Date: 2017-03-26 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Horror; Young Adult; Paranormal
Description: Alexandra barely escapes the epic battle against the genetically modified Hybrids and a horde of deadly Eaters but finds herself in an even more dangerous situation. Will she need to make a deal with the devil to alter the course of humanity? The thrilling next installment of The Death Fields continues Alexandra's story as she fights for the survival of herself and her friends while also trying save the world from her destructive family.

The Girl Who Kicked Ass

By

Angel Lawson

Chapter 1

Schwoop, schwoop, schwoop…

The helicopter blades are hypnotic, lulling my weary bones and exhausted mind to the edge of sleep. My eyelids threaten to close, but I force myself to stay awake. I keep my hand on my weapon. I still haven’t decided if we just caught a ride with friend or foe, and I won’t let my guard down until I do.

We’re huddled close on the floor—my entire team. Cole sits closely to me with a protective arm wrapped around my waist. To my left, Parker’s dark hair is a tangled mess and she looks like maybe a couple of her braids were yanked form her scalp. The glazed look in her eye makes me think she’s probably more in shock than actually asleep. My boy, Jude, stares straight ahead, too exhausted to even notice the blood seeping through his torn pants. In his hand is the handle of a blood-stained knife, ready just in case.

Everyone feels miles away except Davis, who’s fully alert like a good soldier. I watch him, aware that he’s keeping a careful eye on Paul.

Paul, who’d been on the brink of death days ago. Who’d spent the last half a year as a lab rat at the hands of my sister, Jane, and her laboratory/survivalist compound, PharmaCorp. He’s the only one that seems unfazed by the battle we’d just escaped. He’d just saved my life fighting harder than anyone I’d ever seen. Other than Wyatt, of course.

Wyatt Faraday, who’d said some very curious things just before we parted. Things that made my heart ache and my mind bend. He’d said his goal was to keep me alive. Me. Specifically. Maybe he just needed something to fight for, other than himself, for once.

I push back the worry I have for him. When General Erwin dropped out of the sky like a dark angel, Wyatt wasn’t fighting off the Eaters with the rest of us. God knew where he’d gone off to, whether it was on purpose or if he was chum for the monsters we left swarming below the helicopter. Erwin had alluded to the fact he would be fine, but how does he know? The General is probably just happy he isn’t here.

For a dozen reasons, some I don’t want to admit to, I am not okay with the fact he’s not here.

I feel a warm tickle on my neck and turn to face Cole. His arm is still wrapped around me, even while he sleeps, like he’s clinging to a lifeline. I snuggle in against his chest and his arms tighten. It’s not us against just Jane anymore. It’s our tiny team versus Cole’s sister Chloe, who has transitioned to a Hybrid, a terrifying mixture of the adrenaline-fueled Eater combined with the strength and skill of a top-notch soldier. Add in the lack of independent thought and the compulsive, murderous rage and you have a Hybrid, my sister’s answer to the apocalypse.

No, now it’s the six of us against PharmaCorp, the force behind my sister’s biological warfare that created this entire worldwide disaster. She wasn’t content to bring down society and rebuild with normal humans. She had to push her twisted vision on the survivors of the crisis, each scenario worse than the last. It’s the six of us against Chloe, a former friend who has changed into the leader of a genetically altered army whose goal is to take over existing society.

Against the sound of the beating propeller I lean back into the comfort of Cole’s arms, still keeping an eye on Erwin in the front seat. I’m wondering where we’re going, what will happen when we land, and how are we going to fix this crazy world, because running is no longer an option.

*

I barely remember landing, following the soldiers across a wide strip of pavement, or being led down the long corridors to the barracks. We’re pointed toward dormitories and file in.

In the dim room, Parker does ask in a quiet, shell-shocked voice, “Are you sure this is safe?” and I recall telling her that we’re fine and to go to sleep. What I don’t tell her, as I drift off with my cheek on a scratchy blanket, is that I have no idea what Erwin wants us for. I do have a couple guesses, though.

I wake with a pounding headache and expectations of finding the door locked, but to my surprise, it isn’t. There are clean towels on the small metal desk against the wall and clean clothes stacked on the chair. Parker is already awake and other than the missing clump of hair, looking much better than the night before. “I peeked down the hallway. There’s a functional shower and bathroom at the end.”

I look down at my hands, which are coated in blood, dirt, and grime. My pants have a tear in the thigh and I don’t have to raise my arm to know how absolutely horrific I smell. “I don’t even care if the water is cold.”

We shower quickly and quietly. I can’t be sure we’re not being watched, and my sense of paranoia rises when I step out of the stall to find two sets of boots waiting by the bench with the camouflaged uniforms.

I sigh at the green and gray material.

“What?” Parker asks, buttoning her shirt.

“A lot of things turned out differently than I expected and I’m dealing with it, you know? Like sure, I’m not going to college. I’ll never go to a football game or watch Duke play in the Final Four or you know, get into med school. There’s no way I’ll ever get that Mini Cooper I dreamed about buying. But wearing drab military uniforms and constantly being on one ’team’ or the other is a whole new level of my life has gone off the rails.”

Parker stares at me like I’ve lost my mind, which is fair, as I’ve definitely lost my mind.  “At least we have clean clothes.”

“Yeah.” I pull on a white T-shirt and tie my camo shirt around my waist. Just before we leave the room, I glance at my face in the mirror.

“Holy crap, Park! You didn’t tell me it was so bad,” I say, wincing at the sight of myself in the mirror. Both eyes are blackened from hitting the tree root in the fight with the Hybrids. My nose is swollen and puffy.

“I didn’t think you’d really want to know.”

When we exit the room, Cole is waiting for us outside the door, fresh and squeaky clean from his own shower. His blue eyes widen when he sees my face but he quickly rearranges it into something more appropriate. Too late.

“I know. It’s awful.”

He touches my cheek, gentle and soft. “How does it feel?”

“Like I landed on a tree stump with my face.”

“Ouch.” He kisses my temple.

I brush the damp blond hair away from his eyes. “How did you sleep?”

“Fair enough. You?”

I nod and say quietly, “Are you okay? You know, with the whole Chloe thing?”

“No, I’m not really okay with it.” His jaw tics. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“With Erwin?” he asks. Neither of us want to get into it with Erwin again, not after last time.

“If we have to. At some point, we’re going to have to go bigger to deal with this. We can’t beat my sister and all her resources with six rouge Fighters, none of whom have much experience.”

A guard—or soldier, they may be the same thing--waits for us at the end of the hall. The others file out of their rooms and I give Davis a smile. He greets me with a warm smile; we’ve become close over the last couple of months. I don’t know his full story but he’s the best soldier I know, after Wyatt. He’s big and burly, sort of like what you’d think a Marine would look like. Rambo or the Hulk, but not green. He has dark hair and watchful eyes, eyes that are currently still watching Paul closely even though he seems normal enough today after his display of heroics last night. Maybe it was just one of those bizarre adrenaline spikes last night.

Maybe pigs can fly, right?

I tug Davis on the sleeve and he slows. I ask the question that’s been building for hours.  “So what’s the deal with that?” I ask gesturing carefully at Paul.

“So you saw that last night.”

“Uh, yeah. He saved my life. I was one second from being Eater dinner, but let’s be clear, the Paul I knew could not do that.”

Davis nods. “Do you think he’s one of them? A Hybrid?”

“God knows what my sister did to him. I know he was pumped up with a half a dozen vaccine combos over the last couple of months. He may be hybrid of a Hybrid for all I know.”

Davis looks thoughtful at that idea. “I’ll keep an eye on him. If he steps out of line, I’ll take him out.”

“You think you can beat him?”

He doesn’t acknowledge that statement. I continue to keep pace with him and he says, “Something else?”

“Where do you think Wyatt went last night? One minute he was there, the next, gone.”

He shakes his head. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Everyone heads up the stairs. Jude and Parker talk to one another and we follow, passing a blank-faced guard. We’re in the echo-y stairwell when I stop Davis. “Can I ask you something else?”

He pauses, a look of concern on his face. “Sure? What is it?”

“Do you trust him?”

His eyebrows furrow together. “Who?”

“Wyatt.”

I expect him to say yes. To reassure me. But instead, he thinks for a moment before saying, “Wyatt is very good at his job. He’s a stickler about meeting expectations. He always completes the assignment.”

“What’s his assignment?” Other than protecting me.

He lifts an eyebrow. “That’s a question I can’t answer.”

“Because you know and can’t tell or because you actually don’t know?”

“I don’t know anything, Alex. I promise.” He may not know, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t suspect something.

Great. That makes two of us.

*

The smell of bacon makes my stomach rumble like an earthquake, and I nearly break out in tears when I see the glass carafes of coffee lined up at the end of the bar in the cafeteria.

“Is this heaven?” Parker asks the guy wearing a hairnet behind the sneeze guard.

“One biscuit or two?” he replies, holding the lumpy, golden circle with a pair of tongs.

She breaks into a smile, asks for two, and talks about it all the way to the empty table in the middle of the room. “It’s heaven. I knew it. We died the other night and God sent a helicopter to bring us to heaven.”

“It’s not heaven,” I reply after a gulp of coffee that tastes, quite frankly, like angel tears.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Jude argues. Honey drips down his chin. He wipes it away and then licks his hand.

“Don’t get your hopes up. My last run-in with General Erwin didn’t turn out so well.” That’s the understatement of the year. During my journey from Raleigh to Georgia I teamed up with Wyatt, Cole, and Chloe for protection and company after I lost my mother to an Eater attack. Little did I know that Wyatt and Cole were tracking me for different but connected reasons. Both were assigned to follow me and ensure my safe arrival at the demands of my sister (Wyatt) and father (Cole) with the data and samples needed to create the vaccine. We were all surprised when we were ambushed by General Erwin, still functioning as a member of the US military. He also wanted the data and knew that my father used my blood as the base for his research.

We managed to escape, but only by the skin of our teeth. That’s when I learned what a bad-ass ninja Wyatt is. It’s also when I realized Cole had feelings for me that went beyond friends. We lost one of the Fighters that helped us escape, Richardson, and later the gunfire outside PharmaCorp. That’s when Chloe was shot and our crazy life got crazier. No, our run-in with Erwin definitely set things off in a bad direction.

“What do you think Erwin wants?” Cole asks.

“He may still just want access to the vaccine or he may know more,” I reply. “I never quite understood his motives.”

“You think he knows about EVI-2 vaccine?”

There are two vaccines. My sister created both. The first one, EVI-1 is a regular vaccine that stops the E-TR virus from spreading. It’s a tiny parasite that eventually fries people’s brains and turns humans into cannibalistic rage monsters. Then there’s the EVI-2. That one still does the first part, stopping the virus from spreading, but from what we’ve just learned has the added dash of Eater rage while still in control of their faculties. Chloe is Patient Zero for the EVI-2 and she’s now the leader of the pack.

I glance at Paul, who quickly looks away and continues eating. “We’ll find out.”

The remainder of breakfast is a blur of eggs and bacon and filling our bellies. I’ve just pushed my tray through the slot when a female soldier appears and asks me to follow her.

“What about them?” I ask, pointing to my friends.

Another solider appears on cue and says, “I’m supposed to give you all a tour of the facilities while Ms. Ramsey meets with the General.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Cole asks.

“I’m fine,” I say and adding quietly, “Get a feel for the place okay? Layout, lab, Eater torture rooms, that kind of thing.”

He nods and squeezes my hand before walking off.

The walk with the soldier feels like déjà vu, except this time I don’t have a splitting headache from being drugged and kidnapped. I do have a busted nose but my hands are free, so I feel like we’re making progress.

“Where are we?” I ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Arnold Air Force Base.”

I’ve never heard of it.

This must be clear to the soldier because she says, “Outside Chattanooga.”

“Tennessee?” Who knew I’d travel so far during the apocalypse. My home in Raleigh, the one I knew I’d never see again, suddenly seemed even further away.

“What happened to Fort Shaw?”

“It was compromised. Fort Arnold was still functioning with generators and supplies, but had lost a lot of crew. Erwin packed us up and we headed east.” She stops in front of a closed door and knocks.

“Come in.” Erwin’s voice sends an unpleasant chill down my spine, but I shake it off and within seconds we’re standing across from one another in the non-descript office. A far cry from my sister’s suite at PharmaCorp. “Thank you, Mitchell,” he says and waves her away. I stand awkwardly in the room until he gestures at the chair across from the desk and I sit.

“Did you find your quarters comfortable?” he asks, eyes lingering on my battered face. “Settle in okay?”

“If you mean sleep, then yeah, it was fine.”

“Good, hopefully you’ll all find a bit of respite here. I know it’s been a challenging time.”

My back is ramrod straight because God knows what this man will do if I relax my guard, but his words definitely pique my interest. “How exactly do you know what we’ve been through?”

Erwin lost his formal dress sometime after the fall of society. I don’t blame him. Who wants to wear a suit when there’s a monster outside the door trying to eat you for lunch? But he’s still imposing in his cargo pants and button-up camouflage shirt—similar to what I’ve been given to wear.  It’s clear this building is a shell of the operation he had at Fort Shaw, but the man across from me still carries a look of determination.

He leans back in his seat and says, “Alexandra, I realize we got off to a rocky start when we first met in South Carolina.”

“You shot me with a tranq dart and kidnapped me.”

“Right,” he says, looking surprisingly apologetic. “It was an overly aggressive move on my part. Obviously things have changed since we saw each other last. Hell, things could be changing right now for all we know. The foundation of society has crumbled and I’m doing everything I can to hold on tight and keep my people safe. People like you and that team of misfits I pulled off the ground last night. The last time we met, that meant I needed that vaccination and you were the only way for me to get it. That’s no longer the case.”

“Yes, I remember.” He’d strapped me to a chair and endlessly withdrew blood in an attempt to replicate my father’s test vaccine. He’d nearly gotten me, Cole, Wyatt, and Chloe killed. Yeah, I remember. And he just made it clear I’m here because he still needs me—just not in the same way.

“I realize due to all of that, you don’t trust me. I don’t blame you, but I also know that you’re a good person, Alexandra, and if my intel is right, you’re also aware that your sister has lost her Goddamned mind and has to be stopped.”

“Tell me what you know about Jane and PharmaCorp. Everything,” I say, for once feeling like I may be on even ground.

“It’s classif—“

“Don’t,” I say, holding up my hand. “Don’t bullshit me. Don’t hold back. If you want my help, I need to know everything you know—classified or not.” I snort and shake my head. “I mean, classified from who? You’ve seen what’s out there. It’s a warzone of infected civilians and power-hungry humans. Not to mention the ones that fall in between.”

He eyes me carefully. “Where do you fall?”

“I’m definitely not infected.” I hope my face doesn’t give away that we may be harboring a Hybrid, though. “And I’m not power hungry.”

The General leans forward on his elbows and sets his hard gaze on me. “Maybe it’s time you learned to be.”

*

Erwin tells me what he knows—which is a lot. He knows about Jane and the two vaccines. He’s aware of the testing, the Hybrid armies, and her plans to rearrange civilization on her terms. He also knows where more test subjects are being held, along with camps holding survivors under the guise of protection when really they’re just guinea pigs or potential Hybrid soldiers.

“What does she need these soldiers for?” I ask when he’s finished. “Sending them after me and the others was a bit overkill. We were definitely outmanned.”

“Besides having someone that can fight and eliminate the Eaters, there are pockets of the military left all over the country—just like the one here. I think her primary motive is to take us out and then she can be the Director of the world.” He leans back in his chair. “What were you planning on doing when the Hybrids caught up with you?”

“Going back to The Fort and getting Chloe. From there, the main idea was to run like hell into the mountains and ride it out.”

“What about now?”

I want to say the same thing, but too many variables have already shifted in our very fragile plan. “Well, Chloe is a Hybrid. Wyatt is MIA, and I’m here with you. That area you picked us up from is what we call the Death Fields, a no-man’s land, and it’s worse than I thought. I’d been lulled into complacency living in Jane’s ever-growing territory. As of now, I don’t really have a Plan B set up.” I take a deep, uneasy breath. “I thought maybe I could just run from it all—from Jane and the areas populated with the infected, but I realize that I can’t.”

“So you’re willing to help stop her.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Do you have something in mind?”

“I do. And with you and your team I think we can take her down.”

“Why do you think my team of ’misfits’ can do it and your soldiers can’t? Or is that your plan? We’re expendable?”

Erwin’s forehead creases and a strange glint appears in his eyes. “When a country becomes a warzone and factions develop, inevitably a group of rebels or radicals forms to work against the existing government. Your sister has already created a massive resistance with not only her Fighters but the Hybrids as well.”

“So where do we come in?”

“If your friend Faraday was here I wouldn’t have to explain this, but I can see that for a lifelong rule follower like yourself it’s complicated. We need someone to break into their system to bring them down. Someone to infiltrate. A group that is fully funded, armed, and sanctioned.”

I feel sick to my stomach. “You want us to strap bombs to our bodies and become terrorists?”

“No. That’s not it. You’ll be liberators. The true resistance. Free the people and we’ll give them the real vaccine and safety.”

I know I can’t trust this man. I know it, but at this point, with Wyatt gone, I have little choice. “Can you do that? Do you have the vaccine?”

“I will once you bring it to me.”

“And then you’ll use it the right way? To help people. To end all of this? Because I’m not like my sister. What she’s doing is wrong on so many levels and I can’t be a part of it.”

“I’m a believer in the system. Everything your sister stands for is an abomination. I need strong, healthy, immune people to take down Jane and her armies.” He gives me a grim smile. “Additionally, I assume that if I betray you a second time, you’ll kill me.”

Chapter 2

Forty-eight hours later, we’re climbing out of the back of a cargo truck near the Tennessee-Georgia border. Two miles away is a rest area turned Vaccine Clinic just like the one we were stationed at, and recently escaped from, across the state. I look at my team, dressed in ragged, worn clothing. Cole has a lump of dirt on his cheek and I lick my thumb before smearing it down the side of his face to look more realistic.

“Thanks,” he says.

“No problem.”

I turn to the others and say, “Remember, we go in as survivors. We’re starving and exhausted. Do not forget your false identity. We’ve got to get in there, grab as much of the vaccine as possible, and get out.”

“They keep the vaccine locked up,” Jude reminds me.

“Well someone is going to have to charm their way into getting the key.” I look directly at Jude and Parker when I say this.

“I don’t feel comfortable not being part of the infiltration team,” Davis says. Everyone has agreed, except him, that he should wait at the vehicle.

“There’s too much of a risk you’ll be recognized,” I tell him for the fifth time. The dude is built like a tank. Like a non-green Hulk. He’s not the kind of guy you forget.

“And you won’t?” he challenges.

I rub a little more dirt on my cheeks and tuck my hair into the wool stocking cap I found in the lost and found on the base. I scratch my neck because it itches from the scratchy fabric already.

“Look,” I whisper. “You’ve got to hang back just in case something goes wrong. You and Paul. I can’t worry about keeping an eye on him in there.”

Paul must hear his name because he walks over. Everything about him seems steady. “I don’t mind waiting. Honestly, the idea of going through quarantine gives me anxiety.”

“We’ll be in and out—fast,” I say, trying to reassure everyone.

“How fast?” Parker asks.

I sigh, rubbing behind my ears. “Okay, I have no idea how fast. No more than twenty-four hours, but I’m hoping to be out by the shift change, which cuts it to twelve.”

No one likes the sound of that but we head off toward the highway, leaving Davis and Paul hidden in the woods just off the road. It’s a warm morning, the hot Georgia sun beating on our faces. There’s absolutely nothing around; no buildings, no cars, abandoned or running.  Just the quiet that surrounds a dead stretch of the highway, so isolated that it encouraged the government to build the rest area out here in the first place. From the map, it looks like we’ve got three miles to walk before we reach the center.

There’s nothing but the sounds of cawing crows in the distance and our boots on the pavement as we walk down the deserted highway. Cole and Jude carry a handful of pebbles, tossing them down the road one at a time, trying to see who can get closest to the center line. The apocalypse version of Bocce ball. Jude’s rock bangs into Cole’s, knocking him out of the lead.

“Nailed it,” he says.

“Yep,” Cole says. “Best two out of three?”

Jude nods and suddenly turns to Parker and asks, “So you decided to cut all your hair off, huh?”

Parker and I both skip a step and glance over at Jude.

“What?” he says. “I noticed. I mean, it was really long in those neat little braids and now it’s like—gone.”

She touches the top of her head and I know she’s focusing on the small bald spot she earned the other night fighting the horde. She came to me with a pair of scissors right before we left Fort Arnold, asking me to cut off as much as I could. The result is a mess of short, curly hair that covers the bald spot, and a softer look to her face. I’m not surprised Jude noticed.

Neither of us acknowledge him. He finally mumbles, “Well, I like it.”

We round a gentle curve in the hilly roads and spot two figures down the barren road. I grab Jude by his rock-throwing arm.

“You think they’re from the rest area?” Cole asks.

I shrug. “Maybe. Stick to your roles.”

The two people are walking in the same direction we are and do not seem to be in a hurry. Unfortunately, we’ve got a time limit, so it’s not long before we catch up and our ultimate goal is to get in the Center. There’s no reason to hide. Plus, there are four of us. We should be able to handle it, although, as we get closer, it’s clear they are not soldiers, but a man and a woman who look like they haven’t had a shower or good meal in days.

A slight wind picks up as we approach an overpass bridge, blowing their stench in our direction. Parker tugs a handkerchief she has wrapped around her neck over her nose. It’s that bad.

They seem totally unaware that we’re so close by, and I’m trying to figure out how to carefully approach them when I hear the tell-tale sound of a shotgun registering from overhead. We freeze, but a quick look up reveals five other people, all armed, crouching in the small space just underneath the bridge. All just as filthy as the two we followed. The barrels of their guns are pointed right at us.

“Weapons down.” This comes from the man we followed. He’s wearing a dirty yellow trucker hat and his voice echoes off the concrete. He’s got a ratty beard separated into tiny braids, and I’m not sure if oral hygiene was important to him even before the Crisis.

“Easy,” Jude says. “We’re just passing through.”

The guy holds his gun steady. “I said, weapons. Down.”

I place my gun and hatchet on the ground. Jude and Parker quickly do the same. Cole hesitates for a brief moment but reluctantly sets the new compound bow Erwin gave him on the ground.

“Thought you could sneak up on us?” the woman we’d followed says. She scurries around us, collecting our weapons from the ground. Her hair slips away from her face and I see jagged scars down her gaunt face and neck.

“No,” Cole replies. “We’re just in a hurry to reach our destination.”

“And exactly where were you headed?” Trucker hat asks.

There’s no reason not to tell the truth and they may have information we need so I tell them, “We heard there’s a medical clinic down the road—they’re handing out vaccines.”

Trucker hat looks at us, then over at his friends, and all at once they start laughing. Hysterical, bounce off the cement walls laughter that makes me feel like I’m trapped in a mad house, until they stop and the world turns eerily silent again.

“We’ve seen that so-called clinic. You really think they’re handing out vaccines?”

Cole answers for the group again. “Yes.”

Trucker Hat nods at the girl. “Josie, show them.”

She walks in front of us and tugs up her tattered sleeve. Her arm is skinny and pale. It’s also covered in festering scabs and scars. I lean forward and make out something else. A reddish-puckered scar in the shape of a half moon.

It’s a bite.

“You’re infected?” I ask.

“Those doctors, or whatever you call them, shot me up with their miracle cure and then locked me in a room with one of those monsters to see what would happen. They left me for dead, but God didn’t show me that much mercy.”

Parker steps forward and every gun barrel pointed at us follows her. “So the vaccine worked?”

The girl lifts her eyes up and it’s clear something inside her is very wrong. Her pupils are dark black and her skin pale and sallow. I nervously glace around at the others and see that they have a similar appearance.

“We may be alive,” Trucker Hat says, “But that doesn’t mean we’re okay.”

I can’t determine if they’re Hybrids or something else, but I do see that the other men have started closing in and we’re quickly surrounded.

“What do you want?” Cole asks.

“You.” The girl looks up at us with those dark, pained eyes. “We’re hungry.”

Chapter 3

The first thing I think is that they want to eat us. It’s a well-known fact that when the end of the world comes people will quickly turn to cannibalism, right? They bind us and we’re pushed up the steep incline of the underpass until we reach the dark, cave-like area at the top. The ground under the road has been hacked away, making a deeper crevice, a nice-sized room, camouflaged with cement blocks. We’re navigated down short dirt steps into an area lit with lanterns, scavenged pillows, and even a soiled mattress is against the back dirt wall.  There’s an odd collection of pre-crisis things on the table. A deck of cards. A dusty Teddy bear. A glass filled with shiny marbles that glint in the candlelight. Things I doubt will ever be made again.

As I mentally attempt to plot our escape, Trucker Hat directs us to sit on the hay-covered floor and says, “The damn Fighters working in that ’clinic’ have cleared out every available food resource in this area. It’s not like there was a lot in the first place. If you hadn’t noticed, we’re in a pretty desolate part of the mountains. We need your help to break into the clinic and bring us everything you can.”

“Wait, you’re not going to eat us?” I blurt. Everyone gives me a weird look. I stare back. “What? It could happen?” I glance at Jude and whisper, “You didn’t think that would happen?”

He wisely ignores me.

“How do you think we can get in and out with supplies?” Cole asks. “We’re on foot and we’ll definitely be outmanned. I doubt we can just walk in and out of there carrying bundles of food. Why don’t you just leave? Other areas aren’t so scavenged.”

“Other areas are also over run with Eaters, too. Plus, it’s not so easy. Once you’re in the zone it’s hard to leave, especially if they’re looking for you. The soldiers from the camp are watching all the roads. Probably getting ready to come looking for you right now.” A dark look comes into Josie’s eyes when she adds, “They’ll kill us if they find us. They’ll kill you, too. We’re not supposed to exist.”

He’s right. They’ll come for them like they came for Paul. My sister doesn’t want her mistakes out there for the world to see. That’s when I decide to come clean and tell them the truth about our mission. Well, most of the truth.

“Look, you’re not the only survivors of the camps. We have a friend going through the same thing, although he lucked out and didn’t have to fight an Eater,” I say, but it’s not for lack of trying on Jane’s part.

“Where is this ’friend’?” Trucker asks, using air quotes around the word.

“In hiding,” Jude replies.

“Then what are you doing here?” he asks.

I reluctantly explain our plan. We need to get in and out with a sample of the vaccine. We’re hoping to replicate the real one to actually help survivors. I don’t tell them that I am Jane’s sister. I don’t tell them about The Fort. They’re too angry and I’m afraid they’ll do something stupid. One day, I’ll take my sister down, but not until Erwin has built an army big enough to destroy hers.

“If you let us be on our way we’ll see what we can do to help you. Find some food. We’ll gather everything we can.”

Trucker Hat and Josie look at one another, sharing silent communication. He strokes his creepy beard and I decide I really, really don’t want to fight these people. She whispers something in his ear and waves over one of the other men holding a shotgun too close to Parker’s head. A muscle ticks in the back of his jaw and once again, I start plotting my escape. I’m better fed and stronger, but they have way more weapons.

I really wish Wyatt was here.

“Okay,” Trucker says once they part and get back into position. “We’ll let you pass and then we’ll help you escape, if you manage to get the vaccine and food.”

“We want something else, too,” Josie says, chin jutting into the air.

“What’s that?” I ask, willing to agree to anything just to get out of this damp, dark cave.

“Take us with you when you leave.”

*

We agree to their terms, of course. I have no idea if we’ll be able to fulfill our end of the deal since our original plan was risky enough, but they release us back on the highway with the understanding that they’re watching.

