by Angel Lawson
“Avi,” I say. “Tell us what’s happening in Catlettsburg. Anything interesting?”
No, he should have said, but didn’t, instead regaling us with not-thrilling stories of canning and a recent bake-off using roots to make flour. You know, instead of flour to make flour. The winner was Mrs. Banks with a delicious pie crust.
Jane and I catch eyes and laugh—sharing an unexpected sister moment. She holds up her glass up in a toast. I return the gesture and swallow.
“Oh god,” I sputter. The wine is sweet, almost syrupy, but the alcohol content is not something I’m used to.
“You okay?” Mary Ellen asks.
“Yeah. That stuff is just…wow.” My head swims and I head to the kitchen for a little air.
I stand over the sink, trying to decide if everything I just consumed is going to try to come back up again. Laughter rings from the other room and I can’t help but smile. Even in this shitty world, I’ve found my tribe.
After a second, my stomach seems to settle and I turn, leaning my back against the counter.
“Hey.” I look up. Wyatt stands in the back door, shoulder leaning against the wood frame. He’s chewing on a piece of jerky.
“Hi.”
“You okay?”
“Just a little queasy. You know how it is.” Food is a double edged sword these days. We need it but our bodies don’t always like what we put in it. “The wine may have been a little much,” I confess.
He approaches me and rests a hand on my hip. Without asking he gives me a kiss, gentle and smooth. I’ve barely adjusted to it when he pulls away, licking his lips. “Tastes good to me.”
He lifts me up, setting me on the counter so we’re eye to eye. I run my fingers over his jaw, the scruff of his beard. My heart hammers in my chest. Without reason I blurt, “Green thinks Cole, and possibly Chloe, set you up.”
There’s a beat—I’ve ruined this pleasant moment and I desperately want to take the words back. Wyatt runs his hands up my thighs and just says, “I’m aware.”
I want to ask how he knows but at the same time, nope, not going there or fighting about that now. “You think he’s wrong?”
“I think we’ll find out soon enough.”
There’s a sound at the back door and we pause, hands off one another and on our weapons. He’s tense standing between my legs. My heartbeat quickens from possible danger—from outside and his closeness.
“Probably the horses,” he whispers, when there’s no other sound. He focuses his intense eyes back on me. “Green may be right. Cole may have known I’d come up here at the drop of a hat. That doesn’t change his motivation one way or the other. He’s not with them, at least not willingly. If the Hybrids are coming I’m just going to say a little extra prayer of thanks I got to spend time with you.”
He rests his gun on the counter and with two hands pulls my hips closer to the edge. Out the kitchen window daybreak starts, its early morning ascent providing a glow across Wyatt’s face.
“You’re doing a number on me, aren’t you?”
He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”
“Saying things like that. Touching me like this.” I rest my hand on his chest and look into his eyes. He watches me closely and I lean forward, kissing him. Want rushes through me and I tug gently on his bottom lip. When we part I add, “Kissing me like that.”
“I think you’re the one doing those things.” He loops a piece of hair over my ear. The tension ratchets up a notch.
“What is this, Wyatt?” I ask the question I know he can’t answer because I’m the girl that wants to know everything.
He’s smart. I’ve always known that and it’s confirmed when he cups the back of my neck and kisses me again instead of answering. This time he isn’t gentle. It’s full of energy, something I feel all the way down to my toes. I’m not used to him yet—not the way he handles me or the way he moves. Not the way he makes the earth feel like it’s shuddering under my feet.
Against my mouth, in the quietest of voices, he says, “This is now. It’s real, and you remember that no matter what happens. No matter what Chloe says or does, you understand that?” I nod and he continues. “She’ll try to wedge between us. She’ll use us to hurt one another. Look what she did to her brother. Always know this is real and it has been since the moment I met you.”
“Definitely a number,” I mumble, feeling overheated and woozy with emotion.
