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The Girl Who Punched Back: The Death Fields

Page 13

by Angel Lawson


  Her attention snaps to him, because you know, enhanced hearing or whatever it is Jane’s done to her.

  “Hey, brother,” she says, with a creepy smile. Even under the weird cap the Hybrids wear, I spot her shaved head. “Surprised to see you out here.” She looks between the two of us. “Or not, I guess. I told your sister putting you two together was a bad idea. Two smart but paranoid brains together is a recipe for trouble. Although the emotional connection you share could lead to stupid decisions, you know, like getting caught.”

  “What are you doing out here?” Cole asks, ignoring her tirade. “You shouldn’t be out here.” His eyes search her head—looking for the scar. There’s nothing but smooth perfect skin.

  “I’m fine!” She waves her free hand like she’s offering herself up for display. “Better than ever, actually.”

  “Or crazier than ever,” I mutter.

  Cole, still stunned, asks, “But how?”

  “Jane healed me and more. Then she offered me a position with her elite team to test my new abilities. She needed someone with a specific skill set and innate knowledge of any threats to her programs.” She eyes us all knowingly, but settles her gaze on Wyatt, like she’s drinking him up like water. “Unlike some people, I didn’t bite the hand that fed me, and accepted the offer.”

  “You’re working for her?” Cole asks.

  She tilts her head to the side and a small grin twists on her lips. “Aren’t you?”

  “Hell no,” Jude answers for all of us.

  “Well that changes things.” She flips the compound bow off her shoulder and points it at the ground. “My orders were to bring you back here for some reeducation on the true mission of The Director and PharmaCorp—clearly there has been some misunderstandings. Director Ramsey is willing to overlook those if you’re all still committed to the team. If you’re not, then my orders change significantly.”

  I roll my eyes, because really, the theatrics are a bit much. “So, what? You’re going to kill us?”

  Again, she replies with a deranged smile. It’s a signal of how much Chloe has changed—how much this person in front of me is not the friend I had. Not the sister Cole knew. The light in her eye is wrong. The color of her skin is off. My sister is playing games in a way I realize will backfire, on all of us.

  “The fence behind you is the final wall of the safe zone. The gate is right there. Beyond it is the Death Fields, unchecked territory. The Director feels like you should know your choice. You can stay here for reeducation, or you can leave.”

  “That’s it? We can just walk out of here?” I ask, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  “Did you hear what I said?” she asks. “The Eaters have not been culled outside of here. In fact, their numbers grow daily. There’s no guarantee of fresh water or food. People have resorted to violence and more.”

  “Great,” Davis speaks up from down the line. “When can we go?”

  I can’t keep the smile off my face. Maybe I’m the one that’s deranged.

  Without warning, gunshots crack through the night and we all duck on instinct. Well, everyone but Chloe. A menacing growl rattles from behind me, not the angry grunts the Hybrids emit, but the feral pained screams of the infected. I spin on my heel. Dirty fingers clench the fence and the spider-webbed eyes of an actual Eater are on the other side.

  Great. Eaters on one side and Hybrid soldiers on the other. Oh, and a former friend turned maniacal enemy. This day couldn’t be more perfect.

  A scream penetrates the night and one of the soldiers standing near the fencing is caught by the neck, an Eater biting down to spread the infection. It won’t work, but from the blood gushing down his neck, he’s not gonna survive anyway.

  “Fall back!” Chloe shouts and the soldiers follow her directions as gunshots continue to fly overhead. A skirmish breaks out to my left where Wyatt head butts a Hybrid, knocking him to the ground. He drops, using his bound forearm to press against the neck, rendering him unconscious. He looks at the soldier’s discarded weapon wistfully.

  “Run,” I say to Cole, but he’s still staring after his sister. I give him a hard nudge and a bullet zings overhead. “Cole…do this for me. We’ll come back for her but we can’t do that if we’re dead.” He glances down and nods, recognition sparking in his eyes. We dart under the shots, hoping not to get hit in the fray. We stop next to a small brick building, crouching in the shadows.

  “What the hell was that?” I ask, trying to catch my breath. “When did Jane do that to her?”

  His whole body tremors, from rage or fear. I’ll take that as an answer of “I don’t know.”

  “We’ve got to get these binds off,” I tell him, just as Wyatt careens our way. He must have seen us run this direction. Thank God.

  “Where are the others?” I ask.