“There are eyes all over this road,” Trucker says, his twangy Tennessee accent thick and slow. “Make one bad move, and we’ll get you.”

I’m so glad he didn’t try to eat me; it would have been the worst possible way to die.

He gives us some final advice. Make yourself known. No sneaking up on the base. About two miles out we’d be approached by a team who would escort us in to the compound and filter us through quarantine. We knew most of this already, but Trucker’s group was able to give us a little more information than Erwin had gathered through his spies. Like the fact once we got inside we’d mostly deal with medical staff and not soldiers. They tended to stick to the perimeter of the property.

“The soldiers,” he says, scratching his beard. “There’s something off about them. They seem itchin’ to fight.”

Our team fights a collective reaction. I really hope they’re just enthusiastic Fighters and not Hybrids.

We’re losing daylight and Davis will get antsy if we go past our meet-up time. “You ready?” I ask everyone. Things seem a lot more complicated than they did an hour ago.

“Yeah, I’d feel better if there wasn’t a bullet aimed at the back of my head right now,” Jude says.

Parker rolls her eyes. “There’s always a bullet. This time you just know about it.”

Truth.

Trucker told us to look out for a large oak in the median as a marker for the two mile limit. Sure enough, within minutes we hit a barricade of lined up trucks stretching across both sides of the road.

I’m caught with a sense of déjà vu when the solider walks toward us. We were in a similar situation less than a month ago when we escaped the vaccine clinic with Paul. That time didn’t end so well.

“I’ll talk,” Jude says. We’ve agreed he’s the least conspicuous.

“Afternoon,” the soldier says, her voice firm. My eyes are glued to the purple stripes on her shoulder. Two other soldiers are back near the barricade.

“Hi,” Jude says, breaking into a wary smile.

She looks us up and down, face hard, revealing no emotion. Cole and I are leaning into one another. I play up a hurt ankle. Parker wraps her arms around her stomach. We look pathetic.

“You traveling somewhere?” the Hybrid asks.

“Looking for somewhere to rest. Heard there may be an evacuation center still open this way.”

She nods and looks at me. “You feeling okay?”

“Just a sprain,” I reply. “We’re healthy. Just need some food and sleep, you know?”

“You’ll have to go through security and quarantine, but if everything goes fine you’ll have a bed in a few hours and a belly full of food.”

Parker and I smile wide. My teammate adds, “Thank you, it’s been a long couple of weeks.”

We cross through the gates, where they remove our weapons. We left our better things with Trucker—not because we wanted to, but he demanded a collateral of sorts, to ensure we’d come back.

“These will be returned once you’re processed.”

I keep my eyes away from their faces, which are unnaturally calm. No sign of the rage boiling underneath, but they have no reason to be on alert. We’re just four pathetic survivors looking for help.

We’re ushered into a Jeep and, fake-injury or not, I’m glad to get off my feet for the rest of the trip. Night falls, and as we approach it’s clear we aren’t headed toward a rest area. Instead we veer off the highway and into a small town. Store fronts and offices line the streets of the old commercial area. This isn’t where we were told to go and I start to get nervous and from the twitchy looks of the others, they do, too. If we say something, they’ll know we knew about the Center. If we don’t?

I have no idea what we’re about to walk into.

The boarded up, dusty windows give the impression it had been abandoned long before the crisis. If the rest of the area was like this, no wonder Trucker and Josie had a hard time finding food and supplies.

I wait for the Jeep to stop but the Hybrid keeps driving, passing the deserted small town until we’re on a side street with large, historic homes. She comes to a stop in front of a large white home with big columns.

“What’s this?”

“This is where we do the intake.”

Something’s off. It’s nothing like what we’ve been told to expect by neither Erwin’s scouts nor from Trucker and Josie.

“Here?” I reach for the weapon no longer attached to my hip. Crap.

Cole tenses next to me—his hand wraps around mine. Our eyes meet and I know. He knows. I’m one millisecond from shouting for my team to run like hell when a hand clamps over my mouth from behind and heavy, black fabric covers head.

Chapter 4

I’m gagged and blindfolded, then dragged kicking and grunting up a flight of hardwood stairs. A pair of strong hands holds me down, ties me to a hard, uncomfortable chair, restraining me against my will. I’m thinking terrible things. The worst things about being in this position. Did this man want to hurt me? To touch me? I swallow back pure fear. When the man tightens the rope, he’s close enough that I smell the slight scent of soap and sweat. To my relief, there’s no funny business.

That’s when the fear subsides and the anger returns and I start to fight back. No matter how many times I aimlessly kick, I can’t hit my target. Then I’m left alone to hear the others go through the same process. Doors slam, rattling the windows in the old house until it grows quiet.

Unknown time passes and I drift into sleep, waking when I hear feet on the stairs. My neck aches and my arm muscles burn, but I remain frozen as my captor passes by my room. A mixture of relief and worry washes over me. I’m thankful that no one came in the room, but I worry about my team. Are they separated? Would Davis come looking for us? Would he even know where to start?

The floor creaks to my left and I realize that no, I’m not alone, and terror seizes me when I sense a body move close to mine. I wait, trying to feel their location, bide my time. My thighs are bound but not my ankles. He’s close, I know he’s close, and I strike out with my foot and am rewarded with a grunt. I don’t even hide my muffled glee.

A hand wraps around my neck and a voice, low and menacing, says, “Do it again, and I’ll break a bone. I haven’t decided which one yet.”

My world stops at the threat and the hood is yanked from my head. I blink, eyes watering not from the adjustment to light but at the person holding me captive.

“No,” I say, garbled by my gag.

Wyatt stands, hard-faced, by the door. “Alex, keep your freaking mouth shut and don’t start.”

I rise up on my feet and rush at him. I don’t get far, barely two footsteps before I topple over and crash to my still-healing face.

He tips the chair, and me, back on all fours.

“Behave,” he says quietly, “and maybe you’ll get out of here alive.”  The door opens behind him. I’m in for my second shock of the day when my father appears in the doorway. His eyes widen when he sees me and immediately says, “You gagged her? I was explicit in my instructions.”

“Sorry sir, she was a bit combative,” Wyatt replies.

Combative? I’ll show him combative. I’m going to kill him.

“Alexandra, you’ll behave?” my father asks.

Oh, I’m going to kill my father, too. Both of them. With my bare hands.

He looks at me expectantly so I give him a quick nod. Wyatt moves between me and my father and takes my jaw gently in both of his strong hands. Just before removing the gag, he whispers, “Keep your shit together.”

I try to bite his finger but miss. Stupid ninja.

“That’s better,” my father says with a weak smile. The room is bare, other than a matching chair to mine and the medical bag he places on the floor near the door. He sits across from me and I notice he’s wearing a Jane-approved uniform. It’s the first time I’ve seen him out of a lab coat in over a year. He looks nervous, face blotchy. I note the expansion of gray hairs in his beard and hair.

Everything about this situation is insane.

“Is this really necessary?” I ask my Dad.

“I’m afraid so, sweetheart.”

Anger builds at his use of endearments. I tug at my restraints. “What this is about?”

He glances at Wyatt and gives him a nod. Quietly, he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him, but not before giving me one last look. I roll my eyes, pretending my heart isn’t lodged in my throat. When I glance at my father again, his face has softened and he says, “Are you okay? I told them not to harm you. The Hybrids are a bit…unstable.”

My head spins. My father is talking about the Hybrids like they’re a normal thing. “I’m fine, I guess, but I really don’t understand what’s happening here. You kidnapped me! Tied me up!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he mutters. His hands shake. “This isn’t me. I swear it’s not. And look at you! Dressed in a military uniform. Carrying weapons!  We’re no longer recognizable, but unfortunately we’ve got no choice.”

“Don’t we?” I ask, because I refuse to act like I don’t have agency here. Not in this life. I cut to the chase. “Clearly you’ve picked me up because Jane wants me and the others dead, because I know about her nasty secret.”

“If only it were that simple,” He says gravely. “She doesn’t want you dead, Alexandra. She wants to turn you into one of them.”

My jaw drops. “A Hybrid? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Always literal, my father shakes his head. “No, I am not joking. I’m very serious. In a bizarre way, family is still very important to Jane, but like everything else she can’t just be satisfied with typical relationships. She wants to control us and view her ideas the same way she does. I’ve played along with her fantasies just to stay on the inside. She can’t alter my biology or I would be unable to do my job. But you…in her mind, you could be so much more.”

Realization sinks. “She wants to change me into a Hybrid so she can control me.”

He nods sadly. “She doesn’t want to lose you but she can’t accept you the way you are.”

“You mean my humanity? My independence? Or she can’t accept the fact I have a conscience.”

I don’t want to have to hurt my father, like physically harm him, but with the way this conversation is going it may be unavoidable. With Wyatt outside the door, even if I slit his throat I wouldn’t get far, and there’s no way I’d make it to the others. I’m trapped, and from the heavy bags under my father’s eyes, he knows it.

“So you picked me up to administer the EVI-2?” I ask, watching him as he reaches into his bag and pulls out a small case. It’s stainless steel with a latch and a number locking mechanism on the side. He shows me the code, 091898.

My birthday.

Sweat prickles on my neck and the air in the room seems too thin. The lock springs with a click and my father reveals six vials.

“Don’t do this,” I say.

“She knew you were going to attack the outpost today and she asked me to intercept you. I haven’t left the confines of the laboratory or The Fort since I got there. I think Jane wanted me to see the world she created, thinking I would be impressed and proud. It’s terrible. I don’t think she recognizes that. She can’t see the destruction—just the future.”

“Jane’s crazy, you know that, right?”

He doesn’t seem to hear me, because he keeps talking. “That big guy outside the door? He helped me find you. He knew exactly where you’d be—down to the minute. Jane thought we were going on to the medical center, that I’d give you the EVI-2 there, but he suggested something different.”

I swallow and give it everything I have. “Daddy, please don’t do this to me. Please.”

He leans forward and in a low voice says, “Take these to General Erwin. Together, you’re our only chance.”

I blink, slow on the uptake. “What?”

The echoing sound of car doors slamming breaks the awkward moment between the two of us. My father snaps the box shut. I watch in pure confusion as he moves quicker than I thought possible. A blade flashes in the light and within seconds the binds are cut. “Stay here. Don’t move. Pretend you’re still tied up. I’ll take care of the guard outside.”

I snort. Sure, he’ll take care of Wyatt.

“What about the others? My friends.”

“I can’t save everyone, Alexandra.”

The sound of glass breaking and heavy boots sound from down the hallway. We both jump at the sound. It’s unexpected. And Wyatt’s quick footsteps move away from his spot guarding the door.  My father tucks the knife in my pocket and says, “Lock the door behind me. There’s a porch overhang and trellis outside that window.” He smooths my hair with his hand, and I see the kindness and love in his eyes that I’ve known my whole life. “Stay safe. I love you.”

His words are a punch in the gut but he’s gone before I can reply. I wait for one confused beat before I jump out of my seat and race to the door, locking it quickly. Shoving the vaccine case in my cargo pocket, I go to the window and open the sash slowly.

Shouts echo down the hall. Loud, southern, and brash. Furniture crashes against the walls and floors, each bang closer than the next.

“I told you I’d kill you if you came near me and mine again. After everything you did to me. You took everything. My family, my health,” the man cries, anger rippling down the hall. The voice is familiar and I’ve got one leg over the window sill when it connects. It’s Trucker Hat. They must have come after us. After all, we’d made a deal and he made it clear he was going to watch us while we were with the Hybrids.

I hesitate. I don’t owe Trucker or Josie or any of their crew a thing. In fact, they owe us our weapons and half a day’s travel. I hear a yelp from a female and Josie’s scarred face and body come to mind. I can’t let this happen to anyone else again.

With a heavy sigh, I climb back in, slip the knife out of my boot and head into the hallway.

Chapter 5

I turn away from the fighting downstairs and down the narrow hall toward the closed doors I hope my friends are behind. I shake the handle on the first one and curse when it’s locked. Stepping back, I take a breath and kick at the door. It’s loud, and I flinch at the sound but quickly do it again, this time rewarded with a loud crack as the door flies backwards.

Jude waits, gagged and wide-eyed on the other side. I race to him, removing the gag. He coughs and says, “Thank God.”

“You okay?” I ask, fumbling with the ties. I use the knife like a saw and the threads finally break. I hand him the blade. “Do your feet.”

I’m back at the doorway, looking down the hall. Nothing but shouts from below. I don’t hear my father or Wyatt in the fray, though.

“What’s going on down there?” Jude asks.

“Trucker Hat followed us.”

“Oh hell,” he breathes. ”It may just give us time to get out of here.”

He’s on his feet and we move to the second door. This time, he takes it down and we find Parker in the same position. While he takes care of her, I run to the final room on the hallway, where I pray Cole will be behind the wooden door.

It takes me three tries and my knees ache from the impact when the wooden door finally bursts open. I nearly cry when I find Cole safely bound on the other side. His blue eyes fill with relief. There’s a bruise on his cheek—he must have fought back, and I wonder if Wyatt gave it to him. I take a brief moment to touch his chin before helping him get loose. Within minutes, we’re all in the hallway.

“We can go out the window,” I say, although it’s quieted down to nothing but boots shuffling on the ground on the first floor. I can’t tell who came out the winner of the fight, but I’m not sticking around to find out. “Or we can check on Trucker and Josie.”

“We didn’t uphold our end and there’s no way we’re going to get in that Med Center now,” Cole says.

I feel the weight of my father’s gift, the vaccine case, in my pocket. “We don’t have to.” They look at me in confusion. “I’ll explain later.”

“Then let’s go out the window,” Parker says.

The others nod and I lead the way. It’s still open from my earlier attempt. I crawl through, slipping into the dark. The shingles are old and slippery. I bend and get on my knees, feeling for the trellis over the edge.

“I’ll go first,” Cole says, coming up behind me. “Let me make sure it will hold.”

“I’m lighter.”

“I don’t care,” he says. Before I can go, he’s already down the side. I peer over and find him wobbling on the shaky, wooden structure until he tumbles a short fall to the ground. He rolls and is on his feet quickly and looks up with a sheepish grin.

“Go,” I say to the others, and one at a time they head down the trellis. Just as Parker’s head dips below the gutter I hear a noise in the bedroom. I look back and Trucker’s dirty beard appears in the window.

“Trying to sneak out, sweetheart?”

“Get out of here. Hide. Don’t let them find you,” I say in warning. There are forces at play here that he doesn’t understand. My father gave me a mission greater than anything else at the moment. A shadow moves behind the man in the window and Wyatt’s face comes into view.

“Who the hell are you?” Trucker asks him in a thick accent. I don’t stay for the answer, climbing over the edge of the porch while I have chance.

My toes find the trellis and I take one last look, just in time to see Wyatt clasp a hand around the other man’s neck. I don’t wait to see more.

The trellis shakes under my feet, and once it nearly pulls away from the side of the house, but I recover and jump the final section, landing on the soft, grassy yard. Strong arms, steady arms, hold on to my waist and I turn to face Cole. Brushing the hair out of his eyes, I ask, “Is everyone okay?”

“All accounted for.”

“Then let’s get out of here.”

Jude smiles. “Definitely.”

The night is cool, autumn is coming, and the cloud cover is enough for us to move stealth-like around the side yard. I hold up a hand and say to the breathless group, “We’ve just got to get to the highway and back to Davis and Paul. Anyone got a map?”

I wait for someone to make one magically appear, because God knows I need it right now. Instead, I get three blank-faced reactions, all looking over my shoulder.

My heart sinks.

I expect Wyatt. I have no doubt he could kill a man in one second and get down here in the next. But it’s not him. What I don’t count on when I turn around is Josie, cheeks wet with tears.

“They’re dead,” she says, wiping her face.

“Who?” But I know only one man was going to come out of that room alive and one is a mercenary ninja. The odds are definitely not in Trucker’s favor.

“All of them. Everyone that came with me.”

I tighten my grip on the handle of the knife. “I’m sorry.”

Cole’s hand is firm on my back. Pressuring. He’s ready to go. The girl makes no move to get out of the way.

“They’ll be back when they see we’re missing,” I tell her. She still doesn’t move. “Josie?”

In the moonlight I see her face. The scar and the determination. I spot the weapon in her hand. It’s mine. It’s my hatchet. I’m about to ask for it back when she hands it over and says, “Can I come with you?”

Chapter 6

I expected it to take hours to get back to Davis, but to my surprise, he and Paul appear in the truck a mile or so away from the house. I’m dead on my feet when we get in the truck but I ask anyway, “How’d you know where to find us?”

He stares stonily ahead and asks back, “How did you get out of that alive?”

I guess we both have friends on the inside. I’m still reeling from the fact my father pulled this whole thing off. Of course he had Wyatt’s help, even though his motives are less clear. I don’t have a problem admitting, though, that it makes me feel better to have heard my father say he loves me.

I’m asleep before we get a mile away and wake only when we drive through the gates at Fort Arnold near dawn.

I ask for Erwin. The vaccine is heavy in my pocket. I haven’t told anyone about it. My team wanders off in search of food and beds. Josie is taken to quarantine. I jog toward Cole and tug his sleeve.

“Want to come with me to debrief the General?”

His eyes are dark. Hollow. Glancing at Josie’s retreating form he says, “I’ll go with her. Let them know what she went through. They may need to run additional tests.”

I nod and he hesitates, like he may reach out to me or say something else, but he smiles weakly and turns down toward the medical unit. A soldier waits at the hallway and escorts me down to the General’s office. I don’t wait for a greeting. I walk in and spy the coffee mug with steam rising out of the top. I lay the case on Erwin’s desk, swapping it for the mug.  He lifts an eyebrow in reaction.

I take a sip. I take three. The liquid warms my belly. With the mug, I gesture to the case. “That’s the vaccine. Six vials. It’s all we’re getting.”

“So the mission was a success?”

I snort. Then laugh. A long, hysterical, exhausted laugh. He allows my small breakdown, and when I gain my composure I say, “Sure. We can call it successful.”

To my surprise he gives me a soft smile and says, “Thank you, Alexandra. I knew you could do it.”

The truth is that I didn’t do it. I’m just the cog in a complicated wheel that involves my family, their genius and the future of society. My father is working from the inside. So is the best solider Jane has in her army. Like a cartoon character with a light bulb over my head, something in me clicks about a suggestion Erwin made when he rescued us.

Erwin frowns. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, you know, I think I am,” I say, standing up to leave. “After I take a really long shower and a really, really long nap, I have an idea I’d like to share with you and my team.”

He watches me carefully as though I’ve had a mental break. Not that something like that would ever stop Erwin, anyway. Unsurprisingly he replies with confidence, “Good. I’m eager to hear your plans.”

*

I take the long way back from Erwin’s office to hit the cafeteria. Armed with a piece of bread slathered in peanut butter, I pass by the gym on the way up to the dormitories.

Although it’s late, it’s not surprising to find people in the training room lifting weights or punching the sand bag. Tonight, though, it sounds more like a bull rampaging through a china shop and I pause at the door before I peek inside.

I’ve got peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth, but it doesn’t matter. I’m stunned speechless. Paul is running some kind of manic circuit. When I walk in, he’s zipping back and forth, doing suicide sprints on the short, indoor track. Barely out of breath, he moves to the weight rack and starts lifting the heaviest hand weights they have. Fifty pounds, I think. He does two reps and then moves to the punching bag. He goes into a full assault. Kicks and hits fly through the air, landing perfectly on the bag. The only sound in the room is the echo of his grunts as he goes through the workout. His biceps bulge and his chest heaves. It’s like he’s transforming in front of me.

When he stands at the back of the room, pacing behind a barbell resting on the floor, I know I should go get Davis. Maybe even Erwin, but I’m mesmerized.  Five disks are stacked on each end, starting with the biggest. I can’t tell the total weight but it has to be triple Paul’s physical weight.

Rubbing his hands together, he bends and grips the bar. His face strains and the veins in his neck bulge, but with more ease than I thought possible, he dead lifts the bar, holding it for a count of ten.

“Holy cow, dude,” I shout, although I’m not sure how much he caught with my mouth full of food. He hears me though and drops the weight on the ground, where it bounces an inch off the mat.

“Alex,” he says, looking uncomfortably at the massive weight. “That’s not what it…uh…”

“Looks like?” I step over to the water fountain and wash down the bread. “I saw you. You lifted that.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

“I’m sure you have. But that’s not what’s going on, is it?” I walk over to him and lift up the hem of his shirt. Muscles that I’m sure weren’t there two weeks ago ladder up his stomach. I look in his eyes, terrified I’ll find the worst, but they’re clear, and other than redness and sweat from physical exertion, he looks fine. “They gave you something—not quite Hybrid, but something.”

“I don’t know what it was. It could have been any variation of the vaccines they tested—or maybe the cumulation of them all?” He wipes his hands on a rag he picks up off a bench. “Are you scared?”

“You saved me and you’re my friend.” I shake my head. “No, I’m not scared, although I do think we have to be careful.”

“I don’t have any urges to hurt anyone or any sense of following alternate directions. None of that hive mentality the Hybrids seem ruled by.”

“Something clicked it on that night, though. If it wasn’t the other Hybrids then what was it?” I’ve wanted to ask that question for weeks.

He tugs at his gloves and looks away. “You were in danger and I was scared.”

“Paul…”

He smiles at me. “You came back for me. It may have been a fluke but it counts with me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“Thank you. I feel the same way.”

He looks around the room. “I don’t carry the rage, but I do have a huge amount of energy—like I’m bursting out of my skin sometimes, you know? I just want to get out there and do something. ”

“Good. You know, we should probably talk to Cole about this. Let him do some tests.”

He holds up his hands. “No tests. I can’t.”

Now he looks panicked and I get it. “Okay, no tests, but you should start working out with Davis. He can help you control some of that energy. He’s good at training—one of the best.”

That idea pleases him. Probably more the idea of being strong now and not left at the mercy of Jane and her minions. I don’t blame him. Being vulnerable sucks.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” he asks. “No offense, but you look like crap.”

“Thanks a lot,” I laugh, punching him in the arm. It’s solid as a rock and I instantly regret it. “Yeah, I need to get to bed. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“We do?”

“Yep. Get ready.”

Chapter 7

“So you want us to become terrorists?”

Jude doesn’t sound completely opposed to the idea, even though everyone else looks at me with skepticism. Well, not Davis. He just has that stone-faced, soldier expression on. I’m sure it’s not the first time he’s been asked to do something like this.

“Terrorist is a strong word,” I argue. “Here’s the thing: Erwin suggested this to me weeks ago and I didn’t get it, but after everything we went through yesterday I realize he’s right. The only way to take Jane down is from the inside.”

“So you want us to go in and sabotage her holdings?” Jude asks, apparently the spokesperson for the group now. A quick glance at Cole makes me unsure he’s even listening.

“The clinics, the camps, her vehicles, her workers and soldiers. We’ll stop supply runs. Steal their food and ammunition. Cut the generators. If Jane’s facilities are no longer functioning we can get to survivors first. Vaccinate them. Get them away from Jane before she has a chance to turn them into Hybrids.”

“And the Fort?” Cole asks. Ah. Apparently he is listening.

I rest my elbows on the table. Erwin gave us use of a conference room with a large window that makes the room bright enough to see one another without the generated lights. “Eventually, yes.”

“I like it,” Davis says. “We go in fast and get out. A team diverts survivors and brings them back here. We create our own army.”

I smile, relieved to have someone understand. “Yes. Exactly.”

Paul raises his hand. “And Erwin has infrastructure to handle the inflow of survivors?”

“He’s working on it.”

“And you trust him?” he adds.

I lean back in my seat. It’s leather and rocks gently. “My father trusts him and right now that’s all I’ve got.”

“Your father?” Parker asks.

“He’s the one behind that ambush last night—well, the original one to get us there. He gave me enough samples for Erwin’s lab to work with to recreate the vaccine. He’s working against my sister from the inside. Now it’s our job to work against her from the outside.”

“So we’re forming a rebellion or a resistance or something,” Cole asks.

“Yes.” I look around the table. “Do we need to vote?”

Once again, Jude replies for the group. “Nope. When do we start?”

Chapter 8

We split into two teams. Three of us on each team with a force of Erwin’s soldiers backing us up. Erwin was already collecting data and had surveillance on Jane’s activities. That’s how he rescued us.

We meet. Plan. Strategize.

After a week of preparation we start small. Davis, Parker, and Jude are targeting a supply run heading out of Cartersville back to Augusta. Erwin’s spies have watched the scouts come and go for a week from a canned goods distribution center. Load up and delivery day is in three hours. Just past nightfall.

“Your job is to stop the truck,” I remind them in Fort Arnold’s massive garage. “Take out the drivers. They should all be Hybrids.”

Parker rolls her eyes. She’s wearing enough body armor to go into battle. I hope it doesn’t come to that. “You say that like it will be easy.”

“You can handle it,” I say. “You’ve got thirty soldiers backing you up. Let them do the dirty work. Once clear, you’ll drive the truck to Erwin’s warehouse.”

Davis whistles, getting everyone’s attention. Cole, Paul, and I watch as they get in the vehicles and I shift nervously, bouncing on my feet.

“What’s going on?” Cole asks, observing my excess energy.

“I feel like I should be going with them,” I reply.

“Why? You think they can’t do it without you?” Paul asks. Bluntness seems to be a side-effect of his transition.

“No.” Yes, I want to say, but it’s stupid to think this whole thing hinges on me. “I just hate waiting around.”

Neither Paul nor Cole look like they believe me. The enormous garage doors roll up, sounding like a freight train, and we watch the trucks roll out one after the other. Parker waves from the window and I say a silent prayer.

Paul tugs my arm. “Come on, we’ll be busy enough tomorrow. We should rest up.”

Just thinking about sleep makes me yawn. It’s been a long day—a long week. “Yeah, I’m ready to crash,” I say, linking my fingers with Cole’s. His hand is cool and I tighten my grip to warm him up. He and I could use a little alone time. I take a nerve-gathering breath. “It will be strange having a room to myself since Parker’s gone for the night, you know?”

Paul lifts an eyebrow but says nothing. Cole just…he just keeps walking like he didn’t hear me.  Ouch.

The three of us walk back to the main building. When we get to the split off for the dormitories, Cole hesitates. Paul looks between us curiously but then heads down the hall.

“You okay?” I ask.

“I’m just not tired. I think I’m going to check on Josie before going to bed.”

“Is she feeling better?” I knew she’d gone through extensive testing to figure out what kind of chemical cocktail she’d been given at the camps. She was also severely dehydrated and close to starvation when she came in. I’m not sure how she and her group were even surviving out there.

“The doctors should release her in a few days and she’ll be ready to get to work. I just wanted to check on her progress. I think it makes her feel better to see someone familiar.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” I feel a little bit like a jerk. I hadn’t gone down once since we’d arrived back at the base. “I can come with you if you want?”

“You sleep,” he says, reaching for me. He rubs his thumb along my neck and goosebumps rise on my arms.

“Okay,” I agree. “But come see me when you get finished.”

He nods. “I can do that.”

We separate and go opposite directions. When I turn the corner, I see Paul waiting outside my room.  He looks a million times better than when we found him. His cheeks are filled out from getting some food and nourishment. His eyes brighter and the dark, sunken circles underneath gone. His disposition and attitude is better—he’s upbeat and happy to be part of the team. Davis and I watch him closely but neither of us has seen the single hint to the fighter from the night we got here. I’m starting to think I made it up.

“He seems weird,” he says when I get to him.

“Who?”

“Cole.”

I shake my head. “How would you know?”

He leans his lanky body against the wall. “I know you asked him back to your room and he declined. In my opinion, that’s weird.”

