Author: Angel Lawson
Date: 2017-07-20 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Romance; Paranormal; Young Adult; Horror
Description: In an epic showdown Alexandra defeated the leader of the Hybrid Army. In the process she lost her strongest ally and discovered a larger obstacle to peace in the future. Under the rule of a new leader Alex and Wyatt learn more about the start of The Crisis, the real reason for the ETR-Virus and the plans those in charge have for the future. The hunters become the hunted and in the end, not everyone will survive. Read the final installment of The Death Fields Series!

The Girl Who Saved the World

By Angel Lawson

Thank you for following me on the journey of The Girl Who Did All The Things. Make sure you’re following my newsletter @angellawson mailing list

Laughter echoes off the hallways and I hear the clickety-clack of fingers over a keypad. My phone sits snugly in my hand like an old friend. There’s no service, but I can look at my pictures through the screen that got cracked at some point along the way. I mean, I didn’t even remember having a cell phone until someone handed me a cord and said, “Want to use this?”

Cell phones.

Computers.

Electricity.

Laughter.

I look around the room and watch everyone in motion, working as though nothing had happened—or was happening—outside this place. There are still Eaters out there. I know that. There are Hybrids on the run, slipping across the country like scurrying ants. There are Mutts in hiding—trying to figure out their next move. Both of their leaders are gone and no one told them what to do once the battle was over, or what would happen to them with a new person in charge.

“Name?” the man at the desk next to my chair asks. I glance at Wyatt one desk over and his eyes pierce mine. He gives the slightest of nods.

“Alexandra Ramsey.”

“Age?”

“Twenty.”

“Place of origin?”

I hesitate thinking back over the last year-and-a-half. Catlettsburg, Asbury, then Catlettsburg before that. I had a stretch of traveling from Georgia, but also spent time in Tennessee. I think past the Vaccine Center and PharmaCorp and Fort Shaw, all the way back to the beginning, when I met Cole and Wyatt. When I was still with my mother. I blink at the man whose hands wait over the keyboard for my answer.

“Raleigh, North Carolina.”

He types this information into a computer. A computer that hums and has white light. I watch as he scribbles something on a small, blue card with a plastic pen.

“Does that thing have the internet?” I ask, so confused.

“No. We just use it to save information. Fill out forms. What we don’t have is unlimited paper.”

I nod like any of this makes sense. Like it’s relevant to the world outside. “Right.”

“Take this to receive your rations; this includes clothing and food. Follow the arrow on the floor.”

I’m aware of the tremble in my hand when I take the card. Once I step away, Jude’s number is called and he replaces me. The same questions start again.

“Name?”

“Jude Hansen.”

I look up, a little lost, but perk up when I spot Wyatt waiting for me by the exit. There’s a blue-hued arrow painted under his feet.

“You okay?” he asks. I spot a similar card in his hand. “You look a little pale.”

“Yeah, I think it may be the effects wearing off.” I whisper. The EVI-3, which transformed me into a temporary Mutt for the battle between the Hybrids and Mutts, has finally worked its way through my system and I’m feeling it: Extreme fatigue and a slight headache over my temple. “I think I just need some water and a nap.”

Wyatt studies me. I know he’s worried about side effects from the drug. He didn’t want me to take it, but when do I listen? In the end, we both know it was the right decision. There’s little doubt I’d be dead if I hadn’t had a temporary booster shot of the EVI-3, giving me a dose of super-strength to survive that last battle.

Overall, I feel fine. The hyper focus is gone, the extreme strength and heightened senses—all faded. When I challenge his look he sighs and starts down the hallway. The sooner we check in, the faster I can find a place to sleep off the hangover.

At the end of the hall there is a window that overlooks the city below. We’re in Cincinnati, a place that is much bigger and better-functioning than I ever thought would exist again. The building is a government assistance facility, no longer needed for driver’s licenses or social security. It’s perfect for processing in new citizens like us. From what Walker told us coming in the night before, the entire city is 100% Eater-free. They have the power grid up, running water, and a functioning infrastructure. It’s basically the government-approved version of Avi’s Catlettsburg, although much larger and well-equipped. From what she told us, the government had multiple cities prepped for a cataclysmic disaster. Cincinnati is one of them. Well, I say Cincinnati. They no longer call it that. It’s been officially renamed New Hope. I roll my eyes at the name. These people are creating a new world and that was the best they could come up with?

According to Walker, other safe cities, dotted around the country, are in various states of flux. Some are still fighting the Eaters to hold their ground or do not have adequate survivors to maintain the infrastructure as much as they hoped. Although, Walker boasts, few are doing as well as this one.

Wyatt listened to all this with intense interest, the wheels in his head spinning. He has the same look now when he looks out the window at the clean, functional city. “Surreal, isn’t it?”

I touch the glass. “It doesn’t seem real.”

“We probably shouldn’t get used to it. If we’re really being assigned as bounty hunters, I don’t think we’ll get to stay long.”

I watch him watch the city. “Is it weird that I’m okay with that? That I want to go back out?”

“It isn’t weird to me. But I’m not sure I’m the best example of post-crisis mentality.”

I face him. Other than a sanitizing wash-off and temporary clothing in quarantine, we’re fresh off the battlefield. Less than twenty-four hours before, I’d killed Chloe with a shot to the head. We’d watched Erwin and Green be executed by Colonel Hamilton, the unknown man in charge of this city. I grip Wyatt’s hips and push up on my toes, giving him a peck on the lips.

“You may not be the best example but you’re the best for me,” I tell him.

“You lay it on thick, you know that, right?” He rolls his eyes at my attempt at sweetness. Wyatt is well aware of my inability to be the mushy girlfriend, and I’m well aware that he likes me that way.

Jude and Mary Ellen approach from the processing room. Jane? I haven’t seen her since we arrived but I have little doubt she’s already been put to work.

They clutch cards in their fingers. I take a deep breath and say, “Let’s get this over with,” before taking what I’m quite sure is just another step in the game.

Chapter Two

The bizarre feeling of normalcy only grows when we’re escorted to a nearby auditorium for orientation. The group we’re in isn’t big—maybe twenty people, of varying ages, all looking as tired and weary as I feel. I can’t imagine what they’ve been through, (the post-crisis world is difficult for anyone), but I doubt they just completed a battle with super-soldiers the day before.

“It’s weird being in a place like this, with electricity and everything,” Mary Ellen says. Her feet bounce on the ground, shaking her knees. I wonder if it’s nerves or side effects.

“Sometimes it feels like whiplash,” Jude says. “There’s no constant. One minute we’re living like cavemen, the next it’s like nothing has changed.”

I agree that it’s definitely hard to process, which may be why I’m itching to get out of here. Unfortunately, I need to learn more about this place and Hamilton, because if I’ve gleaned anything over the last year it is that power corrupts—now more than ever.

A slight woman with pale brown hair and a wide nose walks to the podium. Her lips are painted bright red and I can’t help but notice her dress. It’s not the utilitarian kind that Mary Ellen wore as a byproduct of growing up with the Mennonites. No, it’s made of a silky, black material with dotted flowers. It’s the kind of outfit that you can’t fight in. A relic from a time when fashion was an acceptable consideration. It, more than anything else I’ve seen today, emits a level of luxury I am fully unaccustomed to.

A wide screen rolls from the ceiling behind her as she steps to the microphone.

“Good afternoon. My name is Andrea Miller and I’m the hospitality liaison for the city of New Hope. Colonel Hamilton extends his warmest welcome and hopes you find a path to the future in our designated Safe City.”

A picture appears on the screen with the city’s logo. It includes an American flag and a seal that says “Safe City.” Andrea looks appraisingly at the image behind her and then turns back to face the crowd.

“I’m aware that many of you have struggled long and hard to get to this day. You have lost family and friends. You’ve lost your homes and jobs and all sense of security. New Hope cannot replace the things close to your heart, but we can offer you a home and future in absolute safety. Where running water and electricity are the norm and not something to fight and scavenge for. Believe it or not, the government wasn’t totally unprepared for the E-TR virus. The likelihood of biological warfare was well known and documented by agencies like Homeland Security and the CDC. With the advent of drone warfare, anything was possible, and what was once a vague concept became a fast-moving reality. Six cities were finalized before the E-TR virus wiped out the southern states. Ten more were planned that never came to fruition. Of these six, three, including New Hope, are fully functional. The other three are struggling and we’re in the process of assisting them as they get on their feet.”

The screen behind her flips through a series of images that look pre-crisis, apartments and single-family homes, school children walking out of a classroom. The nostalgia is thick. I spot a small movement near the door. Hamilton is observing the presentation. I nudge Wyatt and gesture to the imposing man.

Andrea narrates the slides but I keep an eye on the man that brought us here. He looks to be in his mid-forties, with short, black hair. There’s gray at the temples, but he looks healthy. Honestly? Compared to those of us that came in from the battlefield, Hamilton looks robust. His cheeks carry the roundness that comes from steady meals. His brown skin is clear and he lacks the dark circles that I can’t seem to get rid of. It’s weird, because I know this man is dangerous. I watched him kill Erwin in cold blood, but he has an appealing, handsome face. There’s one thing that gives me pause. His dark eyes have a hint of something—mania? Excitement? I don’t know how to place it but it makes me uncomfortable.

The slide show stops and Andrea looms on the stage, perfectly pleasant expression still intact.

“Now that you’re in New Hope, we hope you take time to rest and recover. We’ll help you find a job and housing. You won’t have to sleep with weapons anymore or worry about your neighbors. This is truly a safe place to call home.”

“I have a question,” a voice asks from a couple of rows over. I can’t see his face but his hair is gray.

“Please,” Andrea says. “Go ahead.”

“What kind of perimeter do you maintain? I saw the fence line but does it go all the way around the city? Have you had any breaches?”

Amanda nods, her face showing the right amount of concern. With the remote in her hand she flips forward a few pictures to a diagram of a tall fence. “The city of Cincinnati had the barricades in storage. As soon as Florida was cut off from the rest of the country, the walls went up. Now, things weren’t perfect at first. Infected citizens were already here before the walls were secured. We lost people but our police and local National Guard were ready for them. They’d been trained for something like this.”

“How do you train for cannibals?” another man blurts out. “And the panic and fear of not trusting your neighbors? Are you saying the government had a   tip-off that this was coming?”

Andrea’s calm expression falters, her lip twitching just a bit. “No, of course not—”

“I lost my baby girl out there. Not from the cannibals, but from the bastards that hoarded and stole all the food in my town.” He nods to the boy next to him, he looks young, maybe ten or eleven. “My son had to see things he never should. Every day I wondered if we’d be better off dead. If I found out the government had a hand in this—”

“Sir, I know you’re upset and we have many resources for you and your son—”

“Thank you, Andrea,” a controlled voice says from off stage. Hamilton moves from his spot at the door and walks calmly across the front of the platform into the seating area. Andrea is doing her best to stay calm but the man is right; finding out now that a safe place like this exists is a little too late for most of us.

It also hammers home that people do not know about my sister and the real cause of the E-TR virus. I worry in a whole new way about her safety.

Hamilton does something surprising. He walks among the attendees and stops before the man. He’s wearing more casual clothing today, a V-neck sweater and olive green pants. Nothing about him reveals the deadly executioner we met last night.

“What’s your name?” he asks the man.

“Richard.” He nods at his son. “This is Liam.”

Hamilton offers his hand to the son first and they shake, then to the man. Wyatt hasn’t moved an inch, watching the scene unfold.

“The fact you are coming to New Hope this long after the crisis began is proof of how strong you are. Did you know that when we first started the orientations for new citizens, these rooms were packed with survivors?” He looks around the large room, compelling us to look ourselves. “Many were from the original city and suburbs, but for months we had a large influx of people rolling in, happy to be out of the Death Fields.”

“We didn’t know you existed,” Richard says.

“I know, and it was not widely advertised outside this area. It took months to get the city up and running. We welcomed in all the healthy people that came to the gates but we weren’t in a position to travel outside ourselves until very recently. Most of the other Safe Cities still aren’t.”

“That’s not fair,” Liam says. “Leaving people out there—with the monsters and bad people.”

“No, son, it isn’t.” Hamilton sounds sympathetic, his voice warm and welcoming. I can’t shake the feeling of watching something scripted, like a reality TV show or something. “But we’re doing the best we can and as a unified community, determined to eradicate the infected and dangerous, we’ll return as a country, stronger than before.”

He pats Liam on the head, who actually does look appeased, and walks up to the podium. He adjusts the microphone to his height and says, “Now that we’ve stabilized and have eliminated much of the threat from down south, we will continue the cleanup of the countryside until we are free to come and go from the safe barriers of the city. It will take time and perseverance, but we’ll get there with the help of capable soldiers and fighters.” He glances in our direction. “We have a plan and a mission—both for the greater good. Rest, heal, and figure out the way you want to be part of the future of New Hope.”

Richard jumps to his feet and starts to clap. I’m startled by the act but he’s followed by others in the room, many with a look of relief on their faces. Jude nudges my arm and stands with the others. I move to my feet and as a group we cheer on our new leader with the most recent citizens of New Hope.

I feel pressure on my elbow and Wyatt leans close. “Where have I heard a speech like that before?” he asks.

I keep my eyes fixated on Hamilton, who’s waving back at the small group, many who have left their seats to go greet him personally.

“In a room like this, back at PharmaCorp,” I reply. “From my sister.”

Chapter Three

Three days of rest. That’s what we’re given before our official assignment begins. The four of us are housed in a small apartment a block away from the processing offices. It’s a nice place with big windows. We all ignore the blood stain in the hallway just outside our door.  I don’t know if it’s because we’re desensitized or it’s too hard to acknowledge. I’m pretty sure I fall into the former.

I wake on the third day while it’s still dark outside with Wyatt’s warm arm clutching my waist. The door of our room opens slowly and I instinctively reach for my weapon—okay, not my weapon, that will be given back to me when we leave—but the knife from the kitchen that I keep on the bedside table. A face comes into view and I blink, recognizing the familiar gray eyes and dark hair of my sister. I frown and remove my hand from the weapon.

She waves me over and I glance back, thinking I’m being quiet, but it’s no surprise Wyatt is already alert and aware. He probably heard her minutes before I did. Sighing, I squeeze his hand before walking out and closing the door behind me.

When we’re both in the living room I pull my sister into a tight hug. She wraps her arms around me and it’s just the two of us for a moment. “Are you okay?” I ask. “I figured they tucked you into a lab or something.”

“I’m fine and yeah, that was their plan, until I told them we had to go get Dad and the others in hiding.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yes, they’re all fine. They were in an abandoned evacuation shelter just outside the town lines.”

“So he’s here?” I ask.

“Yes. I’m not sure how safe we really are here, but I couldn’t leave him and the kids without protection. Catlettsburg is a ghost town. We passed it on the way back.”

“I’m glad they’re all safe and yeah, I’m not exactly sure about this place either, but they’re targets for the Hybrids outside the walls.” We move to the small seating area. “So has Hamilton given you a job?”

“He wants a pure vaccine. The people up here are not vaccinated and they have to be incredibly strict about quarantine and possible outbreaks of the E-TR virus. The parasites are still out there looking for a host.”

“You guys can do that, can’t you? I mean, that was Dad’s original goal, right?”

“Yes, with the right tools, which Hamilton has provided, we should be able to produce what he wants.”

My sister is odd. She has strange mannerisms and an ability to make everyone feel lesser at all times. She’s brilliant with a touch of narcissism that must remain in check. She’s come a long way since she first unleashed the E-TR virus on the world, trying hard to redeem herself. Right now though, she’s twisting her hands together and I can tell something’s got her on edge.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need you to understand that Hamilton is dangerous.”

“I watched him execute Erwin and Green. I know that.” But that image has been softened by the display at the orientation meeting. That was just war, right? There’s more though, the familiar words he used at the close of his talk—the ones that matched Jane’s view when she unleashed the virus on the world. That makes me more nervous than anything else.

She shakes her head. “He’s serious about getting rid of all the Hybrids and Mutts. I have faith in the EVI-3. He’ll never know but if something came up, a side effect or reoccurrence, he’ll kill you on the spot. I have no doubt.”

“What about you? You took it too.”

“He needs me and I can make sure he always does. Same with Dad, but you guys? You need to get out of here fast. Follow orders. Get on the road. Track down Hybrids.”

“For how long?” Because that is not where I picture my life going in the long run—although to be fair, God knows how many of us have a long run.

“Until we know the EVI-3 is not a problem. Until you find Paul and Cole and come up with a better plan. Just don’t fight back. Not now.”

I lean back against the sofa. “I wasn’t planning on it. Wyatt and I already agreed to follow orders.” She gives me a wary look. I hold my hands up. “I’m serious.”

“I know you think you’re serious but neither you or Wyatt are great at sticking to a plan or following directions.” Her next sentence comes out in a whisper. “Hamilton is dangerous—his ideas…”

“They’re extreme.”

“It took me a long time to understand why my actions with the E-TR virus were wrong. I was convinced I was helping the world with science and not emotion.” She looks at her hands. “It wasn’t until I created Chloe and she turned on me that I realized my mistake. You, Dad, Avi and the others…you helped me see that. Not everyone has a support system like you guys.”

She’s tip-toeing around something but I sense she’s done talking. I take her hand and squeeze. “I promise we’ll be careful. You do your work—we’ll do ours.”

Her face and shoulders relax and I think she finally believes me. I have a million other questions about why she’s so concerned about this—does she think the EVI-3 is going to be a problem? If so, she’s taken it, too. We knew it was a risk. It was a trial—rushed to fight Chloe and the Hybrids. But as of now I feel fine. Sleep and food helped.

“Walker says we’re leaving in the morning. I’m not sure where we’re going or how all of this is going to work, but I think it will be fine.” I smile. “Just another day in the apocalypse.”

“I’m sorry you’re having to clean up my mess.”

My jaw drops. “Dude, it isn’t a ’mess’, it’s the freaking apocalypse. I’m on like, mutant-patrol or something.”

“I know. I know.”

“Make the vaccine and take care of Dad. That’s your job.” I bump her on the shoulder with my first. “I’ll take care of everything else.”

“You’re an amazing little sister, did you know that?”

“Honestly? I sort of did know that.”

She laughs and I give her another hug. It feels like a goodbye.

Maybe it is.

*

The transport van sprays gravel in our direction as it heads down the road. We’re on the edge of the Death Fields, the thin line between civilization and ruin. The weird thing is, I feel a sense of relief at leaving the city behind. Chaos comes in different forms. At least out here I can identify my enemy. Back in the city it’s too hard to tell what people want from me. Even Jane’s last-minute warnings hang over me like a cloud.

“So what? We’re on foot?” Jude asks. He says it to Walker’s back. Her red curly hair is in a loose ponytail and she’s headed toward a small garage attached to a worn down building. When she doesn’t reply, he shrugs and follows her, Mary Ellen right on his heels.

“Any idea if we’ll meet up with Davis?” I reach out to straighten the straps on Wyatt’s pack. The bags had been waiting for us in the transport vehicle. I searched the contents and found everything inside—except my mother’s ring. I cursed myself for losing it along the way.

Wyatt glances over at Walker and Jude, who are struggling to lift the garage door up. He scratches his forehead with his thumb. “I haven’t heard anything more than you have. I hope so. He’s definitely someone I’d like to have our backs while taking down Hybrids.”

“Same.”

The wind blows, making it clear winter is on the way. I spent most of spring and summer locked up in Chloe’s prison. I don’t take sunlight and fresh air for granted, but the chill runs through me. Wyatt notices and grips my hands with his, giving me a little bit of his warmth. I can’t help but smile and when he smiles back at me, a sudden sense of fear rolls down my spine. I remove my hands from him and walk over to the others.

He trots behind me and says, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I don’t know how to express what I just felt. Things feel fragile right now. “I think we should keep the affection on the down low. I don’t want added complications.”

Wyatt nods. “Sure, okay.”

He walks past me and squeezes between Jude and Walker to help lift the door. His back flexes and the door rolls up, loudly shaking the hinges. A figure steps from the shadows and everyone but Walker pulls their guns.

“Hey, hey,” she says. “It’s Jackson, don’t blow his head off.”

I can’t describe the feeling in my chest when Jackson finally emerges, hands up. Part relief, part joy. These are the people I need in my life right now. People I know and can trust.

Wyatt approaches him first, giving him a quick handshake. They don’t know one another well, but any history is better than nothing in our world. I step forward and don’t even wait. I just throw myself at him and go for the hug. “It’s so good to see you. Things were a little crazy the other day. I was afraid you’d be sent somewhere else.”

“Nope,” he says, squeezing me back. “Hamilton wanted me to go with you guys. And not just me.” He looks over his shoulder and I realize there’s someone else behind him. “This is Zoe.”

Zoe steps out from Jackson’s shadow and I’m surprised to see a teenaged girl. She has caramel-colored hair and warm, brown skin. Her eyes are a stunning green that do not carry the jaded look of my partners. She looks young and remarkably clean, with barely a scuff on her shiny, black boots. My first thought is how I don’t want to have to carry the weight of someone inexperienced. We’ve already got Mary Ellen to contend with, at least I know she’s committed and understands what we’re up against.

Wyatt nods but frowns as he assesses her size and the way she holds gun in her hands. Jude looks disappointed and I see him pull Walker to the side and whisper something to her. She replies and whatever she says isn’t what he wants to hear. Mary Ellen doesn’t look upset to see another girl enter our mix and goes over to speak to her.

I point to the truck hiding in the garage. “Does that work?”

Jackson nods. “Yep.”

“Good, because I do not want to walk. Been there, done that.”

He smiles and it’s nice to see. “So where do we go first?” I ask, tossing my bag into the back of the truck. I’ve already decided I’ll sit outside—again, those months Chloe kept me cooped up have made me dislike the indoors.

Walker opens the driver’s side door. “First stop—Catlettsburg.”

“Really?” I scoot over, giving Wyatt some space. He doesn’t seem to want it and presses his hip against mine. “Why there?”

“We’ve got to sweep the town for Hybrids and Mutts. It’s possible some, particularly the Mutts that came from there, are hiding out.” She looks us over. Jude has also climbed in the bed. He stows his pack between his legs. “The good news is we’re all familiar with the town. Shouldn’t take too long. From there, Hamilton ordered us south.”

Her head disappears into the cab of the truck and she slams the door. It takes a minute for the engine to turn—who knows how long it’s been out here—but eventually it catches and she speeds away from the tiny garage.

“Anyone else feel like we’re about to get the greatest hits tour of the apocalypse?” Jude asks over the sound of the road and wind.

I fight a laugh but it’s pointless. We’re hunters now. Not fighters. Not soldiers. We’re looking for needles in a very big haystack. If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry, and I am definitely not crying.

Chapter Four

Catlettsburg is a ghost town.

It had always been a quiet place but now, looking up at the massive barricades, I feel in in my bones. There’s no one here, human or mutation.

Walker won’t accept a feeling, though, and we break into the secured fence. The few remaining soldiers that hung back during the battle locked up the place and left as though they would be back one day. They didn’t expect Erwin to die.

“What did you say to her?” I ask Jude when we get a second alone. “Back at the garage?”

Their exchange had bothered me the whole ride over, but I didn’t want to shout it out.

“I asked her about Parker. No one will give me a straight answer.”

Jude and Parker grew close over the last year. Like, maybe even relationship close. We haven’t seen her in over half a year. “What did she say?”

“That Parker went AWOL about a month ago. She just left in the middle of the night—no reason given.”

“That sounds strange. I mean, she’s been with us since PharmaCorp.”

Worry lines tug at his eyes. “She’s not a big risk taker or stupid. She wouldn’t go off in the Death Fields alone. I mean, she wouldn’t, would she?”

“Not without a good reason.”

Leaves blow around the street like tumbleweeds, rushing up against shop fronts and fences. “We’ll split up,” Walker says. “Jackson, Jude, and Mary Ellen take the south side. Wyatt, Alex, Zoe, and I will comb the north end of town.”

Wyatt and I exchange a look as we separate from the others. We both know we’re being supervised. What is Walker--or even more likely, Hamilton-- afraid of? We pass the first houses headed into town. We climb the steps to a historic home. The school teachers lived here post-crisis. Wyatt tries the door—it’s unlocked. These people trusted one another.

“Zoe, wait on the porch. Signal if there’s a problem.”

“Signal how?” the girl asks.

