The Girl Who Punched Back: The Death Fields

by Angel Lawson

  “Yes, actually. Cole and I would like a more active role with the vaccine, preferably with distribution. Jane told me I needed your approval.”

  His forehead creases and I’ve seen that expression before. He wore it when I asked to go to Myrtle Beach for spring break. Concern. Disapproval.

  FTR: I wasn’t allowed to go to Myrtle Beach.

  “To be honest, there’s little for you to do. Jane has a professional team set up to handle the matter. I think you’d be better off here.”

  I glance at Cole, who has gone quiet next to me. Inside, I’m boiling with anger. “So I’m good enough to be a mule for your super important, top-secret information, but I’m not good enough for anything else?”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “I’m eighteen. You can’t keep me from helping.” It’s a juvenile retort but whatever.

  He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “I appreciate what you did for me and your sister. For the world, really. Your actions gave us a shot at saving society. I shouldn’t have asked you to do it but I couldn’t trust anyone else and I didn’t have the time to recreate my trails.” He sighs. “That being said, I’m not eager to send you back out there. Can you imagine what your mother would say?”

  “Don’t,” I say, fighting the tears welling in my eyes, though what he says is rational and based on truth. My mother would never want me in danger, but she and I lived through something he’ll never understand. We changed. Neither of us were the people that my father left in that house in Raleigh. She was and I am stronger than either of us expected.

  “I’m sorry, Alexandra. Nothing I say here will be the right thing. Like I’ve said, I’ve already burdened you with too much.”

  Cole clears his voice and lays his hand over mine. He says to my father, “When you asked me to make sure Alex got here safely I was ready for the assignment. It became quickly apparent that your daughter was more than capable of handling herself out there. We all pushed through a lot of fear, anxiety and insurmountable challenges to get here. We did it, but it’s clear our mission isn’t over yet. You’ve kept me sidelined from the vaccination details since I got here, which is unfortunate since I have the experience and skill you need.” He looks at me. “Your daughter has a point. If we were able to succeed before, we should be a part of the future decisions and actions of PharmaCorp.”

  “Otherwise we’re leaving,” I blurt, playing the card I’ve held close to my chest. I ignore Cole’s protesting hand tightening around mine. “We’re not sheep.”

  My father leans back in his seat, looking more exhausted than ever. His eyes move to the glass window between his office and the lab—a signal he’s already taken too much time away from his work. He tosses his hands in the air and says, “Fine. Do what you want. You’re an adult and things are changing rapidly in our world. I won’t stop you from going.”

  “I promise I’ll be careful.”

  He gives me a slight smile and looks at Cole. “Follow me. I’ll brief you on the vaccine’s status and set you up in the lab.”

  I nod, urging him to follow. We need to know as much about this vaccine as possible. My sister’s confidence in her grand scheme gives me the feeling that there’s more going on than we know. Today will be the day we figure out what her plan is really all about.

  Chapter 8

  The change is immediate, from the knock on my door at 6 AM to the larger serving of food I get in the dining hall. The biggest difference is the way the other Freedom Fighters treat me. I’m officially part of the team.

  My father must have spoken to Jane, and then Jane must have notified Walker and the rest of the Fighters. I didn’t realize how exclusive the club was until I’d been made a member.

  “Ramsey,” a soldier says, approaching me as I shovel a spoonful of my dinner, a brown, mystery-meaty stew into my mouth. “You’re to report to the atrium in ten minutes.”

  “For what?”

  His face remains blank but I spot the twitch of annoyance in his jaw. The FF aren’t big into questions. I already know that from dealing with Wyatt and the others on the road.

  “Okay, fine. I’ll be there.” I cram the last piece of bread in my mouth.

  A small group has met at the desk in the front lobby and I join them just as Wyatt starts talking. He glances at his wide, fancy watch but says nothing if I actually am late. I guess if I thought Wyatt would treat me differently I was fooling myself. If anything he’s been a little more aloof than usual since he got me in to see my sister.