My cheeks flush. Was I that obvious? It’s not like I’ve done anything like this before. Paul watches me with an expression that is one of amusement and sympathy. Trying to save face I say, “I didn’t ask him back here. I was just making small talk. It’s not a big deal.”

“Enhanced hearing seems to be one of the benefits.” He touches his ear and gives me an apologetic smile. “I know you and Davis are keeping an eye on me. I know you think something’s wrong. There may be. I don’t know. But I’m not the only one acting strange, and that exchange between the two of you confirms it. It’s the apocalypse. No one turns down a chance to share a bed with a beautiful woman when given the opportunity.”

“Oh, God.” My face is so red I break out into a sweat. Paul shakes his head and fights a burst of laughter. The dorm is full of sleeping people. I reach for the door handle in an attempt to escape. “I wasn’t—that’s not what—”

Paul stops me and says. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, Alex. I really do think something may be wrong. Keep an eye on him.” He opens the door for me. “Goodnight. See you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Paul.”

I close the door and strip to my T-shirt and a pair of shorts before getting into bed.  Under the thin, wool blanket I push to forget everything embarrassing thing that had just transpired and slip into a heavy sleep.

*

The light from the hall brightens the room for a brief, bold moment, waking me enough that I see the body slip into the room. My hand is on the knife I keep under my pillow but it’s unnecessary. A halo of shaggy, curled blonde hair catches the light before we’re swallowed in darkness.

“Hey,” I call in a groggy voice, and I feel his weight on the edge of the mattress.

“Sorry I woke you. It took longer than I thought but…”

“It’s fine.” I scoot over further and again, I sense the slightest hesitation before he kicks off his boots and fills the empty space beside me. He lifts his arm to move around my neck, cradling me to his side.

“How’s Josie?”

“Good. Stronger, I think. She went through a lot out there.”

I think about the young woman surrounded by semi-feral men. They protected her—but at what cost?

“It’s good that you’re helping her,” I say, resting a hand on his stomach. He’s too thin, we all are, but I feel the muscles beneath his shirt contract at my touch. “Things could have ended differently for me out there. You know, back in the beginning. I don’t think I would have made it far without having help.”

“I’ve never said this, but I should have been there for you in barn, you know, with your mother. Chloe and I got hung up with some Eaters and we lost track of you for about twenty-four hours.” His voice is quiet. Heavy with sadness.

“Wyatt was there. I wasn’t alone.”

He winces and I realize that was not the comment he needed to hear. “Yeah, he was.”

I want to tell him Wyatt is playing a game I can’t quite keep up with. Someone we can’t exactly trust, even though my gut tells me something different. I haven’t told anyone he was in the house with my father. I’m not exactly sure why, although one look at Cole’s pained expression gives me a good idea. I hate that he feels this way—like he’s never enough.

I can barely make Cole out in the dark, but I roll on my side and ask, “Did I ever thank you for saving me that day on the boat? Properly?”

“Properly?” he asks in the dark, I hear the insinuation in his voice.

I don’t need light to find his mouth. I use my hands to stroke his cheeks, my fingers to discover his lips. I kiss him, sharing my warmth.  This time there’s no hesitation on his part and he kisses me in return, robbing me of my breath and my senses. His lips trail down my jaw, down my neck to the edge of my shirt. I run my hand over his side, dipping my fingers under the fabric, feeling the hot skin just out of reach. He shifts quickly and I’m beneath him.

“Thank you for saving me that day,” I whisper in his ear. I can sense it’s something he needs to hear. “Thank you for having my back.”

He shudders and kisses me harder, mouth crashing into mine. His hips are heavy, his biceps tense. An incredible need rushes through me to touch and taste him. I push his sleeve up to his shoulder, kissing the inside of his arms. He breathes deeply, chest rising and falling.

“Alex,” he mumbles, like he has something to tell me, but he pushes me back gently, lifting up my shirt before pressing his face in my belly. His lips sear against my skin, moving hip to hip, and I’ve decided there’s no better day and no better person than the one with me right now. Like Paul said, it’s the apocalypse. You take the chances you get.

But he seems to have other ideas because he lowers my shirt and smooths out the fabric. Keeping me close, he rolls to his side and groans into my hair.

“Why’d you stop?” I ask quietly.

“My body is here with you, but my head is all over the place. With the team on their mission. With the lab.” He swallows and I feel his Adam’s apple bob up and down. There’s something else.

“Chloe?” I ask.

“Always. I’m so afraid of what’s happening to her. What—” He pauses. “What I’m going to have to do.”

My heart breaks for Cole and everything clicks into place. The disconnect. The sadness. I’d been too busy with my plans and drive to take out my sister that I’d forgotten about his. Chloe isn’t just his sibling, they’re twins, and I’ve watched the sacrifice and devotion they have to one another. It nearly destroyed him when she was shot in our attempt to get away from Erwin and to the Fort. He didn’t want to leave her but he followed me anyway to the vaccine center, warning us of trouble heading our way.

“We’re going to figure something out. No one here expects you to hurt your sister,” I reassure him. “She’s a victim of Jane’s manipulations as much as everyone else.”

“I’ve been trying to come up with a solution. Down in the lab and studying Josie’s results, but I’ve also talked to Davis. There’s no way to get her out of this alive.”

Paul flashes to mind and I wonder if there’s something we’re missing. Another link in the chain. I grip his shirt. “Listen—” I start, but a loud banging on the door stops me. I hear my name called out and I scramble from bed, opening the door to find Paul outside.

“They’re back,” he says, eyes flicking over my shoulder to Cole.

“Did they do it?”

He nods. “They got the truck, but not without a fight. Parker is down in the med unit.”

“She’s hurt? How bad?”

“I don’t exactly know.” His eyes darken. “She’s been bit.”

Chapter 10

We race to the med unit and find Davis and Jude outside in a small waiting area. They’re dirty from battle, dark blood stained down the front of their uniforms. Jude paces like a caged tiger.

“What happened?” I ask.  The doors are locked, quarantine sign lit above the small window.

“Everything went according to plan,” Davis says. “We definitely got the drop on them. They were unprepared and outmanned. Erwin’s unit easily fought the Hybrids while we secured the truck. Once the road was clear, we started for the base, going the detour route on the way back just in case we were being followed.”

“Were you?” Cole asks.

“No.” Jude says. “We got a flat. Tire just blew. Davis managed to keep it on the road but it was shredded.”

Davis rubs his head. “I radioed back to the unit and told them to meet us with an alternate vehicle. We were still in the Death Fields, on a narrow mountain road. We needed to get out of there and come back later for the cargo.”

The two men share a haunted look.

“What happened to Parker?” I ask.

“We got out of the truck to check the back for anything we could use. Parker stayed in the cab. I guess,” Jude says, voice wavering, “the Eaters heard the tire shred. Noise echoes out there.”

“They poured down the hills. Sheer cliffs. I’ve never seen them move so fast.” Davis swallows. “We bolted for the cab, but before we got back we heard screams. The cab was swarmed. She had the door open and couldn’t shut it before one got in. She took him out but not before he got a piece of her.”

I sink into the closest chair. “She’s vaccinated. She’ll be okay?”

None of us has experienced a bite since vaccination, and understandably there’s a distrust to my sister’s incomprehensible science. Just because Jane says the vaccine works, should we trust the word of a madwoman? Are we really safe?

“She lost a lot of blood before we could get her back here.”

“So even if she survives the bite,” Paul says, “the attack may kill her.”

Cole walks over to the wall and slams his fist against it, kicking the bottom for good measure. No one says a word, we all feel like kicking walls, or at least I know I do. But I know this can’t be good for him—he already feels added responsibility for Chloe and even Josie because he worked directly on the vaccine with my father before all hell broke loose and later at PharmaCorp. I know he feels a responsibility for me—he’s never backed down from the task my father gave him to protect me. But Parker’s life is not on his shoulders.

I walk over and rest a hand on his back but he shrugs it off. “Not now, Alex.”

“There’s nothing we can do, man,” Jude says. “We just have to wait.”

Cole turns to face us, his jaw tight and eyes hard. He looks at his watch and says to me and Paul, “We have two hours until our first mission. I’ll meet you when it’s time to leave.” He turns on his heel and storms off.

I start to follow but Paul grabs my arm. “Let him go.”

“He’s a mess,” I say.

“Good,” he says. “Today is going to be tough. Let him use it.”

Chapter 11

The following weeks are filled with work; hard work that leaves us bruised and exhausted. We hijack cargo trucks. We sabotage sewer systems, solar panels, and ambush food supplies. We round up prisoners, Fighters, and other workers loyal to Jane, caging them below Fort Arnold. The survivors? They’re given a choice. Go on your own or get the real vaccine and join up. Most agree to the latter and Erwin builds his army.

I stare at my reflection in the truck’s side mirror. There’s a hard set to my jaw, lines are next to my eyes and at times I barely recognize myself. I see the same in my team. We’re real soldiers now, not just people playing them.

Something strange happens between us. We’re closer than I could imagine. Like family. Maybe more than family, at least in my case. I learn their moves, how they carry their weapons. We fall into a dance, a rhythm, while we watch Jane’s carefully built society start to crumble, if only on the edges.

But even with that familiarity, there’s something else happening with our team. We retreat into ourselves, building walls to get through the battles, form thick skins of protection with our emotions. Chloe taught us that. Almost losing Parker confirmed it.

The truck lurches in and out of a pothole and I grab on to the dash to hold steady. “Do you have to hit every one?” I ask, shaking my head at Davis.

“I don’t hit every one.”

He hits one.

“That one was on purpose,” he says, eyes cut in my direction.

“Sure.” I push my hair out of my eyes. It’s windy today and the temperature keeps dropping. “It’s like you’re giving them a warning signal.”

“Trust me,” Jude says from the back, checking his gun. “They have no idea we’re coming for them today.”

Them is the largest base that we know of other than The Fort. This one is on the outskirts of Columbia in a large middle school. According to Erwin, it’s an active evacuation center about to turn testing lab. Erwin wants the survivors out before testing begins, and apparently because the city of Columbia isn’t cleared, it makes it high risk for everyone. The facility is way too close to the Death Fields to go on much longer.

It’s our biggest mission yet. So far we’ve kept things small and destructive. More of a nuisance than anything else, but this one will get Jane’s attention. Our goal is to take out the entire facility and bring back the Fighters and any personnel. We’ll get to the survivors and loop them in the system at Fort Arnold.

“How many civilians are there?” Paul asks.

Davis glances in the review mirror. “Intel says five hundred. It’s a big school, surrounded by a lot of property and a fortified fence. It’s how they’ve managed to keep going for so long.”

“And they’re untrained?”

“It looks like this facility is used similarly to PharmaCorp when we were there. Survivors are processed and given jobs based on their skills. Some filter into the Fighter training program, others are assigned to keep the facility running. Then a small portion that meet criteria are separated for the Hybrid program. The remaining people are scheduled for testing but as far as we know they haven’t begun.”

“That’s a lot of people to handle,” Jude says, looking out the window. There’s nothing but countryside flashing by.

“Erwin gave us a hundred soldiers. We can do this.”

There’s no doubt we’re in over our head, but Davis is commanding our team while other officers take the lead with the soldiers. Our team’s goal is very specific: take control and hold the main office.

We’re in position just before daybreak. From our experience at The Fort, this is the slow part of the day. The guards change at 6 am, after that the majority of the facility is either in the housing area or eating breakfast.

“Each team will secure a particular area. There’s the gym, cafeteria, classroom wings, and the main office. We’re going for the administration building where documentation of their testing and protocol is held. The larger units will secure the other buildings,” Davis reminds us as we ready our weapons. We’ll stay in the truck as long as possible and move in once we get the signal.

The night is apocalypse-quiet but in the faint daylight I spot five crows alight on the fence surrounding the school. They’re silent but alive. Waiting like spectators before a big game. I check my watch. We’re already behind schedule. I’m about to suggest we call on the Walkie for an update when we hear the first explosion.

“Okay, they’re starting,” Jude says with a nod.  The second explosion goes off two minutes later and Davis starts up the truck. When we get to the gate we’re hoping only a skeleton crew will be there since the majority will be forced toward the explosions, but no one’s there.

“The fence line is empty,” Paul confirms.

Cole leans out the back window. “It’s not just the fence line,” he says. “It’s the whole freaking fence. It’s gone.”

I stare at him for a second. It’s the first time he’s spoken all day after fighting bitterly last night to stay back with Parker, who is recovering slowly, but positively, from her wound. Davis shut his arguments down, claiming we needed a medic with us on the field. I’d nearly forgotten he was here.

“Can you see anything else?” Paul asks.

“No, it’s too dark. It just looks deserted.”

The Walkie sputters to life in my hands and I hear the voice of another team leader. “The facility is under attack.”

I press the button on the side. “Who’s attacking? Hybrids?”

“Eaters. Dozens, if not more. They’ve surrounded the gymnasium.”

“Are the civilians compromised?”

“They’re holding them off but our arrival spooked them. We’re engaged.”

“What’s your position?” I ask.

“We’re--” the transmission breaks. So I ask again.

“What’s your position?”

In the distance another bomb goes off, this one large enough to shake the ground under our feet. I press the speaker to my ear and hear, “…fighting for our lives.”

“They’re under attack,” I tell the others. “We’ve got to help them.”

“That’s not our mission, Alex,” Davis says. “We’re not here to get into battles we can avoid.”

Out the window, a single crow separates from the flock and flies away from the school, as if sensing danger. I turn to face my teammates. “We can’t lose these people. Any of them. Otherwise Jane wins. We have to come back with as many physically able bodies as possible.”

“Alex is right,” Paul says, guns ready in both his hands. “We can’t leave these people behind. Not again. They survived the first phase of the apocalypse. We need to make sure they survive the second.”

“To Jane, they’re nothing but collateral damage,” I say. I consider Wyatt’s story about the creation of the virus and how it escaped. Sheer arrogance on my sister’s part. “That’s how we got into this whole mess in the first place.”

The car is silent for a beat but then Jude hits the back of Davis’ seat and says, “Then let’s do this.”

Davis revs the engine and rolls forward, leaving the road and crossing over the downed gates. The drive toward the school curves and that’s when we see them.

Bodies.

Many are dead—most dressed in my sister’s signature uniform, Fighter black. They lie lifeless and bleeding out on the grassy area between the driveway and school. Others are alive but it’s clear the infection is taking over. Davis steers the truck past them and follows the drive to the front of the school.

“The gymnasium is in the back,” Cole says.

We gather our weapons and I make a final attempt to contact Erwin back at base. The com units can only transmit so far but I give it a shot. If we make it through the day, we’ll need reinforcements to get everyone back to Arnold safely.

Another explosion rocks the ground, rattling the truck windows. Everyone flinches. Jude curses and adds, “They need to watch out or they’ll blow a hole in the side of the building, screwing everyone.”

“Incoming,” Cole says pointing out the back window. The freshly infected followed us in, their intensity and rage growing with each fumbling step. We spring into position; Paul and Jude push through the opening on top of the truck, guns ready. I wiggle out the window until I’m sitting on the edge. We’re too far away to get a good shot.

“Keep moving—fast,” I tell Davis, squashing the growing feeling that this was a terrible idea. “Let’s go help the others.”

*

My ears ring from gunshots and the blast of exploding grenades. I hear nothing as the Eater charges, teeth bared and nails ragged and sharp. I’m thankful for the temporary deafness, because I hate the way they sound, and when she’s inches away I pop her square in the forehead with the butt of my hatchet before running to the building and pressing my back against the wall.

“This was a freaking awful idea,” I mumble to myself, checking my bullets. Half a clip, which isn’t enough. Two more infected catch my scent and I reach for my hatchet again to save the bullets for later.

“God, you smell,” I tell one, gagging and swinging the ax at the same time. His head droops to the side, although not unattached. I kick him toward the other one, who’s looking at me like lunch, and make him trip. He falls forward and I split his skull in two, like a melon.

“There’s too many,” Jude says as he runs past. He sounds like he’s underwater.

“Less though, right?” I shout back optimistically.

He makes a face but doesn’t answer, instead stabbing a howling elderly woman in the eye who ran in our direction in a way she probably hadn’t been able to in years. Jude blinks at her body and whispers something under his breath.

“What?” I shout.

“Just saying a prayer for my grandmother. I hope she’s dead, you know?”

A streak runs past us, kicking an Eater in the face and using him and an air conditioning unit as momentum to scale the side of the building parkour-style. At the top, Paul’s face peeks over the side, with his rifle directed on the fight behind us. He fires and I spin to see the target and come face-to-face with my own problem.

“Shit,” I breathe, not feeling sorry about cursing but mentally apologizing to my mother anyway.

My words are drowned out by the all-too-familiar howling scream filtering through my recovering hearing. I stumble backwards, falling over the bodies of the two Eaters I just killed, before this one gets his hands on my arm. Jude is already battling his own set of monsters, unable to help.

“You can’t hurt me,” I tell him with false bravado, twisting to get away. Sure, he can’t infect me—but he sure as hell can kill me. His black eyes don’t acknowledge me anyway, but his mouth does and his teeth chomp dangerously close to my face. I fall backwards over the bodies and land hard, cracking my head on the pavement, and my teeth snap together.

The fall does get me out of the Eater’s grip and looking to my left and right, there’s no out. Just the dead, glassy-eyed bodies of the ones I just killed. He screams again, bony arms and fingers gripping my arms. I level the hatchet between our heads, the cold metal pressing down on my face—the sharp side facing out.

“Jude!” I scream.

Two more bony, desperate hands grab my ankles, tugging at my boots.

I scream and scream and scream.

The Eater in my face hisses through clenched teeth, drool dripping from his jaw onto my chin. I just keep screaming, even when his head snaps back and a dark hole appears in his forehead. The one at my feet grows still, heavy against my boots.

I struggle to get up and away from the dead body that lays heavy over my torso, and watch as two more fall before Jude makes contact. We look at one another and then glance upward. Paul gives us a nod.

I’ve never been so glad to have a super soldier on my side before.

I spy a break in the fighting, through the dust, and spot an alcove connecting the buildings. I need a minute to catch my breath and I know Jude does as well. I gesture to the space and make a run for it.

“It’s not over yet,” Jude says when we’re inside. It’s a small back entrance of some kind, and I lean against the wall, dizzy, and touch the back of my head. It’s pounding from hitting the pavement. He notices my condition and says, “Let me see.”

Blood appears on my hand and I promise, “It looks and feels worse than it is.” But I’m not sure. My vision is blurry and I really feel like I need a nap.

“You can’t go back out there, Alex.  I think you need to step back,” he says, worry lines next to his eyes. “I’ll find Cole and send him your way.

I nod, or at least I try to, but everything feels thick and heavy. “I’ll wait here.”

He helps me to the corner so my back is against the wall, and I sit helplessly when he positions a gun in my hands. “Don’t you dare fall asleep,” he warns.

The minutes tick by in a haze of fog. Everything sounds far away, like I’m just outside of the fighting. Occasionally a voice pops through, or a snarl, and I jerk awake, forcing my eyes open. My gun is shaky in my hands. I’m not sure what’s real or not real—shadows creep into the edges of my eyes.

I point the gun.

“I see you,” I whisper. “I’ll shoot.”

The response is silence.

Apocalypse silence.

I get on my hands and knees and walk toward the opening—toward the light. A figure comes into view. A halo of gold.

“You came!” I say, breaking down into irrational sobs. I feel so weird. He moves closer and I squint. “I’m hurt.”

He’s almost to me and I breathe relief, reaching for his hand. Our fingers touch, cold meeting hot.  A scream pierces the fog and the world explodes, brick and dirt raining down from the sky. A shadow emerges from the edges and I can’t run to or away from it if I wanted to. The world rumbles beneath my feet and I fall back into an endless cloud of darkness.

Chapter 12

My arms weigh a thousand pounds. My head at least twice that. The ground beneath me is hard—cold—at least under my legs. Under my throbbing head it’s softer. Warmer.

I blink and feel a hand on my forehead. The touch is gentle.

“Cole?” I mumble, trying to remember where I am or who I’m with.

“Hey, just rest,” the voice says above me. I blink again and lift my hand to my face to rub my eyes. A single window high on the wall allows in daylight.

A face comes into view. He’s right above me—or I realize quickly I’m resting on him—his lap my soft pillow.  His beard is longer—hair shaggier. His hazel eyes pierce mine and I don’t have the energy to be mad.

“Wyatt? What’s going on?” I groan and close my eyes. Just speaking hurts. “Where are we?”

“Shhh,” he smooths my hair and I flinch when he gets too close to the wound. “Sorry. Erwin’s team got in a tight spot and launched some kind of rocket right at the corner you were holed up in. I pulled you in the back door of the school just before the walls caved in. We’re stuck in a tiny corner of the science wing, but I haven’t found a way to get out without crushing us.”

That’s a lot of information to take in. “We’re trapped?”

“For now.”

I have no doubt that he has a plan but my brain hurts too much to ask about it further. I do have one question, though. “How did you get here?”

“I’ve been stationed here for a couple weeks.”

Weeks? “That’s what you’ve been doing since you tied me up in that house.”

“You didn’t give me much choice. You tried to kick me in the balls. Twice.”

I want to laugh, but my head hurts too much. “If I was stronger I’d kick your ass right now for that shady crap you pulled with my father. You could have just told me. No need for all the games.”

A smile ghosts over his lips. “I know. You can pay me back later, just rest for now.”

My eyes flutter closed in agreement.

*

The next time I wake up, my head is resting on a balled-up shirt. I’m able to get to a sitting position and find Wyatt stripped down to a white tank undershirt, pacing under the window of the tight space. The window is over the door and the faint sunlight streaking through make his dark hair look a shade lighter than it normally does. A thick piece of metal, bent at the top and bottom, seems to be holding the whole room from crashing down. Crumbled brick and pieces of the ceiling pile along the floor. The angle of the light makes me think daylight is fading.

“Hey,” I say, my throat is dry and my voice weak.

He looks back and frowns. “I’ve got some water.”

That’s when I notice his backpack—he doesn’t go anywhere without it--and feel a small sense of relief. He’ll have a small amount of supplies in there to at least get us through the next day or so. He offers me a metal bottle, the cap unscrewed. It’s not as heavy with water as I’d like so I only take a small sip, just to clear the dust from my throat.

He rummages around and holds out his hand. Two small pills are nestled in his calloused, dusty palm. “Take those for your head.”

I swallow the pills with more water and watch him. It’s hard not to get caught up in his physicality. He’s lean but muscular. He has a fiery red scrape arcing over his bicep and another small, clotting cut near his collarbone.  The hollow of his cheeks, like the circles under his eyes, give me the impression he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in days.

“What’s happening here, Wyatt?” I ask.

He looks around the space, still kneeling by the bag. “I’m looking for a way to get out of here without the whole ceiling collapsing on top of us.”

I grab his arm and he looks down at me. “No, why are you here? For real? Whose side are you on?”

I’d be a fool if I expected a straight answer, but to his credit he replies, “I’ve been out here for a couple weeks prepping the team to transition from evacuation center to vaccine distribution. I knew you guys were coming in, but we didn’t anticipate the Eater attack. At all.”

I open one eye and squint. “You knew we were coming?”

He stands and moves to the side of the space that leads back down the hallway. From here it looks entirely impassible.

“Of course I knew.”

“Did Jane know?” He shifts a beam and a wave of ceiling rushes to the ground. We both look up and wait, but nothing else falls. I ask again. “Did she?”

My head is killing me. From the fall. From Wyatt. I drop my forehead into my hands.

“Hey,” he says. He’s in front of me, on his knees, taking my hands in his. “You okay?

“No, Wyatt, I’m not okay.” I jerk away from him and make a very labored, mistaken effort to stand. I fail and sit back down with my arms crossed over my chest. “Jane made the right decision when she chose you for her model, you know that? You’re nothing but a robot. Going from mission to mission, deal to deal, with no consideration for anyone else. There’s no end game. No good or bad guys. It’s just Wyatt versus The World, and God forbid those who get in your way and expect a little honesty.”

“Is that right?”

“You told me yourself this is what you’re made for. War.”

He knees in front of me, jaw tense. “You’ve gotten pretty good at it, too, since we first met. Don’t think I’m not aware of your little resistance. The sabotage and internal destruction. She sent me out here as punishment, for letting you escape last month—for the shit you’ve pulled since then.”

I scoff. “Why does she blame you?”

He stares at me, hard, and I squirm under the glare. “You think you got away on your own? You think you made it here without assistance?” He leans closer and I can see the flecks of green in his hazel eyes. “You think I’m not your fairy fucking Godmother? I may not have wings but let me tell you, I’m the best ally you have out here.”

“Don’t do me any favors.”

He frowns and shakes his head. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

I sigh. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say. I don’t get you, Wyatt. That’s what I don’t understand. I’m not intentionally trying to be dense.”

I sway, my head swimming from pain. He reaches for me and places one hand on the back of my neck and another around my waist. I expect his touch to be rough, like his attitude, but it’s not. His hands are supportive but gentle.

“You sister is punishing me for my connection to you. She has no idea I’m working with Erwin and that I have been for months. She doesn’t know I’m your contact in the PharmaCorp system and that I’ve been feeding your teams intel for weeks. She was pissed after I got back with your father and didn’t have you with me. She may be cold and vindictive and a little out of her fucking mind, but she’s not dumb. She knows I care for you.”

His confession whirls around my brain and I get hung up on various parts. The big one—at least at this very moment, when his hand tense against my back and his mouth is so very close—is the one about feelings.

“I can’t—I can’t be with you at Fort Arnold right now. Not the way things are. I’m better served undercover anyway. Out there,” he gestures beyond the crumbling walls. “We’re not on the same team even if we’re fighting the same battle. I’m the mercenary. You’re the Resistance.”

“But what about in here? Right now?” I ask, as though my brain can’t keep up.

He takes my head into both hands and gives me sweet smile, before his expression turns into something different. Primal. My fingers grip the fabric of his shirt and I lean closer.

I think he may do it, for the briefest moment, but the look vanishes and he gives me a sad smile. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut as well as in the back of the head, but I shouldn’t expect more.

Can Wyatt even navigate feelings like this? No, I think, as he struggles in front of me. Not with a battle raging on outside these doors.

He looks at his watch, the face glowing green. “Davis should be here in twenty minutes, after that, the war continues.” His jaw tenses. “Out there you belong to someone else. Someone I call a friend.”

Ouch.

Make that a double punch in the gut.

“What about in here?”

“In here you’re injured and you need someone to take care of you.”  He shifts and moves so that my back is flush against his chest. I feel his heartbeat pulse in tandem to mine. “Right now, I’m all you’ve got.”

I can’t argue with that or the way he feels next to me. The way my body curls into his.

"Rest,” he says. “They’ll be here soon.”

I start to tell him to piss off, that I can take care of myself, but I feel his fingers graze my arms and I grow sleepy again. I look up at his face, tanned from the sun. His broad brow is etched with lines created by wars.  I see the man who has risked so much to protect me. I may not exactly know where his heart lies and I may never will, but if I’ve learned anything today it’s that I can trust him—that Wyatt Faraday is on my side, which means we may have a chance to win this thing.

Chapter 13

Davis locates us as predicted but it’s another thirty minutes before they extract us safely. While I’m caught in a web of emotions from Wyatt’s revelations, he makes like a ninja, disappearing the instant we’re free. I’m sure Davis sees him take off, but there’s a dozen soldiers helping me get clear of the shaky structure before it collapses on all of us. Wyatt simply fades into the dark, like he’d never been here at all.

“Alex!” I hear my name and turn to find Cole waiting for me. He’s got a medical kit in his hand and a hard, angry expression on his face.