I sense Walker holding back. I’ve been on the other side of her sharp impatience. With her jaw tight she replies, “Just shout or something. I’m sure you’ll figure out what to do.”

I can’t hold it in any longer. “Is there a specific reason we’re being punished like this? We’re the ones that killed Chloe.”

“You’re not being punished,” Walker says, stepping into the house. It smells musty even from a few days of being closed up. From a quick glance, everything appears in place. These people knew they were leaving and tidied up. No one has been back.

“Feels like a punishment to me.” I open every closet door in the house. Wyatt checks under beds. A fine layer of dust coats the dresser top in the bedroom.

“Hamilton thinks you know the Hybrids better than anyone. He needs our expertise and that’s why he sent Davis out that day to start tracking them down. To the security forces back at New Hope, they’re almost an urban legend.” She gives me a cool glance. “As are you.”

“They saw them at the battle,” Wyatt says, wiping his dusty hands on his pants.  He’s moving to the door, confident this house is empty.

“By the time we got there they were on the run or dead. Hamilton has big ideas for the future of the country, but he doesn’t have the skills to handle the Hybrids and Mutts without casualties. I told him coming in like that—filled with piss and bravado--wouldn’t end well. He doesn’t understand their unrelenting drive and motivation,” Walker explains.

The problem is that a week ago I would have argued that I didn’t get it either, but I can’t say that now, at least for the Mutts. Hamilton and even Walker do not understand what we’re up against. Before, these super soldiers had a focus. A goal and a leader. Now? They’re alone, unorganized, and being hunted. The lack of structure and a single leader could ignite something we haven’t seen before.

Walker and Hamilton are right. We do know the Hybrids and Mutts better than anyone, but that doesn’t give us an edge. It just makes me aware that we’re headed for serious trouble.

With Zoe on guard, we check the rest of the houses on the street and soon we’re losing daylight. Wyatt notices and says, “I’ll take this building. You guys hit the shops.”

The building in question is the one where our apartment is located. I glance up at the window to our room. It’s where Wyatt and I declared ourselves to one another. He avoids my questioning look.

Walker weighs the risk of splitting up and I say, “Seriously, Wyatt can take care of himself. If we don’t split up we’ll never get out of here.”

Her hesitation is brief. “Be quick. Fire your gun if you get into any trouble.”

“You do know I’ve taken out dozens of these guys on my own, right?”

She glares at him and the truth is written on her face. She’s well aware and that’s not what scares her. Something happened to Walker while she was away from us. She doesn’t doubt our abilities—she just doesn’t trust us. I’m not sure she ever has. The irony is that she probably shouldn’t.

Chapter Five

Wyatt quickly goes in the side door of the apartment building. It’s weird because I only stayed there for about a week, but it’s a place of importance to me. I feel eyes on me and turn to find Zoe staring.

“What?” I ask, shaking the nostalgia.

“You’ve got a weird look on your face.”  Her comment is blunt and has a strange edge—even for the weirdness of our entire circumstances.

“Maybe I’m trying to figure out why, if Hamilton thinks our job is so important, we’re babysitting a kid like you?”

“What are they like?” she asks, ignoring my jab. We’re popping in and out of the shops on Main Street. Seeing them empty and abandoned makes me sad. These people tried so hard to continue life here. To what end? They’re either Mutts wanted by Hamilton or they’ve been absorbed into the city of New Hope.

“What are who like?”

“You know, the freaks we’re looking for.”

I peek down the long shelves at the bookstore. Zoe follows me—weapon down. She’s a terrible guard. “You’ve never seen a Hybrid?”

“Nope. Or one of those nasty Mutts. I’ve heard all about them though.” Her flat affect takes on sudden enthusiasm. And I spot a glint in her green eyes. “That they’re totally insane. Like an Eater but smarter. That they don’t just bite you but they’ll cage you up and cook you for dinner. Piece by piece.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Gross.”

“Is it true they have sharp nails that can slice through skin?”

“They’re not werewolves. They’re mutations—more like super soldiers than X-men. They use weapons and their fists like every other soldier.” That reality earns me a hard stare of disbelief. I have no idea what she’s been told, but I have a little better understanding what Walker meant by them being an urban legend. I do add, “Although like a dog, it’s best if you don’t taunt them.”

She rolls her eyes and watches me check the rest of the store.

Wyatt is back by the time we get outside and there’s no mistaking the impatience from the tic in his jaw. When Walker appears from a shop he asks, “Are we really going to go through the whole town?”

Walker rubs dust off her hands. “I agree, it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. We’re going to have to come up with a better method.”

Jackson, Jude, and Mary Ellen walk toward us from the south side of town. Jude shrugs and it’s clear they’ve been unsuccessful.

Jackson confirms this, adding, “There’s nothing. I don’t think anyone has been back.”

The whole scene is getting on my nerves. What are we even doing here? After the fights and the battles and everything with Erwin and Chloe over the years, I feel like we’re walking in circles. And for what? To prove we’re with Hamilton and his cause?

A hand touches mine and I look up, well aware of the scowl on my face. “Calm down.”

“I’m not un-calm,” I snap at Wyatt.

To my surprise Jude says, “This whole thing is making me crazy.” I glance down at his hands and notice they’re trembling. I pull my hand from Wyatt’s grip and it only takes a second for the tremor to start up in my own.

“What the hell is that?” Wyatt whispers.

“Jane said side effects were possible. She also said to keep the focus off it we need to do what Hamilton wants.”

Wyatt studies us closely, his lips in a firm line. His eyes flash over to Walker and Jackson and the tension in his neck ratchets up. When he finally speaks he says, “Believe it or not I think Walker is out of her league here. She’ll never find the Hybrids like this. They’re too fast and they’re not going to leave themselves vulnerable.”

I nod in agreement. “Right. So what do we do?”

Without notice, Wyatt walks over to the others. I grip my hatchet to keep my hands steady. “I can find the Hybrids,” he says, interrupting their conversation. “But it won’t happen like this. I tracked them for months down in Georgia with Jude’s help.”

Jude laughs. “Help is an exaggeration, but he showed me how to scout. Back then they had Chloe’s orders pushing them along. Now? They’re alone. They’ll be scattered all over. They won’t come to a place like this—the Mutts either. They don’t have a sense of nostalgia. Their number one motive, all the time, is survival.”

There’s no reason for Walker or Jackson to argue. They know it’s true, they know Wyatt and what he’s capable of doing. She pushes a stray piece of red hair out of her eyes and asks, “Fine, what do you suggest?”

“I imagine right now they’ve all got a heightened adrenaline and are on the run. I don’t think most will stick together—particularly the Hybrids. If they don’t have a leader then they’ll maybe keep in small groups for safety from the Eaters. They’ll scavenge for food, shelter. They’ll kill any survivors they meet along the way—that is programmed in their brain. Humans must be obliterated.”

Zoe’s eyes are wide—she’s absorbing every word. Wyatt has that effect on people—girls in particular. He’s smart, handsome, and totally kick-ass. I have no doubt he’ll have a new fangirl before he finishes speaking.

“Jude and Mary Ellen will scout in one direction. Alex and I in the other,” he says, but Walker is already shaking her head. He doesn’t care. “You guys carry the supplies and act as liaison between us and the Safe Cities. We have to be quiet and stealth. They hear everything. Small pairings—no vehicles. We’ll meet back up every few days and plan our next move.”

Walker thinks it over and we pretend like it’s her call. Wyatt’s just proven one thing. We’ve got the upper hand, but to keep the peace with Hamilton we have to play the game. “Fine,” she says. “But one change. Zoe goes with you and Alex.”

The girl looks like she won the apocalypse lottery and she smiles wide for the first time all day. I bite my lip, concerned about protecting her and ourselves but keep quiet as Wyatt makes the agreement and the next step in our plan.

Seriously though, this apocalypse just keeps getting better and better.

Chapter Six

Before we split up the next morning I ask Walker for a minute alone. We huddle in the chilly morning air next to the front barricade. “What’s the deal with Zoe?”

Walker’s face reveals nothing—just a blank expression. “What do you mean?”

I cross my arms.  It’s too early and there’s not enough coffee left in this town to deal with passive-aggressiveness. I start flipping fingers into the air with each of my upcoming points. “Who is she? Why is she here? Where did she come from? Can she shoot and kill if she needs to?” I take a breath to keep going but Walker snatches my hand out of the air, nearly crushing my fingers. I flex back and we stare at one another.

“Don’t be obnoxious,” she spats.

“Don’t be obtuse. You know the more information we have, the more likely we all come out of this alive.” I narrow my eyes. “Or is that not the goal?”

Her jaw sets. “Our goal is to rid the Death Fields of Hybrids and Mutts. We’re here to create a future for our country. Nothing more.” I’m thinking of how I want to punch her in stomach, just finally knock her off her high horse, and she must see the intent in my eyes. In a low voice she replies, “Zoe is Hamilton’s daughter.”

“You’re f-ing with me.” I take a sideways glance at the girl in question. Her skin and hair are lighter but her lean frame and confidence reek of her dad.

“No. She was in New Hope when we arrived. She’s never been out of the city until now.”

“She’s been in there this whole time? Since the virus spread?”

“Yes.”

“Then why the hell did he send her out here on a mission like this? It’s suicide!” Walker rewards me with a smirk that she barely contains from full-out laughter. “What?”

“I’m thinking back to how you demanded Jane send you to the Vaccine Center and pitched a fit to your father to make it happen.”

“I did not pitch a fit.”

“Sure you didn’t.” The smirk is still there.

“Fine, maybe I persuaded my family into letting me go, but back then we were just fighting Eaters, something I had experience with. We weren’t tracking down genetically modified super soldiers.”

Walker sighs. “For the record, I tried to talk him out of it, but I only have so much sway. He thinks it will be good for her to get some boots on the ground.”

“The fact he didn’t listen to you says a lot.”

“Hamilton has a way of being persuasive. His arguments were solid.”

“Did he threaten to execute you too? Like Erwin? Like Green?”

Walker never had an allegiance to Erwin but Green was a partner. We all went through a lot together during that first year. She can’t pretend his death doesn’t hurt. Even so she says, “Green wasn’t the same person I knew. He’d made a deadly choice.” Meaning his decision to turn Mutt. “You’ll have to keep her safe. I’m not going to lie and say that sending her with you isn’t an insurance policy. You and Wyatt have had plans before to sneak off and leave this shit-show. That can’t happen. Not yet—not now.”

“Why does everyone think we’re about to bolt?”

“Who else thinks this?”

“Jane mentioned it.” The irony is I don’t even know what I want to do. Run? Stay? Curl up in a fetal position and sleep for three years? “We’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Keep it PG around her, okay? You and Wyatt still vibrate off one another like competing earthquakes.”

I make a face because, no. “Don’t worry about us. Worry about getting yourself to the meeting point in one piece. It’s not going to be easy. The Hybrids may not be here, but they’re out there somewhere and they’re primed to kill.”

“Have you always been this dramatic?” she asks, without a trace of humor. But I forget she wasn’t with us the last six months, during the imprisonment and torture. Walker doesn’t truly know us anymore or who our real enemies are.

“Good luck,” I say to her because I don’t feel like getting into it. “You’ve got your map?”

“Yeah, marked with the meeting spot.”

I walk toward Wyatt and Zoe, both itching to get started. Again, it feels like a goodbye, but this time I may be ready for it.

“What was that all about?” Wyatt asks. He’s squatting on the ground, tying his boot lace into a double knot. He reaches for mine when he’s finished and does the same.

“Just getting a little more information.”

“Anything useful?”

Zoe watches our exchange but her feet tap with restlessness. “Nothing much. Come on, let’s get out of here. Night will come soon enough.”

*

I jerk awake, the sound of the forest pulling me from sleep. I was thick in a dream—my black pistol clenched in my hand. The crack and deafening ring of a gunshot splintering Chloe’s skull. Her face morphs at the last minute to Cole and my heart hammers in fear until I feel smell the dirt and decaying leaves of the woods. I blink away the darkness and my eyes adjust enough to see Wyatt pressed against the nearest tree. We camped out after getting lost the day before and finding ourselves too far away from shelter before night fell. Zoe sleeps next to me, curled up in a sleeping bag, and I look to Wyatt to see if I should wake her. His eyes, reflecting the moonlight from above, connect with mine and he shakes his head at the same time his shoulders relax.

I stand and step over the girl, nearly losing my footing. Wyatt reaches out and grips my arms, lifting me over Zoe, right into his chest. In a flash he’s got me pressed against the tree and my heart rate—which was already sky high from the dream—jumps a notch. He lowers his mouth to my ear and I brace myself—not realizing how much I missed his touch over the last week.

“I found something in the apartment,” he says, which is not what I expected. I push my hand under the bottom of his jacket, seeking warmth and closeness. I wait for him to continue. “It was a message. From Paul.”

“What did he say? Is he okay?”

“He’s with Cole. They’re looking into Hamilton and what this guy is all about. He said he’d find us when they know more.”

“It’s a big country, Wyatt. How are they going to find us out here?”

He moves his head so he’s looking at me and his nose brushes mine. His next words are against my mouth. “Do you think Cole will let you walk away like that? His radar on you may be stronger than mine.”

His words sting—as much from truth as anything else. I grip his side and speak louder than I should. “You know there’s nothing there, right? This isn’t some teenage love triangle.”

“I know how you feel about me. I think I even understand your relationship with Cole. Well, as much as I can. But whatever Chloe triggered in his head made him fixated on you. We can only use that damage for our own gain.”

I know he’s right, even though I feel an overwhelming sadness for Cole. The dream didn’t help. I shake off the mood and feel the scruff on Wyatt’s face. Two days in the Death Fields and the beard is growing back. I brush my fingers against his chin and pull his mouth to mine.

His kiss is hard and it takes me back to that night in our apartment, before the EVI-3. Before I killed Chloe. I like the way his hands push my hips against the tree but I pause, lifting my mouth from his. A tickle whispers in my ear—not him—but something deep in the forest.

“What?” he whispers.

“There’s something out there.”

“No. I checked.”

The hairs on my arms and neck rise in warning. This knowledge rides the high of adrenaline and the tug of accelerated instinct. I pull the gun from my boot and even though he doesn’t hear it—doesn’t sense it—Wyatt trusts me enough to follow. I take a step toward Zoe and nudge her with my boot. “Get up,” I whisper. “They’re coming.”

Chapter Seven

The girl isn’t quiet and she takes too long to get on her feet. Wyatt has her pack in his hand as she struggles with the laces on her shoes.

“What the hell?” he barks in a harsh whisper. “You never. Ever. Take off your shoes.”

This girl is going to get us killed.

It’s so bad, I think, grabbing her water bottle and pushing her after Wyatt, (who has already slipped further into the forest), that I wonder for the second time if that’s the plan.

Hamilton wants us dead.

True or not, they don’t know that the EVI-3 has lingering effects--which may include paranoia. I hear whoever is tracking us. I hear their every step, every leaf crunching beneath their boots, their breath and the smell of their sweat.

“They’re about a mile back but once they catch on to us it won’t take them long.”

Wyatt stops and we’re in a small cleared area. I can see his face better here. He’s thinking, plotting, and finally says, “We’ll wait here then. No use running if we’re going to get caught.”

“Wait for them?” Zoe asks. She’s breathing heavily. I hand her the water bottle.

Wyatt points to the nearest tree. It has a lower branch with a deep nook. “You’ll stay up there.”

She looks up at the tree. “And what are you doing? Getting killed while I watch?”

“Doing our job,” I whisper. “We’re bounty hunters. We don’t run. We hunt. You’re about to see what that means.”

The whites of Zoe’s eyes shine against the moonlight but Wyatt has already started to move. He stashes our bags in shrubbery and tucks another knife into his boot. He hands me a small gun that I push into the back of my pants. Despite her arguments, we hoist Zoe into the tree.

“Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”

“What if they kill you? Do I at least get to arm myself?”

Wyatt blinks up at the girl. “You aren’t armed?”

“I left my gun in my backpack.”

“Jesus…” Wyatt curses and looks at me for help.

“Give her that extra knife. I’m not getting shot.” I pause. I haven’t had a chance to tell him yet who Zoe is and her relationship to Hamilton. “Well, at least not by her.”

He gives her the hunting knife and that seems to appease her. “Don’t drop it,” he warns. “Also, if you have to use it, go for the throat.”

The girl’s nose wrinkles in disgust but she seems content with the knife in her hand. I sigh and walk away from the tree. When we’re out of sight I stop and close my eyes. “They’re only about a half mile out. They should have found our campground. I think there are four of them. At least one female.”

“You can tell all of that?”

I nod, afraid of seeing his expression. Even though he didn’t want me to take the EVI-3, he hasn’t judged me since. “It’s like a feeling?” I try to explain. “Vibrations and smell.” I could break down how there are differences in the way the soldiers’ feet hit the ground or their scents, but I can tell he’s trying to be supportive and I don’t want to push my luck. “It’s weak though—nothing like what we experienced the night of the battle. And it’s not all the time. I don’t feel the heightened connection all the time, just occasionally, like maybe it’s connected to fear or—”

“Adrenaline,” he adds.

“Yes, I think so.”

There’s no time to analyze my body chemistry right now because the Hybrids are getting closer. Wyatt squeezes my hand before we split off, and I find the darkest spot possible and press my back against a tree.

The Hybrids move like animals, quick and agile. They’re focused like a hunter seeking prey. I listen and their footsteps go from being in a tight formation to slipping away from one another. They sense us ahead and plan on surrounding us in a tight circle. It’s a smart idea, but there’s a single flaw in their plan.

They don’t expect me.

I can’t see Wyatt in the dark but I hear his heartbeat. It’s steady—the man doesn’t get flustered. This moment, the blink before the battle, is when he’s at his best. He’s patient. Calm and calculated.

Wyatt’s heartbeat is dwarfed and comingled with the Hybrids’ as they approach. The super soldiers are the opposite—the jacked-up adrenaline makes their heart rates soar. The beat echoes in my ear like a drum and I do my best to focus on the other senses. The whisper of their feet over leaves. The swish of fabric. The sharp ting of their weapons. I count down in my mind, waiting…

Waiting.

Waiting.

A foot falls inches from mine and I squeeze the smooth, familiar handle of my hatchet with both hands. The Hybrid senses me a second late and there’s a brief second of realization.

“Yeah,” I say, lifting the hatchet over my head. “I see you.”

I step out of my hiding place and he’s caught a step off. That’s all I need to get first attack. Across the clearing, I hear Wyatt spring into action as I jab the butt of my hatchet into the Hybrid’s jaw. He fumbles and I flip the weapon, swinging the blade at his midsection.

The sharp metal catches fabric but he jumps back quick enough to avoid injury.  My heel jabs into his foot and this time my blade catches his throat. His hands flail at his neck, blood seeping through his fingers. He falls to his knees and I tip him over with my foot before ripping the unused gun out of his hands.

I step over the body and find Wyatt fighting off two male Hybrids. I scan for the fourth but don’t find her. One Hybrid gets his hands around Wyatt’s neck, and the other unsheathes a massive blade. I aim the gun from my spot, something I never would have done before the injection and fire. The bullet zings through the air and both Hybrids turn in my direction while Wyatt slinks on his knees to the ground. The bullet buries into the head of one while Wyatt uses his leverage to flip the other over, stunning him before stabbing him in the heart. We make eye contact but a sharp cry echoes through the trees.

“Dammit,” Wyatt mutters.

We zig-zag through the trees, jumping over brush and fallen branches. Daybreak isn’t far away and the sky above had brightened enough that it’s easy to spot Zoe up in the tree. She’s on the edge of the branch and not alone. The female Hybrid has scaled the tree and now sits in the crook.

“Don’t move,” I shout. The Hybrid doesn’t listen and there’s nowhere for Zoe to go but down. I shoot Wyatt a look. “I’m not letting Hamilton’s daughter get killed on the first night out here, got it?”

“Who’s what?” Wyatt asks, but he shakes his head. The understanding is clear. “I’ll give you a boost.”

He runs to the base of the tree and Wyatt gets down on a knee. I sprint as fast as I can, planting a foot in his clasped palms. He pushes up with all this strength, sending me flying. I collide with the Hybrid, toppling her out of the tree and falling hard and fast. I land hard on my back, her boot against my neck.

I take a punch in the cheek right as Wyatt hits her with a death blow to the head, the crack of the gun handle echoing off her skull.

I’m breathing heavily despite the enhancements, and Wyatt rubs the blood off his hands in the dirt.

“Are you okay?”  I ask Zoe, who’s inching her way back to the trunk. She starts to shimmy down on her own and Wyatt rushes over to catch her before she breaks her neck.

When he steps away she has a massive grin on her face.

“What?” I ask, acutely aware of the dead bodies on the forest floor.

Zoe clasps her hands in front of her chest. “That. Was. Amazing.” Wyatt and I look at one another, but she keeps going, talking a mile a minute. “I’d heard you guys were tough. Like I knew it. The stories and the rumors. Other people thought it wasn’t true. But I knew it was. That’s why I had to come. I needed to see it for myself.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, unable to follow a single word.

A tiny frown appears between her eyes. “Don’t you know? You guys are legends. Alexandra Ramsey and Wyatt Faraday.” She turns to me. “You—you’re the girl that kicks Eater ass. And him,” she points at Wyatt. “He’s a Hybrid-killing legend—like a mixture between Spiderman and a ninja. Everyone knows about you back home. Everyone my father allows into New Hope has heard of the fights and the battles. Like the time you fought off a hundred Eaters, just the two of you.” She takes a deep breath, building steam. “You fought off the devil down south—the one that created the virus, and then your boyfriend turned into a Hybrid. Which had to suck, because, you know, because ouch.”

I shake my head and watch as Wyatt’s face turns a strange shade of red. “Who is saying all this? Where are you hearing it?” The stuff about Cole is pretty specific, although the Devil herself is living in New Hope. I can’t help but wonder if Hamilton knows exactly who Jane is and what she’s done.

“No one in particular. Just survivors coming in.”  Again she smiles, toothy and wide. “Some of the kids have even written stories about it. We pass them around.”

I honestly don’t know how to respond, all this time we’d been fighting so hard to survive—so desperate to stop Chloe—it never crossed our minds that there were other people out there, living lives and doing the mundane, like listening to gossip and creating entertainment about us.

Wyatt, as usual, saves the moment. “Get your stuff. And don’t step on any of the bodies.”

In minutes we’re away from the scene and headed toward the next spot on our map: The meeting place with the other teams.

Zoe walks ahead and Wyatt grips my arm. “Why didn’t you tell me she’s Hamilton’s daughter?”

“I just found out. I swear—I knew something was up but didn’t have time to talk it over with you. Walker is being weird. She’s totally buying into this Safe City concept.”

He grunts. “Don’t keep secrets from me, Alex. It’ll get us killed.”

I don’t fight him—he’s right. “What do you think we should do?”

“For now? Hunt down the Hybrids. Obviously they’re still hunting us, but from there I’m hoping Paul can get us some details on Hamilton and what this guy is up to.”

I follow him through the woods but I’m pretty sure Paul isn’t the only one Wyatt has questions for. Walker may have to answer a few of her own.

*

“What the hell is that?”

Wyatt’s been in a foul mood since the Hybrid attack and it doesn’t get any better when we spot the sign the next day. It’s plastered to the front of a gas station, using patriotism invoking colors and graphics. The colors are bright, which is what caught my attention. Everything post-crisis is faded and worn. The sign has bold reds and blues.

Wyatt, Zoe, and I approach the sign and I read it out loud.

Wanted!

Who: Soldiers from the Southern Army

Crime: Treason

Kill on Sight! Bounties given for proof in Safe Cities.

-Executive Order Issued by Colonel Hamilton, New Hope

Beneath this, in small print, is a list of identifying factors. Dark eyes, aggressive behavior. There’s a warning that they are armed and dangerous. What qualifies as proof is vague.

“I guess my dad sent out the propaganda teams,” Zoe says running her hand over the fresh ink. “He was pretty excited about it.”

“The what?” I ask.

“He had this big idea to push out ahead of the bounty hunters like us and get word out to the survivors. It’s also an intimidation tactic or something. He thinks it will rattle the Hybrids.”

“You’re not a bounty hunter.” Wyatt clenches his jaw. “And nothing rattles a Hybrid.”