We kiss again, hands growing greedy, desperate. His mouth doesn’t leave mine even when I need to catch my breath, and the burn in the pit of my stomach makes my brain evaporate from my head.
I hear a faint scratch at the back door, followed by a low moan. I freeze, squeezing his hand with mine. “That’s not the horses,” I whisper.
Wyatt steps away, checking his gun. I jump off the counter, hatchet already in hand. The laughter and chatter from the front room comes to an abrupt stop, just as Wyatt opens the back door.
He had his gun pointed head level but drops it suddenly, aiming at the ground. Shouts call from the front room—something is wrong in there—but I’m screaming, “Don’t shoot!” realizing it’s Jude’s bloody body on the porch floor.
Boots pound through the house, furniture crashes. I’m on my knees trying to help my friend. Wyatt steps over me, heading into the early morning fog.
“Get up,” he hisses at me but I don’t want to leave him.
“Run!” Mary Ellen screams from the front of the house. I’ve found Jude’s pulse—his face barely recognizable from the beating. “Alex! Run!” she yells again from the front room and I stand, looking back to the living room and out the front door—mind bent and confused.
Gunshots come from the front room, glass shatters and breaks. I can’t help them from inside, so I run through the back door and down the back steps.
“You’re not getting away from me this time,” hear from the kitchen doorway. “Neither of you.”
I spin at the familiar voice. Chloe stands with her hands on her hips. Her hair has completely grown out since her surgery last year. The same pale blonde as her brother’s. She nods and the echoing sound of cocked and ready rifles clicks against the silent yard. A quick glance reveals I’m surrounded.
“Drop your weapon,” a drone says. I throw it at his head. He ducks but the one behind him doesn’t and it clips him across the ear. A string of profanity rolls off his tongue, blood gushing through his fingers as he clutches his head. A dozen guns come within a foot and I consider that this may be it. This is how I’ll go down, when I hear a cry to my right and a Hybrid shoves Jane my direction. She stumbles and I catch her, noticing the blood dripping from her temple.
“Tie the others up. We’ll take them back to headquarters,” Chloe commands and her Hybrid ants scurry to fulfill her wishes. She shifts her focus on me and Jane. “And tie them up.”
We’re jerked and shoved to the ground, a rock jamming into my knee. Jane looks fuzzy-eyed, like the hit to the head messed with her, but we’re hoisted back up on our feet and shoved front and center.
“That was clever,” she says, stepping over Jude to get to the bottom step. She stares at Jane. “The way you escaped last year. I didn’t realize you were even aware of my plans. To be honest, I thought you were too self-absorbed to notice. Too focused on your own goals.” She shrugs. “Lesson learned. Never take your eyes off the Ramsey girls.”
She turns her attention to me, eyes narrowed. “You on the other hand…not so clever, but you’re nothing more than a traitorous whore. What did you give Rowe to lead you out of the Fort? I found his body mangled and half consumed on the sparring room floor. Did you use him, too? Like the other men that cross you path?”
“You’re delusional, Chloe.” I glance at my sister. “That’s something you need to fix in your next batch of vaccines. The increased likelihood of delusions of grandeur.”
“It’s the infection,” Jane replies, in that know-it-all-voice she can’t help. I shake my head for her to shut up but she keep
s talking anyway. “It sparks the aggression and need to conquer. Not by spreading the virus but by forcing those around her into submission. Although it’s basically a mental illness, I do find it fascinating.”
Chloe walks down the steps, quick and feline. She approaches Jane with speed so fast she appears a blur. She grabs Jane by the neck and says, “See? That’s why I can’t kill you. You’re too smart. So smart. I’m going to need that brain.”
She places a sweet kiss on my sister’s forehead and turns to me. Without hesitation, she hauls off and slaps my face with a crack that rattles my teeth and splits my lip. My ears ring and I nearly lose my balance, my weak ankle buckling under the pressure, but Chloe grabs the front of my shirt and jerks me forward. “You on the other hand? Not so smart. I told you not to hurt my brother.”