  “Each of you is a new recruit into the FF. We don’t have a lot of time as we should receive orders to set up the first vaccination clinic within a week but there are some things you need to know before going into the field. I’m going to take you down to the R&D department to get a fast training in some of our newer weapons.”

  “R&D?” someone asks.

  “Research and development,” he replies, already leading us to the stairwell.

  Another voice ahead adds, “We have an R&D department? Besides the lab?”

  We travel through a maze of hallways, including three security posts where Wyatt uses a magnetic key card to gain access. I study the others around me. Four women, six men. All appear sturdy and fit, varying in age from early twenties to maybe about fifty. I’m probably the youngest one but that isn’t a surprise. I’d forced myself onto this team.

  After a certain point I no longer have my bearings in the building. Is this on purpose? Did PharmaCorp hide the R&D area away from prying eyes? Knowing they’d created the E-TR virus in the first place doesn’t encourage confidence in what we’ll find. My sister did create and release the virus as a weapon, after all.

  “I know you,” a voice says besides me. “From the recovery team?”

  I glance over and recognize Jude, from the house we’d cleared last week. He’s a bit cleaner and filled out in the cheeks after a couple good meals. Plus he’s now in Fighter black and not redneck camouflage.

  “Jude, right?”

  “Yes.” He smiles. “It’s nice to see a familiar face. I mean, not that we know one another or anything, but…”

  “But perspectives change on that a little bit now so, yeah, I get it. How’d you end up on this team?” I ask, lagging back a little from the rest of the group.

  “To be honest, I don’t know. A dude in black fatigues showed up, handed me a uniform and told me to be in the atrium after dinner.” He rubs his chin. “I do have some experience hunting and using guns. I filled that out on my form when we got here and I’m pretty sure I passed whatever physical test they put me through.”

  I shake my head. “Sounds about right. They’re really into the super-top-secret here.”

  “It’s pretty impressive though—like right out of a sci-fi story. You know how in the movies they always are totally taken by surprise and the government fails left and right, unable to handle anything? Like we’re one step away from stumbling back to the middle ages? This place is the total opposite. It’s like they knew it was coming or something.”

  “Or something. Guess it pays to be paranoid,” I mutter, slowing my pace even more because Wyatt has stopped before a large, metal, sliding door. He slides his keycard through one more security box and the doors part in the middle, like rows of sideways teeth.

  We follow him inside and realize others are already here. The room is large and square. The floor is cement but there’s a padded, elevated ring in the middle, currently surrounded by cheering and shouting fighters. Two figures move around in the middle. The walls surrounding the ring are glass or Plexi-glass and I get an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  I march up to Wyatt. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Wyatt nods. “A sparring ring.”

  Someone in the ring crashes into the glass with a loud thud, the crowd roars and I look over, seeing nothing but shadowy movements.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” I say. “This is what you do for fun?”

  “It�
��s training, Alex. For outside.”

  Jude appears at my side. “This looks pretty awesome. What do I have to do to get a turn?”

  “The ring isn’t for us to practice fighting each other,” I tell Jude. “But if you want to get in with an Eater go for it.”

  His jaw, along with every other new recruit, drops when Wyatt doesn’t argue.

  “For real?” Jude asks.

  “They bring in the Eaters and test their weapons. Is that where Erwin got the idea? Or did you get it from him?” I blink back hot tears. I’d nearly seen Wyatt and Chloe get mauled to death in a similar cage at Fort Shaw. “God, you’re all the same. You’re all disgusting.”

  “Everyone that steps into that ring goes willingly. It’s not for punishment or manipulation. Erwin was on to something. It’s a good way to judge what works in a controlled environment. You know that.” He looks at Jude. “And no, you don’t have to fight an Eater, but it is an option. You can spar with anyone you want.”

  A bell sounds and the crowd erupts in cheers again. I look over despite myself. Two men leave the ring at the same time, tugging black gloves off their hands. They look bruised and battered but still alive.

  Everyone moves toward the ring and I’m left fuming on the side with Wyatt giving me a hard stare, jaw tense.

