.”
    But before Rachel could answer, the Zap finally moved, turning its back on the warehouse and walking stiffly down the road toward Stonewall. It was soon swallowed by darkness.
    Its parting words were heard only by