Add guilt to my web of emotions.

“I’m so sorry. Jude said he left you under that alcove and then the rocket hit and it took us hours to clear the area. You must have been terrified.” He peers around the side of my head, looking at the dried blood of my wound.

Yeah, terrified didn’t make the list. It’s hard to be scared when Wyatt’s around. Well, at least scared of my surroundings.

“I’m okay. Just tired and my head is killing me.”

“Come over here and let me take a look at it.”

We walk through the rubble and Erwin’s men. Two large buses idle in the driveway and a line of survivors waits to fill each one. I see dust-coated children standing along men and women of all ages. Wyatt told me that the Eater attack may have been a surprise blessing. It will keep the size of the assault by the Resistance from Jane for a bit longer. “So despite everything, we actually accomplished our mission?”

Cole gestures for me to sit on the tailgate of a truck. He removes a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton balls from inside his kit. I turn and face the wreckage of the building and fight a hiss when he carefully cleans my hair and wound. “Our team made it out safely, but some of Erwin’s unit suffered casualties. Mostly from the beginning of the fight—the sheer number of Eaters was more than they could handle. Others were bitten or had minor scrapes or scratches, but it seems like the vaccine is working. Just like with Parker.”

“Good.”

He finishes up with the back of my head and moves his hand under my chin. He grazes his thumb just under my mouth and says, “Your skin is irritated. It must have happened during the explosion.”

The soft stroke of his finger feels the opposite of the Wyatt’s calloused ones and I turn away. “I blacked out. I don’t remember much at all, other than coming in and out some.”

“You were lucky.”

Like I had a fairy godmother out here or something, I want to say, but I swallow back the words. We watch two Fighters carry a dead soldier’s body in a sheet, the weight forcing it to sway back and forth like a hammock. We’ll bury him back at Arnold. I search the area. “You said everyone else from the team is okay?”

“Yep. Jude and Paul are down with the survivor transport. Davis should be finishing up.” He packs up his supplies and hops off the back of the truck. “Here, let me help you into the truck. You’re looking a little green.”

He wraps his arm around me for support and I lean into him, feeling warmth and safety; like I truly have someone out here in this crazy mess. Sure I know Wyatt has my back, but Cole, despite his grief and guilt, is still with me. In this moment I think maybe it’s possible for us to beat back the challenges that face two people at the end of modern civilization. This world, the one out here that everyone can see, is real. Our feelings and actions are real. They’re not cloaked under darkness and opportunity.

Cole, with his intense brain and kind heart, is still with me.

I ease into my seat and my muscles cry in relief. I smile at Cole. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”

“Never,” he says, squeezing my hand, giving me a glimpse of the man I’ve come to know. “I’m sorry I’ve been moody and distant lately. I’m just having a hard time reconciling the reality of our situation, you know?”

“I definitely know. I won’t give up on you if you won’t give up on me. You come to me when you’re having a problem, deal?”

“Deal.” He presses his lips to mine, sealing the pact. I won’t give up on Cole any more than I’ll stop my fight against Jane and her army. I’ll just have to find a balance between the two, for his sanity and my own.

*

The Fort Arnold medical team puts me on bed rest for the next week. The concussion is severe, along with a significant case of dehydration. The timing isn’t bad since Erwin is in the process of integrating the civilians from the school into his army, but when I get the ‘okay’ from the doctor, I’m ready.

“They gave you the go-ahead?” Parker asks when I get back to the room. She’s making her bed with extreme focus.  She’s fully healed from her bite, but Erwin and Davis agreed she’d be better right now with the incoming civilians than in the field.

“They did,” I say and hold up a note. “With orders to go straight to Erwin’s office.”

“They don’t waste any time around here do they.”

“Nope.”

There’s a third bed in our room now, and Josie’s sparse belongings are piled at the end. I nod at the space. “She down in the lab?”

“Probably. You’d think she’d be more like Paul and steer clear, but she seems to prefer it.”

I roll my eyes. “Her and Cole. I’ve barely seen him since we got back from the mission.”

She sits on the now-made bed. “Yeah, so what’s going on with that? With you guys?”

I shrug. “We’re okay. Why?”

“You seem different, or at least he does, I guess. He’s still nice and supportive but there’s a distance or something.” She quickly adds, “Not that it’s any of my business.”

“He’s struggling with his role in this whole mess, I guess. He worked with my father from the beginning. I don’t know if he feels guilty or responsible. Then there’s the whole thing with Chloe.” My sister may be a crazy megalomaniac, but I didn’t share a womb with her. “He probably feels like he lost part of himself.”

“I can’t imagine.”

“No, me either. And he’s not talking about it much either, even though I asked him to talk to me. I think his solution is to throw himself into science.”

She wrinkles her nose. “That sounds like an awful solution.”

When I can’t avoid it any longer, I follow the orders and go to Erwin’s office. He’s standing over his desk, studying a large map spread across the surface. He glances up when I enter and gives me an approving nod. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah, me too.” I don’t mention the lingering headaches. I point at the color coded map. “What’s this?”

“This is the breakdown of the southern states as far as we know.” He points to a green section—mostly the Appalachians down to Columbia, South Carolina. Another green patch circles the city and suburbs of Atlanta, sliding into Alabama. “The green represents the Death Fields still teeming with Eaters.”

I search for Augusta, and it and the surrounding area all the way to the coast are a shade of light blue. “These areas are clear?”

“Yes, and under your sister’s rule.”

I lean over the desk and search for Tennessee, the part where Fort Arnold is located. There’s a small section of red. “That’s us.”

“Yes, that’s the Resistance.”

The school outside of Columbia is now red, as well as other dots along the way. I recognize the locations for factories and small towns Erwin has systematically had us target for the last month. “We have a long way to go before we’re even a blip on her radar,” I acknowledge.

He smiles ruefully. “That’s why we’ve decided to up our strategy. Not to get on her radar, but we can’t keep going at this pace forever. We have to have some big gains. We’re in the tactical stages of planning to attack the vaccination center outside of Augusta.”

His words drop like a bomb. “I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s the biggest and most well-run facility, other than The Fort itself. It’s time we cut off Jane’s right arm.”

“But we were based there.” We know those people, I want to add, but bite my tongue. “The entire area is cleared from Eaters. It’s well defended by Fighters and I’m sure now Hybrids.”

“Yes, Hybrids,” he says, leaning over with his hands flat on the surface of the desk. “Do you think your old cohorts are pleased with that situation? That they want to be ruled by a group of monsters?”

I think of Amber, a nurse who worked in quarantine and had a big crush on Wyatt, plus all the other medical staff that manned the clinics and distributed inoculations. I try not to think of Hayes, one of the Fighters we thought was on our side, and the way he betrayed us to Chloe and Jane. “No, I don’t think they’d want that.”

“Then it’s our duty to make the vaccine center our next priority.”

I sigh and lean back in my seat. He’s right. “When do we leave?”

“Five days,” he says. “We’ll have to be well prepared, not only for the travel down there but for every possibility. This will be our first organized attempt at taking down a full unit of Hybrids.” He must sense what my response to this is because he adds, “Expect casualties, Ms. Ramsey. It’s part of being a soldier.”

“I understand.” An idea pops into my head and I toss it out there. “Can I make one request?”

He looks up from the map. “You can make it but I won’t guarantee anything.”

“Can the Resistance make finding and rescuing my father a priority?”

Erwin lifts an eyebrow. “You think he isn’t already?”

His reply fills me with relief and I nod. “Thank you.”

“Your team has already started preparations, Alexandra,” he says, going back to studying the map, his fingers now lingering in the expansive yellow section that surrounds the south in every direction. “I suggest you find them and get up to speed.”

*

The only member of my team that I find is Davis, and he’s cataloguing weapons in the armory. I want to think it’s for the mission but I’m pretty sure he just likes to hang out in here.

“You’re looking a little better,” he says when I walk in the room. Fort Arnold’s armory isn’t as high tech as Jane’s underground R&D room but it’s pretty well stocked, particularly after a few raids to boost supplies.

“Thanks.” I pick up a bullet from the pile and roll it between my fingers. “Erwin just gave me our next assignment. Think we can do it?”

“I think so. It’s not going to be easy, but sooner or later Jane’s going to come after us. Dismantling that outpost is necessary.”

“I guess I’d forgotten about the big picture,” I reply. It’s easier to keep people safe in small, quiet missions. We didn’t realize that last one would go so badly, but eventually we have to make a specific effort to take out Jane’s larger holdings.

“It’s easy to forget about the war when you’re caught up in smaller battles.” He smiles. “That’s why we have a General. Hey, hand me that box?”

I pass him the box of ammunition and watch him make a notation on a notepad. I take a deep breath and then ask, “So was Wyatt telling me the truth?”

The pen hesitates over the pad for a brief second before Davis begins writing again. “Depends on what he said.”

“That he’s helping us and working against my sister.”

“We have people on the inside assisting us in our cause. Wyatt is one of those people.”

I spin the bullet and the gold glints in the light. “He told me…he gave me some reasons about why he can’t be here with us. About what’s going on with him, and I just don’t know…” My face heats.

Davis puts down his pen and looks at me. I liked it better when he was focused on his job, because he’s massive and the full force of his attention is intimidating.  He runs his hands over his face, looking as uncomfortable as I feel.

“Never mind,” I say, turning to leave. He grabs me by my shoulder and slowly turns me around.

“Wyatt isn’t a complicated man. He’s a soldier—a good one. He’s spent his life working around a strong set of values and systems that have helped him keep himself and others alive.”

“I know. He’s told me.”

“Living in this type of world doesn’t faze him. It’s just one long battle. It suits him, but…”

Nerves flare in my stomach and I want to run. “But what?”

“Every fight has an outlier—a snafu—something that can’t be expected or planned for. That’s what he’s struggling with and it will take him some time to work through it.”

“I can’t imagine what it would take to throw Wyatt off.”

Davis shakes his head. “Exactly. He didn’t see you coming, either.”

Chapter 14

We spend the next four days packing for the long road trip. The journey from Chattanooga to Augusta will be the farthest any of us has traveled on the road in months, and everyone is on edge. We’ll skirt around Atlanta, everything we’ve heard says it’s overrun, and stick as close to the cleared areas as possible. There’s no doubt we will spend at least one day traveling through the Death Fields and we need to be prepared.

Our packs are loaded down with everything we’ll need from camping gear to food, and of course, weapons. The teams will head out separately, going various routes so as not to appear noticeable or allowing ourselves to be a target of Jane’s soldiers or the Eaters. In the garage before we leave, I spread the road map across the table and trace the zig-zagging course I’ve designed.

“We’re keeping off the highways. Erwin’s flown over the city and he says the car backup goes for miles so there’s no way to take a direct shot,” I explain. “Instead, we’ll take back roads as far as we can. It’s not the most efficient route but hopefully the least deadly.”

“Does anyone else feel like this is a suicide mission? Not just taking on the Vaccine Center, but the journey itself?” Jude asks, looking across the table. I don’t expect a reaction from Davis but do wait for a reply from Cole or Paul, even Parker, but no one says a word. I realize that Jude’s not talking about the fight ahead but getting there. Only Cole knows what it’s like to travel for weeks on the road like this.

“You see these dots?” I say, pointing to the map. “If we stick to our schedule, those are the areas we’ll look for somewhere to rest up.

One of Erwin’s officers in charge of the vehicle fleet points us to the truck we’re taking. It’s not military—but a large, black SUV. He points out the extra supplies packed. “There are four tanks of gas in the back and under the seats I hid extra ammo and guns. Hopefully that’s enough.”

“Thanks.”

“Good luck out there,” he says, patting the back of the car.

Cole steps next to me as I stash my bag in the back. His blonde hair is tucked beneath a black stocking cap, accentuating the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw.

“Do you think this is suicide?” I ask.

“I don’t think there’s much we do these days that isn’t a risk,” he replies, securing a zipper. “Sacrifice is the currency we trade in now. You should know that.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

He reaches up and closes the heavy back door of the SUV. “You sacrificed your mother for your mission. Jude took his parents out for his own survival. Paul by force.” He inhales sharply. “Chloe paid with her soul.”

“We’ll get her back. She’s not lost to us. I refuse to believe that.”

His eyes grow cold and stormy. “My point is that risk is the only currency we have right now. It’s what we have to do to stay in the game. Look at Wyatt. Even that selfish bastard has paid heavily.”

“Wyatt?” I’m increasingly confused.

He laughs darkly. “I’m not an idiot, Alex.”

“I never said you were—and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Wyatt is playing a deadly game as a double-agent right now for something he thinks is worth the risk.” He adjusts his cap, tugging it down over his ears. “All I’m saying is that before this mission is over, someone will pay Jane’s price. If I have my way, it will be me.”

*

“This road has been a disaster,” Parker grumbles next to me.

“I know. Sorry,” I say for the tenth time this hour. We got seventy miles away from the base and came to a complete standstill. “I just didn’t expect this.”

At some point, I assume early on, survivors camped out in a sprawling athletic park just outside the town of Greenville. A chain link fence surrounds the former baseball fields and the remains of tents and other abandoned camping supplies litter the area.

That’s not really the issue, though. The problem comes from the infected roaming the area. They’re slow moving, bone thin, and not the biggest threat we’ve come across. There’s just a freaking ton of them.

“Have you seen anything like this before?” Paul asks. His expression is one of befuddlement. It’s definitely an odd sight. A sea of brain dead infected just waiting to be put out of their misery.

“We suspected the bodies would eventually decay and fall apart,” Cole says from the middle row. “Their bodies are overtaken by the parasite and as long as they find something—or someone—to eat, they’ll keep going, but weather and body composition do come into play.”

Jude looks out the SUV window. “It looks like it’s been a long time since these guys had something to eat.”

They amble down the road, clogging nearly every available space. Lumped in groups against old storefronts and under the gas station awning. They appear to have little energy, mostly ignoring our moving vehicle altogether. Davis drives slowly, their bodies bouncing off the sides of the car. Through the window, I hear their typical howls are replaced with low, whimpering cries.

“This is a nightmare,” Parker says, covering her eyes. “A literal nightmare.”

It’s not a nightmare but a harsh flash of our possible future.

Davis tries to turn the corner. It’s completely clogged with apathetic bodies. The tendons on his neck clench with annoyance and he mutters, “Get out of the road, moron.”

I bite back a laugh and add in ranty voice, “Where’d you learn to walk? Your grandma?”

Without warning, Paul rolls down the second row window and shoves his knife into an Eater’s head. An ungodly odor fills the car as the victim gasps and falls to the ground. I hold my nose and Parker pulls her shirt up over her face and fights a gag. He does it again and again, like shooting fish in a barrel, until Davis overrides the window control and rolls it back up.

“What?” Paul asks. “I was releasing some stress.”

“Disgusting,” Jude says, although I think he’s jealous he’s not next to the window.

“How long do you think this is going to take?” Parker asks, shifting around her seat. Between the Eaters and Paul’s shenanigans and Davis’ tension, the car ride is getting to everyone. “Because it feels like it’s been forever.”

“God, you sound like my kids.” All eyes snap to the driver’s seat. His hands clench around the steering wheel and from the set of his jaw everyone knows better than to pursue it.

But yeah, Davis just revealed he has—or had—kids, and for better or worse, that truth bomb gets everyone to shut up.

*

We wasted so many hours passing through Eater Town (yes, we named it) that our next stop was not where I’d planned it. There’s nothing in this area but abandoned apple orchards and dilapidated bar-b-que shacks, so we settle on an old farmhouse converted into an art gallery-slash-antique store. It’s tucked up on a hill and definitely has a haunted house feel to it, but I’m not willing to sleep in a place that reeks of rotting pork, so it seems like an okay place to stay. Antiques don’t have much of a barter value post-apoc. I mean, there’s only so many uses for a stack of mismatched hubcaps.

“At least the windows are already boarded up,” Jude says.

Parker presses her nose against the window. “There’s literally nothing else around here. They probably went out of business years ago.”

Davis pulls the truck around the back of the house so it’s not visible from the road and we do a quick sweep of the outside. The front has a funky vibe, an old claw foot bathtub filled with metal folk-art flowers. Stacks of rusted Coca-Cola signs lean against the porch next to a pile of bicycle wheels. A peeling swing hangs still from chains and Jude nudges it when we pass, making it sway back and forth with a disturbing creak.

Davis approaches the door and raps on it twice. We wait in silence, but there’s no sound but the squeaky swing.

“Seems okay,” he says, twisting the door knob. It’s locked, but a quick hammer with the butt of my hatchet knocks it loose. The door swings open, releasing the scent of dusty books and old, stale fabric locked up for too long.

I follow Davis in and feel like I’ve stepped into a time capsule. Artifacts from another life are piled on every surface; vases, figurines, and jewelry. There are boxes of postcards and license plates stacked in crates on the floor, and large metal airplanes hanging from the ceiling. I’m immediately crushed with feelings of loss and nostalgia.

“Hey, we had one of these,” Paul says, pointing to a small, rusted fire truck perched in the corner. “It was my dad’s when he was a kid.”

We split into pairs and sweep the first floor, squeezing past boxes, china cabinets and racks of clothes. Parker and I pass through the former dining room and then the kitchen, working our way to the enclosed back porch. She steps carefully into the room filled with glass windows—an overly exposed nightmare of a room—but jerks back suddenly. I crash into her but manage not to knock into anything.

“Dude,” I say, but she covers my mouth with her hand. Gesturing ahead she whispers, “There’s someone in there.”

“Human or Eater?” I mouth.

She shrugs. I lean past her and sure enough, a person is pressed against the back wall, partially hidden behind a stack of cardboard boxes. If there’s one person or Eater there could always be more. But we don’t kill humans—at least not for hiding in their own homes. I glance down and see a basket of cassette tapes and pick up the one on top. The bearded, faded face of Willie Nelson stares back.

Parker levels her gun and I count to three loud enough for her to hear and toss it in the direction of the person. I flinch when it lands, clattering against a box and onto the hard floor. We’ve got our guns aimed but nothing happens. The figure is silent.

“Cover me,” I say. We can’t play this game forever.

I tiptoe into the room, stepping over a coil of rope. The person is wearing an old Falcon’s jersey and has a mop of dirty brown hair sticking out from under a baseball cap.  I don’t see a weapon as I come up behind them and press my hatchet against their neck.

“Turn around,” I say. “Hands where I can see them.”

Again, there’s no movement, and panic mixed with confusion rolls over me but I take a deep, dusty breath and spin the person around by the shoulder. The hat and the hair both fall to the ground and I jump back with a high-pitched yelp.

“Oh my God,” Parker declares, snorting back laughter.

I’m eye to eye with dirty, cracked-faced mannequin with powder blue eye shadow and pale pink lips. I kick the wig with my toe, flinging it into the corner.

“Shut up,” I bite, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I turn and spot not only Parker but Jude grinning over her shoulder. I hold my hatchet up. “Not a word. Not a single word.”

*

“You know in Harry Potter when Harry, Ron, and Hermione go on the run and Hermione has that purse that’s really a magical suitcase—“

Davis cuts me off. “Like Mary Poppin’s bag?”

“Yes, like that,” I continue. “I wish we had one of those.”

“I wish we had magic for all kinds of things,” Parker mutters from her spot on the couch, stabbing her finger into the tin plate in her lap. We’ve made a lumpy nest of chairs and cushions, passing around our dinner rations. Erwin has, for now, a massive supply of MREs, which are not great but are better than scavenging around for food.

“If you could pick one thing,” Paul asks, obviously liking this topic, “what would you put in a magic bag?”

“Unlimited ammo,” Davis says without hesitation.

Jude goes next. “A magical refrigerator with cold drinks and food inside. And ice. I miss ice.”

“A bed,” Parker says, her eyes taking on a dreamy shine. “No, a really warm blanket. No, clean socks. Unlimited clean socks. No. Wait. Can I say a shower? Because right now several of you could use a shower and I’m happy to share.”

Jude throws a pillow at her and she squeals when it lands smack in her face. She tosses it back, but misses, hitting Paul on the ear. His eyes narrow and he grabs two stuffed animals from the shelf behind him and pegs Parker in the chest.

“No fair,” she shouts, scooping up the small bean bag-sized dolls. “Alex, help me!”

I’m about to come to her defense, lifting my own cushion, but I’m tackled and held down by Cole’s strong arms.

“You’re on their side?” I ask, with a huff.

“Bros before…well, you know.” I roll my eyes. He can’t even say it.

I scramble and manage to get out of his grip. The entire nest is now one big pillow fight (except for Davis who moved to the side to continue eating) and I take advantage of the fray to attack Cole. I throw the two stuffed animals I’m holding at him, one gets him in the neck, the other he snatches out of the air. He then grabs the whole basket of bean-filled animals off the floor and eyes me like a target.

“Don’t you dare—”

He hits me square in chest.

“Cole—”

Thwack. Again. I search for my own weapon but the others are in a pile of laughter on the ground and the pillows are scattered under their bodies. I look up again and Cole gives me a tiny smirk.

My next move is because I have to. I take the coward’s way out. I run.

The antique shop is laid out like a maze, rows and rows of furniture and display cases dividing out the space. I travel down one, listening for the sound of Cole’s boots on the hardwoods—he’s headed other direction. I dash off again, tripping over a rolled up rug and steadying myself on a sunglasses rack. The plastic frames clatter to the floor. I freeze and mutter a curse when his boots start my way.  I search for a place to hide, eventually settling on a 1950s style chrome and Formica kitchen table. I get down on my hands and knees and squeeze beneath the chairs, keeping an eye out on the direction he’s coming from. Then I’ll jump out and attack.

The room grows still, other than the faint sound of my friends laughing and talking in the other side of the shop. I hold my breath, knowing he’s near—waiting for the scuffed brown of his boots to appear.  A minute passes and I think maybe Cole’s given up on our game and I’m foolishly hiding beneath a kitchen table. I inch out from the table on my hands and knees and see nothing but an empty pathway. My shoulders relax and then I hear quietly in my ear, “Found you.”

I scream. I scream louder than I’ve screamed in years. Every Eater in eastern Georgia must hear. Every Hybrid just turned this direction. Cole’s eyes pop wide and he clamps a hand over my mouth. My chest heaves and he yells out, “We’re okay. It’s okay,” so the others don’t race back and attack.

“Holy crap, Cole. You do not do that to people in the apocalypse, okay? What if I’d shot you?”

He looks down at my side. “You’re not carrying a gun.”

I hold up my hands. “These are deadly. I don’t need a gun to hurt you.”

He steps close and loops a finger through my belt, tugging me into his chest. I’m still breathing hard from being scared out of my wits but the closeness calms me.

“Darlin’ I’m well aware that you don’t need a weapon to hurt me.” He stares at my lips, and before he can take this moment somewhere darker, I kiss him. To my relief he kisses me back.

“I’m sorry I’ve been a little distant lately,” he says, wrapping his arms around me.

“A little?”

He tilts his head. “Okay, a lot. It’s just—”

I put my hand on his chest and stop him. “I get it. Things have been hard. Emotionally draining. We’ve both had heavy stuff on our mind and it’s easy to get distracted and weighed down by the things we can’t control.”

Is that my way of apologizing or explaining what happened with Wyatt? I don’t know for sure but it’s the best I can do.

His hand settles on my hip. “For what it’s worth, I’m so very thankful you’re in my life. So thankful that you tolerate me and stick by my side.”

I snort. “It’s not like I’m a piece of cake.”

He sits on the edge of the table and I follow, wedging myself between his legs. He’s too tall this way, but I push up on my toes and press my lips to his again. He kisses me back and it’s sweet and soulful.

I take a moment to sink into him—away from the others and our mission. I take time to appreciate the warmth of Cole’s body, the weight of his hands and feel of his mouth. In moments like this we’re connected—the angst and stress washed away, but like every other moment in our life the good ones end quickly.

This time is no different.

“Patrols start in ten minutes.” Davis voice comes from a distance. “Cole, you have first shift.”

“Got it,” Cole replies, leaning his forehead on mine. “Be there in a minute.”

I play with the shaggy, curling hair on his neck and say, “That was a nice break. Thanks for chasing me.”

“I’ve been chasing you down for a long time now. Don’t think that’ll stop any time soon.”

“No?” I ask, because sometimes I’m really not sure.

With eyes hard as steel he replies, “No.”

Chapter 15

Davis sleeps like the dead, and it’s a testament to how exhausted I am that his snoring doesn’t keep me awake. He’s up the instant Cole comes in to swap shifts, wide-eyed and alert while I feel like I still need another twelve hours.

Cole and Parker take our places in the bed-nest and he gives my hand a squeeze before he lands face first on the still-warm pillows. Parker curls into a ball next to Jude, stealing part the musty afghan he found draped over the bannister in the back of the shop.

I slept with my boots on, an old habit from my early days on the road, and tug on a hoodie over my t-shirt. Fall is rushing toward winter and although there’s the weight of humidity in the air, it’s cool enough outside to see my breath.

“Do you think they’ll slow down in the winter?” I ask Davis, once we’re on the porch. “The Eaters?”

“They may,” he replies after a little thought. “If that scene from earlier today was any indication of how the elements and environment can change them, I’m hopeful maybe they won’t always be a problem.”

“That was weird.” I shiver, a little from the cold but mostly from remembering the clogged streets. “I wonder if that’s what bigger cities are like.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“Me either, but at some point Jane or someone else is going to have to deal with them, don’t you think? It seems like her plan right now is collecting and vaccinating survivors. Phase two must be eradicating the Eaters and reclaiming urban areas.”

I follow Davis down the steps and we walk around the side of the house to check on the SUV and make sure everything’s secure. Other than the sound of a bird calling in the night, the whole world feels still. “So that thing you said earlier,” I say. “About kids…”

“Yeah?” He tugs the back door, testing the lock. “What about them?”

“I didn’t know you had a family.”

He moves away from the door and along the back windows of the sun porch. I spot the mannequin pressed against the window and feel the embarrassment all over again. I think he’s not going to answer me but he finally says, “I had two kids—girls.”

Had.

I have no idea what to say—like, nothing, but to my surprise he continues. “My girlfriend got pregnant in high school. She was seventeen, I was eighteen. We were months from graduation. I loved her and she wanted to keep the baby, so we got married. I was a historically terrible student. College was never going to be part of the equation, so I enlisted.” He pushes aside some bushes and holds them back so I can pass. “We had some money and military housing. We had another baby. I thought things were good, you know?”

“Sure,” I say.

“About a year in, I applied to one of the Special Forces teams. When I graduated they assigned some of us to go a mission to Liberia. I thought it would be good experience—an adventure. Things went to hell down there, as you know. I got back from that mission and—the things I saw—they changed me. Those girls down there. The way they were treated by the rebels. I couldn’t help but think about my wife and daughters the whole time. I came back a different person. Moody and scared. I felt like I needed to do something. Fight harder and protect my family, but I just felt helpless.” He sighs. “Even before the world spun off its axis, my life had fallen apart.”

“What did you do?”

We’ve made our way back around the house and he sits on the front step. “I knew we’d been contracted out by a private group for that mission. I packed a bag, kissed my girls goodbye and left. I left everything. My house. My family. Even my career. I went AWOL, but I didn’t care.  I walked in the front door of PharmaCorp and volunteered.” He cuts me a glance. “You sister welcomed me with open arms even though I was a wanted man.”

“She probably knew it didn’t matter by that point. The parasite had already started to spread.”

“Probably.”

“Do you know what happened to your wife and girls?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“I’m sorry.” I want to tell him that maybe they’re okay but there’s no such thing as okay in this world anymore. There are just different levels of hell.

He gives me a tight but appreciative smile. “Thanks.”

