The Girl Who Punched Back: The Death Fields

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The Girl Who Punched Back: The Death Fields Page 12

by Angel Lawson


  “Hi,” I say, hoping it doesn’t come out in a squeaky panic. I do not look at the dumpster or back at Davis.

  “Hey.” She eyes me warily. The sweat trickling down my forehead can’t make her feel better about my health. “I heard you were in high security quarantine. Did they release you?”

  “Yep. Just got out.” I force a laugh. “Thank goodness. I was going a little stir crazy.”

  “I bet.” She walks past me, opens the lid of the dumpster and drops the garbage in with a thud. After making a face at the smell wafting out she pushes back her hair she says, “Things are a little weird around here right now anyway. Have you heard?”

  “About what?”

  “They’ve been searching all the buildings—even the ones under quarantine. I think they’re looking for someone.”

  “Weird.” I fight the reddening of my cheeks with little success. “I wonder who?”

  “Must be someone important. Maybe one of the survivors brought in for vaccination or something.” She gives me a long look and I wonder if I’m going to have to shoot her. My hand rests on my gun and she asks, “I was wondering if you’d seen Wyatt?”

  “You think they’re looking for Wyatt?”

  Crapcrapcrap.

  Her eyes widen. “What? No. I was just looking for him. Personally.”

  Of course she is. “Uh, no. I haven’t seen anyone since they let us out. I’m just, you know, taking a walk to get some fresh air.”

  Her nose wrinkles. “By the dumpster?”

  I shrug and offer a dramatic inhalation, but then fight off a gag. It really does stink out here.

  “Well if you do, let him know I’m looking for him and I’d, uh,” she smiles at me knowingly, “like to continue on with our conversation from yesterday.”

  Yesterday? He was flirting with her (or more) while we were all stuck down in that hole? Packing everything up? I start to give a sharp retort when I come to my senses and simply reply, “Sure. I’ll let him know.”

  She moves away from the dumpster, hesitating like she’s waiting for me to come with her but I wave her off, mumbling about that fresh air I crave and stretching my legs.

  “I’ll tell Wyatt to find you, though. Definitely.” She smiles again and walks back toward the buildings. I take a few steps around the other side of the dumpster hoping no one else spots me, and then dart behind it when Ashley is out of sight. From there it only takes a few seconds to get through the gate and get swallowed whole by the forest.

  I see a scrap of fabric tied to a branch and follow it until I see Wyatt and Jude, alert and ready in the forest. Relief is written all over their faces.

  “What took so long?” Wyatt asks.

  “Your girlfriend stopped me.”

  “Girlfriend?” he asks.

  Parker looks between us, but I just roll my eyes and jab Jude in the side with my elbow as he barks a nervous laugh. It’s only a few minutes more when Cole appears, pale-faced, like he’s being chased by the devil himself. Paul and Davis appear before I can ask him what happened. Paul is no longer on his feet, he’s slung over Davis’ shoulder.

  “Let’s go,” the fighter says, not stopping and heading through the woods. No one questions him, running to keep up. Within minutes we’re in deep and I’m totally lost, but I also hear something, like a barking sound.

  “What was that?” Parker struggles to get the question out since we’re running.

  “A dog?” I suggest.

  Other barks join in, forming a chorus.

  “Are they after us?” I ask.

  “Definitely,” Wyatt says, picking up his pace. “They know we’re out here.”

  “Already?” We didn’t buy any time at all. I stumble over a tree root but Cole grabs my pack and yanks me upward before I fall. I shoot him a relieved smile, before turning back to Wyatt and asking, “How?”

  Without looking at me he says, “Because we let them know.”

  *

  We emerge from the forest and Wyatt leads us directly to Hayes, who’s waiting next to a tarp-covered lump on the side of the road. The dogs are nearby, making all of us move faster than normal but the veteran Fighters move extra fast, revealing a military grade truck and then helping Paul and Cole into the back.

  “Get under that,” Davis says, pointing to a heavy olive green tarp.

  “What about the others?” Paul asks before he’s covered. It’s as though he just realized we left the other school survivors behind.

