I turn to my right and see him coming for me. No, Gabe. Not right now. Not yet.
“Remi!” he repeats.
I turn my head away from him and I’m almost to the car when another blast knocks me off my feet—another car engulfed in flames.
“Fire on the wall! Fire on the wall!”
Screeching noises sound off all around us as the soldiers fire their rocket launchers one after another. My eyes find Anchorage in the distance and watch as each missile hits the wall, breaking it in chunks, crumbling a huge section to the ground. This is it. I’m about to lose my chance at stopping Scott and Derek.
“Move in!” Jeremiah yells. “Move in!”
I look toward him for just a second. Waverly is looking all around her, probably trying to see where I went. I am supposed to be with them. I turn my head, this time looking for Gabe, but I can’t find him. When I look back at the SUV where Mike and Jenna are waiting, I see that it’s already on the move toward the wall.
I curse loudly. Getting up to my feet, I look in every direction for a place to run. I don’t have to go in at all. I could just take Evie away from here completely. I could just disappear. But when I look toward the wall, I see about two hundred or more greyskins charging after the commotion all around me. There’s no way I can outrun them with a kid in my arms. If I don’t get into another vehicle, Evie and I will both die.
There are only a couple of cars straggling behind once I finally get to my feet. “Stop! Wait!” With the kid in my arms, I run after one of the vehicles. The driver in the front looks like he’s going to ignore me at first, but finally decides to let us get in the back. I barely get the door closed before he floors it, tearing after the rest of the caravan. Part of me wants to take out the driver and just steal the car away from him, but there are three other soldiers inside, fully equipped to take me on. I would be dead in a second before I get the chance to try. So, inevitably, we make our way to the wall where death waits for us.
Greyskins swarm into the compound like an overturned anthill, biting and clawing at anything that moves. Gunshots and screams sing out into the open air, and it seems there is no end in sight. I hold Evie’s head to my chest as we drive forward. Every couple of seconds there is a loud thud as we hit a greyskin with a car, or one of them tries to grab at the car, smacking against the side. Soon, we’re in the thick of it. Being one of the last vehicles into the compound, it seems we’ve run into the most dense amount of greyskins trying to converge on the opening. The car is completely surrounded, and the undead pound on the outside of it. The front passenger window shatters and arms crawl through like worms, wrapping around the soldier’s neck and limbs. He tries to shoot at them, but before he can get off a shot, he’s already being pulled out, teeth ripping into his neck, fingernails digging into his back. I shut my eyes tightly, holding Evie as she whimpers. Another one of the soldiers pulls up his assault rifle and sprays bullets into the crowd of them, dropping a few but bringing the attention of more.
I want to do something. I want to stop them. I need to protect Evie, but what can I do? There are so many and all I have is a pistol. But even if I had a rocket launcher, it would do no good inside the car.
We’re dead, that’s all there is to it. Waverly’s vision was wrong—that or we already changed it without knowing it. There is no more future for me or Evie. I should have just stayed in the car. I should have let things run their course without trying to help fate do its job. Because of me, we’re dead.
But there’s another loud whistle through the air, followed by another deafening explosion. This time, it’s so close it rocks the car off its tires and tips it on its side. My back smacks into the window which is crushed against the ground. The only way out of the car is up.
“Evie, we’ve got to go,” I say. She continues to cling tightly to me. When I stand in a crouch, I’m standing on the left side door of the car. I reach my arms up and push on the opposite door, and I climb out of the car. Evie reaches up for me and I’m able to pull her out. Standing on the car’s side about five feet in the air, I can see that we’re inside the walls of Anchorage. At least twenty greyskins see me, as the others have been scattered or blown to pieces by the recent blast. A giant black mark on the ground below us shows that the rocket has missed the car by about ten feet—just enough to give me time to run.