“How many of these teams did he plan on sending out?” I ask, starting to grow worried. If they’re roaming the Death Fields alone they may be in serious danger.

“I don’t know. Maybe ten. They were hand-selected from New Hope’s Select Security Guard.”

“Jesus,” Wyatt mutters.

“How long ago do you think they were here?” I ask, scanning the area. There are faint tire impressions in the dried mud near the road.

“At least a few days.”

“What’s the big deal? They can take care of themselves,” Zoe declares. The sun has hit a hard angle and she’s wearing wide black sunglasses.

“Do you remember that attack last night? I don’t care how special those security officers are, if I hadn’t picked up on them miles away we would have been ambushed.”

The girl tilts her head and I really wish I could see her eyes. “Miles away?”

I swallow and Wyatt says nothing, just watches stone-faced. “I’m exaggerating. After a while you know the difference between a deer and a super-soldier. I’m sure one day, if you survive out here, you’ll be able to do the same.”

Her jaw drops. “If I survive?”

“What?” I ask. “Does that hurt your feelings?”

I take a deep breath and walk back toward the road. Wyatt isn’t far behind but I am surprised to hear him talking quietly to her. If anything, he should be more pissed than I am.

I feel his fingers tug at my elbow. I yank away and snap, “What? Am I being too mean?”

“A little. It’s not really her fault her dad is an idiot.”

Fair enough, there have been times I didn’t want the blow back of being Jane’s sister. “I don’t like where this is headed,” I tell him.

“Me either, but we may need her. Keep your enemies close and all that.”

I sigh. “I’m twenty. I don’t think I should have this many enemies.”

He reaches out and tugs the back of my ponytail. “The good news is now we have a place to start.”

“With the propaganda team?’

He nods. “I’m thinking if we can find them, we’ll find our Hybrids.”

I shake my head and look down the long, desolate road. “Hopefully they’ll still be alive.”

Chapter Eight

The pool of blood on the asphalt is the first sign of trouble. The next is a roll of propaganda posters in the weedy grass. Zoe picks it up and then drops it quickly.

“Gross.” Her hands are coated in blood.

“Shut up,” I bite out in a hiss. Wyatt jerks his chin toward a small row of trailers, each one more dilapidated than the last. My adrenaline spikes and in a blink the Mutt takes over, sending my senses on overdrive.

“In there,” I whisper, gesturing to the blue, metal trailer. The roof is a solid sheet of rust and the grass surrounding it is knee length, except where it was recently bent by someone walking through it. The shell of a small sedan hides in the overgrown weeds. I look at Zoe. “Get in that car and don’t make a sound.”

For once, she doesn’t argue, but it’s probably more that she doesn’t want to step foot in that trailer than actually being afraid. Her heart rate accelerates but I don’t catch the scent of fear on her skin. She’s an enigma but not one I can crack right now.

“You take the front,” Wyatt says. “I’ll hit the back.”

I nod and take a step forward, aware of the bloody handprint on the aluminum door. I’m listening, trying to catch on to something—a wisp—a clue. What I inhale isn’t blood or sweat. It’s gasoline.

I look up at the trailer and see the wavy ripple of gas and shout, “Wyatt, run!” a mere heartbeat before the building emits a heavy creak and explodes into a ball of fire.

The heat rolls against my back, singeing the hairs on my neck. I run to the car, praying Zoe is safe inside. Wyatt must have had the same idea because we crash into one another hiding behind the trunk from the raging fire, ducking from falling debris. The sound of bending metal sets me on edge and I say, “They’re all going to blow. I’ll get Zoe.”

“I’ll get her,” he says. “You make sure this isn’t an ambush.”

The fire has built into an inferno, a cyclone thrusting into the sky. Glass shatters, drawing my attention back to the car where Wyatt kicks the cracked window in before dragging Zoe out. I clutch the wooden handle of my hatchet, alert and ready as I head back to the road.

The fire has created a glow that lights up the area for miles. Even if the Hybrids or Mutts or Eaters were nowhere around, they will be soon. Our location has been announced to the surrounding area.

Footsteps echo off the asphalt and a quick glance back tells me it’s not Zoe or Wyatt, who are just emerging red-faced and drenched in sweat from the grass. I hold up my hand and in a heartbeat Wyatt has his gun in his hand.

“How many?” he asks, moving by my side.

“I don’t know.”

He looks at Zoe and says, “Stay close.”

I can’t get a handle on the number coming our way and there’s nowhere to hide—just the fire and empty fields around it—thank God they weren’t closer to the woods. I can just see the eastern part of the state going up in flames.

Wyatt eases his back against mine and Zoe’s shoulders press close, making a triangle. “Don’t panic,” I tell her. “Just go for the kill. We’ll get out of this.”

She snorts. “Of course you’ll get out of this. You’re like, superheroes.”

Before I can tell her to shut her mouth, that we’re not comic book characters, I hear the sound I dread more than anything else: a long, painful howl that soon grows into a chorus louder than the blaze.

“What is that?” Zoe whispers.

“That, sweetheart, is a horde of Eaters. Welcome to the freaking apocalypse.”

*

“We can’t just stand here,” I tell Wyatt. “We need to pick a direction.”

“What if it’s the wrong one?” he shouts. His back is sticky against mine, the heat from the fire unbearably hot.

“Do you want to get pushed back into that?” I jerk my thumb at the fire.

“I don’t want to get eaten,” Zoe says, almost too quiet to hear. “Don’t let me get eaten. Oh my God, we’re going to get eaten.”

Her voice rises on the last sentence and her eyes dart between me and Wyatt.

“Zoe—”

She panics and runs down the street.

“Dammit.” Wyatt rubs the top of his head. “I guess we’ll go that way.”

With the decision made for us, we chase Zoe down the road. The girl is fast, I’ll give her that, and it takes nearly a minute to catch up with her. Looking back, I see smoke has coated the road behind us and my eyes burn and water. Lumbering shadows move in the hazy, yellow light. The screaming howls bounce off the trees and night, taunting us.

“Look, I say we just keep running. We’ll find a place to stop at some point,” I suggest. The hair on my arm stands on end and I inhale. “Or maybe not.”

Wyatt’s eyes dart around. “What?”

I spin around, searching the dark road. We’re not alone. Wyatt’s gun glints in the faint light. An Eater dives out of the dark, then another and two more. They move so fast their faces are a blur. Zoe screams and I raise my hatchet but gunfire pierces the night and each monster falls landing inches away, their screams dying on their lips.

“Wyatt?” I ask.

“Wasn’t me.”  He clutches his unused gun.

We aim for the darkness. If whoever is out there didn’t let the Eaters kill us, most likely because they want to do it themselves.

A figure emerges from the dark and the first thing I spot is a long, graying beard. The second is the barrel of a shotgun. The third actually startles me; it’s a small dog. A Jack Russell, and he rushes over to sniff my feet.

“Rooster! Leave that girl alone,” the man says. “Looks like you got yourself in a pickle. Need a hand?”

“We can manage,” Wyatt says. “But thanks.”

“You look capable.” He glances at Zoe and then at the Eaters on the ground. “But I suggest, you get off this road. Those aren’t the only predators around here.”

I’ve been down this road before and rarely are any of the survivors living in the Death Fields friendly. Most of them are downright deranged, and I’ve got little interest in being locked up in a cage again. Unfortunately, one look over my shoulder tells me he’s right. We need shelter.

I make sure my weapons are visible and ask, “You have a place nearby?”

“Sure do. You’re welcome to rest for a spell.”

Wyatt nods and Zoe shows her naiveté by smiling in relief. I just brace myself for what’s next.

Chapter Nine

We follow the man off the road and away from the Eaters and whatever blew up the trailers. We’re inching closer to the Appalachians and occasionally it’s obvious in the landscape; cliffs become sheer walls of rock. We face one of those now, but the old man expertly navigates a trail up to one side. It looks like notches have been carved out of the rock for steps.

I scale the steps easily, offering a hand to Zoe to help her up the last part. The mutation boils beneath the surface, ignited by heightened adrenaline. I’m growing used to it now and catch myself relying on my senses. It’s wrong and I shouldn’t want the lingering effects, but the Death Fields are dangerous. I’m not sure how long we would last without them; because of the abilities, I can tell the old man’s heart rate is even and I don’t sense the slightest threat.
“How much further?” she asks, as though I would know.

“Just around the ridge,” the old man says. The dog runs just a little ahead, always keeping an eye on us and his owner. “I lived in town before all hell broke loose. My daddy showed me this place when I was just a kid. I think he always expected Armageddon or something. Either that or he thought he may need a place to hide from the cops back when he was a bootlegger.”

Wyatt’s hand grazes my back and we both know we’re crazy to follow this old man deep into the countryside. But we also know something happened to the propaganda team back at the trailer. I’ve little doubt the Hybrids are close by. I’m just hoping not way out here.

At first I don’t even see the shelter. Weedy vines twist up hard rock and I’m suddenly sure the man is crazy when he steps close to the wall and pushes his hands into the greenery. He grunts and leans back, revealing the edge of a thick wooden door.

The three of us hesitate and he looks us up and down. “You think I’m gonna kill you?”

“In the past two years I’ve been held as a prisoner by a crazy person, locked in a cage by a town of deviants and a couple other unpleasant situations. I apologize for being a little nervous about going into a hidden cave with a stranger.”

“You came out of those situations alive?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Did the people make it? The ones that did you wrong?”

I shake my head. “No. They’re dead.”

“Then I guess I’m the one with the poor odds.”

I never thought of it that way. We’re always wondering who our next enemy will be, but I’ve never considered that we may be the ones people should fear. Death and destruction follow us—me in particular—especially with my personal connection to the virus that started it all. I assess the old guy in front of me, with this weathered hands and wrinkly skin. If he made it this far he must be pretty smart. Smart enough not to screw with us.

I smile and offer him my hand, “I’m Alex, by the way. Thanks for leading us out of that mess.”

“I’m Roger.” He grips my hand and looks down at the dog, who is looking back up at us. “That’s Rooster, and we’re just trying to do our part to keep the remains of civilization civil.”

*

The cave is larger on the inside than expected—there’s room to stand and different alcoves for rooms. Battery-powered lanterns light the space. I notice a bowl of fresh eggs and salted meat in a small ’kitchen’ area near the door.

“My daddy made moonshine up here,” he points to a vent that allows him a small stove. “When that virus came around I just started moving up here, a little bit at a time. I’ve got a chicken coop out back and a couple of goats. Those monsters can’t climb up the rock, so the animals are safe.”

“So you’ve been alone this whole time?” I ask.

“Yeah, my wife died ten years ago and my kids are across the country. No idea if they made it or not.” He reaches down and pats the dog on his little head. “I found this guy on the last day I moved up here for good.”

“Why’d you name him Rooster?” Zoe asks.

“Cause he wakes me up at the crack of dawn like clockwork.”

I’m starting to think Roger invited us in because he’s lonely. After my time in solitary with Chloe, I understand better than I’d like to.

He offers us a seat and we sit around a square table. The furnishings are nice and it’s really a pretty good set-up, other than the damp chill that lingers in the air. I rest my weapon on the table and dig in my bag for some food. I pass both Wyatt and Zoe a bag of trail mix.

Wyatt, never content to just sit, pulls out a rag and begins cleaning my hatchet. “Any idea what caused that explosion?”

“Down at those rat-infested trailers? I’d say it was God intervening, but I know better. It’s whoever you guys are hunting.”

Wyatt frowns. “Why do you think we’re hunting someone?”

The man shrugs and strokes his beard. I offer him some of my mix but he waves me off. “You’re traveling light. Just weapons and a pack. Picking up supplies as you go. I’ve watched a lot of things come and go around these parts over the last year. Armies and monsters and sometimes a mix of the two. I saw the signs that group was posting before they got tracked down and slaughtered.”

“The propaganda team was killed?” Zoe asks, her mouth agape in horror.

“Did you set off that explosion?” I ask, the pieces finally clicking together.

He looks at Zoe. “The soldiers or whatever they were came in quick. Those people had no chance, emptying their guns into thin air. I’ve never seen men so fast and efficient. I wanted to give those…things…no reason to return here, and when I saw you guys poking around I knew they’d be back.” He seems so rational but the truth is he almost killed us. I tell him as much and he replies, “Sorry about that. I came back to check and make sure you were in the clear. Unfortunately the monsters were attracted to the fire.”

“Yeah, they seem to like bright light.”

“So are you guys bounty hunters?” He looks between us. “Like on the posters?”

Having learned to hold our cards, Wyatt and I don’t reply right away. Zoe, on the other hand, blurts out, “Hell yeah. We’re here to take those Hybrids down. Clear out the countryside until they’re all gone.”

“Hybrids?”

I sigh and lean across the table. “How about I fix us some dinner and Wyatt can get you up to speed. You willing to share those eggs?”

“For a little company and news?” he asks with a grin. “I think it’s worth the price.”

Chapter Ten

Wyatt gives Roger the rundown of the past two years, skipping the meatier parts about Jane and my relationship to her. He leaves out the betrayals and Cole and the choices we’ve all had to make—the emotional pain and sacrifices. He doesn’t talk about the two of us, the way we’ve fallen in love or the kids he tucked away on the coast of Georgia, praying they’d be safe with a family that was willing to take them in like their own. He does describe the armies, the genetic alterations, and how after finally eliminating Chloe, Hamilton’s rash actions pushed the Hybrids into the Death Fields. Wyatt avoids looking at Zoe but I know he’s aware of how intently she’s listening, absorbing everything, until she grows too tired to stay awake and falls asleep on a cushion on the floor. Rooster sleeps next to the door, his small brown eyebrows moving restlessly.

Our eggs and cheese are long gone and the plates cold by the time Wyatt finishes answering Roger’s questions. The old man listens quietly while stroking his beard. “I knew it was bad, I just didn’t know it was that bad. Genetic stuff? That actually explains a lot about what I’ve seen lately.”

“It’s pretty crazy out there,” I admit.

“And now you’re on clean-up duty.”

“I guess so.”

“Do you know anything about the other Safe Cities?” Wyatt asks him. “We spent most of our time in the dead zone between them. Until we got to New Hope, we had no idea they existed.”

“Me either,” Roger says but hesitates. “Well, a couple of travelers through here were going south, over the mountains, said they heard about a place down there.”

“Into Virginia?” I ask.

“Carolina. Somewhere in tobacco country.” I feel Wyatt’s eyes before I look up. His fist coils into a tight ball. Roger notices. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” I reply in an unsteady voice. “I grew up in Raleigh. It’s where Wyatt and I met.”

“Oh, well maybe that means you can head back home again.”

I feel Wyatt’s other hand on my knee and he squeezes it. Neither of us want to go back home, but we do want to find a way out of this. Another city may be the answer.

*

There’s a hint of sadness in Roger’s eyes when we say goodbye. Wyatt tells him to stay off the roads for now. The Hybrids, as he now knows, are merciless.

“You want us to send word if we find something?” I ask. ’Something’ means an actual safe city—not the manufactured one we just left.

“Nah.” He rubs Rooster’s backside with his foot. “We’ve got everything we need up here. My daddy knew I’d need it one day. He was a smart man, even though he had a need for drink.”

I leave the mountain hideout a little lighter than before, our bellies full of fresh food. If everything goes on schedule we should meet up with Walker and Jude later in the day. I had a feeling Wyatt needed to settle a few things with Walker.

We’d found our meeting spot, a small suburban neighborhood in the town of Bluefield, Kentucky, on the edge of the Appalachians. After talking to Roger, the trajectory makes me a little uncomfortable. I grew up on the opposite side of those mountains and figured I’d never get back home. It’s still a long way off, but knowing my mom and I may have been that close to a Safe City brings out feelings I’m not ready to deal with.

We’re the last to get to the house, coming in long after dark. Zoe begged to stop but Wyatt wanted a bed and apparently, a confrontation.

I’ve barely dropped my bag in the two-story, split-level ranch when he tells Zoe and Mary Ellen to go upstairs.

“Turn on the TV or something,” he says, without the slightest trace of humor.

Mary Ellen opens to mouth to argue but I give her a small headshake. It’s not worth it and Wyatt is on the warpath. There’s no need to be in the blast zone.

Walker hasn’t moved from her spot at the large dining room table, visible from the front door. She’s eating pudding from a plastic cup. The kitchen cabinets behind her are open and there’s a surprising amount of supplies inside. Wyatt sits at the table across from her and pulls off the foil lid, licking the foil off the top. Jackson, Jude, and I watch warily as the two square off.

“You seem agitated,” Walker finally says, discarding her cup.

“Do you care to explain what Hamilton’s daughter is doing with us? And why no one told me?”

“Hamilton’s what?” Jude asks, looking at me. I mouth back “Zoe” and he nods, processing it slowly. Jackson doesn’t seem remotely surprised so I assume he already knew.

“Honestly? I don’t.” Walker stands and pushes her chair back under the table. She grabs her gun off the couch and shoves it in her belt. We watch as she walks away from Wyatt and storms out the door. The rest of us wait—the room completely quiet—as Wyatt gathers his anger and follows her outside. The door closes with a slam, rattling the windows. It only takes a few seconds for the screaming to start.

Walker and Wyatt had worked together from the beginning. I didn’t know they were both Fighters tasked with making sure I safely arrived with the original vaccine data at PharmaCorp. They’d always had a professional relationship but something has set them on edge. I move past Jackson and Jude to listen.

“We don’t keep secrets,” Wyatt says. “You know that’s how someone gets killed and I’m pretty sure none of us want Zoe’s death on our shoulders.”

Walker laughs. “Are you accusing me of keeping secrets? I’m sorry, I thought that was your job, Mr. Enigma.”

There’s a string of expletives that makes me glance sideways at Jude, who has moved closer to listen. This argument isn’t new; Walker has never thought Wyatt has been transparent enough.  Wyatt, frankly, doesn’t give a damn.

“I know you’re hiding something big this time,” she says. Her voice is lower—more serious. I watch Jude to see if he caught it. He did.

“Me? You’re paranoid,” Wyatt says.

“No. I’ve seen a better way,” she snaps back. “There’s hope out there Wyatt, and it’s within our reach. We just have to finish the job.”

“You think tracking down hundreds of Hybrids is going to be easy? It may take decades.”

“I’m willing to make that sacrifice.” I peek out the window and see Walker’s eyes narrowed at him. She says, “You never mention the Mutts.”

“They aren’t my first priority. You know that.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Her voice is cold—accusatory. “I think they are your first priority. More than you, or anyone else in that house wants to admit.”

Wyatt has been pacing, letting off pent-up anger, but he stops inches from Walker. “You’re brainwashed. Hamilton did something to you. We were a team and you know Erwin and the others had no choice but to turn Mutt. None. That sacrifice—a real one—saved all of our asses from the Hybrids. The Mutts are not our enemies and I’m not going to pretend they are just because some paper pusher up in New Hope,” he rolls his eyes at the cheesy name, “has convinced you to do his dirty work.”

Jude and I hold a look because we’re very close to territory we can’t come back from. Wyatt isn’t wrong—he’s completely right--but these are dangerous accusations. We don’t have an army backing us here or anything else. Walker does. “Watch your mouth,” Walker says. “You’re close to treason.”

He blinks twice and then laughs. “You don’t get it. It can’t be treason. I’m not part of your country. What country? You’ve got one functioning city and rumors of others, but I didn’t go through the last two years to be beholden to a man I don’t know or trust.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means I’m done with this shit. I’m not working for you or Hamilton or anyone else.”

“If you walk away from this you’ll be a wanted man—same goes for anyone else that goes with you.”

“They’ll have to make that decision on their own.”

Huh. That statement ruffles my feathers and when he barges back in the house and goes straight for his bag, I wait for him to even notice I’m in the room.

“I’ll check on the girls,” Jude says. He adds quietly, “Don’t leave without me.”

Jackson exhales heavily and walks outside to check on Walker. I’m not sure if we’re enemies now. This whole thing is confusing. Why do we have to fight one another?

“So you’re leaving?” I finally ask, when it’s clear Wyatt is more focused on his pack than anything else.

“I don’t work like this—with others—you know that.”

“You worked with Erwin.”

“That was a special circumstance.” His jaw ticks. I must not look convinced because he walks over, touches my chin and says, “I had to find you.”

“Out there—you made it sound like you’d go on your own. Take off again.” It’s stupid to feel needy right after he made it clear he made choices for me. But Wyatt and I are new. This thing between us is in its infancy and I’ve definitely never navigated waters like this.

“I’m not leaving you, if that’s where this is headed.”

His hazel eyes bore into mine and I swallow. “It’s not—not really. I get that you’re committed to this. To me. But you stormed out there and made a decision for all of us. A potentially deadly one, and that’s not okay.”

Anger flashes across his face. Not at me but himself. I take a step closer and rest my hand on his hip. “You and I are a partnership now. More than ever before. We have to think of one another.”

“Like you did when you took the EVI-3?”

Ouch. “Fair enough.”

He sighs and wraps his hand around the back of my neck. “We’re both stubborn and strong-willed. We’ll mess up, but we’ll do it together. You didn’t want to stay, did you?”

“Oh, hell no. Walker is off her nut. Something is wrong with her and I don’t think we need to stick around here any longer than necessary.”

“I think she knows about you and the others.”

“The EVI-3?”

“Yeah. Maybe she can just sense it or who knows, they may have had some intel? Either way, her loyalties to Hamilton make working with her dangerous.”

“Are you ready to be a wanted man?” I ask.

He cracks a grin and it nearly breaks my heart. “With you by my side? Any day.”

Chapter Eleven

Dawn breaks cloudy and cold. The grass out front is coated in frost and I dig up a pair of gloves from the depths of my bag. Jude and Mary Ellen wait near the mailbox, both eager for distance.

Zoe peers through the front window. A deep frown is set on her
heart-shaped mouth. She wasn’t invited.

We know this could be settled right here, but no one wants that to happen. Not us, not Walker or Jackson. It’s the calm before a disastrous storm. The next time we see one another I fear there will be casualties. I honestly can’t think that far ahead.

Walker grabs my arm when I pass her on the porch. “Don’t do this Alex. I’ll have to hunt you down. I have my orders.”

“Do what you have to. We are. Isn’t that where we are in this world right now? It’s about survival. It always has been. Hunting down friends isn’t surviving. It’s just being imprisoned by another dictator. Another Jane. Another Chloe.”

I’m shocked to see her eyes water. “I can’t lose this chance. I want what New Hope has to offer. I need a commander like Hamilton.”

I nod and carefully extract my arm away from her tight grip. “I hope you get what you want. Good luck.”

Chapter Twelve

The distance from Bluefield, Kentucky to Mount Airy, North Carolina is three hundred and seven miles. Straight over the Appalachians. By foot, on my calculations it would take over twenty, fifteen-mile days to get there. That’s time we don’t have now that winter is coming and we’re officially on the run.

The first thing we do after leaving Walker is head for the local high school a mile away.  Vehicles pack the parking lot from back when the building was used as an evacuation center. A few Eater’ roam the outsides and I have zero interest in opening up the can of decaying worms on the inside. Unfortunately, a place like this is our best shot at finding a working car, so while Jude and Wyatt search one by one, Mary Ellen and I keep watch.

When Wyatt is out of earshot I ask, “How are you feeling? Like, physically.”

Mary Ellen’s hair is tied in a tight knot at the back of her head. She looks years older since when we met last spring. The innocent Mennonite, in her long dress and childish braids, that I met hiding in that farm house is long gone. Her bright blue eyes carry a haunted look and I notice her pupils grow big every once in a while.

I have a feeling mine do the same.

“You mean the injection?” she asks.  I nod. “I can feel it running in my veins. Not as much, but some.”

An Eater lumbers in our direction, getting caught between the tightly packed rows of cars. Like a rat in a maze trying to get to the treat at the end.

“I feel it too—especially when we’re in trouble, you know?”

“Yes, that’s it exactly. When Jude and I were off on our own we ran into a Hybrid—just one. We managed to get the jump on him and took care of him easily. I don’t think the results would have been the same without the injection.” She watches the Eater get past another car. He howls in warning, desperate and a little lame. “Do you think it will stay like this? Like a little bit there?”

I know what she’s asking and why. It’s nice to have a little something extra out here but it’s also not what any of us want. Not in the same way as Hamilton and his keeping the humans pure directive, it’s not like that, but we don’t know what this means. How could it change us and who we are?