  When no one else replies I say, “They’ll buy us some time.”

  The expression on his face tells me exactly how insensitive he thinks I am for saying that, but God knows if that’s even the truth. Wyatt tipped off the Fighters we were escaping. The dogs are close enough that I can hear their feet on the fallen leaves covering the forest floor. There’s no time to hash it out, though. Wyatt is quietly giving out orders and there’s nothing to do but follow them.

  “You two—get in the front,” he yells.

  “Good luck,” Hayes says, disappearing into the woods. I’m not sure how he’ll escape the dogs on foot, but I can’t worry about that right now.

  Parker and I squeezed into the cab while Davis and Jude took point in the back, trying desperately not to step on anyone. The first dogs, of all breeds and sizes, emerge from the forest just as Wyatt shifts the truck into gear and peels out into the road.

  “That was close,” Parker says, craning her head to look out the window.

  “Too freaking close,” I agree. “They’ll follow us, right? Or is that what you wanted all along? I don’t get what’s happening here, Wyatt. Care to enlighten us?”

  His hands grip the wheel and his foot is mashed on the gas. The road we’re on is some sort of back road, nothing but trees and the occasional building. The compound can’t be far away geographically—I just don’t know what’s going on, and my head aches from the stress.

  “Seriously? You’re not going to answer any of that?” I ask.

  “I’m driving, Alex—trying to get us in the clear. I don’t have time to talk you through this right now. I am trying not to get everyone back at that base killed. If they thought we were still on the compound, they’d blow the whole thing, including civilians and the other Fighters to hell and back!”

  “I thought maybe we were going to approach this as a team—you know, since I brought you most of the Intel—,“ Wyatt takes an approaching curve without slowing. I’m shocked into silence as I cling to the seat to stay upright. Parker’s hips crash into mine. “So don’t treat me like a—, “The words catch in my throat a second time and Parker grabs my arm, pointing out the window.

  Wyatt lets off the gas and mutters a curse under his breath.

  That army we’re running from?

  They’ve formed a wall in front of us and are blocking the entire two-way street.

  Chapter 25

  I don’t know how many there are, but it’s definitely more than the seven of us. They’ve created a barricade—a check point, it looks like, between overturned vehicles. The soldiers I can see have on a similar Fighter uniform, but they have on hat—sort of like a baseball cap.

  One walks in our direction. His weapon is drawn but there’s no signal he’s nervous. Why would he be? We’re sitting ducks.

  Wyatt rolls down his window as the soldier approaches. Under his breath he says, “Let me talk. Stay quiet.”

  The closer the soldier gets, the more I’m convinced that maybe he’s one of the good guys. He looks like all the other men that have been processed through The Fort. A little thin, but healthy enough. There’s no anger on his middle-aged face. Just the same lines we’ve all formed over the last year.

  “Morning,” he says, lowering his weapon slightly at the sight of Wyatt’s raised hands. The name Taylor is stitched over his heart. “Where are you headed?”

  “Salvage run,” Wyatt replies. “My commander got word there’s a distribution plant about thirty minutes south. We’re going to check it out.”

/>   He peers into the truck and then leans back to get an eyeful of Davis and Jude, both sitting calmly on the tailgate. During all of this, I notice four other soldiers have flanked us, guns at the hip. Again no one seems flustered, just cautious. Maybe Wyatt can talk us through.

  “This area just went under lockdown. We’ve been given orders not to let anyone in or out.”

  Wyatt’s jaw tenses. “When did this happen?”

  “About thirty minutes ago—must have been right after you left.”

  “Huh,” Wyatt says. “This puts me in an awkward position. I report directly to the commander. I don’t think she’d want me to abort this mission.”

  “Who’s your commander?” Taylor asks. Everything about him is calm and collected except I spot one thing; a tiny, erratic twitch next to his left eye.

  Wyatt hesitates before he answers, because what comes next is a full lie. One that could have blowback and not just on us. “Walker.”

