by Angel Lawson
“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, Alexandra, 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.
Walker takes a step over, blocking my eye contact.
“Today is a fresh start. One I’m willing to give anyone that wants to be a member of the Safe Cities Alliance. An opportunity I’ve already given Ms. Ramsey and her friends. They turned their back on me. Kidnapped my daughter and continued to consort with the enemy.”
I snatch the microphone from his hand. “Don’t listen to him! He’s the one behind the crisis! He developed the infection to dismantle society! He is not your ally!”
Walker charges me and I duck, but there’s no place to go and my hands are behind my back. She latches her arm around my neck, snatching the microphone from my hands. Wyatt is already on his feet and he and Davis square off. Jackson eyes Jude, Parker, and Mary Ellen, leveling his gun in their direction, daring them to make a move. I look at the pregnant girl, her face pale and worried, and shout, “Stop! Wyatt. Stop. Davis, calm the eff down. It doesn’t have to be this way.”
The frenzy on the stage stops but Hamilton looks like the cat that ate the canary. He takes the microphone from Walker, who only tightens her grip on my neck. He walks back to the edge of the stage. Perez finally gathers a bit of courage and approaches him. The crowd can’t hear them speak but I can make out their words.
“Is this really necessary? We don’t deal with problems in public like this. Not in Winston-Salem,” she says.
“We had an agreement. And for that arrangement to happen I will make an example out of these people. They’ve had their opportunity.”
“And so, what? Public humiliation?” she asks. Lines furrow her forehead. “This won’t go over well.”
His eyes narrow at her tone—clearly offended she challenged his authority. The wild mania I’d sensed before from him flares behind his eyes and Perez realizes her mistake. “It’s just…the community is so fragile. I don’t want to excite everyone.”
“Madam, I hear your concern but it all depends on the getting the desired reaction.” He looks out over the crowd, many nervous and scared. “I’d say things are progressing nicely.”
Hamilton walks over to a small box on the edge of the stage. He faces the crowd, who has grown restless with the activities they’ve witnessed so far. With the microphone close to his mouth he says, “Before we go further I need to show you what we’re fighting against.”
He slams his foot down on the box and a door opens on the platform. A rectangular box rises from below, like we’re part of some post-apocalyptic half-time show. I fight against Walker until I can see better.
A mighty shudder rolls down my spine. Cole has been displayed on the board, arms spread crucifixion style. His skin is an ashy white. The curls on his head are matted and dull. There’s little question that he’s dead and a scream of disbelief catches in my throat. He was murdered by Davis in the streets. Davis, my friend, killed my other friend.
Spray painted over his head is the word, ’Mutant’, in drippy, red letters.
The audience is a mixture of gasping screams. Parents shield their children’s eyes. I feel bile surge up my throat. Even Wyatt’s face has turned a queasy green.
“Do you see this man?” Hamilton asks the crowd. “Looks perfectly normal. Strong. Capable. Smart, too—he used to be a scientist. Wanted to be a doctor.”
He steps closer and again I fight against Walker, who has me in a death grip.
“This man chose to give his humanity away. All for vengeance against an unjust world. He was the best a person could be—yet that meant nothing to him. He tossed it away. For power and strength.” He looks out into the crowd. “Do you really want to live side-by-side with a creature like this? One you can’t differentiate from your human neighbors? One who can snap your neck with his bare hands?” Hamilton points at Davis. “Do you see this man? Even he couldn’t stop the mutant. Not alone. Is that who you want living next door? Among your children?”
“Colonel Hamilton,” Ms. Perez says, walking up to him. “I think you’ve made your point.”
His eyes grow wild and he grits out, “No, I don’t think I have.”
Walker tightens her grip but I feel her remove her gun from her holster. “Don’t do this, Michelle,” I beg her. I lock eyes with Wyatt. He’s watching us like a hawk. “You’re better than this freak show.”
I feel the hard metal of the barrel against my head and watch, horrified, as Hamilton stands before Cole. The man tilt his chin upward and speaks loud and clear into his microphone, “God have mercy on your soul, son.”
“You’re disgusting!” I shout. “Cole was a better man than you even with the mutation running through his veins!”
His eyes flick toward me. There’s no emotion in them but hate. “We can’t have people like you in our world, Alexandra.” He nods at Walker. “Kill her.”
