by Angel Lawson
There’s another hour before nightfall so when Davis points out the charred remains of a steel-beamed building, we agree it’s a good spot and find a shadowy front room to hide in.
“You think this will work?” I ask for the millionth time. The plan seems weak. Perez holds no value in any of us and she may earn points with Hamilton if she just kills us all. It’s not like Chloe who kept us alive out of a sick need to torture me and Cole.
“We have to give it a shot,” Wyatt replies. We’re each tucked in one of the room’s four corners. Eyes are trained on the windows and doors. If Cole and Davis don’t return by morning, Paul and the troops will attack.
The wait seems to take twice as long as it should. My butt grows cold and numb on the cement floor. I have no desire to fight through winter. Last year we lucked out by being in Catlettsburg the whole time. Living in the house with Walker, Jane, and Avi seems like a lifetime ago.
I glance up at Wyatt and find him staring at me, his eyes shining in the fading light. I raise an eyebrow but he doesn’t flinch. That’s when I hear them; footsteps on the street. Cole is already standing. Davis pulls his gun.
I’m a second behind, which gives me the sinking feeling the EVI-3 has run its course. Shadows fall over the open doorway, lingering for a second but not stopping. Broken glass lines the streets and every foot fall crunches.
It’s as though they aren’t even trying to disguise themselves. Or maybe they can’t. I glance at Cole and mouth, humans?
He nods.
We can’t kill any of Perez’ people. It’s imperative that we enter the city on positive terms. I make the decision instantly—no hesitation, only holding my hands up to the others to stand back. Wyatt shakes his head. Davis trains his gun on the doorway. Cole watches with narrow eyes and nods encouragingly. My final words to them is a whispered, “Go! Now!”
I step out of the doorway and look around. I can’t find anyone so I dig deep and call out. “Help! I need help!”
A shout, then a flurry of footsteps follow and before I can back out I’m surrounded by a dozen soldiers, guns raised.
“It’s me. Alexandra Ramsey. I escaped from Winston-Salem last week. I’d been under direct orders by Councilwoman Perez to stay in my quarters.”
One of the men lowers his gun and says. “Where is your partner? Why were you calling for help?”
I hold up my foot. “Hurt ankle. I’ve twisted it one too many times. I need a medic.”
His eyes go from my foot to over my shoulder. His gun is back on target a second later and when I hear the crunch of glass behind me I don’t have to look to know who it is.
“I’m here. Wyatt Faraday.”
“Anyone else?”
“No. Just us.”
A figure pushes past the crowd of soldiers and I realize instantly I’ve made a mistake. Walker emerges, fierce and angry.
“Giving up? That doesn’t seem like you, Alexandra.” She glances at Wyatt. “It’s definitely not like you.”
Her eyes skim past us, back to the door and I swear under my breath. Seriously? Do none of them follow directions? Men.
When I look over my shoulder, though, my annoyance fades into something different. Something harsh and cold in the pit of my stomach. Davis exits the building with a gun leveled at Cole’s head. How they got in that position is beyond me, but Davis has a cut over his eye and Cole’s nose is bleeding. Cole’s eyes are hazy and unfocused.
Walker spits out a laugh and says, “Well done. I didn’t think you could do it, but you’ve proven me wrong.”
Davis holds out a syringe and tosses it to Walker. She catches it with her leather-gloved hands. “Worked like a charm.”
“What is that?” I ask. It’s not hard to see that Cole is slipping away. His body lists to the side and Wyatt jumps to hold him upright. I run to the other side and do the same. He’s heavy and no longer using his legs. His breathing turns shallow. “What did you do to him?”
“A little something your sister made up for us back in New Hope,” Walker says. “The kind term would be euthanasia.”
“You killed him?” My head fogs over. Davis’ face is stone.
“Of course we killed him, Alexandra. We’re sworn bounty hunters. That’s what we’re charged with doing. But he’s the first one to go like this. She gave me the shots weeks ago but I thought I’d save it for my favorite little mutation.” She flashes Davis an appreciative look. “Thank you for bringing him right to me.”