My arms get tired as I carry Evie in one and fire my weapon with the other. Thankfully, there is enough gunfire and explosions going off, that most of the greyskins don’t notice me and Evie. Inside the walls, I can see that there are a lot of buildings all around us, but at the center, there is a very large building where, undoubtedly, Shadowface is staying. I feel compelled to go there, but I don’t know what I will do if I make it. I don’t know the way to the sewers where my sister is headed, and I can’t go in there with Evie. She will be killed. I scan the area for any sign of Gabe, Mike, or Jenna, but I see none of them. I feel slightly hopeful when I see Derek, but sickened when I see that he’s limping away from a group of greyskins, unable to run fully. He’s too far away for me to do anything about it even if I wanted to. His gimpy leg gives out and he falls to the ground helplessly. He tries to put up a fight by firing into the group that’s about to converge on him, but he only drops one or two of them. The first one grips his leg, biting deeply. Another his stomach. Another his neck. Because of me, Derek can’t get away.
The guilt lasts only a second, however. I don’t have time to think about it. I hold Evie tightly and run toward one of the nearer buildings, hoping to take my chances with enemy combatants rather than greyskins. At least a chest shot would drop a soldier—for a greyskin I have to shoot through the brain.
When I get to the front door, of course it’s locked. I turn my head away, pointing my gun at the lock and firing. With a kick, the door swings open and I’m met by two of Olivia’s soldiers. I lift my gun to fire but not before one of them lets off a round. My gun goes off splitting one soldier’s head wide open, but I’m blinded by the pain in my leg. I fall to the ground and Evie tumbles from my arms. I don’t have time to think about the pain—no time to scream out. I lift my gun up again and pull the trigger three times, the second soldier getting it in the chest before he falls down dead.
Now I scream as the pain shoots up and down my leg. The pistol falls from my grip and I reach for my bleeding thigh. My head is swimming from the pain and noise. Evie cries out, wailing loud enough for greyskins from all around to hear her, no doubt.
“Evie,” I say. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.” I end the sentence with a loud groan as I shift, trying to maneuver towards her. She sits next to one of the dead soldiers, big tears rolling down her cheeks.
Blood drips from my leg, pooling out on the ground like a watering hose left unattended. I’m losing blood quickly, and if I don’t stop it soon, I might die.
“Evie, look at me,” I say, trying to sit up straight. “Can you be a big girl and walk next to me?”
She stops crying enough to look up at me and nod.
“Good,” I say. “We will walk together.” I point to a door on the other side of the room. “Through there is a hallway. Just stay with me, okay?”
Evie nods again.
It takes everything in me not to scream when I get to my feet. I wish Evie was a couple of feet taller so I could use her as a crutch, but I’m just going to have to grit my teeth and limp, else we’ll be discovered in here eventually.
With one hand, I hold Evie’s little fingers. In the other, I grip to my pistol tightly. Each step I take feels like someone is running over my leg with a truck, and for a second, I think I’m going to pass out. When we get to the door on the other side of the room, I open it just a crack, looking for any sign of soldiers. But most of them must have been cleared out of the buildings in order to help defend against Jeremiah’s assault.
I’ve got to find a way to stop the bleeding. If I don’t I will die, and Evie will wind up in someone else’s hands. It’s up to Waverly to ch
ange the future tonight, but it’s up to me to keep Evie alive—the backup plan. I squeeze her hand gently and look down at her.
“You doing okay, kid?”
She doesn’t really acknowledge me, but she’s not crying either. I guess that’s something.
The man stands in the corner. He thinks he’s out of sight and he has no idea that I’m coming up behind him. This hallway is narrow, and under normal circumstances, he would hear me coming, but he’s too focused on what’s happening outside the window. He watches hundreds of greyskins storming his comrades. He’s the smart one, trying to stay indoors away from the herd. But he’s not being careful enough. He doesn’t even realize Evie and I are standing behind him until he feels the end of my pistol press against the back of his head.
“Drop your weapon,” I tell him.
There is a loud clank as the gun hits the tiled floor.