  “Walker doesn’t have ranking over this one. You’ll need to turn back.” Taylor gives him a hard stare. He lifts his arm and rests his hand on the door of the cab. That’s when I see them. Purple stripes, like an officer would wear, on his shoulder.

  Fear washes over me and I glance at the other soldiers and try to see if they have them, too. Ugh. Crap.

  I use my close proximity to Wyatt to pinch him, hard, on the thigh as he negotiates with Taylor.

  Taylor, the hybrid-Eater/human soldier.

  Wyatt inhales sharply but doesn’t even look my way. Fine. I can handle this. In one quick move, I pull my gun out of my boot, cock the trigger and lean over Wyatt.

  The instant the bullet explodes out of the chamber Taylor’s face and demeanor transforms. His reflexes are fast, and he dodges out of the way. Wyatt swears, shocked by the excruciating sound so close to his head, while revving the engine. I shoot at Taylor again as gunfire erupts from the back of the truck. I miss.

  “Go! Go!” I scream, but hybrids swarm our way from the checkpoint. I guess I thought I understood what Jane had created—at least in my mind, but seeing it, God. The apocalypse just got a whole lot worse.

  They truly are half human-half eater. Dark eyes and veiny necks. Rage vibrates off their bodies but they’re in control of their movements. They can wield weapons. They’re fast, agile, and strong.

  The passenger door rips open, the hinges creaking from the force, and I watch Parker being wrenched from the vehicle.

  “No!” Jude shouts, jumping from the back of the truck, firing his gun at her attacker. He gets the drop on him, a dark hole marking his successful shot as the Hybrid falls to the ground. Before either can react, they’re surrounded.

  “Lock the doors and get in the driver’s seat,” Wyatt commands, jumping out of his door, slamming it behind him.

  I lean over to secure the passenger door, catching a glimpse of Cole back to back with Wyatt, circled by a group of Hybrids. I grab the door handle but the spring hinges are busted.

  “Are you kidding?” I mutter to myself, but look up to see the feral face of a female Hybrid, as big as any man, pressing against the window, growling. Dropping my gun on the seat, I hold on to the door handle with both hands, but it’s no use, the metal is ripped from my hands, nearly taking my fingers with it. I watch, slack-jawed, as the door flies behind her like a metal Frisbee.

  Without hesitation she lunges into the cab, grabbing me by the ankles. I fight back, struggling to land a substantial blow. I kick her stomach and push against her chest, my gun jabbing me painfully and uselessly in the back. I kick again, missing her body, making contact with her own gun hanging from a holster at her side. She’d have to let go of me to get it. One shot at this proximity would be the end of either of us.

  “Who are you?” I snap. “Super Eater Woman?”

  She uses her monster strength to flip me over and my arms get loose. I use the opportunity to wiggle like a worm beneath her legs and escape.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” the woman says in a bizarre high-pitched voice. She pounces on me like a football. Gravel scrapes across my chin and she lands like a ton of bricks, quickly planting a knee firmly in my back. She grapples with my wrists, cutting my knuckles on the ground, and that’s when it connects.

  She’s not trying to kill me.

  She’s trying to capture me.

  F-ing Jane.

  Once my hands are bound, I’m out of the game. I hear Jude’s voice followed by the hard thud on the pavement. I crane my neck and find him in a similar position to my own, lip busted and bleeding on the road.

  With every last bit of energy I can muster I nod at Jude and struggle to my knees, hands bound tight behind my back. Once upright, I run.

  Just run.

  If they survive, Wyatt and Cole can track me. They’ve done it before, but I’m not letting Jane take me back in. No chance. She may not kill me, but whatever is waiting for me will be worse.

  The chaos of the battle leaves me unguarded, passing downed Hybrid bodies littering the edge of the road. The woods aren’t far away and I don’t dare look back. I race forward, headed for the tree line, the sound of fighting growing distant. The ground gives way from grass to pine needles. I step under the branches, the air cooler here, and keep going—that is until I run straight into something sharp and taut.

  I pull back, my shirt snagging on the jagged edges of a wire fence.