I hear the distinct call of the same bird again, but this time closer. I look at Davis, his face barely visible in the night. “Do you know what that is? It sounds weird.”

“Oh that,” he says. “Yeah.” I watch in confusion as Davis stands and cups his hand over his mouth. He mimics the call back and before I can ask what’s happening there’s a rustling in the nearby bushes.

I jump to my feet and grip the weapon at my side.

“Dude, you can come out. It’s just me and Alex,” Davis says, shaking his head.

“Dude?” I ask, but I should have known. A figure, dressed in black, emerges from the edge of the property.  Davis steps forward, meeting Wyatt halfway across the yard, and they shake hands. I don’t understand what’s happening here, but when do I ever when it comes to these two.

“I thought you’d never call back,” Wyatt says. He glances in my direction, eyes holding mine.

“Had to wait until the others were asleep inside. Plus that first call sounded ridiculous. You needed to wait.”

“Mine? Yours sounded like a dying parrot.”

“What are you doing here?” I cut in, keeping my voice to a low whisper.

“Hello Alexandra, nice to see you.”

I rest my hands on my hips. “Answer me.”

He removes his gloves and scratches chin. A piece of shrubbery is sticking out of his hair. I let it stick. “I’ve got some important intel on your mission.”

Davis frowns. “What’s happening?”

“They know you’re coming. Hayes set up a separate team to investigate after the slaughter of the Fighters and missing survivors at the evacuation center. They know it was you guys. ”

“We have an alternative for that scenario. We knew it was possible that we’d be met by force.” Davis says. “We can take on Hayes—we’ve done it before.”

Again Wyatt shifts his gaze to me. “I agree about Hayes but he won’t be alone. You’re going to need to figure out a way to tell Cole so he’s prepared.”

“Tell him what?” I ask but already know. In the pit of my stomach there’s only one thing that would bring Wyatt out here. “Chloe, right?”

“She’s getting into position now with her army.” He glances between the two of us. “She and Jane both are tired of the sabotage and stealing. They think this is the perfect time for you to face off.”

“They just want to keep us away from PharmaCorp,” Davis says.

“They do, and don’t get any ideas about going there instead. That is a death trap. Trust me.”

His words sink in. Trust me. “What do you think we should do, then?”

Wyatt’s eyebrows lift in surprise that I’ve asked for his opinion. “I think you should go in there and tear them apart. Don’t back down. Don’t let them walk away.”

Davis crosses his arms over his chest and nods.

“And you think we can do it?” I ask.

Wyatt tilts his head and gives me the kind of look that makes my knees weak. “I think you guys are the only ones who can.”

*

Any light I’d seen in Cole’s eyes earlier in the night dissipates when we tell him the information from Wyatt. We’re honest about where it came from—hoping it will provide legitimacy but he turns to me, his voice heavy with betrayal, and asks, “You’ve been in touch with him? This whole time?”

“No,” I promise, but it rings false. I look at Davis for help.

“Wyatt has been working with Erwin for an extended period, probably since you broke out of Fort Shaw. Much of our intelligence about Jane’s activities comes from him, and although he’s not an official member he’s committed to the Resistance.” He nods at me. “Alex has not been privy to that information.”

Cole considers this and the result seems to be that he’s less hurt, but definitely still angry. The others don’t look particularly pleased with me, either.

“And you believe this?” Paul asks me.

I swallow. “I do.”

“Where is he now?” Cole asks, voice on edge.

“He left and didn’t say where he was going from here.” I glare at the group, none of whom seem satisfied. “It’s not like we invited him inside.”

“Well, why not? Maybe we could have gotten more information out of him or heard it from him directly,” Parker eyes me with suspicion. “Or are you the only one allowed to talk to him.”

“I haven’t been talking to him!”

Jude jumps in and says, “Wyatt saved all our asses more than once—we owe him the benefit of the doubt.”

Parker groans and tugs at her hair when he says this, as though he’s the most gullible person ever. I give him a thankful smile—but it’s not a surprise. Jude has looked up to Wyatt since the day we found him.

Paul calmly walks over and takes my hand. “I know you feel defensive. We’re just trying to figure it all out. I mean, it’s a lot to take in when you consider the fact he’s here telling us we’re about to get ambushed by Chloe and that prick Hayes, because they know we’re coming. Who told her we’re coming? Do we really know which side Wyatt is playing?”

I do not want to go down this path again. I can’t. I need to know where I’m headed and who I’m going there with. I have to have faith that Wyatt is telling me the truth. That Davis trusts him. Otherwise there’s no way I can get into this battle with Chloe and Jane. I meet the eye of each member of my team and say, “I believe him.”

Cole holds my eyes but his jaw remains tight. I glance at Paul who nods and says, “That’s enough for me.”

“Okay then,” Jude agrees. “Let’s figure out Plan B.”

Everyone agrees—except Cole, who looks lost in his thoughts.

“Cole,” Davis says, “We need everyone. You in?”

I wait for his features to soften. For his stubbornness to fade. He tips back on his heels, but instead of coming over to the rest of us he turns and walks to where we left our bags. He grabs his bag and his jacket off the front counter.

I race over as he shoves his arms in the sleeves. “Where are you going?”

“I’m out,” he says, working the straps of his backpack over his shoulders.

“What do you mean you’re out?”

“I’m out.” He looks at the group over my shoulder. “Good luck, guys.”

“Cole—“ Paul says, but in a flash, Cole has his cross bow in his hands.

“Don’t follow me.”

He leaves through the front door and I chase after him, willing to take an arrow in the chest. I catch up to him at the bottom of the step and grab his arm. He only stops when I jerk him back.

“What the hell, Cole. What are you doing?”

“I’m going after her.”

“Chloe? We’re all going after her. Together. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“Yes, I do,” he says, swiping a hand through his hair. To my surprise he reaches for my shirt and pulls me close. His breath is warm on my face. “I’m not letting her hurt anyone else. I’m going to take her down myself.”

“No. That’s not what you want to do. I know this—my sister is hurting people, too. ”

“Yeah, and maybe you should have done something about that when you had the chance. If you’d had the guts to take care of her months ago we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

I tug away from him then, disgusted by his words. “Shut your mouth, Cole. We’re not in the game of murdering people.”

He shakes his head and looks at me with the most painful, sad face. “Maybe we should be,” he says before gripping the bow in his hand and stalking toward the tree line.

Chapter 16

Rain starts to fall twenty minutes after we leave the antique shop. We’re packed tightly in the dry SUV, but the visibility is low traveling down the steep mountain hills.

Although we came to an agreement about how to proceed, the car is tense from the argument earlier in the day and we all feel the loss of Cole’s presence. I’m in the passenger seat next to Davis and my eyes haven’t left the road since we started moving. Parker has her face pressed to the window, fogging up the glass. Jude finally nudges her and says, “What are you doing, Park?”

“Looking for him.”

Me too.

“We should have gone after him,” I say for the fifteenth time.

Davis stares out the window, both hands gripping the wheel. “We’re on a timeline and already behind. The other teams will be in position and we’ve got to meet up with them before they’re exposed. This whole mission is much bigger than just our team and certainly more than one man.”

“Have you considered that we may be better off without him?” Paul asks. “Clearly, he’s struggling. Maybe it’s for the best.”

My heart tells me otherwise but I know they’re both right. Other than the occasional moment like the one in the shop the day before, Cole’s frustration has been obvious. We should have left him in the lab—deep down he’s not a soldier.

It takes two more days to get down near Augusta. We stop only to refuel and stretch, taking turns driving the car along flattened stretches of farmland. We avoid all of the larger towns and only have to get out of the car twice to clear the roads of Eaters, most like the ones we found in Eater Town—listless and near death. Humans are scarce but as we get closer and closer to the cleared areas, spray-painted signs with directional arrows pop up on the sides of buildings and barns, encouraging survivors to head to the Vaccine Center.

“Like leading lambs to a slaughter,” Jude mutters, clutching his gun.

Davis is finally forced to abandon the SUV in a sketchy area on the edge of the Death Fields. From here on we’ll be on foot, and hopefully within a day we’ll hook up with the other teams. A small part of me hopes that Cole will be there when we arrive.

Outside the car Parker pets the hood and says, “We’ll miss you, hopefully we’ll see you again someday.”

“Really?” Jude asks, tightening his backpack straps. “I’m hoping for a lift back to Fort Arnold on a helicopter like last time.”

“That would be nice,” Paul agrees.

We’re loaded down with packs and supplies, everything evenly distributed just in case we’re separated. I walk over to Parker and say, “I need to go to the bathroom. Cover me?

She nods and it’s nice sometimes to have another girl out here. This area makes me more nervous than most—it’s urban, which gives humans and Eaters plenty of places to hide. It clearly wasn’t the nicest part of town before all hell broke loose. I follow an old dirt path, stepping over piles of broken glass and debris, around the side of what was once a corner shop. Two old cars are in the back and I squat between them, taking care of business. From my spot between the cars I see the houses that line the street. Old bungalows with rotting porches and peeling shingles.

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Parker says. “My grandmother lived in a house like that. It smelled like cigarette smoke and fried chicken.”

She’s got her weapons out and ready. I don’t blame her. My gun is two inches from my boot as I tug up my pants. Stupid bodily functions.

We round the corner and find Jude pressed against the wall. His finger is to his lips and we do the same. Loud voices carry from where we left Davis and Jude. Human voices.

“Fighters?” I whisper. It can’t be Hybrids. We’d all already be dead.

“No. Locals.”

“Great.”

We’ve done our best to steer clear of humans. They’re time consuming and dangerous. Eaters you can kill. Humans have to be reasoned with. It seems the longer people go without joining up with either the Resistance or Jane’s Army, the harder they become. If there’s anywhere else safe to be, I don’t know it.

I lean forward to get a peek but Jude yanks me back. I roll my eyes, “What do they want?”

“Our stuff? The car? Maybe to enslave us? God if I know.”

“How many?” I ask.

“Three. But there may be more. It’s hard to tell in this area. So many places to hide.”

We work out a quick plan. Parker and Jude will head around the other side of the building. I’ll stay here. Hopefully we can catch them off guard.

I scoot closer to the edge of the building and strain to hear.

“We’re just headed to the Vaccine Center. You’ve seen the signs, right?” Davis says, his voice is friendlier than I expect.

“Sorry, man. Ain’t nobody coming into this neighborhood to invite us to get vaccinated. Not even the monsters want to come in here.”

“Unfortunately, we’re on a schedule,” Davis says. “I’m going to have to ask you to nicely put down your gun and let us go.”  I have to give whoever is talking to him props, because he must be intimidating as hell to get such a reaction. I have to assume they’re bigger or have more weapons.

I take a chance and peer around the corner. I spot Davis first and Paul is by his side. Both look alert but not tense. Of course, Paul could snap one of their necks in a blink but he doesn’t seem concerned. I lean around just a little more and my jaw drops at what I see.

Kids.

They’re just kids. Granted they’re carrying weapons, guns and a few that look homemade. They’re nearly as big as their bodies, and they sling them around like one misfire wouldn’t take a life, but still they’re kids.

“Davis!” I yell, shoving my own gun in the back of my pants.

“Yeah.”

“I’m coming out.”

I step around the side of the building and the two boys and one girl stare at me like a ghost. Their guns are raised but I keep my hands in the air. “Hey,” I say. “I’m Alex. What’s going on out here?”

“You friends with this guy?” the oldest asks. He has dark brown skin and unruly hair that doesn’t look like it’s been washed in a while. I guess he’s about twelve and the other two with him are a bit younger.

“Yes, we’re friends. And he’s right, we’ve got somewhere to be and need to move on. Is that okay with you?”

“You got any food in that bag?” He looks at the pack over my shoulder, ignoring my question.

“Some.”

“We need it. Give it over. Kori keeps giving her food to Garrett. I keep telling her not to but she doesn’t listen.”

I glace at Davis, who is stone faced, and then over to the girl Kori, who is thin as a rail and no, she doesn’t look like she’s eaten in days. Her skin has an ashy quality and I’m not even sure how she’s standing on her feet. “I can give you some of our food, but in exchange you’ve got to let us pass through. It’s important.”

“Let me see,” he says. He juts his chin in the air and I see he’s trying to act big for the others.

“Put your gun down and I’ll show you.”

He looks at the others and they nod. So he gives his gun to Kori and walks over. I take off my backpack and set it on the ground. By the time he’s reached me I’ve pulled out some canned goods and a couple of MREs from Fort Arnold.

“What’s your name?” I ask him.

“Devin.”

“Are those your siblings?”

“Yeah. Kori and Garrett, it’s my job to take care of them now that our mama’s gone.”

“Did she get sick?” He nods, and I think the tough exterior may break but he holds it together. “Who do you live with now?”

“It’s just us,” Kori shouts, but Devin gives her a look and she clamps her mouth shut.

“Us and this big dude named Marcus,” he declares, trying to scare me.

“Well, Devin, I think you’re doing a really good job.”

He points to the MREs. “What are those?”

“Army food. It’s pretty good. You can have it. All of it.”

“It’s not a trick?”

I shake my head. “No, but you’ve got to let us go. He’s right. We have important things to do. And like you, I’ve got to go take care of my sister.”

“You got a sister?”

“Yep.”

He bends and takes the food, piling it into his shirt and waving over the smaller boy, who scrambles over and takes a few packages in his tiny hands.

“Do you think you can do me a favor?” I ask him in a quiet voice.

His eyes narrow. “What kind of favor?”

“We need someone to watch that SUV while we’re gone. Can you do that? We should be back in a few days.”

“What do you have to trade for it?” he asks. This kid is smart.

I look over my shoulder. “I think Parker has some candy in her bag she can share.”

He looks between us. “Who’s Parker?”

Parker and Jude appear from the other side of the building. “That’s Parker. She’s got a bag of chocolate in her pack.”

Parker shoots me a nasty look. “Thanks a lot, Alex.”

She digs around and pulls out a bag of treats. The kid’s eyes go wide and I can tell Parker doesn’t feel that put out about sharing.

“We’ll watch your truck. Promise,” Devin says  with a toothy grin. Kori and Garrett are already shoving the sweet candy into their mouths.

I also hand him a bottle of water. “Devin, besides Marcus, are there any adults that still live here?”

His face darkens. “All the adults are in the church.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“They went to the church,” the girl says, “and locked the door. Nobody ever came out.”

“We stay away from there,” the Garrett says. “Sometimes we can hear scary noises.”

“Good idea,” Paul agrees. “Definitely stay away from that church. But you do have somewhere safe to stay?”

“Yep.” Devin hoists the gun back on his shoulder. “And we’ve got this. We can protect your car. Don’t worry about us, we know how to take care of ourselves.”

*

We leave the kids and the car in a detached garage behind a house two blocks away. Devin says it will be safe there but I don’t really care. I’m already formulating a plan to come back for those three kids if we make it out of the battle with Chloe alive. They shouldn’t be living in the Death Fields alone.

“You know we may not be able to come back here,” Jude says, following me through the woods. Davis navigated us quickly away from the city and into the cleared safe zone. “I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not thinking about anything but the fight ahead,” I say, not interested in admitting how close to the truth he is. It’s a crazy idea but I’m well aware that the odds of us getting out of the upcoming fight alive is slim. That’s why I didn’t say a word to those kids. They don’t need another person letting them down.

“Alex is right. We need to start getting focused,” Davis says, checking the compass he’s carrying. “We should meet up with the first team in a couple of miles.”

When we get to our prearranged camping spot, a small abandoned hunting shed, Davis and I leave the others and meet up with Team Two as expected. Their leader, Lewis, says Team Three and Four are in position as well.

“We head out at dusk,” the man says. He’s short and stocky. Old enough to be a father to either of us. A wad of tobacco is lodged in his cheek and he spits a disgusting glob of brownish sludge every fifteen seconds on the ground.

“We received intel that the Hybrids are waiting for us,” Davis says. “It’s possible they have a man on the inside. Or that they just have more sophisticated technology than we do.”

I snort back and laugh and both men glare at me. “Sorry. By ’more technology’ you mean, any? It feels like the Civil War or something out here. I keep expecting General Lee or Grant to ride by on a horse.”

“You can laugh, sweetheart, but those old Generals and their wars are going to help us win today,” Lewis says before spitting on the ground. “Where do you think we got our plans? This isn’t the first battle fought on this soil. I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

He ambles off muttering about youth and video games and meeting us at the rendezvous point.

“Nice guy.”

“He’s a legend.”

“From one of the World Wars?” I ask.

Davis hits me with a hard, exasperated look. “Seriously, he’s fought in a lot of wars and organized dozens of successful missions, both in Desert Storm and Operation Iraqi Freedom. He knows what he’s doing and we’re lucky he survived long enough to help out today. We’ll follow his lead.”

The reality is that I’m fighting nerves. This battle looms larger than anything else we’ve done. The smash and grabs, even the disaster at the evacuation center a few weeks ago wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. The last time we faced off with Chloe, we nearly lost our lives. The difference, I guess, is that last time we were ambushed. This time, we know what we’re getting into, and it’s terrifying.

My panicked thoughts must have been apparent on my face because Davis stops and gives me soft look. He throws an unexpected arm around my shoulder and says, “I can’t predict the outcome of what will happen today, but I do know you’re a hell of a fighter, Alex. More so than I ever expected.”

“You really think so?” I never expected a compliment like this from Davis.

“Believe it not, you’ve helped me find focus when I was completely lost. PharmaCorp took me in when I needed somewhere to go but it was a bad deal. They were just using me. You’ve allowed me to redeem that—or at least try. I’m thankful for that.”

I feel the pinpricks of tears forming in my eyes. “I feel like a jerk because we’re having a manly moment about wars and battles and being the Resistance and I’m just over here slobbering like a girl.”

He squeezes my neck. “Not just any girl, Alexandra Ramsey. You’re the girl who kicks ass.”

Chapter 17

The first fiery shot comes just after the sun has set. It whizzes through the air, too close to the Resistance fighters hunkered down in the shadows of the forest. They’re well-armed and come charging from all directions. I’ve barely accepted that this is really happening when an explosion rocks the ground and I stumble, racing forward to put the gunfire behind me. Paul runs next to me, yanking me upright.

“Thanks,” I say, but it’s more just to hear my voice. I fall in line and Paul’s quick breaths set our pace. Jude is behind me, loud and too heavy on his feet, but he’s got the best aim so we’ve sacrificed speed and stealth. The gunfire provides bursts of light, and in those brief moments I know we’re running past the front lines and toward the Center itself. Our job is to get close to Chloe and take her out.

Yes, we’re going after Chloe.

Our part of the mission is terrifying and likely to fail. Davis and Parker are positioned with the other teams, who, according to rumor, have managed to secure a tank or two and a couple of hand-held rocket launchers. Basically, we’re headed straight into enemy territory that will be under serious gunfire very soon. Wyatt was right. We’re all making sacrifices to stop my sister.

Paul easily leaps over felled trees and scrawny shrubs. He’s our brawn and only defense against the Hybrids. Jude’s aim is true. Me? I’m here in case there are complications and someone needs to talk us out of a tight spot. Not that Chloe has any use for what I have to say, but I feel for my hatchet, heavy against my leg, anyway. I’ll use it against her if I have to.

The fence line comes into view and we race forward, pressing our bodies against the cool, hard steel. We’re breaking in the way we came out months ago—through the back gate behind the dumpster. It’s the Center’s blind spot and our best shot of getting inside.

Jude shifts next to me. “You think it will really be unlocked?”

“Yes.” Wyatt is supposed to leave it open for us. I have faith but I’m still not sure the rest of team is convinced. Doesn’t matter now, I think, tugging at the latch.

It’s locked.

Crap.

“It’s locked,” I say, staring at the coiled chain and padlock hanging from the gate. I yank again as though it may magically open.

Jude’s eyes reveal slight panic and I try my best to remain calm. Paul brushes past me, barking, “Move over,” before grasping the lock in both hands and pulling hard. The action seems futile but the veins in his neck strain and his biceps bulge. I’m afraid he’ll rupture something, and rest a hand on his shoulder. “Paul, don’t hurt…”

The lock snaps and he holds it up for me to see in two pieces.

“Holy crap, dude,” Jude says taking a piece and staring at it in wonder. “You’ve been holding back on us.”

We squeeze through the gate, making as little sound and movement as possible, and duck behind the dumpster. “Wyatt told Davis that Chloe would be in the main office—she’s been using it for her headquarters,” I whisper, although I don’t know how anyone would hear me with the rapid gunfire coming from the guard towers and along the fence.

Jude’s eyebrows knit together. “Are we sure about that?”

“I’m not sure about anything,” I say. “But we need to stick to the plan. Taking out Chloe is our best option.”

I lead the team out of our hiding spot and step from the darkness into the grassy area leading toward the office. We’re met with the sound of metal clicking into place as a dozen gun barrels aim in our direction. The soldiers, with their purples patches stitched on their shoulders, have us surrounded. Two figures stand in the middle. My eyes pass over Hayes, the fighter we worked closely with during our time here, who eventually betrayed us to Chloe and the smug look on his face. At his feet is a man on his knees with a gun to the back of his head.

“Found out your boy has been playing both sides,” Hayes says, jamming the nozzle of the gun into the back of Wyatt’s skull. He nods at the soldiers surrounding us and we’re disarmed and shoved to the ground. “The Director doesn’t take well to traitors.”

Wyatt’s jaw is tight—his eye blackened and swelling badly. Blood is caked on the corner of his mouth. If Hayes knew about us coming then it was likely he knew about Wyatt feeding us information.

“You would know, right?” I jerk away from the soldier binding my hands. He shoves a heavy boot in the small of my back. I still under the pressure. A broken back won’t help me complete my mission. “How does it feel to lick the boots of my sister and be a part of her deranged freak show?”

Jude is not so complaint, and takes a swinging punch before they can restrain him. His knuckles graze the Hybrid’s cheek, but she’s too quick, cracking his ribs with her elbow. He falls to the ground in a heap, doubled over in pain.

“How does it feel?” Hayes repeats my question and walks over to me. He towers over me. I keep my eyes on his. They’re not the mutated post-infection eyes the Eaters or Hybrids have, but there’s still something dangerous about them. I should have known when I saw him enter the ring with that Eater all those months ago that he had a death wish. He bends down so our faces are nearly touching. “It feels like I picked the winning team.”

I hold his eye and spit in his face. I can’t help but laugh at the long glob of saliva hanging at his chin.

“Think again.”

Hybrid hands grab me by the shoulders and Hayes’ fist balls next to my face. I wait for the punch.

It never comes.

Instead Hayes laughs, creepy and weird, particularly against the backdrop of fighting just outside the fence. He wipes the spit off this face. “What you’re doing here is stupid. A total waste of time. This little Resistance of yours, is that what it’s called?” He looks around to the stone-faced Hybrids and gets no response. He shrugs. “Your Resistance is nothing against what the Director has created. You’re a speck on her windshield. A gnat buzzing in the face of a fast-moving society. One that has already begun to transform. You can’t stop this with a couple of tanks and a few rag-tag wannabe soldiers. Her ideas are bigger than this—than all of us.”

“Then kill us,” I say, pushing my shoulders back in defiance. “Put us out of our misery.”

His smug expression turns into one of resignation.

He reaches for my chin and rests a soft finger underneath. “Oh, if only I could. Someone else gets the glory of that job.”

He turns abruptly and stalks back over to Wyatt, who has fallen on his side. Hayes jerks him upright and he blinks. His eyes are unfocused and his movements lax. I’m not sure he even knows we’re here.

“It’s unfortunate that the Ramsey line tends to be so defiant. There can only be one leader and that position is firmly in place.” Hayes makes a dramatic moment shouting a command, and another Hybrid appears from the side the building with a hooded prisoner. It’s a man, but not Cole. Not Davis. The body too small. Definitely not made for battle. “I hate that it’s come to this, but I need you to cooperate, Alexandra, and I suspect this is the only way.”

The hood is ripped off the prisoner’s head, revealing my father’s confused and terrified face. I scan his person for injuries but only find he looks exhausted and scared.

“Dad,” I call, attempting to move toward him but the soldiers hold me back. “Are you okay?”

He nods and his glasses slip down his nose. “Just do what they say, sweetheart.”

I don’t like the sound of that idea at all. Not one bit.

“Let’s go,” Hayes directs, and we’re dragged to our feet. The fighting moves closer and he picks up the pace. Sweat clings to the back of his shirt and he looks to the sky every time another round of gunfire occurs. We pass the side of the building, past the hidden entrance to the bunker below, and head to the front office.

“You’re taking us to Chloe?” I ask.

“No,” he says, spinning on his heel. “You’re going to call your men off. Tell them to back down before they breach the fence.”

“I’m not going to do that. I can’t.” I squirm against the grip of the Hybrid holding me and he clamps down on my shoulder, painfully. “Back off, asshole,” I say.

Jude bucks away from his captor. “Leave her alone.”

The Hybrid slaps me across the face with the back of his hand so hard I reel. The Hybrid leers, his breath near my neck and says, “Give me a reason. I’ll call it an accident.”

“Shut up,” Hayes says, dragging Wyatt, who seems to be unconscious. I wonder how many Hybrids they had to use to subdue him. “You’ll do it, Alexandra. We will not lose this base.”

Clarity rings in my head and I realize we must be winning outside the fence. Hayes must be afraid and it’s not just of me. He has orders to hold the Center. Orders from higher above and he’s terrified of the consequences if he fails.

We’re nearing the office when I hear a whimper behind me. I look back and find the soldier guarding Paul on the ground and him twisting his wrists in a way that snaps the plastic ties binding his hands.

In a blink there’s a gun in Paul’s hands, aimed at the next closest Hybrid and he jabs him in the head with the butt of the gun. The soldier falls to the ground in a thud, blood oozing from his ear. Hayes turns and fires at Paul, who ducks and moves with incredible speed.

“Get him!” Hayes screams and the Hybrids follow on instinct, leaving us unguarded. I’m stunned in my spot, watching one man, my friend, fight six Hybrids without breaking a sweat. He takes two down with the gun, shooting them before they can aim their weapons. Paul dives to the ground, lifting a knife off the Hybrid’s hip and using it to slash the tendons behind both of their knees.

I cringe as the men scream in pain, writhing on the grassy lawn. The grass grows slick with blood and their cries are muffled by the approaching battle. Explosives rattle the fence and building around us. Singularly focused, Paul races to me and cuts the binds off my wrist. He does the same for Jude, who lunges for an abandoned weapon by one of the dead Hybrid’s bodies.

He shoots another in the chest and we watch, stunned, as he crumbles to the ground. “Get her gun,” he says, shoving me toward the body. I lunge for the weapon and pop it against my shoulder.

“I got it,” I say, trying to keep up with his speed.

Armed and ready, we find Paul face to face with Hayes who clutches my father’s small body to his chest, using his body as a shield. The black nozzle of a gun presses into his temple. Wyatt lays unmoving on the ground.

“I’ll kill him,” Hayes says, eyeing Paul. “Don’t you take another step.”

Paul’s eyes dart around, calculating the odds, but I grab his arm before he can act. I face Hayes. “He’s one of the brightest minds we have left! He created the vaccine! Do you really think my sister will approve of you killing her father?” I ask, finding the whole thing incomprehensible.

Hayes glances at my father and it’s the only clue I need. I blurt out, “She doesn’t, does she? You took him on your own?” I actually laugh. A real laugh. “God, you’re so screwed.”

Hayes wavers, dropping the gun an inch, but it’s all we need. Paul dives for the man and I lunge for my father, but another force comes into play. Wyatt bursts to life from his spot on the ground. He wasn’t dying—just biding his time. Before I can reach my father, Wyatt pulls him to safety, away from the ensuing fight between Hayes and Paul.

