Hunter Burn Novels & Stories

Elian held his gaze for a moment — the grey-green eyes doing that thing again, that translation — and then he turned back to the window. "How far to Budapest?" he asked. "Two hours." "I need to contact someone. My handler. To let them know I'm still alive." "Not yet," Dante said. "Not until we know the channel is clean." "What does clean mean to you? Specifically." "No Meridian intercepts on the line. No tracking signature on the device. No location stamp." Dante glanced at him. "Your current burner — how old is it?" "Eleven days." "Dispose of it. I have clean hardware in the bag behind your seat."

And I couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever it was, it was connected to The Burning. “I found something out while I was out there,” Ben continued, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Something I didn’t want to believe at first.” I frowned. “What do you mean?” Ben looked around, making sure no one was listening, and then leaned in closer. “One of the soldiers in my unit—his name was Carter—he died in the first wave of attacks during The Burning. But before that, he told me something… something strange.” “What?” Ben’s eyes were intense, his voice low and urgent. “Carter said he’d been in contact with someone here. In New Haven. Before the fires broke out.”

In a blast of bright orange fire. "Hugh!" Elizabeth’s scream echoed through the chamber, then Dave shot another round at the remaining assassin. Hugh screamed and struggled to roll out of the flames to safety as his entire body became engulfed. Finally, after a moment, he was able to worm his way onto a part of the stone surface where the fire hadn’t reached, and he continued to turn over in the dust. A few seconds later, the flames had been smothered. The skin on his face and hands peeled and blistered from the burns, and his hair had been singed down to the scalp. When he opened his eyes, he saw Shawn Richmond standing over him, holding his gun. “Now, it's quite a fire, huh?” Shawn lifted

Her shyness amused him, but he always gave her these few minutes of conversation. “Busy’s good.” The breathless catch was back in her own voice. God, why was she so aroused just chitchatting with him? Because she knew what was coming next. “A one-hundred-fourteen-acre burn. Eight hours digging line and we barely contained the fire.” His bald words painted an all-too-clear picture of the harsh conditions he’d faced down in the field. “We had the trucks out and the tankers dropping slurry all afternoon. Summer’s only going to get worse. Things are heating up in the park.”

BHYRON “Sir, sir, I found something!” It’s been three hours since I personally set the Gunam Brother's seventh warehouse on fire. Unfortunately, the fire grew uncontrollable and gutted the warehouse beside it, burning it to ashes. That warehouse belonged to Bethel Washington, a renowned American drug and arms dealer. I’ve been trying to reason with his men for the past hour. Thankfully, the warehouse was empty and not much was lost.

He was asking this question from the day they took him here. Bella took a glance at Daniel before telling Nick to took him out from the bathroom. Nick did as he was told. He took him out, Harry helped him. "Do you know how does it feel to get burned to death?" Bella turned to Cha Sunho who was staring at them. "Fire destroys your nerve endings. So a person feels no pain at all from being burned that severely. The way you burn to death is by suffocation." Bella said sharply. "You'll understand when you'll get burned to death," Sunbin said as she remembered the moment her house was burning.

"There's no around. It's open ground on both sides." I thought about it. Thought about Finn's voice telling me to stay calm, stay smart, that panic never solved anything. Thought about the trainer in Sydney and six months of sessions that had apparently been preparing me for exactly this moment. "What's in your bag?" I asked. Dara raised an eyebrow but reached into the small pack at her hip without arguing. She pulled out a phone — not mine, a burner — and handed it to me along with a small canister I recognised immediately.

[Hunter] My world is on fire, again. Grant Manor is aflame, the alley behind the house scorched. Burned bodies are barely more than soot lying like victims of an apocalypse as nearby buildings smolder. My home is gone. And somewhere inside that mess are Livy and Vanessa. “Breathe,” I remind myself, focusing on my meditation, closing my eyes briefly as I count to ten slowly in my mind. “Breathe.”

His gray eyes locked onto mine. I swallowed hard, my hands trembling. “I don’t want to die here… not like this.” My voice cracked at the end, and I hated how weak I sounded, but I couldn’t help it. His jaw tightened, his eyes never leaving mine. “I won’t let him hurt you,” he said, his voice low but steady. --- Hours crawled by in oppressive silence. Then, the basement door creaked open. My heart plummeted into my stomach. Orin descended the stairs, each step slow, the sound echoing in the stale air. He was holding a crossbow—and a shotgun.

He didn’t just stick his nose where it didn’t belong—he wedged his whole obnoxious personality into my life and invited himself to ruin it. Heat spiked beneath my skin, crawling all the way to my ears. My hands curled into fists so tight my nails practically branded my palms. And then—of course—my left eye started its signature twitch. Perfect. The universal sign that I was one second away from committing a felony. And there he stood. Tristain. Smirking like the villain in my autobiography. Like he knew exactly what he’d done. Like he had planned this. Like he was proud of it. I wanted to launch him into the nearest fountain.