“If Jane were here we could ask her.” A strange cloud crosses her face. “What?”

“Have you noticed anything else?” she asks.

“Like what?”

The tips of her ears turn red and she glances around. The men are a row over, looking under the hood of a black Camaro. “I haven’t had my monthly.”

I frown. “Your—oh, right. Huh.” I look her over and mentally dig for my biology. I was pre-med after all. “You’re skinny as hell and fat is hard to come by out here.”

“You don’t think it’s the injection?”

“I honestly don’t know, but I doubt it.” I grab her by the upper arm and wrap my whole hand around it. “Seriously. Skinny as hell.”

She laughs and the blush fades. The Eater moves closer and I sigh, prepared to go take care of him, when the rev of a large engine echoes off the parking lot. I turn and Wyatt gives us a thumbs-up.

“Come on. Leave him,” I say, pointing to the Eater. I don’t feel like getting into it today—not yet at least. “Let’s get out of here.”

*

A light, cold rain starts the next day, making me even more grateful for the car. The tank was full when we found it and we stashed a couple extra siphoned cans in the back. We climb higher into the mountains, the roads twisting and sharp. Twice we have to get out of the car to move rock debris from the roads that must have fallen over the last year or so. Mary Ellen’s face turns green and she closes her eyes during the worst of it. When it grows dark I beg Wyatt to stop.

“Just pull over into one of the scenic lookouts. It’s too dangerous to ride at night.”

“We’re only a hundred miles out.” His eyes flash to mine in the rearview mirror.

“I don’t care. It’s too dark. You can’t see.” I don’t add that the rain and slippery roads make it worse. “I’m pretty sure Mary is gonna barf all over the back seat, okay? The twisty roads are worse back here.”

The girl grunts in agreement, pressing her hands over her eyes. Wyatt slows but doesn’t stop. I know he’s eager to get out to our destination, but killing ourselves in the process isn’t the way to do it.

“What are we going to do in Mount Airy?” Jude asks. “You think it’s the Safe City?”

“Could be,” Wyatt replies. His hands tap on the steering wheel. “It’s the first town we’ll come to after crossing the mountains. From there we have Greensboro and Winston-Salem. Raleigh and Durham further west.”

“Raleigh isn’t a Safe City,” I tell them. “I was there when it all went down. It was falling apart pretty quickly.”

“I feel the same about Asheville,” Wyatt says.

Jude twists to look at me in the back. “What if Hamilton beats us there?”

A flash of white catches my eye by the side of the road. “Wyatt! Look out!” I scream but whatever it is flies across the hood of the car, landing with a thud. Wyatt brings the car to a skidding stop, the wheels sliding across the slick pavement. I lurch forward, arms out to keep from smashing into the seat in front of me. Mary Ellen hits her head against the side window, crying out in pain. Whatever he hit is lying on the ground just out of view in front of the bumper.

“Shit was that a deer?” Jude asks.

“Deer?” I ask, trying to get a better look. The hair on the back of my neck pricks.

“I don’t know,” Wyatt says. He reaches for his gun and checks the chamber. Jude’s already unlocked his door and I grip the back of the seats. Mary Ellen sits up straight, her weapon in her hand.

“Do not get out of this car,” I say. “Just keep driving.”

“Alex, calm down, I’m just going to get out and check. You’re the one that wanted to stop.”

Jude hesitates and scans the road outside his window. Wyatt, stubborn as ever, gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He walks in a wide arch around the front, his body lit up from the waist down by the head lights. An awful feeling builds in my stomach and I scramble between the seats, over the gear shift and into the driver’s seat. I have a better view of Wyatt, who walks slowly toward the car, gun raised.

“What is it?” Mary Ellen asks from the back.

“I don’t know but I don’t think it’s a deer.”

I reach for the door handle just as gunfire splits the night. Wyatt gets off two shots, both wide and not directed at the body on the ground. Before I can move the driver’s side door is wrenched off its hinges. A hand reaches in and yanks me out of the seat. Through the misting rain, I sense the danger around us. Multiple heartbeats, dozens of footsteps. We’re surrounded and it only takes a blink to realize it’s a Hybrid ambush.

At least ten pour from the dark with crazy eyes and ragged clothes. With no leader they’ve succumbed to feral instincts—the one holding me growls in my ear. It’s a thin line between Hybrid and Eater. I don’t want to be the one that pushes him over.

Mary Ellen yells as she’s ripped from the back seat. Jude is dragged across the road. I take a deep, fueled breath and smash the back of my head into the Hybrid’s face while stomping on his foot. I spin and fire, bullets puncturing the center mass of his body. He falls and two more take his place.

I take the closest one, kicking her hand and knocking the gun to the ground. She lunges for it but I shoot her twice. One misses but the other lands in her temple before she reaches her weapon. I don’t get a chance to breathe before the next one charges and I’m tossed to the ground like a rag doll.

Already I sense a change in the Hybrids. Less methodical—a little more feral. It’s a bad situation and I roll out of the way just before a blade comes crashing down, sparking off the asphalt. I swipe her legs and jump to my feet, racing to use the door as a shield. From there I unleash the remaining bullets, praying one will hit the target.

“I’m out of ammo!” I shout, throwing my useless gun. The Hybrid bats it aside and eyes me with a greedy look. A low rumble vibrates against the mountains and it’s odd enough to distract me. The Hybrid clocks me across the jaw, snapping my head back and rattling my teeth. He drags me across the pavement, my head scraping the rocky surface. The noise only gets louder and angrier, approaching at fast speeds. I see the lights first—the chrome next. Motorcycles, two of them, burst onto the scene and the people driving them jump into the fight quicker than I can process.

The fighters are light on their scuffed boots, but large in size—men—most likely Mutts. I don’t know where they’ve come from but I’m glad they’re here. One carries two guns at once, shooting in tandem. The bullets zing through the air, one only missing my head because I duck. The Hybrid that punched me in the face isn’t so lucky. It nails him straight between the eyes.

I turn to look at our guardian angels and in the glow from the headlights spot a wicked, skull-faced grin plastered across a dark bandana. It’s Mutt for sure—dark eyes connect with mine for the briefest flash before he starts firing again, taking out two more Hybrids.

Wyatt drags another in front of the car, head locked between his elbow and forearm. The man struggles but Wyatt makes it quick, snapping his neck in one swift motion.

Gunshots pierce the night. Bodies fall like the rain and as fast as it started it’s over. One Mutt reaches down and helps Jude off the ground—the other—with a familiar set of shoulders beneath his own creepy bandana and a dark, ear-covering stocking cap checks each victim to make sure they’re really dead.

“It’s good to see you,” Wyatt says, one second before Paul tugs off his bandana.

As much as I’m happy it’s Paul I can’t keep my eyes off of Cole, who has made no effort to talk or to approach us. I never know which man he’ll be; friend or foe.

“How’d you find us?” Jude asks, wiping his hands on his pants. His hair is slick with rain and a bloody scrape shines on his cheek.

“We had a little help,” he says, eyes flicking to mine. I raise my eyebrows, because not many people out there want to help us right now. “I made her stay back—out of the fight.”

“I tied her to the bike,” Cole says, walking past us.

I look back into the dark, behind the glaring headlight, and see a figure mounted on the back. It takes him a second to free the girl but within moments it’s revealed who led them this way.

Zoe.

Chapter Thirteen

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask her, before casting a worried glance at Wyatt. Walker and Jackson and God-knew-who-else could’ve followed them. “Where’s Walker?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to stay with them, okay?”

I roll my eyes. Her reply betrays every bit of Zoe’s immaturity. “I’m not sure you had a choice?”

“Yeah, thanks for leaving me like that.”

“Zoe, I don’t think you get what we’re doing and who we are.”

“I know my father is watching you. I know he’s scared. I know there’s more out there than the perfect little Utopia he presents back in New Hope.” She flicks her eyes at Paul and Cole. “I know these guys aren’t bad even if they are a little weird.”

Wyatt looks like he could grind a walnut with the back of his jaw and the others just seem perplexed. “You don’t belong out here,” Jude finally says. “You’re going to get killed.”

“I don’t care.” Her eyes plead her case. “These last few years…everything my father told me, I believed. I thought we were the chosen people—that he was the chosen one that would lead us out of this crisis. I never thought differently until I started hearing stories about you guys. How you were fighting outside New Hope’s walls, with the very people that he considers an abomination and an enemy. My father thinks the world exists in black and white, but it can’t; if it did then that virus never would have happened in the first place.”

I don’t want to tell her that my sister created that virus to help people and fight back against radical idealization like Boko Haram. To do what the government couldn’t—or wouldn’t. It seems conflicting with what she’s saying now, that Jane did this to fight the radicals and in the end created more.

“How did you find these guys?” Wyatt asks.

“We picked her up,” Paul says. “We’d been tracking you and a couple of the propaganda teams for a few days. We lost your trail just after you got into Bluefield—thought maybe you went down with that explosion.”

“No, but we were there,” I say.

“Yeah, we picked up again near the house you stayed at with Walker. We were trying to figure out what to do about her when this one came running down the street.”

“We thought we could use her as leverage,” Cole says. “But it wasn’t necessary. She told us everything and where you guys were most likely headed.”

“And then you saved our asses from those Hybrids,” Jude adds. “Thanks, by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” Zoe replies, as though Jude is speaking to her. He’s not.

Wyatt looks to Paul and Cole. “We’re headed to the next Safe City. We think it may be near Mount Airy.”

Paul shakes his head. “Past that. We heard Winston-Salem.”

It’s a small town west of Raleigh. I’m pretty familiar with the area made famous for processing tobacco plants and making cigarettes. My mom grew up there.

“I’ve heard that name,” Zoe adds. “My father mentioned it a few times. I never knew why though.”

“At the very least, it gives us a destination,” I say. “Once we’re there we can see what they know about what’s going on out here.  If they know about Hamilton or the Hybrid wars or anything else.”

“Or the bounty most likely issued on our heads by now,” Jude adds.

“It’s a risk, but it’s one I think we need to take.”

“Guys, look,” Mary Ellen says. Her eyes are glued over my shoulder. The rain has finally stopped falling and a hard breeze pushes the clouds over the mountain just as the sun rises. The fight took place at the top of a ridge, giving us a magnificent view of the valley. I walk toward the sight, stepping over bodies and sticky pools of blood, in awe of the gold and pink sky bleeding through the haze. A hand rests on my lower back before Wyatt’s arm snakes around my waist.

Movement to my left catches my attention and I steal a look at Cole, tugging his cap off his head. Curly yellow hair spills across his forehead, instantly aflame from the breaking sun. He stares at me for a moment and then looks back at the sunrise, his face awash in light.

“Maybe it’s a sign we’ll be okay,” I say quietly. “That we’re headed toward something better.”

Wyatt doesn’t reply, he’s too cynical for that, but his arms tighten around me and we stand on that mountain top with our friends, ready for what comes next.

*

We stop overnight in Mount Airy and find the town plastered in posters. The town itself appears abandoned—the streets are quiet other than a few roaming Eaters we ignore. No one is in the mood for an altercation and when we find a small house cleared and already boarded up, we settle in before dark.

“I’ll take first shift,” Cole says.

Jude’s expression doesn’t hide his concern at leaving Cole on duty, so before anyone can argue I chime in, “Me too.”

Cole heads outside and I check my weapons. Wyatt grabs my arm. “I’ll be inside if you need me.”

“I’m a big girl, Sergeant Faraday. I can take care of myself.”

He gives me a fast kiss and says, “You’re not the one I’m worried about.”

I walk away but then groan when I spot Paul loitering in the doorway. “You too?”

“I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“About Cole? Trust me, I can handle him. We’ve been through hell and back together.”

He runs his hands through his hair. “He’s doing better. Less angry than before. The time on the road gives him a chance to breathe and think about everything without having to deal with people.”

“How’s he handing Chloe’s death?”

“Not great.” He grimaces. “He’s not dangerous—to you or anyone else here, but just be careful. He’s on edge.”

I nod. “Thanks for the info. I’ll behave out there.”

“He will too.”

I button my coat and step outside, tugging up my collar from the chilly breeze. Cole stands on the front porch, rifle standing by his leg. He leans over the railing and looks down the picturesque street. It’s dark with nothing but the moon to light the night.

“Did you know I used to be afraid of the dark?” I ask. My voice sounds too loud, but there’s no way to modulate it for the utter silence of the town.

Cole glances over at me, eyes dark. He says nothing but shakes his head. I continue. “I don’t just mean when I was a kid. I was scared even when I was older—like up to when we left the house. I always had some kind of light on in the house but even then, once I got into bed I wouldn’t get up. I was terrified of something under my bed or lurking just out of sight in the darkness. One time we went camping for Girl Scouts and I cried until my mom let me sleep in the car.”

Without looking over, Cole finally speaks. “I find that hard to believe.”

“I was un-athletic. I played video games and spent most of my time on the computer or with my nose in a book. I wanted straight A’s and desperately to be valedictorian. Everything about me was the opposite of what I am today.” I shake my head at myself. “I was such a nerd.”

“But you’re here.”

“I am. I’m no longer afraid of the dark. In fact, I find it sort of comforting.” I turn to face him. I’m not prepared for what he says next.

“Thank you for taking care of Chloe.”

I stare at him for a second. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry I had to do it.”

“I know. She gave you no choice, but you…you gave me one by not making me do it. I owe you for that.”

“We don’t owe each other anything, Cole. We’re both just survivors out here.”

We settle into quiet. I have a million things I want to ask him; about himself or about the EVI-3 still running in my veins. The questions are on the tip of my tongue when I feel him watching me.

“What?” I ask.

“Is he good to you?”

He. Wyatt.

Just his name kicks my heart into gear and I feel my cheeks flush with heat. Cole doesn’t need to see my face to know these things. Even in the dark his senses, which are much stronger than mine, pick up on it but I answer him anyway. “Yes. I know he can be difficult to work with sometimes but—”

He holds up his hand. “Don’t. I just wanted to be sure, because you deserve the best.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be. Like I said, you deserve the best and that’s not me right now.” I touch his shoulder. He tenses. “But I’m trying.”

“Good. We don’t give up on each other out here. We can’t afford to.”

He opens his mouth to speak but whatever he was going to say he keeps to himself. An owl hoots in the distance and we pause, both listening for danger. For once, it doesn’t come.

Chapter Fourteen

We roll into Winston-Salem the next afternoon, parking the Camaro at the edge of the city. Cole and Paul don’t come into town with us. It’s too risky and although they haven’t given specifics it seems they’ve got their own mission.

We parted about thirty miles out and I took Paul to the side. “You guys be careful, okay? I doubt Walker is far behind.”

“Okay, mom.” He made a face but it was kind. Paul actually knew my mom and it’s always nice to have someone else who remembered her. “Hamilton may be unhinged but he’s right about the Hybrids.”

“So you’re going to track them?”

“Just trying to assess the situation with them and the other Mutts.”

“Yeah, I reiterate: be careful.” I glanced over at Cole, who was tinkering on his motorcycle with Jude’s help. “And take care of him. You’re right. I think he’s doing better but he’s got a ways to go yet.”

Paul searched my face. “How are you doing? Any side effects from the EVI-3? Jude says he still gets a kick from the juice here and there.”

“Yeah, a little. Nothing we can’t disguise and nothing I think that will stick around long term.” I frowned. “I guess that’s the downside of experimental medicine.”

“You guys use discretion. Don’t let anyone know.”

“We won’t.”

We parted from there, the sound of their motorcycles tearing down the road. They were not quiet but I supposed it was intentional. They wanted to lure their friends and enemies out of hiding.

The city has a similar gated system like New Hope so it must have been provided by the Feds before the Crisis, just like Hamilton explained. The metal structure rises two stories high and it’s visible two blocks away. Wyatt stops the five of us and says, “Don’t use your real names or give them any information about New Hope.” He gives Zoe a hard look. “Stick together.”

“How do we ensure that?” Jude asks.

Zoe points at Mary Ellen’s hand—and the silver band wrapped around her ring finger. “Tell them you’re married. If the process is similar to New Hope they won’t split up families.”

Jude raises his eyebrows at Mary Ellen and she nods. She looks better today. I think getting out of the mountains helped. “We can do that.”

Zoe looks at me and Wyatt. “It’s okay if you don’t have a ring. Just say it was stolen. But we’ve both got dark hair. I’ll tell them you’re my sister,” she says to me. I want to suggest being my sister carries a stigma that certainly doesn’t ensure safety but I nod my approval.

I clench my fingers on the straps of my bag and take a step toward the main road leading to the gate. A sharp tug brings me to a stop and Wyatt’s standing over my shoulder. Jude looks back and Wyatt says, “Give us a minute.”

“What’s up?” I ask, taking stock of the man before me. He’s got his hand shoved in his pocket and a tight jaw. His hair is longer than normal, curling behind his ears and the hair on his chin more beard than just scruff. He won’t look at me directly, instead somewhere near my right boot and clarity rings like a bell in my mind. “Look, we don’t have to pretend to be married. Zoe and I can play sisters. You can be our brother or whatever.”

He replies with a laugh and he glances up at me with amusement. “I’m not your whatever.”

“No.” I push my toe into the dirt on the ground and blink at the ground. “No, you’re not.”

He steps forward and I look back up, something shiny flashes in his hand. “I found this in your bag when you were gone—when Chloe took you.”

Emotion wells in my chest. “I thought I lost it.”

“I just wanted a piece of you with me. Then it felt like I should just…wait for the right time or something.” He catches my hand in his own and pushes the ring on my finger. “Now is not the right time. I know that and I know it’s not for real, but—”

“It’s real enough,” I say. I push up on my toes and kiss him on the lips. I’m not ready to be married but nothing about this world is normal anymore. I’ve found a partner I can trust and we’re good together. I’m not scared.

Mary Ellen’s eyes notice my new accessory immediately but there’s no time for discussion. Guards approach us and we’re about to enter another walled city and another quarantine and check point.

Zoe moves to my side and Wyatt’s fingers thread through mine. At least I won’t be doing it alone.

Chapter Fifteen

Winston-Salem is a small but functioning city. Getting through quarantine isn’t easy and we spend 48 hours being processed. It’s smart and although it’s tedious, no one complains. No one wants an infected roaming the streets.

For the interview we have a basic story; friends and family that managed to stay alive for nearly two years when our supplies ran out and we were forced on the road. Along the way we heard about Winston-Salem. It’s not far from the truth.

Just before we’re released were gathered for a smaller, less dramatic orientation that the city was chosen due to its size, location and strong medical and academic communities to be part of the Safe City program the government had established in case of catastrophe. It took time for the communities to get on their feet and the city itself is a fraction of the size of the original town, but they are in the process of establishing trade with New Hope.

“There’s also a viable Safe City in Birmingham, but getting across South Carolina and Georgia has proven to be a problem,” the woman leading our tour explains. Her name is Sophia and she’s young and Asian with short, cropped hair and wearing the kind of shoes that are appropriate post-Crisis. I like her already.

Jude clears his throat. “What kind of problem. Exactly.”

“From what we understand, the Georgia-Florida line was the hardest hit by the parasite. It caused an immediate breakdown that took a little bit longer to ripple up here. Between the Eaters, subsequent military action, and what seems to be additional biological warfare added into the mix, that entire area is a hot zone.”

“The Death Fields,” I say.

“What?” she asks.

“We call them the Death Fields. The no-man’s land between the cities. And yeah, we spent time in the middle of that. It was pretty bad.”

“You were there?” She looks shaken. “And survived?”

Jude answers, “It wasn’t easy, but yes.”

“I’m sure the council will be interested in what you have to say. They’re always looking for as much information about outside the city as possible. There are a lot of rumors so they’re particularly interested in firsthand accounts. We’re establishing our first expeditions outside the walls.”

“You’ve had no military?” Wyatt asks.

“Oh we have a military. But their primary function has been to clear the surrounding area from Eaters. We’ve been busy here, pushing into the surrounding towns like Greensboro and Durham. Luckily it’s been some time since we’ve had an attack.”

“Have you made it to Raleigh?” I ask hopefully.

“Yes, they’re all mostly cleared of the infestation. Now that our own environment is under control, we hope to come to a better understanding with New Hope so we can get trade routes established.” She smiles, pointing us to a hotel not far from intake. Armed guards stand in the doorways. “That’s the plan, at least.”

“What kind of understanding?” Zoe asks.

The smile falters and Sophie’s face takes on a more guarded expression. “You would think at the end of civilization things would get less political—that we would have common goals of survival and progress.”

“They aren’t?” Mary Ellen asks. Her face betrays nothing. None of us give an inch on what we know.

“I have faith, but nothing is easy,” she says, stopping at the doorway. “I’ll set up a meeting for you all with the council. Until then you can find details about our community in your rooms. It’s only two bedrooms but the pantry is stocked. If you pass the interview we’ll give you all more permanent quarters.”

“Thank you, Sophia,” I say. “What can we expect from the interview?”

“It’s a standard process everyone must go through. Full background and any information you can share about how you got here and what you’ve seen.” She smiles. “Go rest. I suspect the council will want to speak to you soon.”

I have no doubt that’s true, but I do wonder how much they’ll actually know. Zoe and even Walker admitted we’ve gained some celebrity status. Has it come this far? If they recognize us will they know we’re wanted and on the run? Or exactly what kind of experience we have in the Death Fields? Once again I feel myself getting sucked into another powerful entities game. I glance at the ring on my finger. More and more, I just want to live my life in peace.

*

Even though it’s mid-day we use the time in our hotel room to sleep. There’s not much preparation we can do. There are guards on every hallway, the elevator and at the exits. It’s a smart move—this town seems nice. I would protect it too.

The room is more of a suite and has two bedrooms attached. I’m about to move into one with Wyatt when Mary Ellen grabs my wrist. “Will you stay with me? It doesn’t feel right sharing a bed with another man.” She swallows. “Not yet.”

I’ve noticed the dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes. She’s still mourning Finn and deeply exhausted. “Sure,” I say. “Zoe, you take the couch. Guys, the other room.”

A grimace ghosts over Wyatt’s face but he looks sympathetically at Mary Ellen and heads to the room with Jude. I crawl into the bed, dressed with my boots on. I have no idea if the sheets are really clean but my last solid sleep was in the car, so no complaints. I tuck my hatchet under the pillow and close my eyes.

“Get some rest,” I say, already half asleep.

“You too, Alex.”

I fall hard and even when I feel the shift of the bed and squeak of the bathroom door I can’t bring myself to fully wake. It’s only hours later, when the sky has grown dark that I realize Mary Ellen has left the bed and never came back. The bathroom door is closed and I spot a faint light underneath the crack.

“Hey,” I call out. I stretch my arms over my head. “Are you okay?”

There’s a long hesitation and then, “Yes.” Her voice wavers and it’s followed by the sound of her blowing her nose.

“M.E., I can’t even imagine what it’s like to lose someone like that. If I lost Wyatt…well, there were a few times I did think I lost him. I thought he was dead when Chloe locked us up. I mourned him. For months. It wasn’t easy, but if you need me I’m here. Anytime.” I lean against the door frame and push away those terrible feelings of loss. There’s no response from the other side of the door and I call out, “Mary Ellen?”

The door jerks open and I stumble forward, nearly smashing into the girl. Her face is streaked red and it’s clear she’s been crying. I reach out to give her a hug but she pushes my hands away before balling hers into tight fists.

“I have something to say,” her voice wobbles, but her chin juts in the air.

“Okay. Sure.”

“Finn and I weren’t married, you know that. But we were very much in love. I’m sure he was my soul mate.”

“He loved you so much, M.E. I’ve never seen a man look at someone with such devotion.”

She shakes her head. “We never could have been together in our old community. Never. It wouldn’t have been allowed.”

I reach for one of those balled-up fists and take it in mine. “Then I’m glad you had time together, even if it was in the middle of the freaking apocalypse. I mean, I never would have met Wyatt if this hadn’t happened. I wouldn’t know you or Jude or Paul. I’ve made some amazing friends because of this and it’s too hard to say if I’d give them up to make everything go back to normal, you know? Would I trade Wyatt for my mom?”

The thought makes me queasy.

“Alex?”

“Yeah?” I look up at Mary Ellen’s face and suddenly she seems very, very young.

“I’m pregnant.”