“I’m in need of medical attention,” I tell him. “I’ve been shot and I’m bleeding heavily. I need a knife, gauze, and alcohol. Take me to it.”
“There’s nothing like that in this building,” the man says nervously. His eyes still taking in the commotion outside. “We’d have to go to the next one over for that.”
“Take me to it,” I say.
“We’ll die,” he says.
“I’m dying anyway,” I say. “And if you refuse again, you will die anyway. Otherwise, you still have a chance. What’ll it be?”
The man swallows, his fingers shaking in the air. “Follow me,” he finally says.
Evie still holds tightly to my hand as the man leads us down another long hallway. At the end, I can see a door that leads to the outside. Just across the street is the building he plans to take me to, though he’s right, the way is littered with greyskins and people shooting at each other. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to take Evie out there. What if she’s killed? But I can’t just leave her here alone.
The man hesitates as he reaches the door. None of the commotion has let up, but I’m sure to press the gun against his head again. This prompts him to open the door.
“We must be quick,” he says.
“Then go.”
The pain in my leg is beyond throbbing when I reach down and pick Evie up. The man opens the door, and we find ourselves out in the middle of the road, the street lights illuminating the hungry greyskins as they surround us. One head shot. Two head shots. A third. Everything is a blur, and when we get to the other side of the road, I’m not entirely sure how it happened. With so many explosions, gunfire, and screams, I guess there is no reason for the greyskins to focus on us. The man darts into the next building with me following closely behind. He stops in the hallway, breathing like he just ran a marathon.
“Where do I need to go?” I ask, pointing the gun at his head again.
“You don’t have to threaten me,” he says. “I will help you.”
“The bullet is still in my thigh,” I say. “I have to get it out.”
“Come on,” he says. “There’s a medical room just down this hall on the left.”
I limp toward him down the hallway. He can sense my urgency, and he walks a fast pace—almost too quickly. With every limp I feel like I lose a pint of blood. I’m starting to feel weak and lightheaded. I don’t know if I’ll be able to go on for much longer. But what does this all mean? How does this play out?
The man goes into a room down the hall. I don’t like being this far behind him. I take cautious steps when I come near the door and when I get into the doorway, I’m blindsided as the man slams the door against my shoulder. Evie falls from my arms again, and I go down with her.
I lay in the middle of the hallway, the pistol free from my hands. I can’t find it. I don’t know where it is. The man is suddenly on top of me. Instinctively, I reach out and grab his wrist even before I see the knife in his hands. He tries to stab me, but I’ve got just enough strength to hold him off for a second. His face forms into a grimace as he lies on me, our hands shaking in two struggles—one fighting for death, the other trying to escape it.
I close my eyes, trying everything I can to push upward. I wish I were as strong as this man—no, I wish I was stronger. I want the ability to turn the knife around on him to stab him through the neck. But that strength isn’t in me, and I am forced to relent to his will. My death.
I can feel the tip of the knife touching my neck. For me to give up just a little will mean death. I can’t give up. Not yet. Then, I hear my name. Someone is shouting it from down the hallway. I don’t recognize the voice immediately, but I hear the sound of gunfire and feel the man’s weight lifted off of me in an instant. Someone has just saved my life, but I don’t know who.
When I open my eyes, my head is looking toward Evie. She’s on the ground, crying. Poor girl doesn’t know what to think. This is why I never wanted to bring her. I never wanted her to go through these things. Past her, the man that was trying to kill me lies dead on the ground.
Who was my savior? Who shot him? I turn my head, and look up. I barely feel alive, so at first I think I’m hallucinating—maybe a dream…or a nightmare. But the pain lets me know that I’m not sleeping.
The man above me isn’t looking at me. Instead, he’s looking at Evie with big tears in his eyes.
Paxton.
I expected Paxton to kill me, but he didn’t. Instead, he helped me into the medical room, dug the bullet out of my thigh with a sterilized knife, patched me up, and tried to make me feel better. I couldn’t understand it.