I spit blood on the ground. “I’ve done a lot of crappy things over the last two years, Chloe, but I’ve never hurt your brother. He left me, you know. Not the other way around.”
She glances to her left, and like they have a hive mind, the Hybrids part and toss Wyatt in our direction. He’s bound already, hands and feet, and lands with a thud on the ground. His knuckles are busted—bloody and scraped from fighting. His eye is bruised again, just below where Avi already popped him once tonight.
“Cole is a fool, but he’s learned the error of his ways. He’s been reformed, or at least he’s in the process.”
“So civilized,” I say.
“At least he’s loyal,” she replies, eyes flicking to Wyatt, who has managed to get on his knees. “This one? He still can’t figure out whose side he’s on, other than his own.” She walks over to him and places a finger under his chin. “So predictable, or at least that’s how he seems. He’s not, though. Every move has a distinct motive. A clear mission.”
“Cole is the one that sold you out,” I tell her.
“But Wyatt is the good boy. The perfect soldier. He follows directions with extreme precision.” She glances at me and smiles before leaning over and placing a slow kiss on Wyatt’s lips. He struggles with his binds, twisting away. Two guns press in his back and she clutches him by the chin, holding him still.
“Thank you for the hard work,” she says to him. “But your services are no longer needed.” She rests her boot in his chest and kicks him over. A Hybrid comes behind her and slams the butt of a gun against the back of his head. The crack is sickening and I can’t stop the cry as he crumbles to the ground in a heap.
“Put them with the rest of the prisoners,” she says, walking off without another look back. “And shoot him.”
I lunge toward Wyatt but I’m picked up from behind and hauled away from his body. Hybrids do the same to Jane although she isn’t resisting. I fight, twisting against the Hybrid, kicking and pulling with all my might. The burly solider wraps his arms around me and I buck against him.
“Don’t do it! Don’t you dare!” I shout at Chloe’s retreating form. “If you hurt him, you’ll pay for it with your life. A slow and painful death, Chloe.”
She disappears into her vehicle without reacting while I’m dragged down the gravel driveway, heels digging in. My ankle throbs, probably actually broken now, but it doesn’t stop me from fighting. I bend and clamp my teeth down on the Hybrid’s wrist, tearing into the flesh.
The Hybrid throws me to the ground and stands over me, gun drawn. He wipes his bloody hand on his pants and narrows his eyes. “Just because she won’t let me kill you doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you, little girl.”
The tone of his voice shakes me to the core and Jane shouts, “Alexandra. Stop. You’re only making it worse.”
I steal a look at my sister and see the fear on her face. I don’t want to give up. I can’t give in but there’s nothing I can do. He yanks me back on my feet.
Not far down the drive we come upon several black vans. They open the back doors of one and toss Jane inside, she lands hard on the metal floor. I expect the same but they shut the doors with a slam and yank me toward a different van.
We’ve just reached the doors when a single shot cracks the night into two.
My heart stops and I stumble, clamping my teeth to keep from screaming. I don’t dare look back and see what she’s done to the man that I love.
Another Hybrid opens the doors and I’m shoved forward. I have no fight left and sprawl into the hard floor. Jude left for dead. Green injured and unable to fight. The others will be transported back to whatever headquarters Chloe has set up. Jane will be a servant toward whatever biological warfare they want to create. God knows where Erwin and Paul are, but if she hasn’t caught them yet, it won’t be long.
And Wyatt. I swallow back the tears and pain.
The Hybrids have won the war without an actual battle.
I feel the chains clamped to my wrists and numbly I go where I’m directed. There are bench seats on each side and I’m tethered to a chain on the floor. Tight manacles are on each wrist. I settle into one, only realizing I’m not alone as the door slams shut. A tiny sliver of light seeps through the crack under the doors revealing a pair of unfamiliar scuffed, black boots. He’s not one of my friends, which makes me happy and sad at the same time.