“No problem. I was sick of looking at him,” Davis replies. “He freaks me out.”
“Davis?” I ask. “What’s happening? What about everything you told us about Hamilton?”
“Hamilton is a great man, Alexandra. He’ll be the one to save this country. You just can’t see it yet.”
I feel rather than see the life slip out of Cole’s body. He just suddenly stops. There’s nothing more and I look at Wyatt, whose expression I cannot even begin to discern. He’s lost somewhere between sadness and rage, his friend and brother having betrayed him—us.
“Alex,” he says quietly and I know a signal when I hear it.
Silently we wait three beats before flinging Cole off our backs and turning our weapons onto Davis and Walker. But another shot fires first—two of them—and I feel the prick behind my ear.
“What have you done?” I ask Davis, or the shadow of him. Sleep crashes over my head like a wave.
Wyatt drops first, his weight pushing me over, and when I hit the ground the last thing I see is Cole’s blank face.
22
I wake bound to a hard, wooden bench. Wyatt sits across from me alert and awake. We’re in a long corridor. Guards placed at each end.
My head feels like it was assaulted by a thousand hammers.
“You okay?” Wyatt’s voice is quiet.
“Yes. No. I mean…” I blink, pushing aside the images of Cole and stretch my neck. “Why do you look like you didn’t just get knocked out?”
He shrugs. “I think we’re outside the council room. In the courthouse? Where they kept Parker that day.”
“Where’s Cole?”
“I don’t know. The last thing I saw was you.”
“Do you think he’s dead?”
“Would you keep him alive?” he asks.
I push back the emotion threatening to tip me over. “Do you think we’ll still get our meeting?”
“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure Hamilton beat us here.”
“And Davis betrayed us,” I add, watching for his reaction. He grimaces but otherwise keeps his emotions in check. “Did you have any idea?”
“No.”
I lean against the wall, wishing for some aspirin. Wyatt takes a seat next to me.
“Perez seems rational,” he says hopefully. “Maybe she’ll tell him to pack it up and head north.”
“Hamilton will never let us go from this. We took his daughter. We disobeyed orders. He seems like a man who wants everyone to follow orders. Especially his.”
The guard shifts down the hall and the metal latch groans. He speaks with someone outside the door and glances over at us. The door swings open further and Sophia walks in. Her eyes are hard. “Stand up. The Council is waiting.”
“Sophia, we need to talk to Councilwoman Perez. We have information about Hamilton. Serious information from before the crisis.”
“Sorry, there won’t be any time for you to speak to Ms. Perez. Stand up so we can go.”
I lurch to my feet, swaying from the drugs. Wyatt offers his shoulder since his hands are tied behind his back. I lean into him, steadying my feet. Sophia walks past us, moving in the wrong direction, protected by two soldiers.
“Wait. We’re not going to the meeting room?”
She shakes her head. “Colonel Hamilton is here. You’ve been summoned to witness his presentation to the entire town.”
“Where is that?” Wyatt asks. We’re headed down a long hallway, maze- like in the back of the government building.
I try once more. “Hamilton isn’t who you think he is. He started this. Way back—with my sister. They conspired to destroy the world and all the weak along the way. You can’t let him gain control over the Safe Cities.”
We travel down a long flight of stairs. Four more guards stand in the doorway. Badges over their hearts point out their allegiance. Two from Winston-Salem. Two from New Hope. The door pushes open into underground parking. A jeep with blacked-out windows idles at the curb.
I keep trying. “The only person that can stop this is Perez. If she’s willing to separate herself from Hamilton—she’ll have access so the Mutts can protect the city. And there are others,” Sophia gives me a look, “other cities. They aren’t on board with Hamilton either.”
I think I may have her attention but the guard pushes me and then Wyatt into the back of the Jeep, slamming the door. The ride doesn’t take long but it feels like it does. A black sheet separates the front so we can’t see out. Wyatt and I sit in the dark. His hand grazes mine.