*

There’s not enough time for me to process Mary Ellen’s announcement before Sophia has returned, asking us to follow her to the council meeting. A hundred scenarios flip through my brain about the pregnancy; the biggest is who would bring a child into a disaster like this? Between the Eaters and Hybrids and people living on the fringe I can’t imagine the burden. I don’t speak my concerns and try my hardest to keep the thought off my face. Instead I say, “We’ll figure something out.”

“I’m worried about the EVI-3. I didn’t know when I took the shot.”

Great.  Add mutant baby to the pile of things to worry about.

Mary Ellen cleans herself up and I meet the others in the living area. Wyatt studies my face and asks quietly, “You okay?”

“Just girl stuff.”

He raises an eyebrow and my cheeks blush. He’s not an idiot. “Not my girl stuff. Hers. No big deal.”

Lies lies lies.

By the time we reach the council meeting I think I’ve regained my composure and to be honest, Mary Ellen looks fine. Relieved, even. I guess telling someone made her feel better and she’s had longer to accept it. I’m still reeling.

Sophia brings us to the courthouse and stops at a door that still has the tag ’Courtroom A’ tagged to the wall. “Everyone that enters the city has to come across the review board. It’s just for basic safety. Some survivors are a bit erratic when they arrive. We don’t kick them out but it’s important people get the help they need,” she says. “I’ve briefed them on what you’ve told me already and the council is eager to hear about your experiences. The trickle of survivors slows with each passing week. There are not many people still living out there.”

“Oh they’re out there—they’re just content where they are,” I say. “Or they have no idea you’re here.”

“We’ve had to be careful about alerting the wider area of our existence.” I don’t blame her. Chloe would have steam rolled over this place in rage-fueled heartbeat.

“Smart.”

She peeks in the window and says, “They’re ready. Follow me.”

There’s a circular table at the front of the room across from wooden benches. Eleven members of the council sit behind the table, a variety of ages and cultures. Their shoes are visible and I note they’re mostly sneakers or boots. One man has a knife strapped to his thigh. I feel a sense of relief. No one who understands what’s happening outside the gates wears shoes you can’t run and fight in or walks around unarmed. Already these people seem more together than the officials we met in New Hope.

We file into the front row, confident in our unity. We agreed in the apartment we would find out what the council knew about the outside world—about Hamilton and the Hybrids. I get the feeling they’re not clueless but until you experience it yourself, it’s hard to judge. Hamilton lives in a glass house. His ideas are dangerous.

“Welcome to Winston-Salem,” the woman at the center of the table says. She has light brown skin and thick black hair, streaked with white, pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck. Her eyes are a vivid green and there are deep lines that claw outward, giving the air of someone much older. Life hasn’t been easy for this woman. “I’m Roberta Perez, chairperson of the council. It seems you’ve had quite the journey.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jude replies. He has the best manners and most unassuming nature. We voted him spokesperson. “We met one another in Augusta. It’s been a long journey.”

The men and woman glance at one another and Ms. Perez speaks again. “Our scouts tell us anything south of Columbia, South Carolina is impassible.”

“Possibly,” Jude says again. “It’s been a while since we left that area. Conflict was high at the time. Different groups vying for territory.”

“What kind of groups?” a young man with a thick beard asks. His name tag says Ethan.

“Militant groups,” Jude says. “There were a few former military groups around as well as people that took up arms.”

No one utters the name PharmaCorp.

“Were you part of one of these groups?” Ethan asks.

“At one time or the other. It was best to stick with larger community—for protection and safety.”

“Mr…” Ms. Perez looks at Wyatt. We may have asked Jude to be our spokesperson but it only takes a moment in Wyatt’s presence to understand his authority.

“Wyatt Faraday.”

“Wyatt, then. We’re hearing rumors that go beyond basic military action down south. It could just be a myth—or a post-crisis urban legend—but the survivors that come into town often speak of men and women stronger than the infected—enhanced soldiers. Have you encountered anything like that?”

Wyatt pauses for the tiniest moment, I don’t know if Ms. Perez or the others notice but he answers truthfully. “Yes, I’ve encountered these men and women. We call them Hybrids.”

“And they’re dangerous?” Ethan asks. He’s leaning over the table. The woman next to him, an older woman with a full head of gray hair, has a deep, concerned line creasing her forehead.

“Extremely.”

We watch as the members of the council turn to one another and murmur in conversation. I’m worried he’s said too much and it will set them into a panic—but we’ll never get anywhere without the truth. I open my mouth to speak when Ms. Perez looks at Sophia who is standing by an interior door. “Please fetch the informant.”

Sophia nods and disappears behind the wooden door.

“We recently had a survivor come through intake. She was half-starved and ill—although free from the infection. Our health services put her in the infirmary on close watch. Her behavior was erratic and due to the fever—or at least what we thought was the fever—she had raving delusions about what was going on outside Winston-Salem and our immediate cleared areas. There was enough truth to what she said that we’ve kept her monitored for the last month while hoping for corroboration.” Ms. Perez sighs. “She used the term Hybrid—something no one else has used up to this point. Until now.”

The door opens and we all look at Sophia returning to the room. “She claims she has nothing new to say. You either believe her or just lock her back up. She doesn’t care.”

“I’m aware this has been a hard time for her,” Ms. Perez says. “Ask her to come in—I think she’ll be interested in our guests.”

Sophia pushes open the door and the entry is empty until I see a figure dressed in a basic, scrub-style uniform. I spot the braids next and smooth dark skin. A jagged scar slashes through her eyebrow. Her brown eyes flash in confusion and then recognition when she sees us. I reach for Wyatt’s hand.

Jude pushes Zoe to the side and races across the room, shocking the guard and the Council.

We’ve found Parker.

Chapter Sixteen

Parker shoves aside Sophia and flings her arms around Jude. He doesn’t miss a beat, squeezing her tight as she repeats over and over, “I thought I’d never find you again.”

He strokes the long braids that hang down her back. She closes her eyes and breaths him in. Taking a moment in the chaos to reconnect.

Tears prick at my eyes and Wyatt’s hand tightens in mine. There’s no doubt this world is crazy. It’s dark and lonely. We struggle and fight and alternately pray for it to all end and to live another day. But we also found something so good out here. And Parker is one of the good ones.

“I gather you know one another,” Ms. Perez says, gesturing for the guards to stand down.

“Yes,” I say going in for my own hug. She hasn’t let go of Jude’s hand for a second. “What did she do to get locked up?” I ask but the look of defiance on Parker’s face explains a lot. She must not have made it easy on anyone.

“And you two,” she looks at Mary Ellen and Jude. “Did you lie on your entry information? I’m assuming you’re not really married.”

“No, we’re not. My fiancé was killed not long ago.” Mary Ellen says. “It’s smarter to pose as a couple. For safety. Nothing more.”

Ms. Perez nods, although I’m sure she can’t understand what it’s like to be out there or come into a new community alone. I look at Parker, her hands are shaking and she’s thin as a rail. I’m not sure I understand, either.

Parker stops short when she realizes Zoe is standing with us. That she’s part of us. “What is she doing here?”

“Zoe’s okay, Parker. She’s helped us out.”

“Your funeral, you know that right?” She eyes the younger girl with a hard glare. Zoe holds her eye but her color pales. Parker rolls her eyes and says, “Her daddy is gonna find you and it won’t be pretty.”

She’s right. When Hamilton catches up to us, Zoe being with us will be a problem. One I hope we can leverage when the time comes.

“Are you okay?” I ask, wanting to get off the topic of the girl. “Where have you been? Walker said you disappeared from New Hope.”

Parker’s eyes narrow. “Is she here?”

“No, we, uh, left her a while back.”

Parker wipes her nose with her sleeve and tries to gain composure. “Yeah, I didn’t disappear. I left that crazy town when I realized what was going on.”

Ms. Perez clears her throat, bringing our attention back to the council who has been watching us with fascination. “As I said, Parker was sick when she arrived. Feverish and confused. The early versions of the stories she told us—about super soldiers and vaccines and genetic mutations sounded straight out of a horror novel.” She grimaces. “Of course nothing we’ve experienced over the last two years feels real.”

“They didn’t believe me,” Parker says. Jude grips her hand tighter.

“No, it’s not that,” Ethan says. “We just wanted to make sure you weren’t still sick or possibly unstable. It was a hard story to believe.”

I step forward and approach the table. “Everything Parker has told you is true. From the coast of Georgia to Ohio there’s been a battle raging on between humans, Eaters and a Hybrid mutation of the two. A vaccine does exist—as well as alterations to it that cause an even bigger danger.”

“A vaccine?” Ethan asks.

“Yes. My sister developed it. It’s real and it works.”

“Where is your sister now?” Ms. Perez asks.

“In New Hope working for Hamilton. He wants a clean vaccine—one that doesn’t lead to the mutations,” I say. “It’s the right thing to do but Hamilton has other ideas that are not in the best interest of our rebuilding society.”

Zoe steps forward. “I know my father wants to open trade with you but you should be wary. He’s a complicated person.”

“Your father is Colonel Hamilton?” Perez asks. Her forehead creases with concern. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“He’s dangerous,” Parker blurts. “It’s why I ran. I needed you to know before you made any arrangements with him. He has plans to restart the government—with himself as the leader.”

“Is that a terrible idea? It sounds like New Hope is doing very well. To make progress we’ll have to have strong leadership,” Ethan says. “It makes sense that he would take that position.”

“He has extreme ideas,” Wyatt says. “About purity and biology. He claims they are for the betterment of society but things aren’t the same as before.”

“You mean the Hybrids,” Ms. Perez says. “You said yourself that they’re dangerous. Are his concerns not valid?”

Wyatt clenches his jaw. “It’s not black and white—not anymore. The Hybrids are not the only mutation.”

“What are you talking about?” Ethan asks.

I step forward. “My sister is a brilliant scientist and as much as I hate to admit it, very dangerous.”

“You said she created a vaccine—something we desperately need.”

“She did create the vaccine and she willingly shares it with survivors. In the process of doing something good she also made something bad. She developed the mutation for the Hybrids. And additionally something we call a Mutt—which is a human/hybrid mixture.”

“A Mutt?” Perez looks like her brain may implode.

“The Mutts are good. Their brains and humanity intact. And without them we cannot take on the Hybrids. It’s the only way we defeated them before.”

“Hamilton wants to get rid of all the mutations?” she asks.

“Yes.” Again I move closer to the bench and do my best to keep my voice calm and level. “We have friends that sacrificed themselves to become Mutts. They fought side by side with us to defeat the Hybrid Army. But Hamilton…his views are a distraction. They could lead us down a path of even greater destruction, because if we kill the Mutts then we are at risk. The Hybrids will not stop until we’re all dead.”

The council chair frowns. “What are you saying? You want to keep some of the mutants alive?”

Wyatt rubs his neck. He doesn’t want to reveal what comes next. “It means we need them on our side. We need them to work for us and with us. To eradicate the Eaters and Hybrids and rebuild society. But if you let Hamilton in here he’ll manipulate things the wrong way. We’ll be fighting a war—his war—not making progress.”

She looks at Zoe. “Is this true?”

“My father is very convincing and very committed to his ideas. Increasingly, I am aware that his beliefs are not the best thing for society as a whole.”

“He’ll take out anyone that gets in his way,” Parker says. “Anyone.”

“Are you sure about that?” Ethan asks. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Because if we’re under threat of genetically modified soldiers it sounds like Hamilton may not be a bad person to have on our side.”

“I’ve learned the hard way that even when I’ve been desperate it’s not a good idea to make a deal with the devil.” I study each person on the council. “It’s hard to know who to trust out here and you don’t know us at all but we’re the real deal. We know what we’re talking about.”

“I’ll admit, Ms. Ramsey, it’s a hard story to digest. We’ll take your plea into consideration but Colonel Hamilton is scheduled to arrive in the next few weeks. We owe him an audience.”

“Wait. There’s one more thing,” I say, feeling the truth bubble in my chest. I look at my friends and I’m met with universal approval. Everyone except Wyatt who stares at the ground in silence. “We’re wanted by Hamilton. We abandoned our positions as bounty hunters. He’s probably also under the impression we kidnapped his daughter.”

“Which is not true,” Zoe says. “For the record.”

“So if you’re here, we’re harboring fugitives.”

“Not only that but in the course of the Hybrid wars, many sacrifices were made. Several of us--” I don’t name names, “--took a booster shot that gave us enhanced abilities. It was temporary and frankly, the only thing that kept us alive.”

Parker gasps and the rest of the room falls into instant chatter. The guards at both doors reach for their weapons. Ms. Perez stands and says, “You’ve just told us how dangerous the Hybrids are and now you admit to being one?”

“No.” I hold my hands up. Ethan moves the knife from the leg strap. Wyatt is a heartbeat behind me, daring anyone to make a move. “No. This is what we’re trying to tell you. The E-TR virus changed us—changed the fabric of humanity. It changed everyone and to survive we have had to take risks. We weren’t lucky enough to live behind the walls of a safe city. I lived forty miles away and had no idea this place existed. Instead, I went through hell and back to fight for humans. In the end I had to make a difficult choice. One that threatened to tear me away from those closest to me, but one that also was the right thing to do.”

“What do you want from us, Ms. Ramsey?” Perez asks.

“We want you to help us fight for the future, the kind with a real leader and not some deranged sociopath that managed to survive The Crisis with twisted logic and sketchy ideas.” I glance at Zoe. “No offense.”

She shrugs.

“We’ll take your concerns into consideration,” Ms. Perez says. “I don’t think anyone on the Council feels comfortable making a decision until we have more facts and an opportunity to talk to Hamilton directly. The idea of using the Mutts as protection may be a good one, but there would have to be limitations. Segregation from the rest of the community.”

“What?” Jude says. I glance back and see his upset expression. “No. That’s not okay. They’re still people.”

“Are the Eaters not still people underneath?”

“It’s not the same thing,” Parker says.

“How do we know that?” Perez asks.

“If you spent any time out there you’d know the difference.”

Perez shakes her head. “I think we’re through here. Since you’re admitted fugitives and we’re under a complicated alliance with New Hope we need you to stay here until Hamilton arrives. I appreciate your information and honesty and I see no reason to place you in the prison cells. You’re welcome to return to the hotel under guard and supervision while we consider everything that transpired today.”

“That’s all? You’ll consider it?” I ask. Wyatt tugs on the back of my shirt and I reluctantly quiet. “Thank you.”

“What about Parker?” Jude asks.

“She can go with you.” She looks down at our friend. “I apologize for keeping you in isolation. We have to take precautions.”

“Don’t waste this opportunity,” I say to the council as Sophia ushers us out the door. “It seems like you’ve got an amazing town. It’s exactly the kind of place people love to destroy.”

Chapter Seventeen

We arrive back at the hotel and Wyatt takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. His face is grim, jaw tight and set, eyes boring into mine.

“That was very—”

“Stupid? I know, I’m sorry, I’m just tired of lying and being on guard and I just want—”

“Brave.” He steps close and takes my hands in his. “You’re so brave. I’m envious of your strength.”

I snort and run my hands up his arms. His biceps are rock hard. “Me? I don’t think so.”

“I’m not talking physical strength, not exactly. I’m talking about how you fight for us over and over.” The way he looks at me rocks me to the core and I’m terrified for some reason. “You’re the girl who kicks ass. The one that hits back. The one, when the time calls for it, shoots without hesitation. In the end Alexandra, you’ll be the one that saves us all.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Good thing you’re not doing it alone.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him in for a hug. He’s not going to like what I’m about to say next, but asking after that speech may work in my favor.

“There’s something I need to do.”

“What?”

I take a deep breath. “I need to go home.”

*

We pack up and tell the others.

“You’re breaking out?” Jude asks. Parker sits close to him on the couch. Mary Ellen is on her other side.

“Breaking out sounds so…illegal. Who are these people to hold us prisoner?” I don’t add that I have a nagging feeling in my stomach that struck me the minute we went over the mountains. “It’s just something I need to do, you know? We’re so close to my hometown. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of days.”

“What do we tell the Council?”

“Tell them the truth. That I got antsy and left. Wyatt came with me.” I spot the frown on Zoe’s face. “Seriously. We’re coming back. Don’t even think of following us, okay?”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Jude declares this like he has to say it.

I make eye contact with Parker and inch my head toward the bedroom. She follows me in.

With the door shut, I give her another hug. This time I let the tears fall and I push them away with my hand.

“Not gonna lie, girl. I wasn’t sure we’d see you again.”

“Tell me about it. Do you really have to leave?” she asks.

“I think so. It’s important and it’s something Wyatt and I can do alone. We’ll be back soon. I promise.”

“Hamilton’s a bad man,” Parker says. She wipes her own, surprising, tears from her cheeks. “When we left you guys at the farmhouse I was worried we’d meet the Hybrids. We ran across that guy Avi on the road, Jane’s friend, and he told us they were coming. We changed directions, going away from Fort Knox.  That’s how we ended up in New Hope.”

“What made you so nervous?”

“Walker and Davis shifted on a dime. They drank the Kool-Aid big time. They wanted the safety and security of New Hope and frankly, I think they were so scared and tired of the Hybrids that they were willing to buy into his elimination plan. But I worked with Paul for a long time and I heard the story about Cole saving your life. I knew the difference between a Mutt and a Hybrid. They didn’t care.”

“Not even Davis?” He’d traveled the same path as Parker.

“I just think he was ready to be part of something bigger and more secure. He’s a military man through-and-through.”

“I have to admit it’s tempting,” I say.

“When I heard about Hamilton’s long-term plans, the bounty hunters and purge, I knew I couldn’t stay. It sounded too familiar.”

“Like Jane’s original plans.” I shake my head. “Eradicating the world from terrorists and then the creation of super soldiers.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

That nagging feeling in my chest comes back and I know it’s time for me and Wyatt to leave.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

She grimaces. “Well, it looks like you’ve needed me around. You guys got into all kinds of trouble while I was gone. Imprisonment, injections, epic end-of-times battles.”

“Hey! I killed Chloe!”

“After pumping yourself with one of Jane’s cocktails.”

I shake my head. “It was the only way.”

“Do you really think it will fully wear off?” she asks.

“It seems to kick in here and there. Mostly when we need it,” I explain. The tremors in my hands feel less frequent though. “There’s something else I need to tell you before we go.”

“What’s that?”

I sigh and sit on the bed. “It’s about Mary Ellen.”

It doesn’t take long to explain the situation. Parker’s face quickly sets into one of concern and horror. Pregnancy is no joke in the apocalypse.

“She wants to keep that baby.”

“Well then she’s going to need a safe place to stay,” Parker says, running her hands over her thighs. “Like this one.”

“Yes, we need to do everything we can to protect Winston-Salem and keep it an actual Safe City.”

She nods. “We’ll keep an eye on her while you’re gone.”

“Zoe, too?”

“Oh, I’m definitely keeping an eye on her.”

I laugh. “Don’t trust her?”

“Not an inch.”

“I think she’s okay, but we’ve been betrayed before.” And that sums most of my life up. It’s hard to let in new people and settle in a new place. It’s only a matter of time before true intentions reveal themselves or someone comes knocking on the door. Someone without my best interest.

I stand and give Parker one last hug. “We’ll be back. I promise.”

She squeezes my neck. “You better be.”

There’s a knock on the door and Wyatt opens it slowly. “We need to go.”

I nod and grab my bag.

Chapter Eighteen

Leaving the city isn’t exactly easy, but the guards aren’t really used to people like me and Wyatt. The government did a good job of fortifying the walls—much better than anywhere else I’ve been, excluding New Hope. Ironically our time there is what gives Wyatt the idea.

“We need to wait until they come in and out.”

“The front gate?” I ask. We managed to get out of the room and down the stairwell with a slight distraction from our friends. I get the distinct idea that people inside generally don’t try to leave. They’re mostly trying to keep people out.

“No. There are specific entries and exits for the military. They don’t want the townspeople to get nervous.” We’re two blocks away, pressed in the shadows of a brick building.

“There are literally soldiers on every corner.” We’d slipped past a few.

“Those are just low-level peace officers.”

“And how do you know all of this?” His eyes flash in the dark before he leans out to check the street. He waves me to follow and we run down the alley. We don’t stop until we come to a garage two blocks away. I grab him by the shirt. “Seriously, Wyatt, how do you know this?”

“Let’s just say I still have a few contacts.”

I stare at him, dumbfounded. We’re hundreds of miles away from where we started. Both armies we were involved with are decimated and gone. Our friends are split and every day I learn something new about this crazy God-forsaken world, and Wyatt still has contacts. I place my hands on my hips. “Who?”

He lifts my hand and presses a quick kiss on my palm. “Can’t tell you that, babe. But come on, I think we’re about to get our chance.”

“Did you just call me ‘babe’?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that not a thing?”

“Not one of our things.”

“Gotcha.”

He turns on a dime and doesn’t even wait for me to make his move. I learned a long time ago to trust this man with my life. I shouldn’t be surprised he’s still three steps ahead of me.

His plan goes without a hitch, the gate opening just as we arrive. Two things make this whole situation easier than what we’re accustomed to. One is that they aren’t used to the battles, warfare, and the level of general survival that we are. The second is that we’re up against regular humans. Not the super soldiers we’re used to. They don’t hear the smallest footfall or our heartbeats. On the other hand, adrenaline makes my senses tick up a notch, and I’m well aware we need to let twelve guards go past us before we make our move. I tug Wyatt back at number ten. Two are lagging behind and we wait for them to pass before we slip through the gate.

“You’re not the only one with tricks up their sleeves,” I tell him.

“Oh, I never doubted that,” he replies, unflappable.

We don’t speak for a long time, instead using the dark in our favor. I can still see a little better than usual but I think the effects are fading. The idea worries me. I never planned on staying like this forever but having some extra mojo certainly is nice.

Wyatt ensured we exit on the southwest side of the city, moving in the direction of Raleigh. The ground crunches under our feet and the smell of soot and ash are thick in the air. The shells of buildings line the streets. “Looks like a pretty bad fire,” I say.

“Yeah,” he points down a long clear road. The fence line is visible from here, even in the dark. It veers sharply to the north. “I think this used to be part of the city.”

“A massive fire? Yeah, that’s the kind of thing that can cause setbacks.” I step over shattered glass. “I mean, in a lot of ways the city has made great strides in the two years after the fall. The government didn’t totally screw up. But they also seem like babies just learning to walk.”

“The whole place could be wiped out quickly. Then they’d have to start all over again.” He skirts between two charred cars. “The energy to do it again? That would be a challenge.”

It takes a while to get to the end of the burned-out area and when we do, I look back and see the metal fence glinting off the sunrise.

“Do you think they have any idea what’s coming?”

Wyatt brushes my hand with his. “Not a clue.”

*

The first night out, Wyatt finds a skinny horse grazing deep in a pasture while I sleep in a musty hayloft. I don’t ask how long it took to catch him, but he’s bruised and sweaty when he comes back with a rope lassoed around the horse’s neck. There’s a bridle and reins hung on the downstairs wall, and after a bit of a fight we manage to get it on. We’re just outside of Greensboro, which is too big to enter safely. We take side roads instead, avoiding the main highways as they’re too clogged with abandoned vehicles. It’s obvious from the stench and packs of Eaters that the cleanup crews haven’t come this far. People must not come through town often. They’re either in the Safe City, holed up somewhere, or dead.

“How many people do you think are left?” I ask. The horse plods along and he’s stubborn as hell, giving Wyatt a fight if he loosens the reins. “Like, total.”

“I don’t know but I think the parasite got a lot of people.” He wraps the leather strap around his wrist. “I saw it in action. It moved quickly. Your father was smart to keep you and your mom isolated for those first few weeks.”

“My friends didn’t make it,” I tell him. I’ve never mentioned it to anyone before. Not even Cole. “I went to see if they could come with me and my mom, but they were sick when I got there.”

His free hand rubs along my thigh. I’m pressed tight against him. “I’d say there was nothing you could do, but you did it. You got the data to your father and sister. You’ve made a difference in all this.”

“Was it the right one? Why not just let the parasite fade out, let the Eaters rot and decay? Creating those Hybrids was a terrible thing to unleash on the world. Maybe worse than the Eaters themselves.”

The area we’re in is called the Piedmont Triad. Three academic cities linked together. It’s probably less rural than most of the country we’ve seen lately. Fast food restaurants pop up and down the road. Neighborhoods old and new. The farmland is less frequent although when we do find some, tobacco grows wild, withered and unharvested.