  “Scattered. Here, reach in my boot,” he says, rain water dripping down his face. “The left one.”

  On my knees, I feel around blindly until my fingers swipe against hard metal in a tiny sheath. With two fingers, I work the object out. Wyatt grins when he sees it. “Press the tiny button on the side. It’s sharp, be careful.”

  He leans forward and tells Cole to give an assist. Still glazed over, he jumps in to give me step by step instructions since I can’t see. Slowly, I move the knife back and forth against the plastic binds.

  “Jesus, how many people does it take to cut a zip-tie, right?” I joke, trying to keep focused on my task and not on the battle just outside my view. The plastic gives way and Wyatt rips his hands apart. He snatches the blade from me, releasing me and Cole both in a blink.

  Wyatt’s eyes are wild and searching. He stops at the sloping metal railing on the back steps. In a quick move he kicks the metal until it bends and snaps, scattering pieces on the ground. He tosses a length to each of us.

  Cole snatches his and runs to the edge of the building, pipe ready.

  “We need to get out of here,” he says.

  “No shit,” I reply. I’m still hurt and confused by Wyatt’s actions when we escaped. I pause and say, “Whose side are you on, Wyatt?” He glances at me and I can already tell he’s going to dismiss me, but I grab him by the shirt. “Answer me.”

  Something flickers in his eyes, pain maybe, but I don’t release my grip. His hand moves to my chin and he says, “Six months ago I would have said I don’t take sides.”

  “And now?” The howls become louder—closer. He looks in the direction of the Eaters.

  “Now I just want to stay alive and keep you alive so I can answer that more definitively.”

  I clench my fingers in his shirt, feeling my heart buzz in my chest. I want to say something in return—do something—but Cole rushes over and shouts, “The gate is swarmed!”

  Wyatt quickly drops his fingers from my chin.

  “What about everyone else?” I ask, dragging my gaze from Wyatt.

  “I can’t see anyone out there. It’s too crazy.”

  “You two need to find a way to the other side of the fence—then run like hell. Find shelter,” Wyatt says.

  “And what are you going to do?” I ask, but he’s already in action, slipping around the corner toward the fray.

  I don’t like it. I don’t like anything about it, but I link my fingers with Cole’s and tug him away from Wyatt. Away from the fighting.

  Or, at least, that’s what I try to do.

  Instead, we run around the other side of the dark building just in time to see the fence fall and a massive swarm of Eaters pour across the muddy field.

  Chapter 27

  I grip the inadequate steel bar between my slick, damp fingers and race to the fence. It’s stupid. Suicidal, even. But we have little choice.

  “Do not leave my side,” I bark at Cole. I can’t lose him, too.

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  Him, I believe.

  The Hybrids are gone, other than the dead bodies scattered here and there on the ground, most surrounded by the infected looking to s
pread their disease. An Eater rushes toward me, clothes tattered and dirty, limping on one leg. I move fast, cramming the bar through its neck, severing the spine. It falls in a slump to the ground.

  I yank the bar back out with a slurping sound and try not to gag.

  “I need a better weapon,” I say to no one in particular.

  Cole grunts, bashing an Eater in the face until its head caves in the center. Dark blood pours out to the ground. The bar breaks in two.

  He wipes his forehead and drops the broken pieces on the ground.

  “Come on,” he says, gesturing toward the remains of a Hybrid. Before we reach the body, two Eaters charge, racing with trademark rage and hunger. Cole dives across the slick ground, sliding across the muddy grass. In the dim light I see the glint of metal just out of fingers’ reach. It’s a gun.

  Using all the force I can muster, I shove my bar through one of the Eater’s eyes, twisting and gouging all the way to the brain. Leaving him, I kick a leg out, tripping the second monster. He falls with a sprawl on Cole, who’s crawling toward the gun.

  “Ahhhhh!” I race over and kick the Eater in the face, right in the teeth. But he’s determined, jaws snapping with an earsplitting scream. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” I yell over and over, each one punctuated with another kick. Cole reaches the gun and rolls on his back, shooting one and then another now alerted to our presence.

  “Alex!” he shouts and throws me a heavy, sword-like blade. It lands in the dirt but I snatch it up quickly, using it across the next Eater’s throat.

  His head--seconds before his body--falls with a thud to the ground.

  “So Jane gives the Hybrids better weapons than the rest of us?” I roll my eyes. “Thanks a lot, sis.”