Paul struggles with Hayes, who is strong by human measures. I watched him in that cage, I know what he can do, but Paul’s amped up system is not the same as a mere infected. He’s triple that, because of his ability to control his own impulses and aggression, and it only takes a moment for him to get Hayes on his back, wrists tight in Paul’s vice-like grip.

“What are you?” Hayes asks, frowning at the man holding him down.

“One of the options in the Director’s future,” Paul replies. “Whether she knows it or not.”

I push the sweaty hair out of my eyes and level my gun at his head.

“Why didn’t she give you the Hybrid vaccine?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.

He spits on the ground. “She was testing both of us,” he says, looking at Wyatt, who is once again unconscious lying on the ground with my father nearby. “She wanted him but was unsure if he was loyal. She knew he had sympathies for you but wasn’t sure how much. My job was to bring him in and capture you. I did both and my reward is supposed to be the EVI-2.”

“You picked the wrong side,” I tell him. “You’re just a power-hungry lunatic in the middle of a fight you don’t even understand. My sister doesn’t want men like you under her command. She wants true fighters like Wyatt. Jane thinks she’s right about all of this. You just want to dominate. There’s a difference.”

He smiles and his white teeth are stained with his own blood. “You’re right about one thing—you sister isn’t going to win this war, but I definitely didn’t pick the wrong side. Open your eyes, Alexandra. You think this is about right and wrong and getting everything back the way it was. Those days are done. Finished. Only the strong will survive, and unless you’ve got a shot of the juice like your friend does, you’ll never make it.”

I try to come up with a retort, something to argue against his lunacy but Paul lays two hands on his neck and in a blink snaps it to the side. The light goes out of Hayes’ eyes.

“I wasn’t finished talking to him!” I shout, staring at the dead, slumped-over body.

“All he was trying to do was get in your head.”

“You didn’t think I could do it. Kill him,” I say.

“I know what you’re capable of, but I didn’t want you to carry that,” was all he said, brushing his hands on his pants. There are bodies surrounding us but the two most important lay nearby, still breathing. My father pulls himself up on unsteady legs but Wyatt doesn’t move.

“We’ve got to get him out of here,” I say, kneeling by his side. His head is feverish and his breathing shallow. The battle rages on and it’s right outside the walls. Jane’s Fighters up on the fence abandon their posts and jump to the ground. My sister and Chloe are about to lose their hold.

“Take him to safety,” Paul tells me. “Jude and I will find Chloe.”

“What? No. That’s not the plan!” I argue. A whizzing explosive lands near the dumpster and we all crouch down, holding onto each other as it explodes, showing dirt, metal, and debris through the air.

We’re just past the fallout but another one will be coming soon.

“I’ll help,” my father says. Together we lift Wyatt off the ground, each of us bearing an arm across our shoulders.

“Get him to the bunker,” Paul says.

We part and I have the most terrible feeling I’ll never see either of them again. More explosives zoom overhead and Fighters don’t even notice us as they run for their lives. We reach the area behind the building where the small island of shrubs cloaks the bunker entrance, and I hoist Wyatt’s arm over my shoulder again. He’s conscious now, barely holding up any weight, but I talk to him anyway. “Ten more feet. That’s all we’ve got. Ten more feet. I may have to shove you down the stairs, but at least we’ll be out of the war zone.”

He graces me with the tiniest of smiles but any sense of relief is cut short when I look up and run into someone blocking my path.

“Hello, Alexandra,” Chloe says, as though the battle raging around us is nothing more than a gnat buzzing around her face. “I see you’ve brought nothing but destruction and disturbance with you.”

Before I can react, she’s unsheathed an arrow and a sharp blade releases from her compound bow. I push my father and Wyatt behind a bush and hit the ground. It lands in the grass, inches from my foot. I ready my gun.

“Going somewhere?” Chloe asks. Her hair has grown out some since I last saw her, but it’s still close to her head. She seems completely unaffected by the fact all hell is breaking loose around us. I guess it’s easier to feel confident when you’re a genetically modified soldier of the apocalypse. Some of us don’t have that luxury.

“I don’t have time for this,” I shout, squatting behind an electrical box and checking my ammo. It’s been a long night.

“Time for what? You started this.”

I shake my head. “No. Jane started it.”

“Yeah, well I’m ending it.”

Another arrow zips past my cheek, sharp feathers cutting across my skin. I duck and try to get an eye on her.

Wyatt groans behind the bush and I wave for my father to cover his mouth. He does so but it’s too late. Chloe starts in their direction. I jump from my hiding spot and take a shot. Her arm jerks backwards and she screams in incredulous shock, more than pain.

“You little bitch,” she seethes. Her face contorts into one of rage and with all amplified speed, she races toward me.

Like a deer in headlights, I freeze, unable to process the force charging at me. Chloe isn’t human and it shows in this moment. Her body is sleek. Her muscles firm. She flies off the ground, kicking me in the gut feet first, and I flail backwards.

She knocks the breath out of my airways and I land hard on the ground, gasping for air while bracing for her wrath. The earsplitting screeching of metal buckling brings me to a sitting position and I watch the fence come down as a huge tank flattens it to the ground. I pat the grass, searching for my weapon, and see Chloe nearby, rolling in the grass with a larger body pinning her to the ground.

“Go!” Cole screams, punching her in the face. She hits back and his jaw snaps to the side. He lunges for her throat, wrapping his hands around her neck. “Go, Alex. Go!”

I do as he says. I race to my father and start pulling Wyatt toward the shelter. With shaky hands and unsteady breathing I push back the fake grass and find the handle. “Get down there,” I tell my dad, who sure enough, basically drops Wyatt down the flight of stairs. He’s exhausted. So am I.

“Come with us,” Dad says, tugging at my arm.

I glance back at Cole fighting with his sister, their voices drowned out by the thundering sound of boots and soldiers coming our way. I just don’t know which soldiers they are—mine or theirs, and who will ultimately win this fight. It feels like the wrong thing to do but I lower the door and the last thing I see before shutting out the world is a pack of Hybrids swarming the area and dragging Cole’s still-fighting body off his sister.

Chapter 18

The sounds of the battle seem far away even though I know it rages right over our head. The earth provides solid protection, even though occasionally an explosion hits close enough that our electricity falters. With my father’s help, we manage to get Wyatt into a bed.

“Strip him,” my father says, already down the hall and in the tiny kitchen looking for medical supplies.

“What? Why?” I ask. The majority of the injuries seem to be to his head and face.

He returns to the room with a bowlful of bottles and rags. The glint of stainless scissors and a knife sit on top. He points to Wyatt’s body. “He was favoring his left side.”

I push up the hem of his shirt and swallow back a wave of nausea. The whole left side of his body is black and blue. With my fingers I trace the mottled outline of a boot print.

“Good God,” I breathe, and reach for the scissors. I cut away the shirt and then move to his pants, unbuttoning and pulling them over his hips. I eye the trail of hair on his belly and the dip of his hips and leave his shorts on. I glance up at my father, who is snapping on a pair of latex gloves and say, “Tell me what to do.”

It’s weird to see my father in action like this. Most of his doctoring is done tucked away from people and with his eye pressed to a microscope. But he’s proficient and hasn’t forgotten what he learned in med school. I guess now we all have to be more than one thing in life.

While he works, checking Wyatt for internal damage and inspecting the cuts on his face, I boil water on the stove and find soap. My father stitches the cut over his eye. I wipe down Wyatt’s face, his arms, and gently clean his broad chest and the muscular dips and curves of his arms and shoulders. Despite his mass, he’s too skinny, his belly lean, and tan cheeks gaunt. In our world of darkness and brief encounters it’s the most I’ve seen of him in months.

“That’s all I can do for now,” My father says, applying ointment to a cut on his jaw. He shines a flashlight in Wyatt’s unmoving eyes.  “I’m sure he’s concussed. One of us should stay here tonight.”

“You can rest first,” I say. “I can sit with him. I’m too wired to sleep anyway.”

He takes off his glasses and cleans them with the hem of his shirt. “Come get me if you need me.”

The air is tight between us and the emotion of the day rolls over me like a freight train. A sob escapes even though I’m trying so hard to keep everything in. “Thank you for helping him.”

“Oh, Alexandra,” he says, opening his arms. I step in for a hug and for the first time in months, I feel like I’m home.

*

I find a canister of instant coffee in the kitchen cabinets and make myself a pot. The water has the tinge of metal, but I’m on my third cup when Wyatt shifts in the bed.

Seeing him like this takes a toll on my psyche. He’s supposed to be the strong one—invincible. He’s the one Jane cherry-picked traits from that she then used to mold her precious Hybrids. I stare at his body, the sheet only up to his thighs. His shorts are gray—Army-issued, if I had to guess—and I can’t help but absorb every inch of him. The loss in weight makes the angles of his muscles harder. Sharper. Even now, completely vulnerable, he’s absolutely intimidating.

He moves again, this time opening his mouth, and I’m standing over him by the time he blinks and cracks an eyelid.

“Jesus,” he mutters, flinching a bit at my closeness.

“Sorry.” I exhale but don’t move. “You’re awake.”

He blinks again, wincing, and false starts a move with his hand to his head. “I feel like I got run over by a truck.”

“A truck named Hayes.”

He closes his eyes and I press my hand against his cheek. “It wasn’t him, it was those freaking Hybrids, although he was the one that gave the order. Bastard.”

“Well, he’s dead. Paul killed him.” I was one second from doing it myself. “I don’t know exactly what happened before we showed up, but one of them tried to kick you to death. Your ribs are a mess and you’ve got a nasty concussion.”

He opens one eye. “Hayes is dead?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn. I was hoping to do it myself.”

“We also took the Center, or are in the process of taking it, I guess.”

He tries to look around but his neck is stiff and sore. “Where are we?”

“Down in the bunker.”

He holds my eye and a million questions run through his head. He’s trying to assess our situation. Calculate the risk. Plot our next move. All he needs to do is heal.

“Chloe knows about the bunker. We’re not safe.” Again he tries to move and this time manages to get a couple inches off the bed. I gently push him back down.

“We’re okay for now. And you’re in no shape at all to move.” I haven’t heard fighting for a couple of hours and I’m dying to know what’s going on above ground.

“Who else is down here?” he asks.

“Just us and my father.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah, he’s resting in the other room. He patched you up and gave me orders to keep an eye on you.” His eyes flutter and I reach for the medication my father left on the bedside table. “Take these and go back to sleep.”

“Since when do you tell me what to do?” he mutters, but opens his mouth and allows me to give him a little water to wash the pills down. I wipe the dribble of water off his chin and again he grimaces.

I drag my chair closer so I can take his hand in mine. I stare at his battered face and think of all the things we’ve gone though. His fingers lace though mine and he drifts off. I’m sure he can’t hear me, but I tell him anyway, “Get well, Wyatt Faraday, because the battle isn’t over and I’m sure as hell not done with you yet.”

Chapter 19

I eye the game board, my pointer finger lingering over a chess piece. Across the table my father’s face is blank, but he tents his fingers together in a recognizable tell. He’s counting moves. If I’m reading him right, he’ll probably take my queen in three.

I switch pieces and hastily slide the black piece across to an empty square. Without changing expressions, he leans forward and assesses the board. A familiar feeling of frustration builds in me and it’s like I’m eight years old again, sitting at our kitchen table.

I try not to pout when he beats me in one move.

“What do we do now?” I ask, leaning back in the seat. He picks up the game pieces and places them back in the box we found in a closet.

“I saw a pack of cards in there,” he replies.

I shake my head. “No, I mean what do we do now? About everything. How long do we stay down here? What do we do about Jane and the Hybrids.”

“Oh,” he says, fitting the lid on the top of the box and resting it on the table. “I’m not sure.”

Of course not. God forbid someone else have a plan. Or think of a plan, or have a freaking clue as to what to do next. I run my hands through my hair, which I left down after my shower to air dry. Without frequent haircuts, it’s developed into a grown out, tangled mess.

“Well, we can’t stay here much longer,” I say, mostly because I’ve got a mixture of cabin fever and obligations I can’t turn my back on, but most importantly, I need to know if my team survived the battle.

“I’m sorry about all of this, you know,” my father says suddenly.

“About what, specifically?” There’s a long, unspoken list.

“My role in all of this. At the beginning I had no idea what her motives were. I thought she just needed me to create the vaccine. And I did. But I underestimated her desires to maximize on the Crisis and turn it into something else. I always knew she was determined and opinionated politically, something that scientists try to leave at the laboratory door, but I didn’t know the extent.” He sighs. “I spend hours every day wondering if I could have done something different, if there was some way I could have stopped her.”

I understand my father’s worries more than I care to admit. But I’m also fully aware that going to that place doesn’t change anything. We can only move forward and I told him as much.

“I don’t think any of us could comprehend Jane’s real motivations here. While we were thinking about survival she was plotting domination.” The air hangs heavy between us and I decide to change the subject. “How did you end up with Hayes and Chloe?”

“I came on my own, well, with the help of your friend in there.” He gestures to the back room where Wyatt is sleeping. “After I’d seen what she’d done—how she’d mutated the EVI-1 vaccine to create the Hybrids--I knew I needed to observe the Center myself. Things are changing at the Fort. Jane has increasingly taken over the assignments in the lab, and is overseeing much of the work. I’m being squeezed out.”

We look at one another as that sinks in. Jane is a brilliant scientist. She created the E-TR virus that started all of this. Then the EVI-2 Vaccine, that creates the Hybrids. The last place we need her is in the lab with no oversight. “Wyatt brought you here?”

“Yes, I became aware of his allegiance when we gave you the vaccine to hand over to the Army.” He eyes me carefully. “He’s a good man. A complicated one I believe, but his motives seem true.”

“I think so.”

“He seems to care deeply for you. Is there a relationship?” he asks, uncharacteristically.

“He’s an ally. A friend, I suppose.” I hope my cheeks aren’t red. “They’re hard to come by lately.”

“Indeed.”

A loud bang sounds from down the hall and we both jump.

“Wait here,” I tell my dad, picking up the gun from the table next to me. Wyatt meets me in the hallway, shirtless, holding an arm around his bandaged waist. His gun is in his other hand. We look up the dark stairwell.

“A friend, eh?” he says, pushing my hair over my shoulder. “I like your hair—all big and crazy.”

“You’re doped up and talking nonsense. Anyway, are you really eavesdropping when you should be in bed?”

He shrugs but we hear two more bangs on the metal door from above.

I glance at his battered but healing face. “I thought they couldn’t get in.”

“There’s a fail switch of sorts, just in case. A code lock.”

“Who has the code?”

“I do, for one.”

I stare at him. “Who else?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

“Stay down here. I mean it.” It’s a testament of how much pain he’s in that he actually follows directions.

I get to the top of the stairs and feel around with my hand for the flat, square door on the ceiling. Muffled voices sound from above and I strain, trying to catch what they’re saying.  It’s impossible, though, and there’s nothing I can do but wait with my gun pointed at the ceiling. My heart rockets around my chest. If it’s Chloe or a Hybrid, we’re dead. A muted cry carries through the metal and I ready myself—they’ve opened the lock. A moment later the metal hinges whine and bright light from outside blinds me. I take a step down, feeling the wall behind me to get my vision back.

“Alex?” A familiar voice calls, and I nearly break into tears.

I don’t respond to Paul. It could be a trick.

Two legs appear in on the first step. Black boots and cargo pants. “Alex, I’m coming down. Don’t shoot.”

I hold my fire but I can’t stop the nagging feeling in my gut. Paul’s body emerges, then his face—his hands up, palms forward. He smiles when he sees me. It’s genuine, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. They’re dark and even if he’s alone, there’s something wrong.

“What is it?” I ask, once he’s fully down. I peer up to the top and see Jude guarding the opening. “What’s wrong?”

“We took the base,” he says, looking between me and Wyatt. “We secured the office and medical facilities. There are a lot of injured and Erwin’s men just got here.”

“Why did it take you so long to come down here?” Wyatt asks.

“The door was covered in debris. It took a while to clear it off, and Davis was the only one with the code and he was meeting the teams from Fort Arnold. Is everyone okay?”

“We’re fine,” I say. “Wyatt’s healing. My father is down the hall. So everyone is okay? Parker?”

“They’re fine,” he says, the dark worry filling his eyes again. “But we have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” Wyatt asks.

“Chloe and a group of Hybrids got away,” he licks his lips and rests a hand on my shoulder. “And she took Cole with her.”

*

The can of soup squeezes between my socks and my hair brush. I look at the table, wondering if the packet of jerky will fit or if I’m going to just have to shove that in my pocket. I fold the package as tight as I can and push it through the zipper, ignoring the footsteps coming down the hallway.

“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you,” Wyatt says. Without looking, I can tell he’s having to grit his teeth against the pain.

“I just needed to grab a couple of things.”

I tug at the zipper, closing up my pack. I’ve got ammo, two guns, a knife, and my hatchet that I recovered by a miracle outside.

“Looks like you’re going somewhere.”

I lift the bag. It’s a little heavier than I’d like, but I don’t have a choice. “Does it?”

“What the hell are you doing, Alex?”

I turn to face him and can’t help but shake my head. “God, you’re a mess,” I tell him. I can barely make out his features underneath the bruises and cuts.

“Thanks,” he says. “Now answer my question.”

“I’m just going through some of the supplies down here. It’s not like we can use this shelter again.”

He looks at my backpack, the weapons, and my clothes and crosses his arms over his chest. “Erwin’s looking for you.”

“Great.”

“You should go see him.”

“I will. Thanks for telling me.” I fight with the shoulder strap on my bag, trying to make it tighter. Wyatt steps forward and takes the fabric from my fingers.

“You won’t make it to the Fort, you know that, right? They’ve surely tripled their security by now.”

I slap his hands away but he’s already adjusted them so the strap fits perfectly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re going back for him,” he declares.

“Who?” I ask, but the set of his jaw reveals the slightest hint of hurt and it’s easy to guess. “I’m not going after Cole. He made his decision and I’m not risking my life to get him back here.”

“He saved us out there. Gave us the chance to get away,” he says.

“Maybe, but Cole is fighting a battle I’m not sure I can help with right now.” I mean this, and as much I want to be able to help him, I’ve got bigger plans.

I push past him and start up the stairs. “Come on, are we going to see Erwin or not?”

“Alex.”

I take the steps two at a time, knowing for once he can’t keep up. Daylight shines at the top and it’s still a shock to enter the world above. The battle nearly destroyed the Center. The sky smells of smoke and death. I step carefully over the debris and blood-soaked ground and head to the part of the main office that is still standing. It’s Erwin’s office for the moment.

Just outside, I circle around and stash my pack behind a still-standing trash bin, wedging it in tight. I’m back to the front by the time Wyatt catches up, his face contorted in pain. I reach for the door but before I open it his hand clenches around my arm. I pause because he fights for breath and I don’t want him to pass out on me.

“Don’t do something stupid.”

“You should go rest,” I tell him. “Heal up. We’re going to need you for the next mission.”

He doesn’t, instead he follows me in quietly. Erwin stands behind the counter, his maps and strategy sheets covering every available surface.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask.

“Yes, thank you for coming.” He looks up at Wyatt. “You okay with him being here?”

“If he’s not going back to the infirmary he may as well stay.”

“I know things have been a little intense the last day or two, but now that the dust has settled I think we’re ready for the next phase in our plans.”

“Good,” I say, my eyes on the map. Red arrows point away from our location. A circle outside of Savannah signals his destination.

“We’re headed south. I want to secure the coast.”

Wyatt frowns. “South? We’re not targeting the Fort?”

“Not now,” Erwin says. “The risk is too high. If we focus on the remaining evacuation centers in the southern part of the state, we can add on to our existing army—possibly doubling our size. Then we can take on The Fort when we’re better prepared.”

I feel Wyatt’s eyes on my back but I don’t cave under the pressure. If I’ve learned anything from him it’s that sometimes it’s best to hold your cards and emotions close.

“What’s our anticipated start date?” I ask.

“We’ll need to move fast on this one. At least getting on the road while Chloe is licking her wounds. I’ve sent the rest of your team to scout ahead. They’ll report back in the next couple of days.”

“This all sounds pretty risky,” I say. “What makes you think she’s not already on her way here?”

He nods at the man behind me. “I have more than one fox in the hen house, Alexandra.”

“That makes sense,” I reply, because Erwin too, knows better than to lay all his cards on the table. Luckily for me, I’ve been paying attention.

*

The Center, or what’s left of it, is quiet after dark. There’s nothing much to do once the sun goes down, and people either head to their guard stations, back to the medical center, or go to bed.

I press my back against the wall of the main building and try my hardest not to fall into one of the massive holes created by explosives during the battle.

Easing the pack out from behind the bin, I hook the straps over my arms and start across the field. After the tanks flattened the fence line we had to put up a temporary barricade. It’s old school. Barbed wire, lined with clinking cans and bottles. Anything that will alert us to an intruder attempting to get into the Center. The area is technically clear from Eaters, but there’s no way to have gone through every home or to account for any recently infected.

The wire may be primitive, but it does the trick.

I wait in the shadows, counting the seconds until the patrol passes by. After they’re gone I have only a few minutes to cross over and not get tangled up. The patrol come and go, their low voices murmuring in conversation. I run for the exit spot I picked earlier in the day. The wire is taut and the chimes few. I stumble twice, once slipping on the edge of a hole, my feet shifting on the crumbing dirt.

I get to the fence and toss my bag over, flinching when it lands with a too loud thud on the hard ground. I freeze and look around, but the night remains quiet. I start the process of weaving my body through the barbed wire without shredding my skin.

My shirt snags on the back of my knee and I feel the sharp scrape of metal across the exposed part of my neck but I manage to get through in one piece. I’m sweating by the time I’m on the other side, but I snatch my bag off the ground and disappear into the tree line, leaving the Center and my team behind.

Chapter 20

I’ve never spent a night alone in the woods. Not before or after the initial Crisis. I remember feeling alone—mostly back when I was travelling with my mother--but just knowing another person was nearby kept a large part of the panic at bay.

I’m not worried about the Eaters.

I’m not scared of bobcats or wild animals.

The Hybrids? In a situation like this they would take me out in a blink.

I’m terrified for Cole and even though I said differently to Wyatt earlier, his capture takes up every available part of my mind.

He saved me and Wyatt, but at what cost? I don’t deny to myself that I pushed Cole and his fate out of my head when we went down in that bunker. I focused on healing Wyatt. I needed time to repair my relationship with my father. But I was only assuaging the guilt I had for not staying up top and fighting. Now, in the heavy silence of the apocalypse, there’s nowhere to hide.

Huddled now in the crook of two trees, I burrow into my jacket and the thermal blanket I stole from the bunker. I hold a gun in one hand and my hatchet in the other and allow myself to sleep.

*

I jerk awake. It’s dawn. Hazy with fog. The gun is still in my hand but the other is empty. Wet leaves stick to my palm. A noise woke me—a sharp jolt of fear runs up my spine. I gather my senses and weapons and look around. My eyes land on a pair of familiar boots near my feet. I suck in a breath and mutter a curse.

“Dude, you can’t stop, can you?” I say, lowering my weapons.

Wyatt raises his cut eyebrow. “Can you?”

I sigh and rub my face, trying to wake up a little better while lowering my heart rate. Without another word I pack up my belongings and dig out the jerky, tearing off a piece with my teeth. I offering him nothing. No food. No water from my bottle. I just march on.

He follows.

This goes on for hours. It’s a long walk to my destination, I hope to be there by the end of the day, but I can already tell that’s unlikely to happen. I have the map Davis followed when we came down and with a little luck and my compass, I hope to backtrack and end up in the right destination.

Normally Wyatt would be way ahead of me, letting me know my shorter legs and lack of stamina was holding him back, but not today. Even though he doesn’t make a sound, it’s clear his injuries are slowing him down. Once he falls far enough behind I realize I could make a break for it, but my stupid conscience nags at me. I already lost one man I care about; there’s no way I would survive losing another. I stop a little to sit on a fallen log before the sun hits the peak of the sky. I’ve eaten a small snack, changed socks, and reloaded my gun by the time he appears, breathing hard and coated in sweat.

He leans on the log a couple feet away and catches his breath. I mull over all my comments from I told you so, to Stop being a dumbass, but swallow them all back. Instead I drink a little more water and ignore him as he wipes his forehead with the hem of his shirt, revealing the mottled bruising up his side.

I stand and approach him, silently taking the fabric out of his hand. He stares at me but I ignore him, check the area with my fingers. His stomach collapses at my touch and a tight hiss comes from his mouth. God, it looks bad. So bad, and I feel a twinge of guilt knowing he took that beating for me and the cause.

Searching my pocket, I find one of the tiny packets I stashed away. I tear off the corner and press two pain pills in his palm. Walking off as he takes them, I gather my things, check my compass and head north.

*

I toss another acorn in the fire. It pops and sparks as it explodes. Wyatt sits on the other side. The shadows and flames against his bruised face give him the appearance of a demon.

“How do you plan on doing this?” he asks after hours and hours of silence.

“Doing what?” My knees are bent to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. My stomach growls, begging for more food.

“Rescuing Cole.”

“Is that my plan?” I throw another acorn in and it misses, passing through and bouncing off his chest. Oops.

“God, you’re infuriating.”

I bark out a laugh. Pot meet kettle and all.

“See? Like that. Why are you laughing? You’re committing suicide.” I avoid his stare through the fire. “What if they stop you?”

“Then they stop me.”

“What if I stop you?” he asks in a quiet voice.

My eyes flick to his and I answer carefully. Slowly. “Then we’re done.”

*

We reach our destination the next day, although a few blocks away from where I’d hoped to land. The fence between the cleared area and the Death Fields is weak, but as we saw before there’s not much risk around here. Nothing but a few kids toting guns bigger than their bodies.

The leaves are fully off the trees now and the houses look sadder than they did before. Is it Thanksgiving yet? Did it pass? I shut down the thoughts of food as quickly as they start. My pack weighs heavy on my back.

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?” Wyatt asks. His eyes are narrow and watchful. His finger is on the trigger of the rifle crossed over the front of his body.  “There has to be a good reason you brought us back into an infested area even though we had a straight shot at the Fort.”

“No one invited you.”

“Humor me.”

“We left the SUV here.”

“Here?” I can tell he thinks it was a dumb idea.

“Davis’ plan.”

He shuts up at that piece of information and I roll my eyes. Davis gets a pass. Always.

Another two blocks and I spy the street sign. “It’s just down here,” I say. “We sort of ’rented’ space in a garage. It’s probably the safest place down here.”

I’m looking at him as we turn the corner of Spicer and Oak, his eyes scanning over my head. He grabs my jacket and jerks me back.

“Shit,” he whispers, pulling me away.

I follow his line of sight and gasp. Like a rolling swarm of insects, the street is alive. We’ve just come face-to-face with one large mass of hungry, spider-eyed Eaters charging toward us.

Chapter 21

We run. Wyatt limps and I keep one eye behind us. But it’s like they knew we were coming and any lead we had narrows quickly.

The street we’re on is full of empty, abandoned houses. Few have boarded up windows and would be swarmed instantly. Others are so overgrown it’s nearly impossible to locate the front door. Weeds and shrubs have overtaken sidewalks and porches. If we pick the wrong one, we’re trapped. If we don’t pick one soon, we’re dead.

I link my hand with Wyatt’s, swapping our standard roles. “Come on,” I tell him, pulling him one step further. I’ve got my eye on a faded yellow house on the corner. It’s up on a hill and a rusted, waist-high, chain link fence surrounds the property. I almost cry when I see the bar-covered windows. This was a bad neighborhood before the infection and these people had already built their fortress.