I’d never traveled much before the Crisis and one thing I’m struck by now is the familiar landscape. The stretches of road and pine trees. The architecture tugs at my memories, the plants and the occasional regional chain restaurant I haven’t seen since we left.

It feels like home, and that brings a flood of emotions I haven’t prepared for.

We approach another small intersection; gas station and pizza shop on one corner, a tanning salon on the other. White bones are strapped to the front door of the salon and I can’t stop looking and trying to hear something—someone. It’s too quiet around here. I feel the eyes but I don’t see any people, human or otherwise.  I clench my arms around Wyatt’s waist and say, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

I’m sick and tired of the Death Fields.

*

We reach the edge of Raleigh, taking the same path that my mom, Paul, and I took when we left. I see the charred remains of the school bus—the one Paul wasn’t on, but where we thought he’d died. That was the beginning of his long journey as a test subject and eventual Mutt. I avert my eyes from the black smudges I know are bodies, away from the river where the infected drowned, shot on the spot by snipers Erwin placed on the rooftop. I didn’t know then that he was fighting my sister and her unholy plans. I just ran for my life, unaware that two men would follow me out of the city—both intent to keep me safe.

I rest my head on Wyatt’s back, wondering where he was when I traveled through here. He didn’t catch up with us for a bit further down the road. As much as I do remember, other things have faded. The sound of my mother’s voice. The exact way she looked before this all started. For months I couldn’t keep the image of her bitten and dying out of my brain. Now, I’d probably sacrifice the sleep to get it back.

“Can you check the map?” Wyatt asks. He doesn’t know how this place tugs at me. I nod, unsure if I can breathe, much less speak.

Without really looking I point ahead. “Turn right.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

As we get closer to the side of town I grew up in, near the university, the more things trigger memories. Not just of the escape but my life before. The more familiar it seems, the further away I feel from it. I’m not that girl who went to the Taco Hut after final exams or the girl poised to read her valedictorian speech to her senior class. We pass neighborhoods where friends lived, and my old elementary school, all looking like a poster for a horror movie. The roads are blocked, houses in decay. Cars rot and rust in driveways. We pass the occasional abandoned military vehicle with vines and wildlife creeping over the wheels. I feel a pang when I spot my old bus stop and eventually the sign leading into my neighborhood.

Not once in our journey here did we pass a human, dead or alive.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I say quietly. Wyatt had stopped the horse and is waiting for directions.

“Go back?” His eyes hold mine. It’s afternoon. It’s cold. We’re both exhausted with painful backsides from riding this horse for two days.  “We don’t have to. We can stop somewhere else. Anywhere. You name it.”

“No, we can’t. We came here for a reason. I can’t let a little sentimentality stop us.”

“I can go in without you.”

The thought of Wyatt in my childhood home without me makes it hurt even more. I think that’s part of my apprehension, letting him see that side of my life. The ‘before’ Alexandra.

“I’m being stupid.”

“No, you’re not, but this street corner is making me nervous. I know it seems quiet around here but it’s unlikely everyone is gone, don’t you think?”

My street had been mostly evacuated by the time my mother and I left, but I agree. He’s not talking about survivors.

“Okay, it’s the third house at the end of the street. Black shutters.”

Wyatt takes the horse all the way up to the house. I’m not particularly surprised it’s left untouched. Further evidence there’s less people left around than we’d like to admit. He dismounts and helps me down, two hands on my hips. My thighs ache and my butt feels bruised from the ride. I can tell he feels the same from the way he grimaces when he walks toward the backyard. “There’s a detached carport in the back. We can block the horse in with some of the stuff out there.”

It’s surprising how quickly it comes back. The tools and equipment that made our lives so easy back then. The hammer I gave my dad for Father’s Day. A wheelbarrow and several heavy cardboard boxes. We tie the horse up to the metal workbench and step into the yard.

“So this is it?” he asks. “Home of the infamous Ramsey sisters.”

“This is where it all started.” I point to a window. “Jane probably spent hours coming up with her diabolical plans up there.”

“And you?”

I point to the opposite room. A tiny bathroom connected the two. “I spent way too long coming up with ways to beat her up there. Grades, approval…that kind of stuff.”

“And in the end it didn’t matter.”

“No,” I say softly. “It didn’t. We had to go through all of this to realize we work better together than against one another. Tough price for civilization to pay.”

“You ready to go inside?”

“I’m ready.”

I fish the spare key out from the empty bird feeder and push it in the lock. Wyatt grabs me before I turn the knob. “I love you, Alexandra Ramsey. Never forget that.”

“I love you, too.”

Chapter Nineteen

The house carries the chill of abandonment. Unlike every other building I’ve rummaged through, slept in, and used for shelter over the last two years, beneath the thin layer of dust lay memories as well as useless objects from another life. My life.

I point to a basket next to the TV. A comfortable blanket folded neatly on top. “My mother hid her gossip magazines in there. People, Us Weekly…all the trashy tabloids she knew better than to believe.” I walk over and reveal them. Pristine and untouched. “My dad thought they were ridiculous. I mean, they were, but it was just her guilty pleasure.”

I walk through the kitchen and see the note on the refrigerator. We left it for my father—hoping he’d catch up to us at any minute. I pick it up and study it, reliving those last moments in the house.

“There’s not any food in here. We either ate it or took it with us.”

“I’m not hungry.”

I glance down the hall. “My father’s office is down the hall.”

Wyatt follows me quietly, clicking on his flashlight, which doubles as a lantern. The white glaring beam leads the way. The office door is shut and I take a deep, dusty breath before I open it.

The hinges creak and Wyatt holds the light over my head, splaying it across the room. The shades are drawn and my mother and I moved a large shelf over the window early in the early days of the quarantine.

Everything is in place. His chair and the framed certificates on the walls. The picture of him and my mother at some conference in Texas.

“Can I have that?” I ask, reaching for the light.

He hands it over without a word, silently taking in the room. I walk around the desk and pull out the heavy, padded, leather chair. It rolls easily on the hardwoods and I tug at the lower right drawer.

“Locked?” he asks, looking away at a photo of me and my sister when we were in preschool.

“Yeah, but…” I open the middle drawer and feel around under the bottom of the desk. My fingers catch on a strip of tape and I pry the metal out of the drawer. “He left a key.”

I open the drawer and reveal a long row of files. I pull out half with both hands and pass them over. Wyatt takes them and says, “What am I looking for?”

I lift out the other half and place them on the desk.

“When Jane created the original virus, E-TR, she was working around the bureaucracy of the official government. She was tired of the red tape and wanted to do something to fight the growing fanaticism around the world. She saw ISIS coming long before the rest of us were paying attention and she used Avi’s laboratory at PharmaCorp to make it happen.”

“Right—except we know Avi was almost a pacifist. He was adamantly opposed to biological warfare.”

“Which means someone else backed her project.” I look up at Wyatt. “Do you know who hired and paid for your mission? The one to find me?”

“I worked through PharmaCorp, you know that.”

“But who really paid for it? Because we both know Avi didn’t.”

He frowns. “There’s no way your father paid for it. He was involved in stopping the spread of the virus. Not developing it.”

“There are two things I know about my father.” I pulled open two more drawers and showed Wyatt the contents. Then the closet and another file cabinet disguised as a bookshelf. “He kept papers about everything. Compulsively.”

“So he was a pack-rat.”

“He was tracking this thing from the beginning. Maybe even before the beginning. If there’s a connection between an outside source and Jane, he’ll have it.”

He sighs and sits at the chair across from the desk, files piled in his lap. “And you want that connection.”

“I don’t want it. We need it.”

“Why?”

“Because I have a hunch it’s going to lead back to Hamilton and that’s how we’re going to convince Perez to fight back.”

*

Truth be told, I think my father may have been more than a pack rat. The term hoarder comes to mind—particularly with papers. Anything he found useful, newspaper clippings, articles, torn out scientific journal entries that caught his eye was squirreled away, yellowing and fading in one of his cabinets. Whatever we’re looking for is a needle in a paper haystack, but just before dawn my bleary eyes stumble across a thick envelope marked ‘Grant Proposals’ in my father’s scratchy script.

“I may have found something.”

Wyatt drops the stack of files on the seat next to him and walks around the desk. He rubs his eyes, red from dust, and leans over my shoulder. Together, we flip through the sheath of papers.

The file is full of grant proposals, requests and receipts, all stamped with the seal of HSA—Homeland Security. Each a correspondence between a private company, PharmaCorp, and a particular office within HSA—research and development. Hamilton’s signature is scrawled at the bottom of each page. He’d been appointed by the President.

The first contacts were between Hamilton and Avi, starting years before. They’re not about the E-TR virus or anything pharmaceutical-related either. It seems that Hamilton was in charge of the early concept of developing Safe Cities and Avi’s building and its top-of-the-line survivalist features were of interest to the government. They wanted his expertise on how to make sustainable cities in case of a regional emergency.

Avi shared his knowledge—agreeing to a multi-million dollar consultation fee. In the files there are blueprints of Cincinnati, Winston-Salem, Bangor, and Birmingham. Unspecified money was given to HSA to start the construction. These projects were never announced publicly—only the highest state officials aware of their existence—and even then, it seemed like a distant worry.

“It seems normal until Hamilton’s needs changed,” Wyatt comments, pointing to a printed email exchange. Hamilton expressed ideas about the possibility of using parasites to make our enemies sick long enough to allow soldiers in and out of a combat zone safely. By this time my sister was a rising star at Emory University. Avi and Hamilton plucked her out of academia and into biological warfare research.  That’s when Hamilton asked for the experiments to move to test subjects. Human subjects.

“I can see why Avi balked,” I say, scanning the remainder of the page. “It was too risky, not to mention violating a dozen codes and regulations.”

“That Hamilton was willing to ignore.”

“So then I guess this is where Jane came in,” Wyatt says, flipping to the next page. The paperwork continues but it’s no longer on official letterhead. They seem to be a series of handwritten notes between my sister and Hamilton as they continue the research. But it’s not just science talk—it’s something more—a philosophy.

I move the paper closer to the flashlight on the desk.

“The plans and completion of the early stages of the Safe Cities made me realize that although we’re prepared for the effect—we’re not really addressing the cause. The government is required to go through so many channels. A ridiculous amount of red tape. We’re seeing the change happen right now—the fabric of society is being altered as we speak by radicals and religious idealization. Women and children are enslaved in the name of God, while boys are led to the slaughters of war.

These battles have already reached our shores, but what is happening, just out of our line of vision, has the ability to rewrite history. And although technically my hands are tied, I’m unwilling to sit by and let that happen. There’s an answer—a way to keep our Safe Cities from ever being used. We just need to get to the warzone before our enemies gain ground. We need to eliminate the threat. We need to maintain the purity of our nation by striking first.”

I hand the paper over to Wyatt and move away from the desk. My nose itches from the dust and I have a headache. Running my hands over my face I say, “So he was the one that got her the funding to create the E-TR virus and send you and the others to spread it.”

“Looks like it.” He shuffles through a few more papers before setting them on the desk, but one. “Listen to this one, it’s dated from March—right when the Crisis began gaining speed.”

“I understand your concerns about the spread of the E-TR virus. We both knew it was a possibility. A chance we were willing to take. I think you called it “Collateral Damage,” and it’s not as though we’re unprepared. Within ten days the Safe Cities will begin lockdown protocol. The citizens in those areas will become our highest priority. Just as your facility and the staff you have acquired. Granted, it’s happened much faster than I expected but maybe that’s not a bad thing. The weak shall be culled. Yes, we will lose many good people along with the bad, but in the end the cream will rise to the top. Once the population declines we will be able to weed out the unfavorable. We can start fresh. We will be safe, our families will have protection and that is the most important thing.

Dr. Ramsey, I have no doubt that even with all of our precautions several of the Safe Cities will struggle in the aftermath of the virus. This is where you and I will step in and continue our shared vision of the future…”

“Okay I’m done,” Wyatt says with a scowl on his mouth. He drops the paper on the desk.

“Here’s the thing,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “I thought my sister was crazy, but Hamilton is a whole other level.”

“He knew Winston-Salem and Birmingham would have problems. He probably sabotaged them to give himself the upper hand.”

I think of the charred remains we walked through on our way out of town. It could have been natural—we’ve seen many fires along the way but then again, they should have been prepared.

“Do you think he assumes Jane is still on his side?”

“I hope so. She said she would make sure she remained useful to him.” I recall our last conversation before we left New Hope. “I knew she was hiding something. I just had no idea what.”

We blink at one another and I try to process everything. Being in my house, finding more secrets about my sister, the never-ending deceit that started the apocalypse. I’m tired but I say, “We need to get back and warn them. The Hybrids were probably an unexpected road block—one he planned on using us to clean up. But he can’t be far behind.”

“We’ll go, but not until after we fuel up and rest. It’s a long ride back.”

“Four hours.”

“Each.” He holds my eye. “Four for you. Four for me.”

I sigh but nod. I’m conflicted anyway. Once I leave the house this time I know it really will be for good.

“You sleep first and I’ll check on the horse and do a perimeter check.” When I hesitate to move, he stops. “You okay?”

“It’s just a lot to take in.”

He brushes my cheek with his fingers and kisses me soft on the lips. “Rest. I’ll be back in soon.”

He leaves and I’m well aware that although he’s just doing the same thing we do every time we rest on the road, he’s also giving me space. I walk out of the office and climb the stairs to the second floor. The house feels colder up here but there’s carpet on the floor and the doors to all the rooms are open. My parents’ empty room is to the left of the stairway. To the right? My room. I feel a sense of contentment walking back through the door.

My computer sits on my desk, keyboard and screen coated in dust. My quilt, the one my aunt made and I stole out of my mother’s closet so many times that she finally gave it to me, stretches wide over the bed. Several posters I had up on the wall have fallen and are rolled up against the wall. I spot a picture of me and Liza at eighth grade graduation tucked into the corner of my mirror. We’re wearing dresses with glitter woven in the fabric and have silly smiles on our faces. I pick the photo up and stare at it. The sun was shining and no one carried a gun. We were both alive.

I hear a creak on the floorboard, the one right outside my door. The one that my mom could hear late at night if I left my room. I glance in the mirror and see Wyatt, who is large and out of place against the splash of aqua blue walls.

I hold up the picture. “Sometimes I’m jealous that she didn’t have to go through all of this.” I push it back where I found it. A relic of another life. I definitely don’t feel like that girl anymore. “Everything okay outside?”

“All quiet,” he says. “Areas like this—the ones that cleared out early either because people died or they evacuated--are fairly safe. We just don’t pass through them much because they’re so far off the main roads.”

“Maybe this is what they meant by a quiet suburban life. We just needed the apocalypse to make it happen.”

“Seems like that was Hamilton’s plan.”

He’s moved closer and my butt hits the top of my dresser, toppling a few knickknacks on the surface. I hook my finger in his waistband. “You don’t think you need to stay on watch?”

His hand moves to my hip. “I’d really rather be up here with you.”

Wyatt isn’t one to be reckless—at least with our safety—so when he leans in and kisses me with intensity, I know we’ve found a tiny slice of solitude.

We fall into one another and he lifts me off my feet, carrying me over to the twin bed. I have a fleeting moment of panic. This bed? My childhood bed? But it feels right, more than right, when he lowers me gently and kisses me all over my face and neck.

I love the feel of his weight on top of me, something real and tangible. I love his humanity and the way he loses himself in stolen moments like this one. His back is hard muscle, despite the hard days on the road. He worships me like a prized possession, which in this world, in the end? It feels good to be loved and to love.

My heart hammers in my chest and warmth spreads down my arms and legs. The adrenaline kicks in and suddenly his hands and mouth take on an entirely new sensation. His fingers burn a trail of fire down my skin.

I laugh and he stops, a frown creasing the edges of his mouth.

“What?”

“Just discovered another benefit of the EVI-3.”

The frown evaporates, transforming into a wicked grin. He flips me over and I squeal with newfound delight.

*

Later, wrapped under my aunt’s quilt, he tightens his arms around me. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?” With Wyatt it could be anything.

“After this fight we need to get out of this. Settle down.” His fingers ghost over the wedding ring he gave me days ago. I never took it off. “Get our happily ever after.”

I glance over my shoulder, looking for the hint of a smirk or a raised eyebrow. I find nothing but earnestness. “You think we can get a happily ever after?”

He kisses my forehead. “I said, our happily ever after. The kind that suits us. Suits this world.”

I rest my head back on the pillow and feel him burrow his face in my neck. It’s a lovely thought. A fantastic one, but I’ve gotten through the last two years one day at a time. Thinking about the future is asking for trouble. But then again…

“Talk to me about it again—after this thing with Hamilton is settled.”

“Deal.”

I drift into sleep, waking only when I feel Wyatt leave the bed. He quietly dresses and grabs his boots. I don’t get up until he’s gone, needing just one more quiet moment alone before we go.

I dig through my drawers, finding a couple of T-shirts I left behind. I find two pairs of jeans. One pair was too small before but now it’s a little big. I slip those on, doubling the shirts and pulling on three pairs of socks. It’s cold outside and I never regret having enough layers.

I take one last look and step in the hallway. A noise drifts up the stairs. I move to the landing. I hear a voice and the door shut. Grabbing my hatchet I rush quietly down the stairs. Wyatt’s pack is on the table. One of his guns is sticking out of the pocket.

He never leaves without his pack.

He definitely never leaves without his guns.

I creep to the door and curse when I remember we covered the window with plywood. Carefully I twist the knob, hearing the familiar creak of the hinge. I peer through the doorway, hatchet gripped tightly in my hand.

Wyatt stands on the porch. Hands shoved in his pockets, head tipped back in laughter. The sound of his voice shatters the quiet and I fling open the door, startling him and the other man.

I stare at the man—my friend—the one built like a tank, wrapped in a bear, topped off with the Incredible Hulk. He smiles at me and any anger I have from being frightened disappears.

“Hey girl,” he says and I almost trip pushing past Wyatt to give him a hug.

“You’ve been following us?” I ask Davis, his arms wrap around me like a vice.

“Since you left Catlettsburg.”

I look at Wyatt. “And you knew?”

He shrugs.

Of course. He told me he still had sources. I sigh and wave them both inside. As much as I want to be mad and possibly smack them both in the head, I can’t, because things just got a lot more interesting.

Chapter Twenty

“I was already plotting my escape when Hamilton told me to go chase after the Hybrids. I would have left with Parker but she didn’t give me the chance.” Davis shifts in his saddle and Wyatt urges our horse to keep up. We’re on the edge of Raleigh, taking a different and hopefully faster route out of the city. “Walker and Jackson—they were sold the second we walked into New Hope. I could see the glint in Walker’s eyes. She’d found her new home. It had all the structure, discipline and the touch of authoritarian madness that she seems to crave.”

“And Jackson? Did he do it just because of her?” I ask.

“Maybe a little, but you have to remember Jackson was one of your sister’s personal Fighters at PharmaCorp. It’s likely he thrives in the same conditions. Some soldiers thrive in situations like that.” He glances at Wyatt. “Others, not so much.”

“So you ran,” I say. “Then what? You found us in Catlettsburg?”

“I figured it was a good place to start. The Hybrids and Mutts scattered like the wind. Hamilton had no idea what he was doing or what he was up against but he’s too stubborn and egotistical to admit it.”

I nod. “That sounds like our assessment.”

“When I got to Catlettsburg I found Paul and Cole.” His jaw tightens. “I hadn’t seen that bastard in months. Not since we left Georgia and when I heard what he did to you…”

“What Chloe did to me.” I correct him. “Cole was nothing more than a pawn in this game.”

“He made his choices Alex.”

“To fight his sister.” I’m not hashing this out with Davis. I know how I feel. Wyatt does too which is why he’s silent in front of me. “Did you hurt him?”

“I wanted to. But we need as many able-bodied men as possible and Paul assured me he would fight.” He gives me a wary glance. “He’s also still scary as hell.”

Wyatt and I both laugh because Cole is beyond dangerous, but I do think he’s trying.

“Speaking of,” Wyatt asks. “Where are we meeting him?”

“At the off ramp to Burlington. Hopefully he won’t be alone.”

Paul, Cole, and Davis holed up in Catlettsburg while we were being processed in New Hope. They knew they had a split second before the dust settled and Hamilton would send us out to catch them. They worked out a plan; Davis would track us, Cole would go on the search for Mutts, and Paul would head west.

“West? Alone?” I asked. We were sitting at the table in my kitchen. The idea of Paul headed through the Hybrid-infested Death Fields alone doesn’t sit well with me.

“He’s going to check on Birmingham. See what’s happening there. Hamilton mentioned both cities down south, but Winston-Salem seemed a priority.”

“Wait. Were you there when we were ambushed by the Hybrids in the mountains?”

“I was tailing Paul and Cole. Oh and that girl they picked up.”

“So you watched that whole fight and didn’t think of helping?” I asked, thinking about how another set of hands would’ve been useful.

“You guys had it under control.”

I glared at Wyatt. “And when did you find out?”

“Shortly after that. I found him creeping around the house one night while I was on watch. I nearly shot him in the face.” The two men smiled at one another like that was hilarious.

Davis waited outside the gates of Winston-Salem until we were on the move again. He tracked us like a shadow and when I asked why he didn’t reveal himself sooner he shrugged and said he knew we needed some time alone.

We no longer work on specific dates—not out here. The cities keep time and have current calendars but on the road things begin to blur. Davis is convinced though that we’re right on target for meeting back with Cole.

“Do you think he found them?” Wyatt asks as the horses walk down the road. It’s been a peaceful day—unseasonably warm.  A pair of hawks soar overhead.

“I’m sure he found some. If they’re willing to cooperate—that’s the bigger question.” Davis tilts his head down the road and at the top of the exit ramp, two figures stand watch. “Think that’s the welcome wagon?”

Our horse twitches, spooked by a sound from behind. I look back and spot a handful of men and women, all dressed for battle, trailing us. Their uniforms are ragged, but familiar.

“Wyatt,” I say, tugging on his back. He turns and grimaces.

Davis gets our attention. Down the exit ramp, two people have turned into a dozen more. “Shit,” he mutters.

“Something tells me those aren’t the good guys,” Wyatt says with regret.

“Maybe it’s just the Mutts,” I say, hopefully, but my senses tell me otherwise and I pull the gun from my holster, checking it for bullets.

“Head left?” Davis says. Wyatt nods and he twists the reins in his hands to force the horse into the forest lining the highway. Cooperating for once, probably in fear for his life, the horse sprints ahead and the hooves of both animals turn into thunder. The people on the road, both ahead and behind, shout and set off after us. I wrap my arm tight around Wyatt’s waist, trying not to fall off.

We’re close and a flock of birds bursts from the treetops at the very moment figures emerge from the forest. A row of them, wobbly on their feet, brains burning with infection.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Wyatt sounds like a man inconvenienced.

“Push through,” Davis shouts, because that’s what this has come to. Who is the least dangerous? Right now it’s the Eaters.

We charge forward. Wyatt uses all his strength to hold on and direct the horses, who lurch and jump with fear. Davis removes the blade slung across his back, pulling it out to slice the throat of the Eaters blocking our escape. I lean over the edge of the horse do the same with my hatchet, chopping at hands and necks, listening to the painful wail of the infected.

“I’m so sick of this,” I shout, kicking a woman with long, graying hair in the head. Her frail neck snaps. “If it’s not one, it’s the other. Or, you know, on an extra special day, it’s both.”

We take them down easily, their feet getting caught in the muddy earth. As time passes the infected begin to decay and although still deadly, with the vaccine and their slowing movements, they’re little more than a nuisance. The biggest danger is because they hold us up more than anything else and when we have a bunch of Hybrids on our tail—it makes them deadly.

“We need to push through,” Davis says once we’ve disposed of the final Eater, his skull cracked and then trampled by a hoof. Both horses move deeper into the woods but sound of the approaching soldier’s shifts, moving farther away from us. Sudden gunfire explodes and I clench Wyatt by the waist, turning to get a better look.

A battle rages, but not toward us.

“Hey,” I say, getting him to slow. I feel something in the air. Sense it. “Something’s going on.”

“Not anything we need to be a part of,” he declares.

“No, wait. Get to that clearing.” I point to a break in the trees. The sunlight shines down and I can see the twist of the highway behind it.

