Hunted (A Sinners Series Book 2)

by Abi Ketner

“Over here,” Bruno says. He’s in the closet, out of our view.

  Cole stops me for a second. He leans over and kisses Grace on the forehead. “Love you, girl.”

  “Love you,” Grace says back.

  Roméo leans out, and his face turns white. He drops the papers in his hands, but he doesn’t move an inch.

  My arms go weak. I start losing my grip, and Cole takes her from me, carrying her in to Bruno who’s rounding the corner of the closet into the main office. I lean against the doorframe to keep from falling. Bruno looks up and sees her. His eyes go wide as his mouth falls open.

  The world freezes.

  “Grace!” He darts to her, takes her from Cole, and collapses to the ground, holding her like a little child. And she looks like one, curled in his arms. Her skin’s developed a greenish undertone to its rich ebony, and her eyes flick open when she hears his voice. He pulls her shirt over and sees where she was shot. With a groan, he rocks back and forth as he shivers. He doesn’t even care that blood’s pouring over his arms and chest. “You’re going to be okay,” he says.

  “Honey—”

  “Stop. You’re not gonna die.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Grace says. Her voice comes out in a whisper, and I have to strain to hear what she says.

  “Cole, go find help!” Bruno says. Cole stands there and puts his hands on his head. “Now!” Bruno demands. Cole gives Bruno a slight head shake, his jaw twitching and his eyes glazed over.

  “There isn’t anyone,” I say through my ugly cry, stuck in the doorway, unable to move.

  “I’m begging you.”

  “Bruno, please … ” I say. “She needs you right now.”

  Bruno shakes his head, clenches his jaw, and looks down at Grace.

  Bill wraps his arms around me and guides me into the room. Then he turns around with his gun pointed toward the hallway in case guards decide to come. Even as he keeps watch, tears leak down his face. His gun shakes in his hands.

  Cole meets me and pulls me into him. I sob tears and snot all over his shirt. He holds me up as all my strength leaves me. I turn my head to the side to watch Bruno and Grace’s last minutes together.

  “Grace, don’t leave me.” Bruno’s voice cracks. “Not now, not like this.”

  Grace coughs for a few seconds before gaining enough oxygen to speak. “Bruno, there’s something … ”

  My stomach clenches. Cole’s labored breathing makes his chest shake. I brace myself for the words that are about to tear Bruno’s world apart.

  Grace lifts her hand and rests it on Bruno’s cheek. She strokes it with her thumb, and she blinks fast, her breathing increasing as the seconds speed by.

  “I didn’t tell you,” she whispers. “Because I didn’t want you to worry.”

  Bruno scrunches his forehead. “Tell me what?”

  Grace sobs, and tears spill over her face. “We’re having a son.”

  A gasp.

  Then stunned silence.

  Nothing could have prepared me for the sound that comes out of Bruno next. A heart-wrenching scream that can surely be heard miles away. The kind that slices you like a knife, creating a wound that will never completely heal. His shoulders shake uncontrollably, and I grip Cole’s shirt and cry so hard it feels like someone stuck a torch down my throat.

  There’s something about watching a man, a man with such physical strength, a man that has been nothing but a rock in all our lives, completely crumble before our eyes. Unhindered tears cascade down his defined cheekbones, over his jaw, and onto his clothes. He leans over her face, putting a hand on each side, opening and closing his mouth. Everything comes out as a groan.

  “I’m sorry,” Grace says.

  “You’re pregnant?” His voice breaks.

  “Yes.” Her breathing changes, and her voice weakens, getting softer with each word.

  He sits back and slams his teeth together while looking up at the ceiling. His muscles all tense in his face as he lets out an excruciating scream. Then he bends back over, sobbing.

  “This isn’t fair! I’m holding everything I’ve always wanted, and I … ” His tears fall onto Grace’s shirt and snot pours out of his nose. He gags on his words, unable to speak. He kisses her face, then lifts her hands to his lips and kisses them too. In between kisses, he cries and rocks on his knees. When he notices her silence, he hunches forward.

  “Don’t you give up on me, Grace. Don’t you dare do it. Fight, fight harder. For us, for our son.”