“We’ll get out of this,” he whispers.
The gnawing in my gut tells me otherwise.
The Jeep comes to a lurching stop and the air is cool and crisp against my face when the guard opens the door. We’re at the entrance of a concrete tunnel with a slanted ramp. Light pours in from the other side.
Wyatt’s eyes narrow. “A stadium?”
The guard nudges us forward and when we reach the light at the end I’m startled to see a sea of faces. A huge crowd has been assembled and they sit among the black and gold school colors of the local university. A few people wait on a platform in the middle of the field. As we move closer I spot Walker, Davis, and Jackson. All in clean uniforms. All betrayers.
There are others on the far side of the staging area. Parker and Jude. Mary Ellen stands next to them. My eyes graze her belly and she offers me a quick, grim look. My knees buckle at the sight of the next two people. Jane and my father.
“What are they doing here?” I ask Sophia. “Where’s Zoe? What’s happening?”
“A celebration. The merging of our communities. We’re building a bigger future.”
Wyatt holds up his bound hands. The black plastic band cuts at his skin. “And this? What does this represent?”
Her eyes dart to the ground. “Hamilton’s request. He plans on using you as an example.”
“Sophia…” I start but she holds up her hand.
“It’s too late, Alex. The deal has been made. The council approved it.”
“The council has but have the people had a chance to vote? Do they even know what’s outside the fence? What he’s done?”
She doesn’t answer and again I’m pushed along. I’m glad to see my friends and family are not restrained, or at least I think they’re not until I get closer. Sophia ushers us to the front of the stage, next to Jane and my father. I smile gratefully at just seeing them—despite the circumstances.
“Are you okay?” I whisper as we pass. Jane nods. My father looks a mixture of relief and worry. There’s nothing I can do to quell his fear. “What did you give Walker? Cole is dead—she said it was something you made!”
“Keep walking. Hands behind your back,” the guard says, pushing me along. “And no talking.”
I stand between my dad and Wyatt, who leans over and whispers, “Guns everywhere. In the stands. Behind the PA system.”
They may not be visibly restrained but no one here is free to move.
“I said no talking.” The guard repeats.
The crowd roars with energy, eager for the event to begin. It’s been a long time since stadiums were used for something positive and I can feel the hope vibrating off the stands. A make-shift marching band sits at the base of the stage, most likely holding scavenged instruments. I don’t know the last time I heard music played, live or otherwise. Occasionally back on Erwin’s bases someone would have a guitar and an older woman in Catlettsburg played the piano in church on Sunday mornings. But that was a long time ago and music is a type of noise that’s considered a death wish in the Fields. But here? It’s another symbol things are back on track. Hamilton knows what he’s doing.
A shout ripples through the crowd. Several people stand and they’re looking and pointing at the stage. We’re close enough to hear the murmurs.
“Can you hear that?” I whisper to Wyatt. I glance at Sophia who is nearest to the edge of the stage. “What are they saying?”
“Something about ‘the girl’…’” Wyatt says.
Sophia doesn’t move an inch but replies, “They’re saying “Is that the girl who…’” She looks at me sideways. “They’re talking about you.”
“Me?”
Sophia cracks the hint of a wary smile. “You’re famous. A legend.”
“Quiet!” grunts a guard. I feel the sharp point of a gun in my back.
Before I can react, I spot the conductor of the band stand and he exchanges nods with a guard near the tunnel. He takes his place before the musicians and lifts his baton. Soon, wobbly notes come from the brass instruments followed by the vibration of drums.
Hamilton and Perez emerge from the tunnel at the same time, followed by a string of people. He looks striking in a military uniform, handsome and confident. I’m sure he didn’t earn the medals that flank his breast. Perez wears a nice outfit, including her shoes—the kind that will get her killed in the apocalypse. The crowd jumps to their feet, applauding their new leaders. I recognize a few faces from Winston-Salem’s Council and the woman that directed our orientation in New Hope. Next to Hamilton is the most familiar person—Zoe. Dressed in a flattering outfit, her face blank, although her eyes scan over us as she passes. Of course, Hamilton called for her the minute they arrived.