Davis and Wyatt exchange glances, but I grab the reins out of Wyatt’s hands and dig my heels into the horse’s side. He darts forward quickly, on edge from the Eaters and gunfire. We emerge in the space in the trees and down below we have a better view of the fight. Black-masked Fighters challenge the soldiers tracking us.

“It’s the Mutts,” I declare, feeling the hum of camaraderie. Even though I feel the hold of the EVI-3 slipping away, I have a connection. “They’re here.”

A single figure emerges as the leader, charging toward the heart of the battle. I recognize his stature; wide set of his shoulders and the wisps of golden hair. Before we can act, a massacre unfolds. He moves like a whirlwind, breaking necks and shinbones. He spins on a dime, landing every punch. He dodges bullets and blades, anticipating his opponents’ every move.

Cole is a deadly force and it’s easy to see the rage and pain fuel his movements. There’s not an ounce of insecurity or the slightest wavering. I’ve never seen someone fight like this, other than Wyatt, but this is different.

Wyatt fights with a purpose.

Cole fights because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Jesus Christ,” Davis says. “When did he learn to do all that?”

“When Chloe imprisoned us,” I hear myself answer, unable to tear my eyes away. “We fought daily but I know they beat him after our training was over too. He had to learn to defend himself.”

A breeze gusts over the road ahead of us and Cole stands among the dead, the other Mutts several feet away, cleaning the blood from their hands. I slide off the horse, my feet sinking into the soft ground, ignoring the sound of Wyatt calling my name.

The Mutts watch me carefully as I approach, stepping gingerly over the bodies. Cole, with blood smeared across his cheek, glances my way, his dark eyes hard and distant.

“Hey,” I call when I’m close enough. “Are you okay?”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. The blade of a red-stained knife hangs from his fingertips. I know Wyatt has followed me. I know Davis has him in his sights. One inch and they’ll take him out—because how do you come back from what we just saw?

“Cole?” I ask.

“No,” he says, voice tired and defeated. He looks at his hands. At the blade. Down at his blood-covered boots. “I don’t think I am.”

Chapter Twenty-One

We wait a day for Paul to return.

Cole disappeared into the woods after the slaughter and came back scrubbed clean and wearing a new outfit. His boots were the same, but the toes had been washed and there was only a faint tint of red on the leather.

The crazy look in his eyes was quelled. At least for the moment.

I sit on a rotted tree stump by a small, trickling stream. The Mutts had been congregating for a week or so and had created a small camp. One man, who was missing an ear, told us that they felt safer in the wilderness, away from the towns. I watch him tear small pieces of charred squirrel meat with his fingers before gnawing on the bones. I’m not sure if this type of isolation is a good signal. Safety? Or are they just losing their humanity—another step toward being feral?

“How many did you round up?” Wyatt asks once Cole rejoined us at camp. I offer him a can of tuna only just past the expiration date. Wyatt’s asking about the Mutts that Cole found who are willing to fight Hamilton.

“Forty-eight. But I think at least three didn’t survive that attack.” He removes a multi-tool from his belt and cuts off the lid. Then he opens a section designed like a fork and digs in.

At least he still uses utensils.

I fall asleep quickly—feeling a small sense of security with so many fighters around. A nudge wakes me in the morning and it’s Cole, kneeling over me in the gray light. “He’s back,” he whispers.

I rub the sleep from my eyes and glance over at Wyatt’s bedroll. It’s empty and I remember he’s on morning watch. “Who?”

“Paul. And he brought reinforcements.”

I scramble from my sleeping bag, wincing at the pain in my back from the hard ground. That’s another reason for staying in town. Beds.

“I should get—”

“He’s talking to him now.” He jerks his head. “Come on.”

The other Mutts are in various states of sleep and waking up. We step around the majority and follow a small, newly worn path out of the camp and down the small creek.

“How far away are they?” I ask once we get to a second rise.

“They came in a little bit south. Come on, I’ll show you.”

I have a dozen questions to ask but he takes the hill in a sprint and I fall behind, unable to keep up with his long legs. Halfway up I get an uneasy feeling. Mostly because he’s acting pretty normal. Is that his plan? Lull me into complacency and then kill me?

I’m about to turn and run for it but run where? Back to a Mutt-filled camp? I swallow my fears and climb over a rock that gets me to the top of the hill. Cole waits at the top. A strange smile on his face. I frown. Or maybe it’s just strange to see a smile on his face.

I follow his eyes and look down. A large parking lot sits below us and a building, big and industrial-looking, is almost a mile away. Vehicles fill the lot, but they’re not in organized positions—not like the ones closest to the building. No, these are military green, stamped with US identifiers. National Guard. Army. Marines. Two have flags hanging lank from poles but I can tell they are red, white, and blue.

“He found them?”

“Yes, and because they were so close to the Georgia state line they were well aware of the Hybrids. A couple of Jane’s original Fighters escaped West during the Coup.”

Cole goes first, quickly descending the hill. I come in faster than I’d like. A dozen soldiers watch me tumble in. I trip over a root near the bottom and land with a thud. Wyatt emerges and I give him a threatening stink eye if he even dares help me off the ground.

These people have no idea who I am—but I’m not some girl that needs help off the ground.

Wyatt backs off and waits as I stand, brushing my scraped hands on my pants.

“Guess that injection is finally wearing off.”

I hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe so.”

Paul, dressed in black head to toe, walks over. I give him a fast, tight hug.

“So it’s true? You brought an army?”

“Yep. And they know about everything. A few guys—good ones I thought we’d lost along the way—managed to get to Birmingham and they know about everything.” I must not look convinced because he adds, “The good and the bad, Alex. They know all of it.”

“And they’re willing to work with us?”

“Birmingham has struggled to get on their feet. Besides the original setbacks of the Eaters and infected citizens, they had to spend a huge amount of time sealing the city. The main supervisor over the emergency procedures died in the first wave of victims. The backup facilitators were unprepared. They have limited power and water management but they did secure the border. Their walls are strong but their infrastructure is weak.”

“Wow.”

“But they’ve also already had to survive Hybrid attacks. Chloe must have sent some of her people west while she was looking for us. But Alabama’s military is strong. Rebuilding is the issue. I think it’s been a hard road, like we all have had. But, they’re doing well now and it’s actually a pretty nice place. We’d all be welcome there.”

“Winston-Salem may not be so easy. Hamilton has laid some groundwork and what we told them didn’t seem to convince them.” I don’t say that it may have made it worse.

“Well,” Paul says, scratching his chin. “At least you’ll have back up when you go back in. The Bama Brigade is also willing to send in some people for a conversation about the Mutts.”

Bama Brigade. Seriously, only Alabama. Wyatt nods at the guys loitering in the parking lot. “What do they want from us?”

Paul gives a tired but knowing smile. “They’re hoping some of us will go back with them. They need help protecting and building the city. They have a long way to go.”

“The first bridge we have to cross is getting the council in Winston-Salem on board. They’re better than Hamilton but he’s convincing. Very persuasive. He’ll tell them what they want to hear,” I say.

Paul sighs and glances at Wyatt. Davis is over with the group from Birmingham, filling them in with Cole.

“Let’s get everyone together and work out a plan. We’ll get on the road ASAP,” Wyatt says. Paul nods and leaves to tell the others.

“You think this can work?” I think of Ms. Perez at the Council. She was tough but fair. The others are just afraid enough to want someone like Hamilton in charge. I’m going to need to get to her first.

Wyatt confirms what I’m thinking.  “I think it’s a matter of who gets there first.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

We make no attempt to disguise ourselves or vehicles on the way back to Winston-Salem. We may be considered fugitives but our motives are clear. We’ve got nothing to hide and hopefully Perez and the other council members will understand that.

The road is mostly clear, other than blockades put in place by the city’s military. We can move around them but it takes time—time that we don’t have. After we get through the second one, we all agree it’s a problem.

“We avoided these on the way down by coming on foot and later horseback,” Wyatt explains.

“I don’t want to leave the vehicles behind,” Paul says. They’re packed tight with ammunition. “If we do we’ll have to take time to hide them. We absolutely can not let Hamilton’s people get ahold of them.”

I scratch my neck. “You think they’d find them this far south?”

“I think Walker will cover her bases,” Davis replies.

Walker. She knows us. She knows how we operate. Hell, she trained me. “Then what do you want to do?” I ask.

Davis and Wyatt exchange a silent look, mentally going over a plan. They’ve always been in sync like this. Silent but deadly.  Wyatt nods at his friend and says, “Me, Davis, and Alex will scout ahead. You guys strip the vehicles of whatever you can carry. Stash the rest around town. If things go south we’ll come back this way, gather the trucks, and either fight or run.”

Paul frowns at the idea of running but eventually gives his agreement with one addendum. “Take Cole with you.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”

“You’ve seen him fight,” Paul says. “If something happens he’ll be an asset. At the very least give one of you a chance to get back to us.”

Wyatt and I are accustomed to working with Cole but Davis hesitates. He still remembers him as the vicious Mutt Chloe created. In reality, Cole can be much, much worse but he’s also a proven asset. “We can use him,” I say to Davis.

“He won’t hurt Alex,” Wyatt says.

“It’s not Alex that I’m particularly worried about,” he says, but rubs his cropped hair. “But whatever you think. You guys know the situation better than I do.”

“I’ll go tell him,” I say as Wyatt gets out his worn paper map.

Cole is standing off to the side, leaning against a concrete barricade. He’s alone and I’ve noticed he doesn’t socialize well with the others—including the Mutts. This may be part of why Paul wants him to go with us. To keep him away from the others. Cole has a strange energy.

“Hey.” I lean next to him.

“What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to scout ahead. Me, you, Wyatt, and Davis.”

He snorts. “I’m sure the other two are pleased about that.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Wyatt’s okay.”

He glances over at the men hunched over the map. “I guess so.”

“It’s crazy to think that maybe we’re near the end of this, you know?”

“Do you think that?” His entire body is tense. Like at any moment he could crack into a million pieces. Something’s holding him together but I’m not sure what. “Like really? That there will be an end to all of this?”

His voice isn’t mean. If anything he sounds, beneath the exhaustion, sincere.

“I think we can get to a place where we can move forward maybe. Get the vaccine out to everyone.”

“Vaccinating the whole country would be a massive feat,” he says. “It would take years, don’t you think? We don’t even know what it’s like out there. It could be so much worse.”

“Or maybe they got their shit together better? Look at Birmingham? Winston-Salem? We had no idea they even existed. There could be some other amazing places out there.”

He looks down at his hands. “I’m not sure I’d know what to do in this body without a fight ahead.”

It’s a pipe dream, I know it. But I’m also tired of fighting. I’m too skinny and bruised and my body aches all the time. I glance sideways at Cole. “One way or the other, this is my last battle.”

“That’s what you really want?”

“Desperately.”

He gives me one last look, his eyes dark and intense. He heads over to Wyatt and the others. I know in my heart that my words are true. I also know that his are too. I have Wyatt. A family that is still alive. I have hope for something better.

Cole has none of that.

*

We start the final trek to Winston-Salem loaded with weapons and ammo from the Birmingham troops. Davis loads and reloads his magazine, testing the feel of the gun. I took what I needed. Another gun, two flash grenades, but my trusty hatchet hangs by my side. The weight is familiar. The handle is smooth and worn from my hand.

“I can’t believe you still have that,” Cole says, walking up to me. His voice is quiet. We’re scouting the same side of the road together. Davis and Wyatt are shadows on the opposite side. Occasionally I see the flash of Davis’ massive frame as he leads the way.

“I’ve lost it a few times but it always manages to come back to me.”

“Like Indiana Jones’ hat.”

I blink, having no idea what that means. My reaction gets a smile from him though and he shakes his head before wandering off.  The scenery slips from suburbia to the burned-out section of town Wyatt and I escaped through earlier. The idea is to go back in the way we came out—through the guard entrance in the back. It worked once and Wyatt figures it should again. Wyatt and I will go back in and try to get a meeting with Perez and the council. Davis and Cole will return to get the others.

There’s another hour before nightfall so when Davis points out the charred remains of a steel-beamed building, we agree it’s a good spot and find a shadowy front room to hide in.

“You think this will work?” I ask for the millionth time. The plan seems weak. Perez holds no value in any of us and she may earn points with Hamilton if she just kills us all. It’s not like Chloe who kept us alive out of a sick need to torture me and Cole.

“We have to give it a shot,” Wyatt replies. We’re each tucked in one of the room’s four corners. Eyes are trained on the windows and doors. If Cole and Davis don’t return by morning, Paul and the troops will attack.

The wait seems to take twice as long as it should. My butt grows cold and numb on the cement floor. I have no desire to fight through winter. Last year we lucked out by being in Catlettsburg the whole time. Living in the house with Walker, Jane, and Avi seems like a lifetime ago.

I glance up at Wyatt and find him staring at me, his eyes shining in the fading light. I raise an eyebrow but he doesn’t flinch. That’s when I hear them; footsteps on the street. Cole is already standing. Davis pulls his gun.

I’m a second behind, which gives me the sinking feeling the EVI-3 has run its course. Shadows fall over the open doorway, lingering for a second but not stopping. Broken glass lines the streets and every foot fall crunches.

It’s as though they aren’t even trying to disguise themselves. Or maybe they can’t. I glance at Cole and mouth, humans?

He nods.

We can’t kill any of Perez’ people. It’s imperative that we enter the city on positive terms. I make the decision instantly—no hesitation, only holding my hands up to the others to stand back. Wyatt shakes his head. Davis trains his gun on the doorway. Cole watches with narrow eyes and nods encouragingly. My final words to them is a whispered, “Go! Now!”

I step out of the doorway and look around. I can’t find anyone so I dig deep and call out. “Help! I need help!”

A shout, then a flurry of footsteps follow and before I can back out I’m surrounded by a dozen soldiers, guns raised.

“It’s me. Alexandra Ramsey. I escaped from Winston-Salem last week. I’d been under direct orders by Councilwoman Perez to stay in my quarters.”

One of the men lowers his gun and says. “Where is your partner? Why were you calling for help?”

I hold up my foot. “Hurt ankle. I’ve twisted it one too many times. I need a medic.”

His eyes go from my foot to over my shoulder. His gun is back on target a second later and when I hear the crunch of glass behind me I don’t have to look to know who it is.

“I’m here. Wyatt Faraday.”

“Anyone else?”

“No. Just us.”

A figure pushes past the crowd of soldiers and I realize instantly I’ve made a mistake. Walker emerges, fierce and angry.

“Giving up? That doesn’t seem like you, Alexandra.” She glances at Wyatt. “It’s definitely not like you.”

Her eyes skim past us, back to the door and I swear under my breath. Seriously? Do none of them follow directions? Men.

When I look over my shoulder, though, my annoyance fades into something different. Something harsh and cold in the pit of my stomach. Davis exits the building with a gun leveled at Cole’s head. How they got in that position is beyond me, but Davis has a cut over his eye and Cole’s nose is bleeding. Cole’s eyes are hazy and unfocused.

Walker spits out a laugh and says, “Well done. I didn’t think you could do it, but you’ve proven me wrong.”

Davis holds out a syringe and tosses it to Walker. She catches it with her leather-gloved hands. “Worked like a charm.”

“What is that?” I ask. It’s not hard to see that Cole is slipping away. His body lists to the side and Wyatt jumps to hold him upright. I run to the other side and do the same. He’s heavy and no longer using his legs. His breathing turns shallow. “What did you do to him?”

“A little something your sister made up for us back in New Hope,” Walker says. “The kind term would be euthanasia.”

“You killed him?” My head fogs over. Davis’ face is stone.

“Of course we killed him, Alexandra. We’re sworn bounty hunters. That’s what we’re charged with doing. But he’s the first one to go like this. She gave me the shots weeks ago but I thought I’d save it for my favorite little mutation.” She flashes Davis an appreciative look. “Thank you for bringing him right to me.”

“No problem. I was sick of looking at him,” Davis replies. “He freaks me out.”

“Davis?” I ask. “What’s happening? What about everything you told us about Hamilton?”

“Hamilton is a great man, Alexandra. He’ll be the one to save this country. You just can’t see it yet.”

I feel rather than see the life slip out of Cole’s body. He just suddenly stops. There’s nothing more and I look at Wyatt, whose expression I cannot even begin to discern. He’s lost somewhere between sadness and rage, his friend and brother having betrayed him—us.

“Alex,” he says quietly and I know a signal when I hear it.

Silently we wait three beats before flinging Cole off our backs and turning our weapons onto Davis and Walker. But another shot fires first—two of them—and I feel the prick behind my ear.

“What have you done?” I ask Davis, or the shadow of him. Sleep crashes over my head like a wave.

Wyatt drops first, his weight pushing me over, and when I hit the ground the last thing I see is Cole’s blank face.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I wake bound to a hard, wooden bench. Wyatt sits across from me alert and awake.  We’re in a long corridor. Guards placed at each end.

My head feels like it was assaulted by a thousand hammers.

“You okay?” Wyatt’s voice is quiet.

“Yes. No. I mean…”  I blink, pushing aside the images of Cole and stretch my neck. “Why do you look like you didn’t just get knocked out?”

He shrugs. “I think we’re outside the council room. In the courthouse? Where they kept Parker that day.”

“Where’s Cole?”

“I don’t know. The last thing I saw was you.”

“Do you think he’s dead?”

“Would you keep him alive?” he asks.

I push back the emotion threatening to tip me over. “Do you think we’ll still get our meeting?”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure Hamilton beat us here.”

“And Davis betrayed us,” I add, watching for his reaction. He grimaces but otherwise keeps his emotions in check. “Did you have any idea?”

“No.”

I lean against the wall, wishing for some aspirin. Wyatt takes a seat next to me.

“Perez seems rational,” he says hopefully. “Maybe she’ll tell him to pack it up and head north.”

“Hamilton will never let us go from this. We took his daughter. We disobeyed orders. He seems like a man who wants everyone to follow orders. Especially his.”

The guard shifts down the hall and the metal latch groans. He speaks with someone outside the door and glances over at us. The door swings open further and Sophia walks in. Her eyes are hard. “Stand up. The Council is waiting.”

“Sophia, we need to talk to Councilwoman Perez. We have information about Hamilton. Serious information from before the crisis.”

“Sorry, there won’t be any time for you to speak to Ms. Perez. Stand up so we can go.”

I lurch to my feet, swaying from the drugs. Wyatt offers his shoulder since his hands are tied behind his back. I lean into him, steadying my feet. Sophia walks past us, moving in the wrong direction, protected by two soldiers.

“Wait. We’re not going to the meeting room?”

She shakes her head. “Colonel Hamilton is here. You’ve been summoned to witness his presentation to the entire town.”

“Where is that?” Wyatt asks. We’re headed down a long hallway, maze- like in the back of the government building.

I try once more. “Hamilton isn’t who you think he is. He started this. Way back—with my sister. They conspired to destroy the world and all the weak along the way. You can’t let him gain control over the Safe Cities.”

We travel down a long flight of stairs. Four more guards stand in the doorway. Badges over their hearts point out their allegiance. Two from Winston-Salem. Two from New Hope. The door pushes open into underground parking.  A jeep with blacked-out windows idles at the curb.

I keep trying. “The only person that can stop this is Perez. If she’s willing to separate herself from Hamilton—she’ll have access so the Mutts can protect the city. And there are others,” Sophia gives me a look, “other cities. They aren’t on board with Hamilton either.”

I think I may have her attention but the guard pushes me and then Wyatt into the back of the Jeep, slamming the door. The ride doesn’t take long but it feels like it does. A black sheet separates the front so we can’t see out. Wyatt and I sit in the dark. His hand grazes mine.

“We’ll get out of this,” he whispers.

The gnawing in my gut tells me otherwise.

The Jeep comes to a lurching stop and the air is cool and crisp against my face when the guard opens the door. We’re at the entrance of a concrete tunnel with a slanted ramp. Light pours in from the other side.

Wyatt’s eyes narrow. “A stadium?”

The guard nudges us forward and when we reach the light at the end I’m startled to see a sea of faces. A huge crowd has been assembled and they sit among the black and gold school colors of the local university. A few people wait on a platform in the middle of the field. As we move closer I spot Walker, Davis, and Jackson. All in clean uniforms.  All betrayers.

There are others on the far side of the staging area. Parker and Jude. Mary Ellen stands next to them. My eyes graze her belly and she offers me a quick, grim look. My knees buckle at the sight of the next two people. Jane and my father.

“What are they doing here?” I ask Sophia. “Where’s Zoe? What’s happening?”

“A celebration. The merging of our communities. We’re building a bigger future.”

Wyatt holds up his bound hands. The black plastic band cuts at his skin. “And this? What does this represent?”

Her eyes dart to the ground. “Hamilton’s request. He plans on using you as an example.”

“Sophia…” I start but she holds up her hand.

“It’s too late, Alex. The deal has been made. The council approved it.”

“The council has but have the people had a chance to vote? Do they even know what’s outside the fence? What he’s done?”

She doesn’t answer and again I’m pushed along. I’m glad to see my friends and family are not restrained, or at least I think they’re not until I get closer. Sophia ushers us to the front of the stage, next to Jane and my father. I smile gratefully at just seeing them—despite the circumstances.

“Are you okay?” I whisper as we pass. Jane nods. My father looks a mixture of relief and worry. There’s nothing I can do to quell his fear. “What did you give Walker? Cole is dead—she said it was something you made!”

“Keep walking. Hands behind your back,” the guard says, pushing me along. “And no talking.”

I stand between my dad and Wyatt, who leans over and whispers, “Guns everywhere. In the stands. Behind the PA system.”

They may not be visibly restrained but no one here is free to move.

“I said no talking.” The guard repeats.

The crowd roars with energy, eager for the event to begin. It’s been a long time since stadiums were used for something positive and I can feel the hope vibrating off the stands. A make-shift marching band sits at the base of the stage, most likely holding scavenged instruments. I don’t know the last time I heard music played, live or otherwise. Occasionally back on Erwin’s bases someone would have a guitar and an older woman in Catlettsburg played the piano in church on Sunday mornings. But that was a long time ago and music is a type of noise that’s considered a death wish in the Fields. But here? It’s another symbol things are back on track. Hamilton knows what he’s doing.

A shout ripples through the crowd. Several people stand and they’re looking and pointing at the stage. We’re close enough to hear the murmurs.

“Can you hear that?” I whisper to Wyatt. I glance at Sophia who is nearest to the edge of the stage. “What are they saying?”

“Something about ‘the girl’…’” Wyatt says.

Sophia doesn’t move an inch but replies, “They’re saying “Is that the girl who…’” She looks at me sideways. “They’re talking about you.”

“Me?”

Sophia cracks the hint of a wary smile. “You’re famous. A legend.”

“Quiet!” grunts a guard. I feel the sharp point of a gun in my back.

Before I can react, I spot the conductor of the band stand and he exchanges nods with a guard near the tunnel. He takes his place before the musicians and lifts his baton. Soon, wobbly notes come from the brass instruments followed by the vibration of drums.

Hamilton and Perez emerge from the tunnel at the same time, followed by a string of people. He looks striking in a military uniform, handsome and confident. I’m sure he didn’t earn the medals that flank his breast. Perez wears a nice outfit, including her shoes—the kind that will get her killed in the apocalypse. The crowd jumps to their feet, applauding their new leaders. I recognize a few faces from Winston-Salem’s Council and the woman that directed our orientation in New Hope. Next to Hamilton is the most familiar person—Zoe. Dressed in a flattering outfit, her face blank, although her eyes scan over us as she passes. Of course, Hamilton called for her the minute they arrived.

The entire group files out of the opening and take seats across the stage. Hamilton and Perez take their places in the center and wait for the music and cheering to die down.

“Thank you,” Hamilton says, nodding and smiling with the crowd. He does nothing to stop the cheering—instead bouncing along happily. He reaches out to Perez and spins her around with glee. Sophia is right. It’s a celebration.

Finally, he hushes the people and steps to the edge of the stage. “Thank you all for the warm welcome. Thanks to the Council and Council Chair Perez for the hospitality and taking care of my daughter Zoe as she traveled ahead of my team. I’m thrilled our cities are forging together to create peace and prosperity. Our two communities, along with the other Safe Cities our esteemed government had the foresight to create, will be the catalyst for a new and bright future.”