On his knees rest dirty hands, knuckles covered in scabs. His pants are torn, shredded at the cuff. Chains bolted to the floor loop around his ankles, and another set bind his wrists to the bench. A dark black cap covers his head, which is all I can see because his face is down.
“You must have done something pretty awful because they gave you extra chains. And Chloe hates me. Like really, really hates me.” My voice is weird—hysterical. If I don’t joke, I’ll break down. If I break down, there’s no getting back up.
He makes a sound. A laugh. It’s low and creepy, building in his chest. He leans his head back against the van wall and I get a peek of his bloody, ruined face.
“You’re right about that.” He stifles his giggles, turning his hard blue eyes on me. My blood runs cold. “She freaking hates you.”
“Cole?” I ask, because I honestly don’t recognize him. Not a thing. Not the sharp, emaciated angles of his face. Not the matted hair stuck to his forehead. Not the unhinged sound of his voice.
He leans toward me, held back by the chains but able to get closer than I’d like. “You should have kept running, Alexandra. Far, far away. Not simply playing house up here while you waited for your lover to come back.”
The eerie feeling washes over me that they’ve known our location for some time. Maybe they’ve just been waiting out the snow like the rest of us. Waiting for Wyatt to return to take us all out in one final blow.
In the shadowy van I try to make out his features. The face I once held and kissed. There’s nothing. I hear the disbelief in my voice when I ask, “What has she done to you?”
“What she did to me?” Again he offers that maniacal smile. “This is what you did to me. What I sacrificed for you. I’m the example of what happens when you go against her will. She’ll destroy all your friends, Alex. She’ll destroy everything good and kind and human unless you do what she says.”
“Why doesn’t she just kill me?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he asks, his gaze suddenly coherent.
The van rattles down the road, getting further and further from the farmhouse. My friends and family are splinted—if not gone for good. The weights are heavy, dragging me down. My ankle throbs and I fight the sob that clings to the back of my throat. It’s not just that I’ve been captured. It’s that every battle over the last year was for nothing. Every soldier lost, every Eater killed. The miles trekked were for nothing. The bonds forged were pointless. We should’ve died with the first victims of the virus, because all we’ve done to save humanity has made it worse.
We failed in our mission and now the survivors must accept the bitter pill of a bleak and futile future.
Alexandra’s story continues in thrilling next installment, The Girl Who Broke Free, Book 5 of The Death Fields Series. Read below for a sneak pe
ek at the first section of The Girl Who Broke Free.
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The Girl Who Broke Free
Book 5
There are no weapons in the room. No zippers or loose strings attached to our clothing. Nothing that can be fashioned into something lethal. It’s hand to hand combat and by the end of the hour I’ll be sore enough that I’m happy to have nothing to do but crawl into bed.
“Good afternoon, Alexandra,” Cole says. The disturbed glint in his eyes hasn’t left since I was tossed in the van with him months ago. I don’t know if it’s the Hybrid juice running through his veins or the fact his sister’s desperate attempts to break him have succeeded.
“Let’s get this over with,” I reply. I learned when we started this ridiculous game that engaging him in conversation was useless.
I step to the line in the middle of the room and although he hesitates for a brief second he does the same. He prefers to start with a little chit-chat, baiting me into a rage so I’ll lose focus. Not today, I ignore his dark eyes and the way they drift toward the rib injury I’m nursing from our last session. I remember when they were blue and a familiar wave of loneliness washes over me. I shake it off because that kind of thinking will only give him the upper hand.
We’re toe to toe and my eyes linger on his massive biceps. Did they get bigger over night? His muscles aren’t the only advantage he has over me. He’s stronger and faster, everything enhanced by the Hybrid vaccine.
Me?
I’m not that big but I’m not a weakling. My brain isn’t filled with adrenaline induced hate and due to my training last winter with Jackson I’m a smart fighter with quick reflexes. It isn’t a fair fight by any means but day after day I enter the ring with the idea I can win. I just have to figure out his weakness.