The entire group files out of the opening and take seats across the stage. Hamilton and Perez take their places in the center and wait for the music and cheering to die down.
“Thank you,” Hamilton says, nodding and smiling with the crowd. He does nothing to stop the cheering—instead bouncing along happily. He reaches out to Perez and spins her around with glee. Sophia is right. It’s a celebration.
Finally, he hushes the people and steps to the edge of the stage. “Thank you all for the warm welcome. Thanks to the Council and Council Chair Perez for the hospitality and taking care of my daughter Zoe as she traveled ahead of my team. I’m thrilled our cities are forging together to create peace and prosperity. Our two communities, along with the other Safe Cities our esteemed government had the foresight to create, will be the catalyst for a new and bright future.”
A rash of cheers churn in the audience—even some chants. Again, Hamilton waits this out for a moment before continuing. “We’ve survived terrible days. We are bound to have more ahead. We’re not through this yet but I see a light at the end of this journey, one without disease and infection or life-altering parasites. One without monsters that infect and kill at random. One without criminals and deviants terrorizing our families. We will live in a world with medication and vaccines. One with big, beautiful walls that protect us at from the monsters still roaming the country side—because trust me—I was just out there. The monsters aren’t gone. Not yet, and some are scarier than you realize. Some,” he looks conspiratorially at the crowd, “are in the stadium right now.”
The crowd gasps and looks at their neighbors. Fear ripples like a current. I can feel it all the way on the stage and without thinking shout, “Stop fear-mongering! There’s nothing to be afraid of in here but his rhetoric!”
I’ve taken several steps away from where I’m supposed to be standing and I feel the trained weapons on my forehead, ready to take the shot. Hamilton looks over at me, a slight amused smile on his face. Instead of ordering my death he waves me over. I stand frozen, unsure as to what I’ve done, and a look over my shoulder reveals the scared and horrified faces of my friends.
Walker, on the other hand, looks down right entertained.
Hamilton leans into the microphone and says, “Come here, Al
exandra, the people would love a chance to meet the girl behind the legend.”
Another wave rustles the crowed, this time more curiosity than anything else. People are peering over one another to take a look. I walk forward, hands still tied behind my back. I’m filthy compared to everyone else on stage and my head pounds from Davis’ knock-out drug. I know my eyes are red from crying over Cole, but that’s why he wants me out here. To dispel the myth. I’m not the girl who can do the things they’ve heard about. I’m the girl who is nothing more than a hot mess.
“Many of you have heard of Alexandra Ramsey. Famous for helping eradicate the Eaters from much of the south. And most of you have probably heard the rumors about the darker side of the Death Fields. The biologically manipulated Hybrids who are immune to the infection but maintain enormous strength and skill. Alexandra assassinated their commander. Everything you’ve heard about this girl is true. She’s the real deal. A fighter and loyal sister and daughter. She’s sacrificed so much for this country.”
A new wave of cheering bursts through the audience, so loud I can feel it rattle my bones. But there’s something else causing the chill up my spine. It’s the way Hamilton speaks about me. The way he looks at me. The words coming out of his mouth do not reflect his actual feelings. It only takes a moment for the next shoe to drop.
“Why is she tied up?” someone in the crowd shouts. And others start wondering too. Another wave of chanting starts.
Let her go
Let her go
Let her go
Hamilton does his magic and the audience settles. “I know it may seem cruel to have Alexandra restrained, but not all heroes are what they seem. This girl is a deadly killer. A traitor to the human race. She assists the very monsters that threaten our society. She aids them. Spends time with them and very recently attempted to become one of them herself.”
This silences the crowd and a wicked grin spreads across Hamilton’s face. I search for Perez and catch her eye, silently begging her to make this stop.