A rash of cheers churn in the audience—even some chants. Again, Hamilton waits this out for a moment before continuing. “We’ve survived terrible days. We are bound to have more ahead. We’re not through this yet but I see a light at the end of this journey, one without disease and infection or life-altering parasites. One without monsters that infect and kill at random. One without criminals and deviants terrorizing our families. We will live in a world with medication and vaccines. One with big, beautiful walls that protect us at from the monsters still roaming the country side—because trust me—I was just out there. The monsters aren’t gone. Not yet, and some are scarier than you realize. Some,” he looks conspiratorially at the crowd, “are in the stadium right now.”

The crowd gasps and looks at their neighbors. Fear ripples like a current. I can feel it all the way on the stage and without thinking shout, “Stop fear-mongering! There’s nothing to be afraid of in here but his rhetoric!”

I’ve taken several steps away from where I’m supposed to be standing and I feel the trained weapons on my forehead, ready to take the shot. Hamilton looks over at me, a slight amused smile on his face. Instead of ordering my death he waves me over. I stand frozen, unsure as to what I’ve done, and a look over my shoulder reveals the scared and horrified faces of my friends.

Walker, on the other hand, looks down right entertained.

Hamilton leans into the microphone and says, “Come here, Alexandra, the people would love a chance to meet the girl behind the legend.”

Another wave rustles the crowed, this time more curiosity than anything else. People are peering over one another to take a look. I walk forward, hands still tied behind my back. I’m filthy compared to everyone else on stage and my head pounds from Davis’ knock-out drug. I know my eyes are red from crying over Cole, but that’s why he wants me out here. To dispel the myth. I’m not the girl who can do the things they’ve heard about. I’m the girl who is nothing more than a hot mess.

“Many of you have heard of Alexandra Ramsey. Famous for helping eradicate the Eaters from much of the south. And most of you have probably heard the rumors about the darker side of the Death Fields. The biologically manipulated Hybrids who are immune to the infection but maintain enormous strength and skill. Alexandra assassinated their commander. Everything you’ve heard about this girl is true. She’s the real deal. A fighter and loyal sister and daughter. She’s sacrificed so much for this country.”

A new wave of cheering bursts through the audience, so loud I can feel it rattle my bones. But there’s something else causing the chill up my spine. It’s the way Hamilton speaks about me. The way he looks at me. The words coming out of his mouth do not reflect his actual feelings. It only takes a moment for the next shoe to drop.

“Why is she tied up?” someone in the crowd shouts. And others start wondering too. Another wave of chanting starts.

Let her go

Let her go

Let her go

Hamilton does his magic and the audience settles. “I know it may seem cruel to have Alexandra restrained, but not all heroes are what they seem. This girl is a deadly killer. A traitor to the human race. She assists the very monsters that threaten our society. She aids them. Spends time with them and very recently attempted to become one of them herself.”

This silences the crowd and a wicked grin spreads across Hamilton’s face. I search for Perez and catch her eye, silently begging her to make this stop.

Walker takes a step over, blocking my eye contact.

“Today is a fresh start. One I’m willing to give anyone that wants to be a member of the Safe Cities Alliance. An opportunity I’ve already given Ms. Ramsey and her friends. They turned their back on me. Kidnapped my daughter and continued to consort with the enemy.”

I snatch the microphone from his hand. “Don’t listen to him! He’s the one behind the crisis! He developed the infection to dismantle society! He is not your ally!”

Walker charges me and I duck, but there’s no place to go and my hands are behind my back. She latches her arm around my neck, snatching the microphone from my hands.  Wyatt is already on his feet and he and Davis square off.  Jackson eyes Jude, Parker, and Mary Ellen, leveling his gun in their direction, daring them to make a move. I look at the pregnant girl, her face pale and worried, and shout, “Stop! Wyatt. Stop. Davis, calm the eff down. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

The frenzy on the stage stops but Hamilton looks like the cat that ate the canary. He takes the microphone from Walker, who only tightens her grip on my neck. He walks back to the edge of the stage. Perez finally gathers a bit of courage and approaches him. The crowd can’t hear them speak but I can make out their words.

“Is this really necessary? We don’t deal with problems in public like this. Not in Winston-Salem,” she says.

“We had an agreement. And for that arrangement to happen I will make an example out of these people. They’ve had their opportunity.”

“And so, what? Public humiliation?” she asks. Lines furrow her forehead. “This won’t go over well.”

His eyes narrow at her tone—clearly offended she challenged his authority. The wild mania I’d sensed before from him flares behind his eyes and Perez realizes her mistake. “It’s just…the community is so fragile. I don’t want to excite everyone.”

“Madam, I hear your concern but it all depends on the getting the desired reaction.” He looks out over the crowd, many nervous and scared. “I’d say things are progressing nicely.”

Hamilton walks over to a small box on the edge of the stage. He faces the crowd, who has grown restless with the activities they’ve witnessed so far.  With the microphone close to his mouth he says, “Before we go further I need to show you what we’re fighting against.”

He slams his foot down on the box and a door opens on the platform. A rectangular box rises from below, like we’re part of some post-apocalyptic half-time show. I fight against Walker until I can see better.

A mighty shudder rolls down my spine. Cole has been displayed on the board, arms spread crucifixion style. His skin is an ashy white. The curls on his head are matted and dull. There’s little question that he’s dead and a scream of disbelief catches in my throat. He was murdered by Davis in the streets. Davis, my friend, killed my other friend.

Spray painted over his head is the word, ’Mutant’, in drippy, red letters.

The audience is a mixture of gasping screams. Parents shield their children’s eyes. I feel bile surge up my throat. Even Wyatt’s face has turned a queasy green.

“Do you see this man?” Hamilton asks the crowd. “Looks perfectly normal. Strong. Capable. Smart, too—he used to be a scientist. Wanted to be a doctor.”

He steps closer and again I fight against Walker, who has me in a death grip.

“This man chose to give his humanity away. All for vengeance against an unjust world. He was the best a person could be—yet that meant nothing to him. He tossed it away. For power and strength.” He looks out into the crowd. “Do you really want to live side-by-side with a creature like this? One you can’t differentiate from your human neighbors? One who can snap your neck with his bare hands?” Hamilton points at Davis. “Do you see this man? Even he couldn’t stop the mutant. Not alone. Is that who you want living next door? Among your children?”

“Colonel Hamilton,” Ms. Perez says, walking up to him. “I think you’ve made your point.”

His eyes grow wild and he grits out, “No, I don’t think I have.”

Walker tightens her grip but I feel her remove her gun from her holster. “Don’t do this, Michelle,” I beg her. I lock eyes with Wyatt. He’s watching us like a hawk. “You’re better than this freak show.”

I feel the hard metal of the barrel against my head and watch, horrified, as Hamilton stands before Cole. The man tilt his chin upward and speaks loud and clear into his microphone, “God have mercy on your soul, son.”

“You’re disgusting!” I shout. “Cole was a better man than you even with the mutation running through his veins!”

His eyes flick toward me. There’s no emotion in them but hate. “We can’t have people like you in our world, Alexandra.” He nods at Walker. “Kill her.”

“Daddy! No!” Zoe shouts running toward him. Just before she reaches him she jumps back and screams. Two arrows fly through the sky from above, each slicing across Cole’s wrists with a gut-churning thwick. Hamilton and everyone else in the stadium looks up, trying to locate the shooter. More arrows zip through the air, taking out the sentries on the rooftops above, landing with precision on the guard blocking the stage. Walker keeps her grip tight, hugging me even closer. I glance to my right and watch as Parker drags Mary Ellen off to the side. With his hands tied behind his back, Jude charges at Jackson, kicking a chair into the bigger man’s knees.

“Kill her!” Hamilton shouts again, but his arms are tight around his daughter. Not in an embrace but a struggle over his weapon. He’s too big for her to overpower but Zoe does everything she can to slow him down.

“Walker! You’ve been given an order!”

The nuzzle jams into my skull. I wait for the shot. And wait, but all I hear is the screams of the crowd and Walker’s breath in my ear. It’s not that she won’t do it. It’s that she’s afraid. Not of me. No, someone else.

“Hands up,” Wyatt shouts, and without question Jude lifts his hands upward, an arrow splits the sky, severing the binds. Wyatt winks at Davis and says, “Paul has amazing aim.” To my astonishment, Davis tosses Wyatt a gun that he aims a gun at Walker’s head and says, “Let go of her. Now.”

Walker tugs me backwards, knowing I’m the only thing between her and certain death. “I knew it,” she hisses in my ear. “Those two will betray everyone else, but not each other or you.”

“Walker,” he says again, taking a step closer. She tightens her arm on my throat and I gag.

“I’ll kill her, Faraday. Then you’ll kill me. Either way, she’s dead.”

Her words are drowned out by the screams in the stadium. The attack set the crowd, who is already on edge, into a frenzy. The stadium falls into chaos, the guards instantly overwhelmed. People swell in stands, jumping over rows, falling onto the field. They rush the exits blocked by armed guards. The stairwells clog with people looking for cover from the attack above. They’re trapped and don’t know it’s the good guys outside the fence. They’re just scared.

An explosion rocks the ground—not from inside—but outside the stadium. People scream louder. Hamilton, in the midst of losing control, grapples with Zoe.

Across the stage, Perez--who moves faster than I expected--and her Council are gathered by the soldiers on stage. The rest of us are left in our dramatic showdown. I make eye contact with the woman, who is surrounded by guards, and make a plea.

“Perez!” I choke out, against the pressure of Walker’s arm. She stumbles just as a series of bombs go off outside the walls. “They want to work with you. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

She looks at me with regret but I point at my sister and father and shout one last thing. “Take them with you.”

Jane looks indignant. I know she can handle herself but my father can’t. Even Walker seems to have no problem letting them go. They hold the cure. None of us can afford to lose them.

Movement from the front of the stage catches my eye as Hamilton copies Walker’s move and grabs Zoe, turning her into a shield. He’s shouting while Zoe cries, fat tears rolling down her smooth cheeks. Wyatt keeps the gun focused on Walker, who just squeezes me tighter. Jude and Jackson brawl across the stage landing punch after punch. Parker has thrown her body over Mary Ellen’s, protecting her from the fight. Inch by inch they make their way off the platform. It all happens in a whirlwind of activity, but something else tugs at my consciousness.

Those two first arrows landed with intent, missing both Hamilton and Zoe. I stare at them now, green-tufted feathers sticking straight out of the board. Paul shot those arrows. Wyatt said so himself. I glance skyward but the sentries on top are gone, the battle having moved outside the stadium.

Hamilton shouts, “It doesn’t end like this. The freaks will not inherit the earth. You’re an abomination in God’s eyes. He will not let this stand and neither can I—”

The ripping sound echoes in my ears, even over the escalating sounds of a heavy fighting outside. The straps are leather but the arrows weakened them, giving the sleeping beast the chance to make his move.

Cole lunges from the board, awake and most definitely alive. Pushing Zoe to the ground, his strong hands wrap round Hamilton’s neck. Walker gasps in my ear.

“Me or him,” I tell her, but leverage the moment to elbow her in the gut and slam my foot down on her toes. Wyatt jumps at his chance, disarming and disabling Walker, and I race toward Davis. He quickly cuts the binds and tosses me the hatchet that he hung from his belt.

Jude lands a punch on Jackson, knocking him to the ground where he tips over and falls with a thud. Already the sounds of the battle have waned. It shouldn’t take long for the Mutts and Birmingham to make their point. Perez isn’t dumb enough to make a mistake twice today

“Help me,” Hamilton begs Walker, eyes bulging.

“Let it go,” Wyatt says to her. I have little doubt he’ll pull the trigger if she moves an inch. “Cole. It’s time to end this.”

He’s giving him the choice. And I watch the tic in Cole’s jaw as he runs the plays through his head. Kill him. Hurt him. Maim him. Finally he says, “You spoke of my life before—how it was filled with hope and possibility—how I threw it away.”

Hamilton’s down on his knees now, eyes pleading.

“There’s only one thing I lost in all of this that I regret. Everything else was worth it. The decisions I made were for the better of this country—for the people. How dare you question my loyalty.” He glances over and I feel the pain in his words. “To anyone.”

“I was wrong. I didn’t understand,” Hamilton says, but his arrogance betrays his hatred. Once again the crowd roars. I look up and see a man emerge from the center tunnel leading the Mutts and Bama Brigade inside. A wide, real—not painted—smile on his face.

Reality bears down on Hamilton and Walker. Cole resumes his condemnation.  “No. You didn’t understand. You have no idea what the real world is like out there. You don’t know what it’s like to be hunted and to hunt. We didn’t have walls protecting us and even when we did we had to make decisions based on survival.”

Cole’s voice is calm. Eerily so, and he bends closer to Hamilton and points a gun at Zoe, who is frozen to her spot on the stage.

“Would you kill her for the future? Would you sacrifice family?”

Hamilton looks at his daughter—weak and pathetic. He takes a deep breath. “Yes. I would.”

Cole’s back straightens. “That’s the difference between us. Because I couldn’t. Alex couldn’t.” His hand tightens around his throat and says, “You’re the real monster.”

The snap is quick, brutal, the light of Hamilton’s eyes extinguishing in an instant. Zoe gasps and I run across the stage to her. She falls in my arms, sobbing, and I watch Cole as he stands. Walker falls to her knees, tossing her weapon at Wyatt. Davis ties her hands in binds, while Jude does the same to Jackson.

Wyatt takes little time reaching me and pulling me off the ground. His hug is crushing and his words sweet and powerful in my ear. I feel the change in this moment—the actual hope that was missing in all our other fights. The good guys didn’t swoop in to win this one. It was only us. The dirty and conflicted. The morally questionable.

I look over Wyatt’s shoulder, searching for Cole, but he’s no longer on the stage.

“Where did he go?” I ask Wyatt.

“We’ll find him.” He looks past me and I see that Zoe is on the ground next to her father’s body. I take her hand and pull her away, back toward the way we came in.

Halfway across the platform, Parker and Mary Ellen appear from their hiding spot. Jude hobbles over, bloody from his fight with Jackson, and helps Parker back on the stage. They fall into a tight, heartbreaking hug and my eyes lock with Wyatt’s.

“Mary Ellen may need a little help,” I suggest. He raises an eyebrow but Zoe is the one that moves to help her. Once she’s on the platform, I can’t help but stare at the girl’s belly. Wyatt gives me a questioning look.

“She’s pregnant.” We watch Mary Ellen ghost her hand over the small bump protectively. “Finn’s, obviously.”

“Pregnant?”

I laugh at his confusion and it feels good. So good for something to break the fear and sorrow.  “That still happens, even in the apocalypse.”

“I know that. I mean…” And for the few times since I’ve known and loved Wyatt Faraday, he looks afraid.

I pull him close, wrapping my arms around him. Death surrounds us. Hamilton is dead. Chloe gone. The Mutts are safe, for now, at least. Around Wyatt’s back I see my sister and father emerge from the rear of the stadium with Perez and her council. The Bama Brigade and Mutts are calm and organizing the crowds. Despite the sticky blood under my feet and the fact half our allies turned traitor, we’re stronger than ever.

“Tell me about that place again,” I say, keeping my eyes on my sister and father. I don’t want to let them out of my sight. “The one at the beach.”

His chin rests on my head and his arms squeeze me tight and Wyatt, whispering in my ear, reminds me of the little slice of heaven he claims waits for us further south. The place we can go to be together. Where we can exist in peace, away from the carnage and fighting.

Because after today, after the gunfire and blood, the girl who nearly lost it all in order to save those most important to her, plans one last thing.

To live for the future.

Epilogue

The air tastes salty, and when I step off the boardwalk my toes sink into the soft, gray sand. I can’t help but look down and marvel at the moment.

I’m barefoot.

Which is exactly how you get killed in the apocalypse.

There’s something else—at first it was jarring. The waves beat the sand unrelentingly, day and night. The sound settled in my ears, replacing the silence that has followed us for years, through the farmland and forests. Over mountains and in the dark of night. On our tiny island, silence doesn’t exist. The ocean is alive with the waves and wind. Wyatt was right. It’s perfection.

At first, I’m sure that we’ll all die. Me and Wyatt. Mary Ellen and the baby. I doubt Zoe will even make it on the trip. I’m convinced that now that we’re here, now that we’ve found the kids and the Armstrong family, I’ll bring danger with us. But Dorothy and her husband Matt are strong. Her daughters, their husbands and kids are even stronger. So we don’t. We don’t die out here on this island. Instead we survive. We live. And ultimately, although it’s in a different way, we thrive.

I sit on the bottom step of the boardwalk that leads up to the small beach house and think about how I got to this place. Before Chloe took over PharmaCorp, before I escaped north with my sister, I found three children in an abandoned, burned-out section of Augusta, Georgia. I found these three children, Devin, Kori, and Garrett, who needed a home. I couldn’t provide one at the time but Wyatt did. He went even further by giving them a family. A housewife and farmer he’d met and rescued from the Hybrid Army. He gave them a house, a beach, really, an entire island, isolated from the danger and infection of the world.

The kids race down by the water’s edge. Mr. Armstrong watches from the lifeguard chair dragged from some other part of the beach. Zoe, out for a walk with Mary Ellen and her baby, stroll near the dilapidated pier. M.E. named the baby, a girl, Finley, and she has her father’s eyes.

The sun beams overhead and the sky is clear and blue. We’ve made it to another summer.

Vibrations on the boardwalk alert me to someone coming, and although my hands ghost over the place my hatchet should be, I don’t panic when it’s missing. It’s taken months to fight the reflex. Wyatt says we shouldn’t lose it completely. That, realistically, we should find a place in the middle.

He thinks we should try to be happy.

His feet appear on the step, then down on the sand next to my own. I find them fascinating. They’re brown and tan and until we arrived on the island I’m not sure I ever saw them. But now they’re exposed all the time. On the beach. Through the house. In our bed. He rests his hand on my lap and I thread my fingers through his. He has a silver band that matches the one on my left hand.

“How was patrol?” I ask. He’d been gone since the day before with two of the other men.

“Good. Randy bagged a deer.”

“Really?” We don’t keep much meat. So something fresh is always a treat. “I’ll go up soon to help.”

He nods. His chin is smooth—he shaved before he came down, knowing I like it best. “It was pretty quiet though. We did run into a few scouts from Birmingham. They’re helping Augusta get up on their feet.”

After the battle in Winston-Salem, agreements were made between the cities of Birmingham, Winston-Salem, and New Hope. A three-part council was created and it was agreed that the Mutts were not a threat. In fact, all parties agreed the Hybrids are an on-going issue, but the Mutts, if willing, seemed to be the answer.

Paul agreed to command these soldiers—or rather, bounty hunters. Hamilton wasn’t mistaken about the threat of the Hybrids—his ideology was wrong. The Hybrids and Eaters are still a problem, but as a society we have to accept the changes. And the Mutts are part of us now.

Jane and my father are back in Augusta, reclaiming the old PharmaCorp building as a new Safe City. Parker and Jude went with them. Much of the work had been done by Jane before Chloe’s coup and although it hasn’t been easy, it sounds like, from the news we occasionally get, things are moving forward.

“Any word about Jane or Dad?”

“Just that they’re making vaccines again.”

Worry tugs at my chest. “Nothing new I hope?”

“I don’t think so.” There are fine lines by his eyes. We both know anything is possible with my sister. “The guy I talked to said they were sending teams out soon—out West to look for more viable cities.”

“Any word on Cole?”

He shakes his head. “I asked, but no. He’s a ghost.”

Cole disappeared after the battle. Walked off the stage and none of us saw him again. Not Paul or the other Mutts. None of the soldiers that edge our island on their patrols. Cole simply vanished.

Wyatt squeezes my hand. “He went through a lot—probably more than the rest of us. He may just need time. It’s what I had to do after Liberia. Sometimes the only way to rest your brain is to get away from everything and everyone.”

I bite my bottom lip. The guilt and pain I feel for Cole is ever-present. Most of us made it out in one piece—at least physically. Cole is broken and I’m terrified he’ll never find his way back.

“Wyatt!  Wyatt!” Kori calls, racing from the shoreline. She holds a green plastic bucket over her head and water drips down her skinny arms.

“What’ve you got?” he asks when she makes it over. Most of the water is gone but down in the bottom is a small crab. It holds its pinchers up menacingly. “That thing looks pretty scary.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not afraid.”

Kori doesn’t remember much about life before the island. Neither does Garrett. We’ve made an effort to keep the real monsters out of their lives. Devin is almost fifteen and Wyatt has taken him and Zoe under his wing for training.

She runs off, kicking sand, and I lean into Wyatt’s side.

“It’s weird, isn’t it,” he says, eyes scanning the horizon. “The normalcy of it all.”

“Definitely.”

“Do you think we can stay here?” he asks. It’s not the first time. Sometimes I’m the one that asks the question with no answer.

“As long as we can.”

“Do you think it’s wrong we left it all behind?”

I shake my head. The wind whips through my hair and I push it behind my ears. “We did what we could. We fought our battles. We killed and watched people we loved die. The future relies on many people, Wyatt Faraday, not just us.”

He squeezes my hand and hops up. “Come on.”

I raise my eyebrow. The water’s not really my thing. The Atlantic is too dark and filled with predators I can’t see. Wyatt knows this and he yanks me from my seat and flips my legs into his arms.

“You’re pretty demanding, did you know that?” I ask.

“Someone taught me not to run away or give up.”

He carries me down to the water, wincing when the cold water hits his feet. The children shout and surround us, pulling at me to let go and swim. Even when we’re waist deep I keep my fingers linked to Wyatt’s. We learned one thing in all of this: We need one another to survive this broken-down, dangerous world. That even though people can be as terrifying as the monsters, we don’t have to succumb to the darkness.

~The End~

*skip the author note if you don’t want to hear my blahblah but do want to hear an announcement about future books.

Author Note
Readers! First let me apologize for the lateness of book 6 of The Girl Who series. I wanted it out three weeks ago. That just didn’t happen. This whole spring was a little insane. In my personal life we had a major death in the family, had to clean a (VERY FULL) house, have an estate sale, deal with estate *things* and then ultimately make the decision to move houses. That final part is still in process. That doesn’t include kids, school, work and all the other obligations of life. That being said, I haven’t been so involved and immersed in one of my own stories in a long time. Alexandra had a story to be told and I’m grateful the muse spoke to me.

I need to thank everyone that helped me keep on track. April and Laura for their beta-wisdom. Logan Keys for her marketing input. Author Rachel McClellan who taught me how to make Facebook Ads, which got my OTHER books to sell which gave me more time to focus on this series. Author Chris Fox whose interviews and books taught me how to relaunch a series I didn’t do right the first time. Obviously I thank AngstyG for the A-Mazing covers. She’s the Gayle to My Oprah or the Oprah to my Gayle. I never know who’s who. Probably depends on the topic. And of course thank you to the awesome readers who encouraged me to get this sucker finished in record time. I hope it met your expectations. I tried.

Don’t forget to follow me on the social medias. I’ve got more up my sleeve! See you soon!

Angel

Announcements!

First, my goal all along was to spin this off into a larger series. I knew exactly where I wanted it to end about midway through book 4, which is pretty impressive for a pantster. I knew Alexandra and Wyatt could have their own happily-ever after-ish (It’s the apocalypse people, there’s no rainbows around here but there is such thing as good night’s sleep and sleeping with your boots off.)

My current plan is to write a follow up series with Cole as the central character. I can’t give away too many details but I’m excited to share his journey will you all. I’ve got to get through the summer of 2017 before I can commit to a release date but fingers crossed for late fall/early winter. I also need a chance for Alexandra to stop bossing me around and for Cole to find his voice. If you want more information about this series and release dates make sure you subscribe to my mailing list! I’ll post updates when I can and ARC opportunities!

Please keep up with me via my mailing list—one specifically designed for dystopian and post-apocalyptic novels. You’ll be the first to receive information about the next books in the Death Fields series as well as sales and other goodies.

Also, you can find me on twitter @theangellawson or on Facebook at Angel Lawson or Angel Lawson Author. Come say hi. I do have cookies but they’re gluten free.

(PS: Don’t get mad if I publish some other books. I haven’t bailed. I just have crazy artist brain!)

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

The Girl Who Broke Free

The Girl Who Saved the World

Creature of Habit Series:

Creature of Habit (Book 1)

Creature of Habit (Book2)

Creature of Habit (Book 3)

A Vampire’s Seduction (Ryan’s Story Book 4)

A Vampire’s Fate (Sebastian’s Story Book 5)

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