If we can get behind the fence and up the cement stairs leading to the porch, we may be okay.

“Alex,” he huffs next to me, arm holding his bruised ribs. He’s falling behind and it’s not supposed to end like this. He stops, wobbling on his feet and takes aim with his gun, firing it into the mob chasing us. Three Eaters fall. A dozen more lunge forward.

“No!” I shout as much to him as the Eater nipping at my heels. I stop and swing my hatchet, clipping her along the ear. Blood oozes out and she screams. His next shot runs clear through her forehead. It buys us a blip of time and I say, “Run, Wyatt. We’ve got to run.”

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

I don’t even have to think.

“Absolutely.”

The house is only twenty feet away. He points to his back and says, “Grab that case,” he says, loading bullets into his gun while we continue to move forward.

I yank off the black case and he takes it, checking the contents. “Run that way as far as you can. Just run and count to ten. Then throw that at the center of the horde.” He reaches into the case once again and says, “Count to ten. Run!”

We both bolt, taking off in opposite directions. He heads to the house and I pray he makes it. Without him holding me back I’m faster, and I race down the street counting down. When I reach ten I stop and spin, throwing the case back at the horde chasing me. Down the street I see Wyatt do the same, the glint of metal flying through the air. I reach for my gun but feel the jolt of the ground as it shudders, twin fireballs exploding on the road. I’m flung backwards from the force, my hands scraping along the pavement. I’m only down for a second, though, because the now-flaming Eaters continue toward me. My only saving grace is the debris and bodies littering the road that slow them down.

I spy Wyatt climbing the steps on his hands and knees, trying to get up to the porch of the house on the hill. Dodging the fiery remains of decimated Eaters, I make a final run for the property. I flip the gate latch but scream when the metal burns my hands. I tug my sleeves down to secure it back in place and slowly make my way up the steep incline.

At the top step I lower myself next to Wyatt, who looks close to passing out. I survey the scene on the street below. “I guess that’s one way to escape an Eater horde,” I say, resting back on my elbows. “You okay?”

He nods, eyes drooping. “Yeah, or at least, I will be.”

His shoulder leans into mine and I do the same. Night settles in and no one comes after us. No other Eaters arrive and the little neighborhood reverts back to the quiet, empty world we’ve become familiar with. Together, shoulder to shoulder, we watch the fires burn.

Chapter 22

The next morning, we’re lounging on the plaid sofa in the living room when there’s a knock on the front door of the yellow house.

“Expecting someone?” Wyatt says, his eyebrow raised in question.

“Actually, yeah.”

He doesn’t expect that answer, but he wouldn’t, so it’s not surprising when I see the black metal of his gun in his hand.

I frown at the gun but just say, “Don’t shoot unless I say so, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Pushing back the green and orange floral curtains, I peek out the bars on the windows. Three skinny kids wait on the front porch. The tallest, Devin, has a large gun propped on his shoulder and he looks out over the carnage from the night before.  I quickly flip the series of locks on the door and open it wide.

“Get in,” I tell the children, not hiding my smile. I shut and secure the door.  “I was hoping you’d find us.”

“You blew up the town. It wasn’t hard.” Devin looks around. “Where are the other people? That big dude and the Chinese guy and the girl?”

“Paul is Korean and they’re not with me. I’m here with my friend, Wyatt, but only because he followed me.” I jerk my thumb to the living room behind us and all three raise their weapons.

The children gape at the man on the couch and I assess him through their eyes. He looks no better than he did two days ago, although a bit of the swelling has subsided. The bruises on his face are now yellowing, giving him a sickly look. His gun is pointed back at theirs.

“Put the guns down,” I tell them. I shoot Wyatt a look. “All of you.”

He lowers his weapon but keeps his eye on the kids. “Alex, can you come here for a minute?”

I go over to my pack that I’d left by the front door the night before and dig out a couple of protein bars I’d found in the bunker. “Here, eat these and I’ll be back.”

They snatch the food out of my hands and tear into the packaging. The girl, Kori, looks up at me and says thank you around a mouthful. I enter the living room and sit next to Wyatt on the couch.

“Care to explain?”

I tell him about meeting the kids the first time around and how I’d made a mental vow to come back and at least check on them. “They have the SUV locked up in the garage. I brought them some food and supplies. I’m going to trade it to them to get the car back.”

“The car?” he frowns. “Driving that SUV into the cleared area to get to The Fort is suicide. They have check points and various gates to get through. It’s a completely different place than when you left. She’s got it locked tight.”

“I know.”

“Then what the hell are you doing?” But he knows. Realization dawns and he leans back into the corner of the couch and sighs. “You want to get caught.”

“It’s my best way inside.”

“You won’t get back out. You won’t get him back out.”

“I’m tired of running,” I confess. “I don’t want to fight Chloe again. I need to see Jane and see if I can at least reason with her. Erwin isn’t going to back down. You heard him. He’s going to keep building and growing his own Army and we’ll all die.” He opens his mouth to argue but I stop him. “You told me to play nice. To join her movement. I tried, and well, you know how that turned out. I did whatever everyone else wanted me to do. I helped for the Resistance. I fought, killed, and sabotaged. But I owe it to my father, my dead mother, and the rest of the world to try to knock some sense into my sister.”

He shakes his head. “It’s a terrible plan.”

“I didn’t invite you to come, remember?”

He catches her eye and holds my gaze. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I suggest you rest up for a couple of days and get these kids back to the Center. Take them to Erwin. He may be a vengeful bastard but he has the resources to take care of them.” I look down the hall and watch them on the floor. They’re rummaging through the rest of the food in my pack. “God knows how they lasted this long. It’s only a matter of time before Jane and the Hybrids push this way.”

I move to stand but Wyatt catches my hand and pulls me back down on the couch. We’re thigh to thigh and he brushes my hair over my shoulder, resting his hand on the back of my neck. My skin burns from his touch. “You’re something else, Alexandra Ramsey.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re crazy and impulsive and I’m starting to suspect everyone in your family has a little bit of a God complex.” I frown because he’s not headed where I expected. He runs his thumb gently along my jaw. “But if anyone can stop her, it’s you.”

“You really think so?”

He doesn’t reply, because no, he doesn’t think so, but this is the best Wyatt can give me. He understands a mission and carrying the boulder of failure. He knows about righting wrongs. This burden may not be mine alone to take on, but I may just be the only one that can do it.

*

Wyatt rests a hand on the back of the SUV and says, “Unless you hit a snag, the gas should get you to at least the first gate.” Then for the third time today he asks, “You sure you want to do this alone?”

“They’ll kill you, Wyatt. You and I both know it.”

“Oh yeah, that traitor thing.” He rubs the beard growing thick on his chin. “I forgot about that.”

A shout from the porch catches our attention but it’s just Devin talking to his brother and sister. If I’m reading the scene right, they’re in the middle of reenacting the Eater inferno from two days before. “Thanks for taking care of them,” I say. “We can’t leave them out here.”

“You sure? They’ve done an okay job so far.” But I know he’s joking and that in the last twenty-four hours he’d developed a soft spot for them. Particularly Garrett, the youngest boy.

We stand by the car. I don’t know about him, but I feel awkward. We’ve parted before but never like this. It’s always been in the heat of the battle and usually he just vanishes. We made a deal a long time ago to stick together. It was the right deal for us to make when we made it. It kept us both alive, but time and circumstances have changed us.

“You’ll stick with Erwin?” I ask, because I want to know where he’ll be if I make it out of the Fort alive.

“For a while at least. Now that my ties with Jane are severed it’s probably the best place for me.” His eyes bore into mine but it’s not the time or place to open lingering questions. “Don’t be afraid to use everything you’ve got, hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you.” I look up into his clear hazel eyes. “Good luck, Wyatt.”

I side step him to get in the front seat but he cuts me off, slipping an arm around my waist. He pulls me close and I’m engulfed in the heat of his chest—the warmth of his arms around my back. He doesn’t smell good but it’s not awful. It’s familiar. It’s the smell of the body that fought with me. Killed for me. Kept the monsters at bay. I clench my arms around him and squeeze tight.

“Go,” he says, releasing me. He nearly shoves me in the car and refuses to make further eye contact. I get inside and he shuts the door, stepping back to the sidewalk.

It’s not until he’s out of sight that I say a quick prayer of hope that I may see him again.

Chapter 23

For once, I don’t hit a snag.

The gate stands tall before me and the fence stretches across the highway through the tree line, as far as I can see. It’s built from trucks and cars and antiquated school buses that make me think of the three kids I just left behind.

The structure towers over me as I turn off the car as directed by the Fighter standing guard. His gun glints in the daylight and before he can offer me whatever standard greeting they’ve been told to give, I inform him, “My name is Alexandra Ramsey. I’m here to see my sister.”

He blinks once and starts shouting, “Get on the ground! Face down! Don’t make a move!”  I follow orders but he shoves me to the ground anyway. My cheek grates against the pavement and his boot presses against my back. I’m frisked for weapons that I explain to him are in the car. Additional Fighters pour out of the gate searching for my back-up, guns raised, fingers on the trigger. They’re expecting a battle, but soon enough they’ll realize it’s just me.

A crow flies overhead followed by a pair of hawks, all witness to my fate. I’m lifted from the ground by my neck, my car and belongings confiscated. The gates slowly open and I’m pushed inside.

In five minutes and without firing a shot, I go from Wanted to Captured.

*

Handcuffed and chained, I’m shoved into the backseat of a Jeep and driven to the main entrance of The Fort. We pass through miles of cleared areas and I’m stunned with the improvements Jane has made in such a short period of time. The city streets are clean. Civilians walk up and down the sidewalks with purpose. I spot a functioning school and more than one church has its front doors open.

“You guys have been working hard,” I say to the stone-faced Fighter. He doesn’t bother with a reply.

We pass through a second but smaller fence line, and the Fighters working the gate stare at me as we pass. The best way to describe it is it’s as though they’re gawking at me like I’m a celebrity. I hold up my bound hands and wave.

A few minutes later the Jeep approaches the more familiar barricade surrounding PharmaCorp. It’s been improved. Less makeshift. More grand. It’s fitting that my sister’s Fortress would require something more lavish. For the first time, I acknowledge the foolishness of my plan. My sister, The Director, views herself as the Queen of this mighty fortress. Her ego must be nearly impenetrable.

The vehicle lurches to a stop and we’re surrounded by Fighters. They jerk me from the back, flanking me from all sides. “You guys are significantly overestimating my skills,” I joke. I’m weaponless and restrained.

AKA: Screwed.

We go through a small door built into the fence and I’m ushered directly into quarantine. Female guards watch as I strip down to my Erwin-issued gray underpants and tank and my clothes are tossed in the burn bin. I step behind the curtain and wait for the nurse.

“Alex?”

“Amber?” I see the familiar blonde that I met months ago when I first came to PharmaCorp. She was stationed at the Vaccine Center with us before our escape. To be honest, I’m a little surprised she’s still alive.  “What are you doing here?”

“I got transferred back a few weeks ago.” She eyes me carefully. “I heard they were looking for you.”

“Not anymore.”

She starts her evaluation, but we both know I’m fine. Before she sends me to the shower she whispers. “I heard about the Center. We’re not supposed to know but we had a huge number of injured personnel come through about a week ago. If you see Wyatt, thank him for me.”

“What for?”

“He’s the one that got me moved off that assignment. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he saved my life.”

I smile. “You’ll probably see him before I do but yeah, that sounds like him.”

“Good luck,” she tells me and again leans close. “Something’s going on around here. I’m not sure what, but people are nervous.”

“The Hybrids?”

She shivers. “So far they keep us separated. The Hybrids are strictly for military purposes but increasingly I’m seeing them around the civilian areas.”

“I guess they’re not exactly suited for medical or childcare.”

“Yeah or serving food in the cafeteria.” She snorts. “But seriously, something is different.”

“Have you seen my sister?”

“Not like we used to. No more community meetings.” She shrugs and hands me a towel. “It’s probably nothing and I’m just way out of the loop. But it’s a feeling I’m getting.”

I shower, happy to wash the dirt and grime off my body. I’m covered in soot and dirt. Blood is caked beneath my fingers. The last week washes off of me and  even with the dread in my stomach, I feel better by the time I put on a fresh set of clothes.

I expected to be given the same uniform as everyone else but not today. I’m dressed in a dull gray shirt and plain blue cotton pants. Flimsy, slide on slippers finish the prison look, and it’s clear as we exit the quarantine building and head to a tunnel I’m unfamiliar with, that’s exactly where I’m headed.

Chapter 24

My cell is part of the laboratory quarantine system on one of the basement levels of PharmaCorp. There are no windows and the doors bolt shut from the outside. I have a mattress on the floor and a stainless steel sink and toilet in the corner, connected to the Fort’s extensive plumbing system. Meals come three times a day, and after two days I’m not sure if there are other prisoners down here. So far I’ve only seen a series of rotating guards.

There’s a small sconce light next to the door but it seems to be on a motion timer. If I’m still for too long, the light flicks off and I’m just left with the small strip that comes from under the crack in the door. I don’t mind. I use the time to sleep. Surviving the apocalypse is exhausting and I feel safer behind this locked door than I have anywhere else in a long time. Maybe it’s knowing I’m in the belly of my enemy. Or maybe I’m just too tired to care. I do know that I have no desire to escape, and even though I tell this to the guards, they still treat me like I’m a level one threat.

I’m on my eighth meal when I hear the bolt slide. The door opens but I don’t stop chewing the hard piece of bread. “Get up,” the guard says. I don’t recognize him from before.

I grab the three pieces of chicken off my tray and shove one piece in my mouth and tuck the others up my sleeve. You never know when you’ll get your next meal.

At the end of the long hallway we step into a waiting freight elevator. I’m still leery of riding up and down in the enclosed boxes. Electricity isn’t reliable anymore—even here—and as we climb higher and higher my stomach churns with nerves.

I exhale when the car slows and we exit on a long, windowless hallway. The walls are painted a stark white and the floor carpeted in a similar shade. I think for a moment that I’m just in another cell, but I finally make out the door blended into the wall at the far end of the hallway. There are no other doorways, no wall décor and I’m utterly confused when the guard nudges me forward. “Walk to the door and wait.”

I stare at her. “Wait for what?”

“Just wait.”

She steps back into the elevator.

“You’re leaving?” I ask, but the shiny, steel doors close between us and I’m alone. I reach for the button pad and am shocked not to find one. Glancing over my shoulder, I see the door at the end of the hall. Out of options, I walk to the end of the hall and slide to the ground, sitting on the plush carpet, and for once, do as I’m told.

*

I wait for so long that I’m startled when I hear the click and I jump, banging my head against the wall. A thin line of drool is wet on my chin and yeah, I fell asleep in the hall of whiteness. I do manage to wipe my face and get to a standing position before the door opens fully. I’m not exactly surprised to see Jane standing in the opening.

What does stun me is when she pulls me into a tight, bone-cracking hug. I’m not even sure how to react to her thin arms wrapped around me. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“Uh,” I mumble into her shoulder. I’ve got my eyes on the room behind her and take in the comfortable, clean couches and small spotless kitchen. A wide wall of windows looks over the expansive Savannah River and I am dumbfounded by the luxury my sister lives in while the rest of the world falls apart.

She releases me and pulls me into the swank apartment. “I’ve been so worried,” she says, more flustered than I’ve ever seen her. “Are you hungry? I’m sure you are. I apologize for the meager meals. I didn’t want the guards to get suspicious.”

I watch her, in sheer confusion, as she walks into the kitchen and pulls out a loaf of homemade bread and a jar of peanut butter and even better, strawberry jam. Then a plate and silverware. Again, oblivious. I mean, who needs silverware when you have fingers? “I don’t keep a lot of food up here, but take what you want. There’s some dried fruit in the cabinet.”

I do go to the kitchen and my eyes land on the knife she left on the counter. I stare at it for a moment before using it to slather peanut butter all over a thick slice of bread. Nothing that is happening right now makes sense, but food? It always makes sense.

She leans over the counter and watches me take a bite. “How’s Dad? Is he okay?”

I chew and swallow. “Dad was fine when I left him a few days ago. I mean, other than the obvious stress of knowing his spawn set the end of the world on fire, but you know. He’s good.”

“Oh, good.” She looks visibly relieved despite my snarky response. “When Chloe took him…I panicked. I truly panicked.”

“He chose to go, you know. Chloe didn’t take him.”

I lick the peanut butter off the knife and tuck it under my sleeve, before leaving the small kitchen area.

“Yes, but I specifically told both of them he was not to leave the facility, not after almost getting killed the last time he snuck out to meet you.” I shrug and eat my sandwich. “I understand you’re angry,” she says as I wander around, peeking in the open door of her bedroom. A travel bag sits on top of the bed. “But you need to understand that things have not exactly gone according to plan.”

I face her and force my face into something that reflects reason. “No? That taking over the world thing didn’t turn out the way you wanted?”

“That’s not—” she starts, but we both know the truth and she stops. “I’ve done a terrible thing.”

“You think?” I can barely contain my anger. “You’ve completely destroyed society! Society, Jane! You brought the country to the brink of extinction and then,” I shout, “then you compounded the issue by creating genetically modified monsters to do your bidding. It’s insane! You’re insane!”

She crumbles on her three thousand dollar ultra-suede couch and drops her face into her hands. “I thought I could fix things. I thought I could weed out the bad and protect the innocent.” She looks up at me, her eyes wild. “I thought I could make the world a better place.”

I stare at my sister. My deranged, brilliant sister. “You’re unstable, like, for real. Do you know that?”

She stands abruptly and rushes past me to the bedroom, proving my point about instability. She opens drawers, pulling out pieces of clothing before rummaging through her closet. “You may be right but it’s too late to psychoanalyze my mental health. What I do know is that we’re running out of time. I can get us out of here, though.”

“What? You’re leaving your empire?” I hold my hands up. “You created all this.”

“I did, but I’m no longer in control—well, not for much longer, at least.”

She darts past me again and I yank on both of her arms to get her to stop moving. “If you’re not in control—then who is?”

“The Hybrids.”

Chapter 25

I watch as she continues to pack her bag, and the only thing I can think of is that she’s bringing the wrong things for an escape into the Death Fields. Socks and underwear, I want to tell her. Shoes that are already worn in and fit. I walk to the kitchen, grab the jar of peanut butter and take it back to the bedroom, handing it over.

“What’s this?”

“Pack it. Trust me.”

I haven’t asked her about the Hybrids and how they took over. Do I need to? Every step of my sister’s career is a cautionary tale on genetic warfare and manipulation. Don’t do it. Wyatt may have been on to something about the Ramseys and their God complexes.

“So what’s your plan?” I ask, eyeing the overflowing bag. She’ll have to get rid of at least one pair of shoes. “Run away?”

She holds up a makeup bag and considers its dimensions. “Actually, yes.”

“So you’re just going to let the Hybrids take over? Let them have this entire territory?”

“For now, yes. I don’t have any other choice.”

“There are survivors out there, Jane. A lot of them. Children. Your Fighters that Erwin has taken prisoner. You’re willing to let them fall into the hands of the Hybrids?”

She glances up at me and brushes her dark bangs out of her eyes. “They’re taking over PharmaCorp as we speak. Infiltrating the guard and Fighters. Hacking into the labs and computer systems that carry the genetic codes and vaccines. I’ve set up what protective barriers I could, but it’s only bought me so much time.”

“Who is doing this?” I ask her. “It can’t be the mindless army of Hybrids. I’ve seen them. They don’t have an original thought in their head. Someone has to—” I stop. “Chloe? This is her work?”

“Yep. I gave her the first shot, thinking she could be my first in command. Most of the Hybrids have a flaw—something that makes them unqualified for the Fighters or as a civilian worker. I needed someone flawless to lead them. Little did I know there was a glitch that would cause her to rise up and take over.”

“Why don’t you kill her? Can’t you stop her?”

She looks at me like I’ve slapped her. “You don’t think I’ve tried? Why do you think I’ve allowed your little Resistance to continue?”

We stare at one another and I can tell from her expression there’s no other way. She holds up a metal case. “I have everything I need in here. Back-up files. A small supply of vaccines. I’m not giving up on what I’ve built, but I can’t fight them from here.”

“This is crazy—even for you.”

She shrugs. “By daybreak tomorrow I expect they’ll have full control, and if I’m still in the building they’ll kill me. Same with you.”

“So you’re taking me with you?”

“If you’re willing to go.”

“And if I don’t?”

Her face softens and she takes my hand. “I know you have friends out there—it’s the one thing you always did better than me. You connect with people. You have genuine relationships. It’s one of the reasons I picked Chloe in the first place. I knew she was your friend and I thought it may help you come around to seeing that this wasn’t such a bad idea.”

“It was an awful idea.”

“I didn’t know that then!” She inhales and recomposes herself. “The best thing you can do for your friends is help me stop this. They would tell you the same thing. Not one of them would want you to sacrifice yourself and the future of mankind in an attempt to save them. Not even Dad.”

“I’ll think about it,” I tell her. “Give me a couple of hours.”

She zips up the bag and nods.  “That’s all you’ve got.”

*

Jane makes a call and I return to the hallway. The same guard arrives and I brace myself for the ride, clutching my stomach as the elevator zips to the basement. I search the guard’s face for any signal that she’s aware of what’s about to happen at the Fort, but she’s a blank slate. In another life I may have warned her. I don’t think I’m that girl anymore.

Nothing has changed on my isolated cellblock and from the limited details given to me by Jane, I think I’m the only one here. Actual criminals are sent to the Hybrid programs.  I step into my room and sit on the bed. The guard closes and bolts the door, leaving me in the dark.

A movement in the corner catches my eye and I jump to my feet, slipping the knife I stole upstairs into my palm. I hold it next to my leg and squint. “Who’s there?

“It’s me,” Cole replies, stepping into the minimal light. He’s dressed in black, his hair clean and combed. He looks taller. Different.

I exhale with relief and drop the knife on the mattress. “You’re alive,” I whisper-cry, moving for him. Without hesitation I run my hands up his arms, across his chest and touch his face. He’s solid as a rock. My rock.

“I heard you were brought in after pulling some stunt out at the front gate,” he says. “It took me days to figure out where they were holding you.”

“It wasn’t a stunt,” I say. “I surrendered.”

“Why in the world would you do that?”

“To get inside.” I glance around the bare room. “The hidden cell is Jane’s idea, I guess. I’ve been down here catching up on my sleep.”

“There are worse things.” He touches my cheek.

“Tell me what happened,” I say, trying to connect with his blue eyes in the faint light. The eyes that provide me with sanity when the whole world is going to hell. It’s too dark and I don’t like not seeing his face.

“I’m sure you can guess. Chloe and I were fighting when the Center came down. I thought I had her and if it had just been the two of us maybe, I could have held onto her.”

“But the Hybrids showed up. I saw them just before we went below.”

“Yep. They steamrolled me. I had no chance. One of them knocked me out and the next thing I know I’m back here with a nasty concussion and a broken arm.”

I frown, feeling his arms again, but there’s no split or cast. His biceps are hard with muscle. “You seem okay now.”

“They patched me up. It wasn’t as bad as it seemed. More like strained—I guess I exaggerated a little.”

“No need to play tough with me. I’ve seen you in action. Plus,” I add, touching him once again. “You’re still here. That’s enough for me. Does Jane even know?”

Jane didn’t mention Cole once. And I didn’t bring him up either, not wanting to give up his importance to me. She’s already proven bad things happen to my friends. There was no way to get to him, locked up in this cell, and I’d been singularly focused on getting into the building and to my sister with the intent of stopping her. It never occurred to me that he’d be roaming freely in the building.

He bends, pressing his forehead to mine; it’s intimate but I wrap my arms around his back. He feels different—harder. I wait in the dark for a kiss—for something, but he starts speaking in a low tone, close to my ear. “Jane has no idea I’m back in the building. After our fight, my sister revealed she still has a soft spot for me. I guess even Jane’s Hybrid vaccine can’t wipe away all of our genetic memory. She offered me another chance and I took her up on it. I’m on the inside, Alex, just like we’d planned all along. I think with a little more time we can stop this whole thing.”

For the first time in days I’m filled with hope. Particularly after my talk with Jane. Maybe she doesn’t have to abandon PharmaCorp. Maybe there’s another way and Cole is the path towards it.

“And she trusts you?” I ask.

“She’s my sister. Why wouldn’t she trust me?”

I almost laugh—because I have a little history on why I wouldn’t trust my sibling. In fact, I still don’t trust her, but here I am, considering working with her again. “So, you’ve gained her confidence. That must have been hard to do.”

“It’s been a challenge, but we all make sacrifices during war.”

We’re still close together, whispering so the guard won’t hear. I tilt my head and ask, “Have you heard any rumors about Jane and her leadership?”

He pulls back. “Why would you ask? Did a guard say something?”

“No, I just overheard something when I came in. Like that things are weird. Maybe people are scared.” His body stiffens and the hairs pinprick on my neck. He knows something. Something he doesn’t want to share. “Maybe the Resistance is working?”

“Maybe so,” he replies, all hesitation gone. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

“Well, then tell me what we’re going to do? What’s the next step? Can you get me out of here?” I have information on Jane, and if I tell Cole and he informs Chloe, she can stop it before Jane leaves.

But what if Jane is right? What if Chloe has bigger plans? Worse plans? I try again to see Cole’s face to assess what he’s really thinking but it’s too dark.

When you have to pick between two devils, which one do you choose?

“I want to get you out of here but I can’t. Not yet. But don’t worry, I’ll come back for you soon. You’ll know the signals. Then we’ll take out The Director.”

I have other questions to ask but he rests his hands on my hips. He tugs me off balance and I crash into his solid chest. I feel his lips on mine, the familiar spark flaring between us. This time though, there’s something more. His lips are demanding. Urgent. His fingers move under my shirt, digging into the soft flesh of my sides. He lifts me, bringing my face closer to his. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers, before pressing me against the wall.

I’ve never been handled like this, certainly not by Cole. He’s always been a little tentative. My innocent, sweet Lab Guy, under the exterior of an apocalypse survivor. Now the latter is in charge and my stomach burns with a mixture of feelings. His mouth moves to my throat and his hands to my backside and I wonder, truly wonder, where all of this is headed when there’s a sound outside the door. He grunts displeasure before separating.

I catch my breath and slide my hand up his arm, over the hard, lean muscles to his shoulder. I clutch the fabric in my hand, steadying myself. Before that kiss, I almost told him everything I knew about Jane and her plans.

Almost.

He pecks me on the cheek and walks by the bed, leaning over quickly in a move I barely see, it’s so fast.

“I’ll be back,” he says, straightening his uniform and banging on the door once with his fist. The guard slides the bolt on the other side and opens the door, bathing the small cell in yellow light.

It’s here that I can finally see Cole’s eyes. The familiar ice blue, muted and dark. I see the purple bands that I felt stitched to the shoulders of his uniform. My hand goes to my mouth, touching my swollen lips, and I fight back a gag.

Chloe must have accepted Cole’s return on one condition.

He had to turn Hybrid.

Chapter 26

The bolt slides and I’m scared. Maybe more scared than I’ve been in a long, long time. Eaters I can handle. Death is something I’ve come to accept. Even the Hybrids are a force I acknowledge, but Cole being one of them isn’t.

Hours pass and I do nothing but sit on the mattress, knees to my chest, and run the encounter with Cole through my mind. I don’t know when it clicked. The minute I saw him in the corner of my room? When he kissed me? At any rate, something triggered the warning signal in my brain and I knew before I saw him in the light that something had changed in my soulful, sweet friend.

He didn’t seem like a monster, but maybe that was just my bias playing tricks on me. Maybe I wanted him to be the same and I humanized him. His lips, as well as other parts of his body, certainly felt human.