  “This is bullshit, Wyatt.”

  “You’re being irrational.”

  “Am I? Is this who we’ve become?

  “Yeah, it is.” He steps closer. “It’s the freaking apocalypse out there, Alex. It’s gotten worse since we got here. Way worse.”

  “I’ve been out there, remember? It’s not that bad.”

  “You’ve been in cleared and swept areas. Controlled missions.” He’s not shouting but from the way the vein on his forehead pulses I can tell he wants to. “You wanted to be on this team and to help, but it may be the last thing you’ll do. Those Eaters…they’re changing. Mutating or something. They’re faster and meaner. The transition from human to monster happens nearly instantly—there’s no time for hesitation.” I hear the sliding of a heavy door across the room and the rumble of the fighters talking to one another. “We have to do this to stay alive and even then we’ll lose some people. Guaranteed.”

  “Then why? There has to be another way.”

  He shakes his head. “Saving humankind isn’t easy. The hard way is the only way the vaccination will ever get to the survivors out there.”

  I glance at the ring and see how the spectators are getting a little edgy. A shadowy movement catches my eye on the far side of the glass. Even from here I can tell he’s less than human. “So we practice killing Eaters.”

  “Yep.”

  I sigh and run my hand through my hair. “Just so you know, I still think this is an abomination.”

  He laughs low and dark. “I’m glad someone does.”

  *

  Wyatt’s right about one thing. I haven’t truly seen an Eater up close in a while. That much is obvious when I finally get an eyeful of the one barred to one side of the ring. It’s a woman, or was one…heavy now and then. Thick drapes of skin hang from her arms and belly. I know Eaters aren’t really dead, not exactly, but they certainly aren’t what they once were either. Not human for sure. Her eyes are black with spiderwebbing veins, her skin pale and deteriorating more than I’ve ever seen before. Her clothes, cotton pants and a T-shirt with a faded, dirty kitten on the front, are ratty and torn. One foot still has a tennis shoe. The other bare and dark with soil. Everything about her gives the impression she’s been out there for some time.

  She could be any of us.

  “God, she’s gross.” Jude says from his spot next to me. “Have you ever killed one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really?” He seems impressed. I just feel sick.

  “Yeah. What about you?”

  “Two.” He doesn’t look at me but there’s a familiar guilt—maybe shame—in his eyes. “I lived two blocks from Caroline’s house, the one you found us in. I haven’t spent much time out there at all.”

  “Lucky,” I say and give him a light punch on the arm. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “I’ve hunted since I was six. I’m a good shot. Not people, of course, but it does put a different perspective on things when you can compartmentalize.”

  There’s movement in the ring and I act aloof when the door slides shut behind the Fighter. I don’t know him personally—although I heard Davis call his name one time. Hayes. He’s dark-skinned. Either bald or his head is shaved so closely you can see the light reflect back. He’s lanky and lean, but the muscles under his shirt are taut and hard. The twist in my stomach tells me this is a terrible idea.

  “Ready?” a voice asks. The crowd is quiet. Jude bounces on his toes next to me.

  “Ready,” Hayes says, giving a quick nod. The metal gate dividing the ring in two lifts into the air and the Eater doesn’t hesitate, charging full speed at him.

  He moves fast, dodging her incoming speed, and I spot the weapon in his hand. He flips the spiked pipe like a baseball player in the dugout—a faint grin on his face.

  Her arms flail, and her teeth snap. In contrast to her wild behavior, her senses are honed. Her nostrils flare, her eyes narrow with the intensity of predator looking for prey.

  “Holy shit,” Jude declares under his breath.

  Hayes goes on the offense, kicking the Eater with his foot. She totters but doesn’t fall, lunging forward with a loud screech that echoes off the walls. He doesn’t dodge this this time, instead swiping her with his pipe. The spikes land in her shoulder but she doesn’t stop.

  “They don’t feel pain,” Wyatt says suddenly. I glance up, unaware he’d moved next to me. “They’ve been testing them. Thousands of tests. The screams are from hunger or some sort of reflex. Their nerve endings are fried from the infection. It’s one of the reasons they don’t stop.”