“Daddy! No!” Zoe shouts running toward him. Just before she reaches him she jumps back and screams. Two arrows fly through the sky from above, each slicing across Cole’s wrists with a gut-churning thwick. Hamilton and everyone else in the stadium looks up, trying to locate the shooter. More arrows zip through the air, taking out the sentries on the rooftops above, landing with precision on the guard blocking the stage. Walker keeps her grip tight, hugging me even closer. I glance to my right and watch as Parker drags Mary Ellen off to the side. With his hands tied behind his back, Jude charges at Jackson, kicking a chair into the bigger man’s knees.
“Kill her!” Hamilton shouts again, but his arms are tight around his daughter. Not in an embrace but a struggle over his weapon. He’s too big for her to overpower but Zoe does everything she can to slow him down.
“Walker! You’ve been given an order!”
The nuzzle jams into my skull. I wait for the shot. And wait, but all I hear is the screams of the crowd and Walker’s breath in my ear. It’s not that she won’t do it. It’s that she’s afraid. Not of me. No, someone else.
“Hands up,” Wyatt shouts, and without question Jude lifts his hands upward, an arrow splits the sky, severing the binds. Wyatt winks at Davis and says, “Paul has amazing aim.” To my astonishment, Davis tosses Wyatt a gun that he aims a gun at Walker’s head and says, “Let go of her. Now.”
Walker tugs me backwards, knowing I’m the only thing between her and certain death. “I knew it,” she hisses in my ear. “Those two will betray everyone else, but not each other or you.”
“Walker,” he says again, taking a step closer. She tightens her arm on my throat and I gag.
“I’ll kill her, Faraday. Then you’ll kill me. Either way, she’s dead.”
Her words are drowned out by the screams in the stadium. The attack set the crowd, who is already on edge, into a frenzy. The stadium falls into chaos, the guards instantly overwhelmed. People swell in stands, jumping over rows, falling onto the field. They rush the exits blocked by armed guards. The stairwells clog with people looking for cover from the attack above. They’re trapped and don’t know it’s the good guys outside the fence. They’re just scared.
An explosion rocks the ground—not from inside—but outside the stadium. People scream louder. Hamilton, in the midst of losing control, grapples with Zoe.
Across the stage, Perez--who moves faster than I expected--and her Council are gathered by the soldiers on stage. The rest of us are left in our dramatic showdown. I make eye contact with the woman, who is surrounded by guards, and make a plea.
“Perez!” I choke out, against the pressure of Walker’s arm. She stumbles just as a series of bombs go off outside the walls. “They want to work with you. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
She looks at me with regret but I point at my sister and father and shout one last thing. “Take them with you.”
Jane looks indignant. I know she can handle herself but my father can’t. Even Walker seems to have no problem letting them go. They hold the cure. None of us can afford to lose them.
Movement from the front of the stage catches my eye as Hamilt
on copies Walker’s move and grabs Zoe, turning her into a shield. He’s shouting while Zoe cries, fat tears rolling down her smooth cheeks. Wyatt keeps the gun focused on Walker, who just squeezes me tighter. Jude and Jackson brawl across the stage landing punch after punch. Parker has thrown her body over Mary Ellen’s, protecting her from the fight. Inch by inch they make their way off the platform. It all happens in a whirlwind of activity, but something else tugs at my consciousness.
Those two first arrows landed with intent, missing both Hamilton and Zoe. I stare at them now, green-tufted feathers sticking straight out of the board. Paul shot those arrows. Wyatt said so himself. I glance skyward but the sentries on top are gone, the battle having moved outside the stadium.
Hamilton shouts, “It doesn’t end like this. The freaks will not inherit the earth. You’re an abomination in God’s eyes. He will not let this stand and neither can I—”
The ripping sound echoes in my ears, even over the escalating sounds of a heavy fighting outside. The straps are leather but the arrows weakened them, giving the sleeping beast the chance to make his move.
Cole lunges from the board, awake and most definitely alive. Pushing Zoe to the ground, his strong hands wrap round Hamilton’s neck. Walker gasps in my ear.
“Me or him,” I tell her, but leverage the moment to elbow her in the gut and slam my foot down on her toes. Wyatt jumps at his chance, disarming and disabling Walker, and I race toward Davis. He quickly cuts the binds and tosses me the hatchet that he hung from his belt.
Jude lands a punch on Jackson, knocking him to the ground where he tips over and falls with a thud. Already the sounds of the battle have waned. It shouldn’t take long for the Mutts and Birmingham to make their point. Perez isn’t dumb enough to make a mistake twice today
“Help me,” Hamilton begs Walker, eyes bulging.
“Let it go,” Wyatt says to her. I have little doubt he’ll pull the trigger if she moves an inch. “Cole. It’s time to end this.”