My stomach rumbles and it feels like it’s time for the third meal of the day. It feels long past time for a bathroom visit, but my guard never appears. I eye the unused bucket in the corner.

Both Cole and Jane told me to keep an eye out for something happening. Cole was a little vague, but with their information put together a larger plan unfolds. I guess the question for me is who will get to me first. My fate may be decided for me.

I stand and go to the door. “Hey,” I yell, slapping my palm against the cool metal. “Can I get some food down here? I missed lunch!”

I wait for movement. The echo of the guard’s boots, but I’m met with silence. Pressing my ear against the door, I’m sure there’s no one out there.

“Perfect,” I say to the empty room. “There’s a revolution starting up somewhere and I’m locked in the freaking basement.”

I don’t have to wait long before I’m startled by the shrieking alarm echoing down the hallway, bouncing off the walls. I press my ear to the door and hear a muffled voice—no, an announcement—issuing directions.

“This is not a test. This is a code one emergency. All members of the community should follow the evacuation procedures.”

Jane was right. It’s happening and there’s little I can do but wait.

Footsteps echo down the hall and I scramble to my feet, wondering if it’s smarter to get their attention or wait. In the end, it’s a decision I don’t have to make—the door flings open, revealing a Fighter in full black, chin and nose covered. The stitching over his heart says, Rowe.

“…not a test. This is a code one emergency. All members of the community should follow the evacuation procedures…”

“Move!” he yells, over the ear-splitting alarm, while waving a massive gun at me. I do what he says.

There’s only one direction to go, down the hall and toward the elevator. I really don’t want to get in that thing. Fortunately, there seems to be an alternative, and he faces the wall and lifts the cover for a key pad I hadn’t noticed in my limited time out of the cell. A quick swipe makes it light up green and a door slides open.

“That way. Go.”

We pass through the door and it slides shut behind us, the alarm is louder here, or at least it seems to be. We’re in a hall that looks vaguely familiar. I grab Rowe by the arm. “Where are we going? Can you just tell me that?”

“Follow me and maybe you’ll get out of here alive.”

He charges forward and we pass windowless rooms, including one with a warning sign over the door. “Is this the firing range?”

“Yeah, along with weapons R&D,” he replies, stopping at a corner. He peers around the side. He jerks back and holds his gun in two hands. A line of workers, identified by their uniforms, race down the hallway. Over the alarm, my ears are barraged by a series of rapid shots. Two gun-toting, black-clad Hybrids follow the workers. I have enough sense to duck and hide.

…This is not a test. This is a code one emergency… the voice drones on and I exhale when the Hybrids pass.  Rowe reaches into his pocket and offers me something. “Take it.”

I hold out my hand and raise an eyebrow at the weight. It’s a gun. “You trust me with this?”

“Like I said, if you want to get out here alive you’re going to need to follow me.” He looks at me. “I’m one of the good guys, Alexandra.”

I shake my head and check the gun for bullets. This guy has no clue that there are no good guys anymore. Just different shades of bad.

We go the opposite direction of those that just passed, edging down the hallway. Training rooms line the hall and a hint of copper lingers in the air. Rowe tenses and hairs prickle on my neck. We turn the corner.

“Oh God,” I say, covering my mouth, trying not to vomit. Two dying fighters are sprawled on the floor. But that’s not what makes my stomach recoil. Four severely decayed Eaters gnaw at their flesh, so consumed by their need to spread the infection they don’t even notice us.

Rowe takes them out, including the Fighters, with a bullet to the brain before I can react. More blood spills on the floor, pooling under the bodies, and the stench is horrific, amplified by the sterile environment. The alarm shrieks overhead but I hear more howls from more Eaters nearby. Raising my weapon, I search down the hall and see dozens milling around an open door.

“What’s happening down here? I don’t understand.”

Rowe gestures to the sparring room ahead. “The Hybrids have taken over the upper floors. The basement had to be compromised for us to make our escape.”

“Who let them in? How did they get here?” But I know Eaters are brought in for fights in the room in front of us and there are holding areas behind the room. “This was intentional?”

“It was necessary to buy the Director time to escape. She placed you in the basement quarantine cells for a reason.”

There’s nothing like the feeling of being one step behind while a bunch of infected monsters wait between you and possible freedom.

Rowe continues, “The only way out is through the tunnels leading to that room.”

“That’s the only way out? Seriously?”

“Take your pick, Alexandra. You can go back upstairs and join them and by join them I mean become one of them. Or you fight it out with me and we meet up with your sister and get the hell out of here.”

“Become one? They’re transforming everyone into Hybrids?”

“That’s the plan.”

I eye him skeptically. “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been collecting intel from Chloe’s team of rogue fighters for a while now.”

“You’ve been playing both sides?” But I knew there were others. The Resistance was aware of spies—people like Wyatt. With zero hesitation, I take a gun from the fallen Fighter and pry the bloody blade from his hand. He tried. I’ll try harder.

“My sister is waiting for us?”

“On the other side of the tunnel.”

“The tunnel, I assume, is on the other side of all those Eaters.”

“Affirmative.”

I look to the ceiling and brush my hair out of my eyes, muttering a sarcastic thanks, because God forbid she make this easy on me. “Whatever,” I say to Rowe, who is eyeing the incoming Eaters like it’s just another day in his life. “I’m ready when you are.”

One thing is for certain, I think as I follow him toward certain death, I’m determined to get to the end of the tunnel just to kick Jane’s ass.

*

I take an elbow to the jaw and dirty hands claw at my arms. Everything is too loud, the never-ending alarm, the bone chilling howls of the Eaters and the painful ringing in my ears from the explosive device Rowe detonated so we could get through the door.

“Get off!” I scream, kicking a filthy Eater. She looks ancient in her housecoat and curlers, but who can tell anymore. There’s nothing but a haze of monsters between me and my destination. The woman flings backwards, toppling over the feet of the Eater next to her and I stab her in the temple, the knife pushing into her brain and the murderous light extinguishes from her black spidery eyes.

“I told you to leave me alone,” I mutter. In a quick move, I slash the throat of the lunging man behind her and then the same to two others.

It’s merely a drop in the bucket and assessing the space between us and the tunnel leading to the ring, the odds aren’t looking good. My muscles ache and my stupid shoes slip on the floor. I don’t have pockets and my pants are held up by elastic. I ran out of bullets five minutes ago. If Jane wanted me to get out of here alive she could have dressed me for the occasion.

“I’m fading,” I yell at Rowe, who’s fighting like a machine. He spins and points his gun at me.

“Down!” He shouts and I duck as he fires twice over my head. Two Eaters fall hard to the ground, one tipping into me, and pinning me to the ground.

Rowe tosses a body off of me and helps me off the ground. “Get to the cage. I’ll cover you.”

An Eater’s veiny hand reaches for his shoulder, grabbing him from behind and in a flash he’s back in the fight, elbowing the man with a sharp crack to the face.

My feet slide, looking for traction, but I run as fast and as hard as I can. The Eaters are slow moving and there are so, so many, but I hear the crack of Rowe’s gun taking them out one by one. They fall like amusement park targets and I jump over arms and legs and decapitated heads strewn on the floor. I don’t know how long he can last—how far his bullets will go—but I’m determined not to waste his effort. The cage is close and I just have to get to the doors on the side.

“The ladder,” Rowe shouts, his voice urgent. He’s right behind me and I frantically look for the steps that lead into the ring.

“It’s not there!”

“Shit.” He pushes past me, dragging him with me. The Eaters are less now. Rowe did a good job of cleaning them out and with the bodies blocking their path it takes them longer to get to us. We have a minute. Probably only a minute, but I’ll take it.

“Once we’re inside,” Rowe says, breathing heavily, “the tunnel is in the back. It’s been cleared and it’s a straight shot down to the docks.”

“The docks?” He offers me a boost and I put my foot in his hands. He lifts me to the small ledge leading to the door.

“Yep--right out on the river.”

My fingers slip on the latch, oily with blood and ooze, but I get it open and step inside. Rowe jumps on the ledge, Eaters lunging for his feet. He stands and slams the clear Plexiglass door in one monster’s face.

The alarm and recorded voice come to an abrupt stop, leaving us in relative quiet. My mind is thankful, although the chorus of Eater moans on the other side of the glass is another reminder we can’t rest.

Well, maybe for a minute.

My back is against the solid, clear wall, ignoring the hands and banging as they try desperately to get to us. My feet leave bloody footprints on the white canvas floor.

“I can’t believe we made it,” I say, exhaling.

“That was tough, but we’ve got to get moving. It took longer than expected.”

I nod, gaining the energy to make the final journey. I move slower than I’d like on my weary legs, and when the back door opens suddenly, Rowe steps protectively in front of me.

Cole stands in the doorway, looking crisp and official in his Hybrid uniform. I’m so tired I don’t even react, which is unwise because he pulls out a gun and without warning, shoots Rowe square in the chest. The man drops his own weapon and falls to his knees and then on his side.

I gasp and drop to my knees, taking his hands.

“Never stop, Alexandra.” The light flickers out of his eyes. I stare helplessly at the Fighter on the floor.

“What the hell, Cole? He was helping me!”

He holsters his gun and walks toward me. “It’s not his job to help you. He disobeyed direct orders from the Commander.”

“The Commander?” I don’t know why I even asked. The answer is obvious.

He steps over Rowe’s body like it’s nothing but a stain on the floor. “Chloe is in charge now and this man is a traitor. It was my duty to eliminate the threat.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I have no idea where this is going, but I keep my eye on his gun and my grip tight on my knife. “You said you were here to infiltrate and keep fighting, but that was a lie. You have no intention of stopping your sister, do you?”

“No.”

I know there’s no reasoning with a Hybrid. They follow their leader’s every command. This is why the flaws in Chloe’s vaccine caused a problem. Too much independent thought on top of the hyped-up rage and aggression.  I stare at Cole. The man who protected me and took care of me for miles and miles of hardship and battle. I know he’s in there—under the dark Hybrid eyes—beneath the lean muscular body.

“So you’re taking me back to her?” I ask, avoiding his eyes. It hurts to see him like this. “You’ll vaccinate me with that poison and turn me into another droid? Because I’d rather die, Cole. I would. I would rather turn into one of those nasty monsters out there and roam aimlessly though life until the birds and the bugs finish me off.”

He reaches for me and I have a flash of earlier in my cell. I’d wanted him then, but it was before I knew what he’d become. I twist and fight to stay out of his grasp but he’s too big. Too tall. He pulls me against his chest and I stare at Rowe’s unmoving body on the floor.

“There are forces at play that I can’t explain,” he whispers in my ear. “You’ll understand one day.”

His fingers grapple with mine and I feel the familiar grip of my hatchet. I look up and for the briefest moment, I spy the man I once trusted.

“We’re responsible for our family,” he says. “Even now. You take care of yours and I’ll take care of mine.”

With a move so fast it could only be performed by the genetically enhanced, he forces my hand, ramming the hatchet blade into his gut. I step back, holding the bloody weapon in my hand.

“Cole!”

He bends, clutching his stomach. Bright red blood pours through his fingers and he glances up at my stunned, unmoving face, his hair backlit like an angel’s halo.

“Run, Alexandra.”

I run.

Alexandra’s story continues in thrilling next installment, The Girl Who Kissed the Sun, Book 4 of The Death Fields Series.  Read below for a sneak peek at the first section of The Girl Who Kissed the Sun!

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THANK YOU!
To all the amazing readers, reviewers and supporters of TGW books! I can’t tell you how much of a whirlwind the last three months have been. This series, one that started off as a struggle for me, has turned into the most inspired series I’ve worked on so far. I am having a ball creating this world and helping Alexandra and her friends fight the evils of this world. I just want you to know that TGW #1 was seriously the little engine that could until I recovered and rebooted it earlier this year. I’m so happy it found a group that appreciates and enjoys dystopian/post-apocalyptic/zombie fests like I do.

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See you in a few weeks!

Angel

Alexandra

Savannah River, Georgia

Run.

That was the last word Cole said to me as he bled out on the sparring ring floor. He’d done the damage himself, pushing the hatchet handle into my hands before slicing his stomach like a fish.

His command rings in my ears, haunting me as we travel up the cold Savannah River where my sister’s small boat carries us away from the Chloe-led Hybrid takeover at the Fort. The sharp wind slaps my cheeks, freezing the blood from the Eaters that Rowe and I had killed in our attempt to escape.

“He’s dead,” I yell at my sister over the wind and hum of the engine. “Rowe. He died protecting me.”

Cole shot him without remorse, rambling about betrayal and orders from his new Commander—the new Commander of the genetically modified Hybrid Army, his twin sister Chloe.

“Did you hear me?” I shout, waiting for a reaction from my dethroned sister to the fact one of her men died, but she continues to look over the water unblinking. For a minute I think she can’t hear me over the noise but that’s not true. She hears. She just doesn’t care.

Chapter 1

We take the river as far as it will go, until we enter the wide, smooth waters of Lake Oconee. There, we take our pick of vacation homes, settling on a cedar plank cabin with fewer windows and isolated land.

Jane brought along three loyal Fighters. Rowe would have been the fourth. One of the men—Jackson—is quiet and efficient. A little bit like Davis, although he’s tall and lanky. He’s quick and precise. He keeps his black hair cut close. His brown eyes are alert.

Green is nearly the opposite. Pale white skin to contrast Jackson’s dark. He’s short and thick, more muscle than anything else. At least that’s my guess from the cut of his shoulders and chest. I’m caught off guard when he pulls off the black stocking cap and reveals a shock of red hair. It’s like a beacon. He catches me eyeing it and rubs his hand over the flaming hair. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I keep it covered. It’s like a target, right?”

I smile. I think I like him—he reminds me of Jude.

The third Fighter is familiar, and when we get off the boat we stare at one another uneasily.

“It’s been a long time,” Walker says, the first to break the tension. I’d last seen her months ago when we escaped from the Vaccine Center. So much has happened during that time.

“It has. It’s good to see you.”

She looks me up and down. “How’s the rest of the team?”

That’s a question I don’t want to answer. Or think about. I’ve done all I can to keep them out of mind. Cole the Hybrid. Wyatt the maybe-more-than-friend. I think about leaving him with the kids, Devin, Kori, and Garrett, with the hope he can get them somewhere safe. I left Davis, Parker, and Jude at Erwin’s latest camp without a goodbye. I swallow their memories like a lump in my throat.

“Alive when I left.” I tilt my head. “But that was before I knew about Chloe’s takeover. I’d come to talk some sense into my sister and ran into a coup instead.”

Her lips twitch. “Not sure if that was bad or good timing.”

“Me either,” I agree. “How did you end up with Jane?”

“She brought me in when you guys ran. I thought she was going to execute me for treason. Instead, she made me part of her personal guard.”

“Keep your enemies close or something like that?” That’s twice that Jane has taken in someone who works closely with me under her wing. Three if you count Wyatt, although he’s a man with his own mission, so who knows how much influence she had with him.

“She kept me alive just when things were getting dicey. I’ll do the same for her,” she says, summing up the entirety of Walker’s philosophy on life in two short sentences.

She tosses me my backpack, the one I left in the SUV when I surrendered.

“Thanks,” I say, tugging the blanket I found on the boat over my shoulders for warmth, then I head inside the house.

The chill of late fall clings to the house and it feels colder inside than out. Dust coats every surface, heaviest on items like the flat screen TV hanging uselessly on the wall. The cabin is comfortable though. The owners decorated it nicely and despite the musty smell, it’s free from the stench of death. It doesn’t take long to find what we need. Heavy quilts and canned food in the pantry. A pallet of bottled water in the garage.  Jane enters with her nose in the air and a distinct look of distaste on her face. It’s another reminder that she’s never been out in the real post-crisis world and doesn’t know this is as good as it’s going to get.

It’s going to be a long trip.

I corner my sister in a small bedroom. She’s staring at herself in the dusty mirror, looking like a lost child. I sit on the edge of the bed and say, “We’re going to have to talk at some point.”

“I think I’m in shock,” she says, peering into the mirror. “Do I look like I’m in shock?”

“You look like someone who’s never stepped foot outside of her fortress during the apocalypse, Jane. Welcome to the world you created. It sucks and you haven’t even seen the worst of it.”

“Like the infected?” she asks, catching my eye. I recognize curiosity more than fear.

“Yeah, sure. They’re not awesome.” I sigh and run my hand over the cotton patches on the quilt. I’m cold and tired enough that I’d like to curl up underneath it and take a nap. “There are other things, worse things, believe it or not. Like the Hybrids, who are so strong that they make a rabid Eater look like a piece of cake. Then there’s the humans—you remember them, right? They’re angry and scared and many lost all ethical sense when society fell. They’re terrifying.”

“Stop being so dramatic. I’m aware of the current situation out here. I track everything. I have data.”

Did I mention this was going to be a long trip?

“Do you even know where we’re going?” I ask. “Do you have a plan at all?”

She turns and gives me an incredulous look. “Of course I have a plan.”

“Great!” I exclaim with false enthusiasm. “Care to share it with the rest of the class?”

“We’re headed north, to a town called Catlettsburg. It’s in eastern Kentucky, on the Ohio River.”

“And what exactly is up there?” As far as I know we have zero connections with that part of the country. No family. No memories. Although it’s not like I’ve really been privy to my sister’s private life over the last couple of years. If so, maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

“Well if you must know, during my time at PharmaCorp I had a partner—the original lead scientist. We worked very closely together when I first arrived. He taught me everything I know about the inner workings of a lab outside of a university setting. When I was asked to take more of a leadership role over the Department of Defense contracts—”

“You mean biological warfare,” I interject.

“Yes. The bio-warfare was the primary contract and Avi was not enthusiastic about the program.”

“Sounds like Avi is pretty smart and maybe you should have listened to him.” She gives me a hard look, not amused by my comments. “Okay, so we’re headed to his house.”

“Not just his house. His town.”  She sits next to me on the bed. The mattress squeaks from our combined weight. “Avi is the one that prepped the building for an eventual crisis. He created the energy and plumbing systems, managed the food and supplies. He designed the armory and R&D departments. He’s a scientist of survival. He knew one day the end would come. He just didn’t predict we—or rather, I—would be the one to start it.”

There’s little regret in her voice—I’m not sure she’s capable of it any longer, or if she ever was. But there is a hint of longing on her face and it’s clear this man, Avi, is important.

“So we’re going to his town.”

“Yes. He picked the location specifically based on its survivability.”

“Does he know we’re coming?” I have no idea if she has the means to communicate with the outside world. Honestly, I don’t know much about my sister anymore.

“We have an open invitation.” She glances at me.

“What?”

“He does have one stipulation.”

“Okay. What is that?”

“I can bring in the vaccine—he has inoculated the town already. I sent him the first successful batch months ago. Even before we vaccinated ourselves at the Fort. But he will not allow any other genetic alterations or study to be done.”

“Well, good. I certainly don’t have a problem with that.” I frown. “Do you? You don’t have some kind of evil plan lined up do you?”

I’m only half-joking.

Jane doesn’t think it’s funny. “No, Alexandra, I don’t. But for the sake of transparency, you should know that Avi isn’t aware of the Hybrids or the war building in the south. He has no idea what I’ve done or what we may be forced to do to stop it.”

That’s when she breaks. She cracks right in front of me. Her strong exterior shattering into a sobbing mass of emotion. The sister I knew and grew up with appears before me and I blink, as though she’s not real.

“Jane?” She doesn’t reply and I do the only thing I know how. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a hug.

“It will be okay,” I tell her, stroking her hair. It’s a lie and I don’t know why I say it. She deserves worse.

“He’ll hate me.”

“Maybe.”

She looks at me accusingly, red eyed and with a runny nose. “That’s not helping.”

I sigh and take both of her hands. “You screwed up, dear sister. And there’s no more hiding behind Fortress walls pretending otherwise. The journey to your little town is going to be hard. Brutally hard. We may not even survive and if we do, I suspect seeing Avi is going to be even more difficult.” Another round of sobs wracks through her. I sigh. “But I’ve got your back and I’ll fight for you every step of the way.”

She nods, and I step into the bathroom, where I find the most fantastic thing ever. A box of tissue. I hand it over and she takes an extravagant number, four at once, and I roll my eyes at her cluelessness.

“Wha?” she asks, nose stuffed and running.

“I have so much to teach you.” I take the box back before she can use them all. “But I guess that’s what sisters are for.”

*

After my talk with Jane I feel the need for a bath, so I head down to the clear, green lake. Walker agrees to stand guard and I take tiny baby steps into the freezing cold water slowly, until every part of my body is submerged. I’m still dressed in my prison uniform, not for modesty but because large swaths of the fabric are stuck to my skin, dried there with blood and fluids from my escape. My hands are stained a dark red and I can still feel the hot blood as it oozed out of Cole’s wound.

Even lost to the Hybrid virus, he saved me. I don’t know where to put that information.

The cloth loosens once it gets wet and I strip down and scrub myself clean with a bar of fresh-smelling soap from the bathroom. They have a whole basket of cleaning products the owners must have picked up at hotels around the country. I use three tiny bottles that smell like lavender on my hair alone.

I feel as greedy as my sister with the tissues.

Later, night falls, and we gather around the long wooden table. Jackson’s rabbit, plus two cans of corn and one of peaches in thick, sugary juice make our meal. The owner must have had a thing for candles because there are dozens, and instead of risking a fire we draw the curtains and eat by flickering candlelight.

“What’s the plan?” I ask, licking syrup off my fingers. “Because we can’t stay here long.”

All afternoon I tried to picture the United States map and figure out the best way from here to eastern Kentucky. All I know is this lake isn’t in the right spot to connect directly to the river, which means we’ll be moving forward on foot. Green says as much as he gnaws on the leg bone of the rabbit.

“So we’re walking?” I ask, looking at the Fighters.

“I brought some additive and a spare battery that may help us get a car moving,” Jackson says.

“Has the gas gone bad?” Jane asks, thinking about this for the first time.

“At the Fort, the fleet crew maintained the vehicles, keeping batteries and gasoline clean. Out here everything’s been sitting for a while. We should be able to get something working. We definitely don’t want to travel over the Appalachians on foot.”

“Does that work for you?” I ask Walker, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet.

“Yes. First thing we’ll search for a vehicle but, I agree, we need to leave as soon as possible after that. We need more distance between us and the Hybrids.” She stands and takes her plate to the sink out of habit. There’s no water other than from the lake. She quickly adds, “I’ll take first watch,” before heading out the front door.

I jerk my chin at Green. “You have a map?”

“In my bag.”

My sister watches our exchange. She’s been silent since we spoke earlier in the day. I don’t have the energy to deal with her right now. “Can I look it over? Or we can look it over together? I like to have my route well planned.”

“Good idea.” He hops up and goes for his bag; it’s as worn and battered as my own.

I feel a sense of gratitude that Jane thought to bring my pack. There’s not much inside except the family things I’d carried this whole time and a couple of spare pairs of clothing. I’d used most of the space for the food I brought for Devin and his family. But the family pictures and our mother’s wedding ring is in that bag and it’s all I have left.

Green and I spread his map on the coffee table, using a couple of candles for light. We figure out the fastest route, then the safest, then a third in case the first two are blown to hell.

“How much time have you spent in the Death Fields?” I ask him. I know from seeing Erwin’s map at our last meeting that most of the north is not cleared of the Eaters. That’s probably the best thing Jane, and even her Hybrids, did for the south. They cleared out so many of the infected and rounded up the survivors. It made a difference. Unfortunately their motives weren’t so great for the rest of society.

“I spent six months out there in the beginning—before The Director’s Fighters came through my little town.” His face takes on a familiar pained expression. “It was a hard six months. I thought the people would rally together.”

“They didn’t?”

He shakes his head. “I watched my brother get killed over bag of sugar.” He touches his chest. “Shot in the heart by the woman that taught my Sunday school class.”

“That’s awful.”

“People just didn’t know what to do. It was like their biggest fears coming true.” He leans back on the couch. “I think it hurt the religious folks the most. They kept waiting for God to come down and save them. When he didn’t, they panicked.”

I never had the luxury of blaming God. I knew the name and face of the person behind this. I knew the virus was the result of science and not a greater force. Humans did this for very human reasons—the one Green just described: fear. I glance across the room where my sister still sits at the kitchen table. Her plate of food is uneaten. We make eye contact and she looks small and uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” I say to Green.

“Yeah, he was an asshole but he was family, you know?”

I nod and sense Jane get up from the table and disappear into the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click. Looking back at the map I mutter, “Trust me, I understand.”

Chapter 2

Finding a suitable car in the apocalypse is harder than you would imagine. Especially near the lakefront. People stuck close to home—near their TVs and internet access—waiting for the end of the world to come. They didn’t, apparently, drive to their lakefront cabins to wait it out. They should have.

We need something big enough for the five of us and our supplies, and we all agree sitting in the back of a pick-up truck during the winter isn’t something any of us want to do. The first two appropriate cars he finds have dead batteries and not enough gas to make it worthwhile. Jackson keeps trying, though, and we comb the garages one by one until he finds one that seems like a possibility.

Green and I cover Jackson and Walker as they work on the vehicle. It’s a four door truck with a camper on the back, tucked behind a storage facility. Two full cans of gas sit on a shelf near the back and Jackson pours the additive inside.

Jane stands among us like an odd thumb. Her boots are too shiny and her weapons useless and mishandled. She sits on the step of the cabin and lets the rest of us do the work. I’m not sure how long the others will tolerate this behavior but I know I’m already annoyed.

When Green and I are a safe distance away I ask, “So really, what do you think about my sister?”

His eyebrow lifts. “The Director.”

“You do know she’s not directing anyone or anything anymore, right? There was a coup.”

“What should I call her then? Ms. Ramsey?”

“You may want to start.” From what Jane told me, Avi isn’t going to be into her title anyway. Plus, it’s a giveaway if we encounter any enemies. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He glances over his shoulder to make sure we’re alone. “Truth? She’s scary.”

I laugh, covering my mouth to muffle the sound. “Scary? She can’t use a weapon. She’s never even faced an Eater before. There’s nothing she can do to you.”

“I guess she’s just intimidating. Like that smart chick from science class in high school that is three steps ahead of the rest of the class and the teacher.” He gives me a look. “You were probably that girl once upon a time, too, so you don’t get it.”

I ignore the semi-compliment. “She’s a genius, like, freaking smart as hell —who is incredibly fallible. She needs people to stand up to her more than you realize. Don’t call her the Director anymore. She needs to learn how to be part of a team—not the fake leader of this one.”

A scream pierces the late morning quiet and Green and I are on the move, running through the leaves toward the house. Walker and Jackson meet us at the front steps, guns raised.

Jane is gone.

“Where’d she go?” Walker asks, eyes everywhere but particularly on me.

“She was just here.”

“Well, she’s not now.”

Another cry comes from near the lake and we run down to the shore. Jane stands on a wobbly dock with two Eaters moving toward her on the walkway. A boathouse door is open halfway down the lawn and more Eaters spill out of the narrow opening. They stumble and push their way past one another, focused on one thing: attacking us.

Angel Lawson Books

The Death Fields:

The Girl Who Shot First

The Girl Who Punched Back

The Girl Who Kicked Ass

The Girl Who Kissed the Sun

Creature of Habit Series:

Creature of Habit (Book 1)

Creature of Habit (Book2)

Creature of Habit (Book 3)

The Wraith Series:

Wraith

Shadow Bound

Grave Possession

Urban Fantasy

The Lost Queen

Vigilant

Contemporary Romance:

FanGirl-A Girl Who Shot First Companion Novel

For the Win

Table of Contents

- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2