  But there’s no fight left.

  Grace’s eyes roll into the back of her head. I run toward her and fall to my knees on the opposite side of Bruno.

  “Grace,” I say. “Look at me.” She blinks a few times, and her tired eyes, her pained eyes, look into mine. “I’ll be back. I’m going to get help.”

  Desperate.

  I stand and turn around to sprint out the door, but Cole catches me before I make it two feet.

  “Let me go,” I say.

  “Lexi,” Cole says into my ear. “You know I can’t.”

  “Please.” I’m pounding on his chest, but he just squeezes me harder.

  “I’m sorry, but I won’t let you die, too,” he whispers.

  “She’s not dying.” But I know she is, and I cry into his shirt and almost suffocate myself. I have to turn my head to the side, and that’s when all hope melts away from Bruno’s face.

  “Lexi,” Grace says.

  I take a deep breath, and Cole holds my arm as I make my way back to her.

  When I’m with her, she takes my hand in hers. It feels like ice.

  No. No. No. No.

  “I’m here,” I tell her.

  “I want to tell you his name.” She coughs and gasps and coughs again.

  “Who?” I ask.

  “My son,” she says with her beautiful smile. “Christopher, after your father.”

  Stabbing pain in my chest.

  Wrenching pain in my heart.

  “Oh, Grace, thank you,” is all I manage to say as my shoulders shake like an earthquake. I crumble like a building being blown to bits. My head falls into the crook of her neck. I don’t want to let her go. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she says in a raspy voice. I lift my head and watch her fade.

  “Christopher … it’s perfect,” Bruno says before throwing his head back and sucking in air. He drops his head back to hers. “Baby, until I can join you, please tell that boy of mine how much I love him and that one day … when his dad’s work is done, we’ll all be together again.”

  “I will,” Grace says. “I love you, so much.”

  “Oh God, Grace, not yet. I’m not ready. Please hold on.”

  “I’m trying,” she says. “But sometimes we don’t get to choose.”

  I stroke her hair as her eyes glaze over. I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Thank you for being my friend.”

  She gasps and gasps some more.

  I sit back on my heels and let her husband spend her last minutes with her.

  Bruno’s head hangs over her, and he kisses her blue lips. She lifts her arm around his neck.

  “See you soon,” she says to Bruno and then her arm slides off his neck and falls to her side.

  Her entire body goes limp, and Bruno curls her body into his as he repeatedly tells her he loves her and he’s so sorry he couldn’t save her. He sobs and moans, breaking into shattered pieces.

  “No! Oh, God, no,” he says. “I’m supposed to save you!” His voice breaks, and he cries out, “Why did I let you come here?” Tears streak down his face as he clenches every muscle in his body. “Wake up, Grace. Grace, wake up, please. Don’t leave me.”

  I couldn’t save her either.

  Cole opens his arms, and I press myself into him as we cry together. I grasp Cole so tight, I’m sure my fingers leave permanent marks in his sides.

  Zeus nudges my leg and whines, reminding me he’s still here.

  An unbearable pain suffocates us. It’d be too easy to g
ive up. It’d be too easy to lie down and surrender.

  But I’m done losing people I love.

  I press my head into Cole’s shirt, completely oblivious to anything and everything around me but the smell of lead, blood, and his sweat all mixed together. Grace is gone, and our small group doesn’t even have time to think straight, let alone regroup.

  The moment we need the most privacy and peace is the moment everything blows up. Bullets hammer the walls, and everyone drops down in a single motion. I jump in my skin, as if being woken from my worst nightmare. But it’s not a dream. My hands release Cole’s shirt, knuckles white from grasping. We both fumble for our guns. My attention turns toward the doorway to the office, now riddled with puncture holes. Bill fires back even as tears streak his face.

  Bruno hovers over Grace’s body and doesn’t move an inch. I watch as the tendons flex in his jaw and his grip tightens on her. He doesn’t seem to notice the outbreak of hell around him or even care. I meet Cole’s red eyes. We’re both thinking the same thing.

  We can’t count on Bruno to make the decisions right now.