  “But they’re still alive.” The Eater slams into the wall, inches from where we’re standing. She hits the floor with a thud, a trail of slime down the glass.

  “I guess. Not dead. Not really alive.”

  “Can the vaccine help them?” I ask. Haynes stands over her body, one foot on her leg. He lifts the pipe and even though I turn my head I hear the blow hit her head. I hear the splatter of flesh against the glass. I grimace, holding back nausea while the rest of the fighters around me, including Jude, cheer.

  “No. It can’t help them.”

  A buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the fight. I peek at Hayes, dripping of sweat with arms raised in victory as he stands over the dead woman.

  Welcome to the apocalypse.

  Chapter 9

  On an impulse, I stop by Chloe’s room down in the medical floor on the way back from the fights. I pause in the doorway, taking a minute to gain composure. The scene I witnessed upstairs was disturbing. I get what Wyatt said, that it’s necessary, but it’s a level of violence I didn’t ever expect to be exposed to.

  On the other hand, I didn’t expect to see a friend like this. Chloe sits up in bed reading and for the first time she’s not wearing a bandage on her head from the bullet wound. It’s also the first time I’ve seen the scar, red and rippled against her temple. It’s healing though, which is good. So very good. Her curly blonde hair is still shorn from the surgery—shorter even than it was when they cut it.

  “New ‘do?” I ask, leaning against the door.

  She looks up and I spot the bright blue eyes identical to Cole’s. She runs a hand over the stubble on her head. “Yep. Decided to go for the Mad Max look, you know? Kick ass warrior.”

  “I like it.” If anything it makes her more beautiful.

  “Thanks.” She looks at the clock. “Seems a little late to be down here?”

  I shake my head, thinking of the fights I just watched. Wyatt had us sit through three, each one more nerve-wracking than the last. I can’t decide how I feel about using the Eaters for target practice. In one way it makes sense. It’s h
ard to understand the reality of actually fighting these monsters without firsthand experience. On the other hand, it’s just horrible. Awful.

  It’s reality.

  I keep this to myself, because the last thing Chloe needs to know while she’s trying to get healthy is that there’s an apocalypse-style WWE Smackdown in the basement.

  “On my way back from some training. Jane is letting me join the FF.”

  A line creases between her eyes. “The Fighters? You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. The vaccine is ready. I’m going to be on the inoculation team.”

  Her jaw drops. “Wow. Okay, I know you’ve wanted to do more, but are you sure? Sounds dangerous.”

  Chloe and I met when she and her brother saved me and Wyatt from a pack of Eaters trying to take us down on a boat in North Carolina. We were lucky they showed up with their compound bows and survival skills, because we were one second from being an apocalypse casualty. “Danger is my middle name.” I laugh. “You know that.”

  “When do you leave?”

  “Soon, I think. It’s all very hush-hush but I’m getting the feeling we may roll out at any minute.”

  “So you came to say goodbye?”

  I give her a sad smile. “I wish you could come with me.”

  “Me, too. I hate being cooped up in here.” She touches her head and the red, jagged scar. “I’m doing good, for being shot in the head, but sometimes it takes a minute for everything to…” She trails off searching for the word.

  “Process?”

  “Process. Right. It’s obnoxious. Like, the word is right there but I can’t…” she moves her fingers like she’s trying to catch something. I smile, hoping it’s not too sympathetic. Chloe is tough as nails, even with a bullet in her brain.

  Cole says the lingering effects of the bullet wound are mental not physical. Like the synapses in her brain stopped connecting or skip a link here and there. She’s working with a physical therapist (yes, Jane has those in The Fort) but progress is slow.

  “How does my brother feel about you leaving?”

  I sit on the edge of her bed. “I’m hoping he’ll come with me but he’s busy doing Lab Guy stuff. Saving the day, one microscope slide at a time.” I leave it at that. She doesn’t need to know she’s one of the reasons he’s sticking around.