Read Invincible for Free Online Page B

place, and there was soot from the flamethrower all over it.
    Yeah, last night had been fun. It was a wonder they weren’t all in jail.
    Grim crossed his arms over his chest as he surveyed the mess. “Reminds me of the apocalypse. Shame I missed whatever went down here.”
    “It was a zombie invasion, and we barely escaped with our lives.”
    Grim scoffed. “What are you? Arthritic? Zombies don’t move fast enough to be a threat to anyone. They do, however, make great targets when you’re bored.”
    “These weren’t undead zombies … at least not all of them. There was a group of Mortent demons after me. They found a video game that a friend of mine made that could reprogram the human brain and turn a person into a mindless killing machine. They were using my football team to come after us, and trust me, them boys can move and move fast. We didn’t want to kill them, because it wasn’t their fault.”
    Grim screwed his face up as if Nick’s words caused him pain. “Let me give you free advice, kid. Whenever something is coming for you, snap its neck or double tap. Never, ever hesitate. It’s infinitely better to be judged by twelve than carried by six.”
    He had a point, but Nick wasn’t his father and he didn’t want to take anyone’s life. Especially not one of his classmates’. He was pariah enough without adding that to his résumé.
    Grim pulled against the padlocked chain that was holding the unhinged doors across the storefront. “Any way in?”
    Nick pulled out his phone and dialed Bubba’s number.
    “Yell-oh?” Because of Bubba’s thick Southern drawl, most people thought he was stupid when they first met him. But Bubba was a summa cum laude graduate from MIT and was without a doubt the smartest man Nick had ever met.
    A little … no, a lot crazy, but highly intelligent.
    “Hey, Bubba, it’s Nick. My mom started a new job at Sanctuary and wanted me to lie low until she gets off work. Since you’re the reason she got fired, I was wondering if I could work in the shop today?”
    “Oh, hell yeah, get your Cajun hide around to the back door pronto.”
    “I’m right outside.” Nick scooted around to the rear door that was usually reserved for deliveries.
    Bubba already had it open as he eyed him. “How you doing?”
    “I’m alive, so no complaints.”
    “Wish Mark thought that way. Boy ain’t done nothing but cry like a girl all morning long.”
    “I’m not crying. I’m in pain, you heartless Cro-Mag.”
    At six-four and with a full black beard and short black hair, Bubba was the epitome of what most people would call a redneck. But the one thing Nick had learned in his short life was that people seldom fit whatever stereotype others wanted to give them. Case in point, while Bubba loved his truck, his mom, and his guns and flannel shirts, he was also a huge horror movie fan and a sucker for foreign girl movies. In fact, Bubba’s favorite show was Oprah, and he watched it faithfully every single day. Woe or, more to the point, death to anyone who came between Bubba and his TV at four. His music of choice was punk or alternative, and he was never caught with a pair of Doc Marten’s boots.
    Just like Bubba, Mark Fingerman wasn’t what he seemed either. Yes, he wore a lot of camouflage, but that was to keep the zombies from seeing him.
    Don’t ask.
    Mark believed in all paranormal creatures. Even the tooth fairy.
    Again, don’t ask.
    Mark could try the patience of Gandhi.
    Only a handful of years older than Nick, Mark was Bubba’s sidekick. With shaggy brown hair and bright eyes, Mark stood in the store with a mop and bucket. Currently, he was choking said mop and kicking the bucket so much, it sloshed water onto the floor.
    Nick scowled at them. “What’s going on?”
    Mark came forward to hand him the mop he so obviously hated. “Clean up, my friend. Welcome to the party. I’m so glad you could make it.”
    Groaning, Nick took the mop. He’d argue, but Bubba might shoot