  I swallow my tears, laying aside my broken heart, and flick my attention toward Roméo. As the sounds of metallic bangs grow closer, Cole joins Bill in the doorframe, ducking in and out to fire.

  “The files!” I shout over the noise. “Did you find them?”

  “No,” Roméo says. He blinks back his tears, and I quickly shove past him.

  “Okay, I’ll look.”

  I don’t wait for him to react before ransacking the closet. I toss everything useless aside. The gunfire becomes more intense, and my hands shake as I dig down into each box, pushing away old books and relics. Dust poofs up around me, and panic rises in my chest when I find nothing.

  Finally, after the third box, I find files inside, nestled at the bottom. My hands work furiously through them. I can barely read through my blurred vision.

  Holy crap.

  At the top of each file it says: Name, brand, age at the time of entrance into the Hole, diagnosis, and date of death. Underneath each of these, in Sutton’s own handwriting, is a list of symptoms and possibilities.

  God, why didn’t he tell me?

  “Roméo,” I say. “Check these out.”

  Finally, he rushes in beside me, his lips quivering and his skin pale with fear. He scans the paperwork. At first, he says nothing.

  “Please tell me these’re the right ones!” My voice comes out scratchy and angry.

  “Yes. Yes,” he says. He kneels down and begins shoving handfuls of files into his backpack.

  “We’re losing ground!” I hear Cole shout. “Do you have them?”

  “Yes!” I scream back at him. “Bill, I need you.”

  Bill shows up in the closet, his face coated with tears, sweat, and ash. Dark rings puff out from his eyes, and he gives me a despondent look.

  “Your pack,” I say. He stands there, frozen. “Bill, your pack!” He jumps to action and hands me his backpack.

  I begin shoving files in, scanning as I go. Then I land on the one I want to find—Alyssa Jenkins.

  Amber was right.

  “No,” I say, my cheeks heating.

  “Lusty, you all right?”

  I don’t answer.

  “I’ll take that as a no. I’ll get the rest of them.” He immediately kneels and picks up where I left off.

  Outside, there’s constant gunfire. Cole returns it. Zeus’s bark is hoarse. Bruno sobs over Grace’s lifeless body. I quickly scan the handwritten record in front of me. I do my best to concentrate, just keep it together.

  Alyssa Jenkins, Yellow for Greed, eight years old, virus: unknown, thirteen years.

  My heart stops in my chest; my breathing slows. My hands shake even though I will them to be steady. Down below, her symptoms are written in plain language along with Sutton’s facts about her condition, but I don’t have time to read them.

  I skim down to the last part, where it says the date of her death.

  Alyssa Jenkins: Exact cause of death unknown. My professional opinion: Unknown Virus.

  “We’ve gotta get out of here!” Cole shouts. He shoots, and the sound brings me back to reality. I shove the paper into Bill’s backpack along with the others and zip it closed.

  “Ready!” I shout. “Let’s go.”

  Bill slings the sack over his shoulders and groans. Roméo does the same, sagging under the weight. There’s no time to talk or lament our losses, only to run.

  I come out of the closet after the others. My eyes meet Bruno’s. He’s still holding Grace, but his expression has changed. He sets his jaw, pushes his shoulders back, and stands with her in his arms. Other than the tears streaking down his face, he shows no expression.

  “Bruno,” I say to him. “They’re coming; we have to go.”

  “She goes where I go,” he says. His voice holds no compromise.

  “Okay,” I say.

  I turn away from him, forcing my own emotions down. I can barely stand the sight of him carrying my beloved friend, but dwelling on it won’t help us get out of here.

  In front of me, Cole fires back at the oncoming guards. It’s only a matter of time before they surround us completely.

  “Move out,” Cole says.

  I’m not sure where to go. The firepower of the guards consumes the hallway leading to the back staircase, eliminating that as a way out.

  I hesitate, thinking for a second before deciding on our route. If the back staircase is taken and the elevators are useless, then we have no choice but the front stairs. With a quick prayer and a plea for luck, I motion for the others to follow me.

  Here goes nothing.