“I saw you running through the streets with a girl in your arms,” he says as we sit in the medical room. He looks at Evie. She sits in a chair quietly, acting shy of her grandfather. “So this her?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say. “Don’t touch her. She doesn’t know you.”
“I know,” he says, dipping his head. “It’s just…surreal. She looks so much like my Jessi.” Tears drip down his face as he stares at her. “I miss her, you know?”
“You have to forgive me for feeling a little bit distant,” I say, “but last time I saw you you were trying to kill me.”
“Time changes things,” he says. “Experiences change things. When I came after you, I was a man that served a Shadowface. Now, I’m just a man that’s dying.”
“Dying?” I say.
He nods and sits up a bit straighter, pulling at his collar to reveal a long row of three scratch marks on his upper chest.
“Are those greyskins scratches?” I ask.
“Yes.”
My eyes go wide with horror. “You dressed my wound! You might have infected me!”
“Relax,” he say, holding up his hands. “Look at me. I’m not bleeding. There is no danger to you. Besides, I was sure to keep my hands away from your wound. Only the knife or a cloth touched you. My skin never touched yours, though that wouldn’t infect you. I was cautious. I knew if I told you, you would be scared.”
I want to say something else, but I don’t know what. He’s probably right, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. I’d much rather die from bleeding to death than from the greyskin virus. But perhaps I’m overreacting. I take a few deep breaths and look at Evie. I can’t read her right now. She seems to be in a daze—not happy or unhappy. She sits here having no idea that she is with her grandfather. I’m not so sure it shouldn’t stay that way.
“So, why are you here?” I ask.
“The meeting,” Paxton says. “I’m one of thirty settlement leaders here to meet with whoever this Shadowface person is.”
“So, you never figured out who Shadowface was?” I ask.
Paxton shakes his head. “The meeting was cancelled, or I guess postponed on account of this greyskin crisis. I was one of many who thought it was a ploy to show us his power, but it has apparently turned into much more than that. And you…” he says. “I suppose you have something to do with the attack.”
“I’m just trying to protect Evie,” I say.
“We both know that isn’t true,” he says. �
�You came knocking on my door about a month ago asking me to join you in a fight against Shadowface. I know you’re part of the attack.”
“And you said you were going to help us, but instead you betrayed us,” I answer.
“Why are you fighting Shadowface?” he asks.
“It’s a shame you’ve been infected, Paxton. There would be so much to tell you. For instance, Shadowface is a woman named Olivia. She ordered someone to use the greyskin virus so she could create this empire. You, Paxton, are just one of thirty pawns. And thirty would turn into much more.”
“But she didn’t create the virus?” he asks.
“No.”
“Do you know who did that?”
I was actually hoping he wouldn’t ask me this question. What’s worse—working with the person who uses the greyskin virus, or working with the one that created it? Though the justification lies in the fact that we’re trying to kill both of them.
“A man named Jeremiah,” I say. “That’s all I really know. But he’s not currently the one with all the power.”
“What was this Olivia planning to use us for?” he asks.
“Her own power. She is a corrupt leader. She lies, murders, and employs murderers for her gain. Why would we have a leader like that?”
“You’re ignorant if you think a leader should be pure and righteous,” Paxton says. “Sometimes leaders have to get their hands dirty because there is no other way.”
“You know all about that, don’t you?”
“I know I mistreated you in the past,” he says. “I’m sorry for that.”
Banishment. Fear. Death. These are the things Paxton has attempted to bring me in the past. How can a simple sorry make up for it?
“You know something, Paxton?” I say. “I’ve dreamed about killing you.” I hold my pistol tight in my grip, though I don’t point it at him.
Paxton’s expression doesn’t change. Instead, he looks solemn. “I suppose then that you are happy that I’ve been scratched.”
“I don’t wish that on anyone,” I say. “Personally, I’m glad I don’t have to kill you.”
Into the Shadows Page 21