  We resume fighting, trying desperately to get closer to the fence line, but the infected keep coming. I’m wiping blood off my hand when I spot a flash nearby, followed by the sound of bones crushing. Davis stands over the dead shell, making a face at the sludge on his boot.

  “Nice one,” I say with a grin.

  Moments later, Jude and Parker appear, fighting their own battles with scavenged weapons. That just leaves two unaccounted for, but I push the thought out of my head. It won’t matter if I’m dead, too.

  At some point, we shuffle into a group-defensive position, back to back to back. Unfortunately, the Eaters aren’t idiots, no matter how much I wish they were, and they circle around us.

  “Guys…” Parker says, her voice wobbling with defeat.

  “Keep fighting,” Davis barks, but I glance over quickly and see the rifle in his hand quiver. As if by some signal the Eater howls grow, louder and more feral, until it reaches a volume that sounds more like the roar of a train.

  I stare at the one directly across from me, watching his gaping mouth. Focused on his stringy hair and worn T-shirt frayed at the hem, I try to picture where he came from, who he was, but all I hear is that awful, terrible sound ricocheting through my brain. Even when he takes off, I don’t move. I’m hypnotized, standing, staring…completely exhausted.

  I’m like a statue as he and the others launch at the same time, flying through the air in a scramble. I hear gunfire around me, the swish of blades, the thwick of an arrow.

  My sword lays still by my side.

  The Eater licks his lips, drool oozing down his chin; he’s close, so close, and the sound—the roar—is even louder. The wind blows hard, whipping my hair into a frenzy, and I glance upward just as the Eater is two feet away—just as a body crashes into him, expertly taking him down using just hands and feet.

  Like a ninja. But it’s not Wyatt fighting the Eater.

  It’s Paul.

  A voice cuts through. “Alex! Move!”

  I snap out of my trance and the world around me is spinning. No, literally spinning, like the blades of a helicopter. An actual helicopter is overhead; a rope tumbles to the ground through the door. Paul finishes off the Eater with a quick snap of his neck, and the swarm scatters from the sound and harsh winds. A bright light washes over us and I cover my eyes to see.

  “What the hell?” Jude asks, but bodies jump from the opening and spread out—guns facing outward—toward the Eater threat. Not at us. Another person descends the ladder. I, along with the others, hold my weapon at the ready, keeping a bead on whoever it may be. Because who has a freaking helicopter during the apocalypse? Other than my sister, who I suspect has not sent help.

  Halfway down, my question is answered when I see the uniform. Army green, not black.

  He smiles when he gets to the bottom and spots me.

  “Erwin,” I declare with an exhale.

  “Ms. Ramsey, pleasure to see you again.” He glances around at my battered team. “Looks like you could use a little help?”

  Every inch of me wants to say no, to tell him to screw off, because I sure as hell don’t trust him. But the Eaters howl in the distance.

  “Alex.” Cole steps toward me. “What do you want to do?”

  I look at the others. They’re all on their last legs, starving and exhausted. Each one is bruised. I sigh. “What’s that saying? Out of the frying pan, into the fire?”

  I start to laugh, because God, what is wrong with me, but Cole nods at Erwin and waves the others toward the ladder. Jude and Parker go up first, shaky on the wobbly rope ladder but Davis follows, and then Paul (Paul!) and Cole. Erwin waits for me at the bottom.

  “You’ll see this is the right decision,” he says.

  I grunt but search the area. Panic tugs in my gut. “Wyatt’s not here.”

  The General stares at me for a minute and says, “Don’t worry about that one. He can take care of himself.”

  I climb upward, the wind shaking the ladder with every step.

  Cole notices I’m the last one other than Erwin and his men. He snakes his arms around me and whispers in my ear that Wyatt will be okay. I’ve little choice to believe him. To believe Erwin, although the accusing looks from Jude and Parker don’t make me feel so great.

  It’s not until the helicopter starts moving and I’m surrounded by the sprawled bodies of my friends that I allow myself to really breathe. Not because I’m safe. Not because I trust Erwin, but because now we may have the power we need to stop my sister.

  Alexandra’s story continues in The Girl Who Kicked Ass, Book 3 of The Death Fields Series. Read below for a sneak peek at the first section of The Girl Who Kicked Ass!

  Please keep up with my books and news 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.

  The Girl Who Kicked Ass

  The Death Fields

  Book 3

  Chapter 1

  Schwoop, schwoop, schwoop…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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