  With each step, I clench my gun and duck for cover. The blistering amount of shooting echoing behind us makes my insides quake with fear and adrenaline. My eyes are wide open, alert. I clamp down on images of Grace by focusing on the stairwell entrance.

  Next to the entrance, on the right side, is a patient room. After checking it, I wave the others on. First Bill, then Roméo, and Cole. Zeus stays with me, his face a mask of teeth and unbridled ferocity. Next, Bruno, with Grace’s body in his arms, runs past me, into the staircase. If I could’ve carried Keegan out, I would’ve.

  “Go, boy,” I say. But Zeus looks at me, his tail pointed. “Zeus, go, go, go!” He plants himself next to me. Stubborn ass. I move my eyes back and forth, making sure the way’s clear. I don’t have time for this. Then I wrap my fingers into his collar and push him across the hallway on skittering nails. He practically slides through the doorway and into Cole.

  Just as Zeus’s butt hits the threshold, a shot rings out from close by. I freeze and scan the perimeter, trying to figure out where it came from since the gunfire somewhere behind us has tapered off. Whoever it was knew where we were heading to make our escape. I bite my lip and squint while holding my gun, determined not to miss any detail. Then I see it. A blip of sunlight reflects from the metal of a gun.

  Bingo.

  There’s a monster in the room.

  The door to the patient room bursts open, and the guard comes flying out toward me. I raise my gun. My blood feels electric. I fire off a few rounds and then have to change my magazine. I slam a new one in, but in that split second, he slinks away, using the door as cover. On the other side of it, I hear him talking.

  “You’re coming with me.” His voice is low and flat.

  Creepy as anything.

  “Dream on,” I say evenly.

  He sticks his gun out and takes a shot at me. It spins high above my head, but I duck down anyway. I swallow my guts and poke my barrel out firing back at him. It’s just enough to keep him behind the doorway. I can almost smell him from here, the mix of body odor, gun powder, and filth. The sunlight perfectly illuminates his shadow dancing across the door.

  “You and your friends don’t stand a chance,” he says. He shoots at me, this time going off to my right. “Everyone’s hunting you down.”

  “You leave them out of
this,” I say. “It’s me Wilson wants, not them.”

  Just keep him talking.

  My heart flutters. My breathing’s ragged. I look across the hallway and see Cole’s eyes as he stands in the entrance to the staircase, staring back at me. His white hands grip the doorframe. He’s helpless. If he steps out, the shooter would just kill him on the spot.

  “Don’t,” I mouth to Cole.

  I see the frustration and agony painted on his face, but I don’t have time to dwell on it before the guard emasculates the walls with firepower. I slink down, curling my body into itself to avoid the ricocheting bullets. When I look up, Cole stares, narrowing his eyes and curling his lips. He glances out the door, but the gunman fires at him until he’s forced to jump back, rendering me alone. Veins bulge from both sides of his neck.

  “Go,” I say.

  “No,” he says. He won’t leave without me.

  “You stupid whore, you’ve got nowhere to go.” The guard’s snide voice comes across muffled and low. He’s pissing me off.

  “Go to hell.” I shoot at the door to the room he’s hiding in.

  He’s silent for a minute, and I wonder if I got him, but then his shadow moves under the door again.

  Just hold steady.

  If I stay here any longer, I’m a sitting duck for the next wave of attacks. I can’t withstand them all. This delay is eating up time for all of us. My blood rushes in my ears, and I grit my teeth.

  In that split second, I make a choice.

  I sprint forward, rushing the doorway. The guard rustles on the other side, but I don’t stop. As he reaches around the door with his gun, I slam the door as hard as I can.

  He screams out in pain. His body stumbles on the other side. Breathless, I step around the door and fire the entire contents of my gun at him. He scoots back with eyes wide as his body jerks with each bullet. Somehow, he manages to hold on to his gun. His eyes stare through me as his finger reaches the trigger.

  My magazine’s empty. Crap. I reach into my waist for another one, when he lifts his gun.

  I dive out of the way as a round of bullets skitter past my shoulders, smashing into the wall behind me. I hear the piercing sound of shots and cement and screams. A bullet grazes my thigh, and instantly, I let out a scream from the burning pain.