  “Are you for serious right now?” I shout to no one, maybe God, maybe just myself. “This is how it’s gotta be for Alexandra Ramsey? Just one nightmare after the other? Road block after oozing, bloody, road block? Give me a freaking break! That’s all I ask.”

  A stick snaps from behind me and I spin and look into the eyes of the bruised face of my attacker. She’s smiling, blood trickling down her chin. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice.”

  I stare at her evil, non-human eyes and weigh my options.

  “Screw you,” I say, followed with a glob of spit in her face.

  Her smile widens and I do the only thing I can: I run. This time, though, I’m barely two feet away when she knocks me to the ground. I see the tree root on the way down and feel my head crashing into the hard wood.

  I roll over, see her smug face, and the world turns black.

  Chapter 26

  I wake, sliding across a smooth stretch of floor, and crash into something hard and warm. My arms are bound uselessly behind my back, the room dark. My head aches and spins. I fight back a wave of nausea.

  The loud whine of hinges rockets through my brain, just as a bright light fills the room. I blink and see we’re not in a room, but the back of a long semi-truck. The hard, warm body I’m leaning against has a mop of blond hair and concerned blue eyes—Cole. His expression is a mixture of relief and worry as he checks me out with his eyes. From the awkward way he’s sitting, he must be bound, too. His face is bleeding but there’s no time to assess him further, because loud steps scurry over the metal floor and I’m being dragged out by my feet.

  I’m yanked to a standing position, feet slipping on wet gravel. A fine mist floats down from the sky, covering my skin and clothes. The others fall in line next to me. Wyatt’s tight jaw is visible in the glaring floodlights a couple people away, and from what I can see, it takes two soldiers to get Davis in position.

  A soldier with a rifle in his hands directs us to stand with our backs against a chain-link fence. Razor wire coils around the top. We seem to be in an expansive parking lot filled with massive storage containers and 18-wheelers. I don’t know the city of Augusta well, but if I had to guess, we were on the outskirts.

  “Where are we?” I whisper to Cole.

  “You were out for about thirty minutes. We were moving that whole time.”

  “Are we near The Fort?”

  He shakes his head, grimacing at the movement. “I don’t think so, but maybe still inside the safe zone?”

  I lean forward to look up and down the line, counting the broken and beaten members of our t
eam. Everyone is accounted for, even if Parker and Paul look like they’re barely standing.

  “Then—“

  “Quiet!” A solider interrupts us, standing in front of me. His face hovers inches from my own and I gag at the smell of his rancid breath. His eyes are dark—although not spider-webbed like a full-blown Eater. There’s a rage boiling beneath the surface, yet when his name is called by another soldier he jerks back like a puppet on strings. That’s when I realize I know him.

  It’s Hayes.

  That’s it. I’m done. Just done with this god-forsaken day.

  “You did this?” I ask, surprised but probably not as much as I should be. I’m also scared because from the change that’s taken him over, I realize he could snap my neck in a heartbeat.

  “I’m part of the future, Ramsey. Just like you could have been.” Once again, he’s called back and he dutifully follows orders.

  “What do you want?” I shout, thinking maybe we now have the attention of whoever is in charge of the group. “You’re obviously not going to kill us—we’d be dead already if those were your orders.”

  “Alex,” Cole hisses next to me.

  “Shut up,” Parker pleads.

  I don’t listen to either of them. “So what’s the plan? Take us to your secret lab and pump us full of parasites? Turn our brains into puppet mush?”

  A figure steps out of the darkness. Shoulders back, spine ramrod straight. Purple stripes on the shoulders of their uniform flash under the lights, but this person moves with a distinct calm. There’s a weapon perched against the soldier’s shoulder. Even in the foggy, wet light I can tell it’s a compound bow.

  “What’s this about secret labs and brains full of parasites?” A familiar voice rings out and I’m chilled to the bone. “It’s not a good idea to spread treasonous rumors during a time like this.”

  I’m shocked into stepping backwards, but there’s no escaping the reality of what’s happening. Cole’s knees buckle beneath him and I slide over to give him support.

  “Chloe?” he says, barely above a whisper.

 

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