Luke slaps my back, and I jerk from the abruptness of the strike. “Let’s go eat breakfast, Ky.”
“As long as we’ve been out here,” I start, straightening, “breakfast is over.”
“We haven’t been out that long. Can you run back?”
If I tell him no, he’ll force me to run anyway. “Yes.” He takes off. Shaking my head, I force myself to run after him.
He was right. We grab our food and sit at our usual table. I’m talking myself out of stabbing Collins with my fork, juggling it between my fingers. Her presence has begun to annoy me. She must know what she’s doing, and she has to be doing this stuff on purpose. One day she’s flirting with Luke; another day she’s flirting with Marc.
Sir Jord clears his throat, grabbing everyone’s attention. “The bridges have been placed, and the labs are finished. Luke, Kylie, Cory, Hanley, Collins, Cecilia, Marc, and Sean will go out for a final sweep. Respond!”
“We understand!”
Hands drawn behind his back and head bowed, Jord strides out into the morning. Lately, he’s seemed a little detached from everyone. He gives direct orders; he doesn’t check in on anyone, requiring Luke to do it instead, and he hangs his head with every departure. He hasn’t been himself.
The group of us called to sweep the new area for the labs head out at noonday. We drive the Humvees ten miles from base, across open desert land to the hole. The sun sparkles against the platinum beams that make up the bridge. We exit the vehicles.
Sean says, “Looks like they went all out on this garbage.” He slams his door and draws his M27 IAR to his chest, one hand gripped around the handle and the other near the barrel. The magazine of his firearm holds fifty rounds of the Creation Zombie bullets. Sean is an excellent shot. He prefers landing two in the body, one in the heart and one in the head. “For good measure,” he always says. I’ve not yet seen him waste a bullet, so it’s comforting, knowing he’s with us.
The Zombies are peaceful as we cross the sturdy bridges they’ve built over the hole. The bridge extends a half mile on to the land, directly to the entrance of the labs. They’re single level but well over thirty-two-hundred square feet. The well-constructed silver, oval-shaped building is placed in the middle of the desert. Windows make up the majority of the walls, making it easy for onlookers to view their experiments. It’s likely, though, there are lower levels where more in-depth experimenting goes on.
The objective here is to make it such a popular landing, the Zombies will no longer flock over here, and any remaining will be shot down. If they were to fill this hole, that may work, but as long as there is dwelling for the Zombies, they’ll remain here. I peer over the railing, down into the twenty-foot hole. Once the Zombies are under control in our area, they’ll give the word for us to move out throughout the country to the highest populations of infestations. I’m more than happy to join that fight.
We’ll sweep the labs now to make sure they’re clear for the scientists to take up residence by this evening.
The two bridges stretch fifty-three yards over the hole. They were dropped down by choppers, evenly spaced apart and drilled into the ground by the ground workers. The posts built into the hole are made of steel and concrete and are a convenient feature for the Zombies to climb and attack the labs.
It’s not my job to judge their architectural ability. I just protect it.
“There is no coming back from falling down there,” Sean says. “They may look dormant now, with the sun up, but I bet if one of us was to go down there, they would tear us to shreds.”
“While they eat us,” I say, remembering what it felt like to be one. “They can bomb this hole a million times, and there would still be Zombies.”
“Why do you think they are like cannibals anyway?”
I shrug, and Luke responds, “That may be how they process what is food. Like a wolf and a dog. A wolf and a dog aren’t the same, but they are both a part of the canine family. You bring a dog to a pack of wolves, they will tear it to shreds. We aren’t like them but look like them, like the dog and the wolves.”
I survey him, processing his explanation. Seems logical. “What would make you think of that?”
Luke shrugs. “It makes sense, the same with a lion and a tiger.”
“If you put a tiger with a lion,” Sean begins. “The tiger would win.”
“The tiger would never win against a lion,” Marc says in a condescending tone. “Lions dominate tigers.”
“I agree,” I say.
Luke says, “Lions would win because they attack in packs, but tigers are loners. Give them a one-on-one brawl, male against male, that would be worth watching.”
“It would be interesting to watch,” Sean says in amusement.
I bump Sean’s shoulder and give him an eager nod.
Cory clears his throat. “Are you all focused on the task at hand or worried about lions and tigers?”
If Cory didn’t resent us, he would include himself in this conversation too.
We make it to the other end of the bridge, and the eight of us look at each other and then to the second bridge. We laugh, realizing we should have split up to test the sturdiness of both bridges at once.
The lab is surrounded by nothing but land. A few cacti and desert plants bring a little life to the area, but there are no sights but the mountains and hills in the distance. They are like a backdrop to this bright, silver and glass structure. We split up in twos. Luke and I walk to the far end of the lab. From the outside, it looks empty, and it’s quiet, apart from the gusty winds.
“Ready?” I ask Luke, loading my gun. I raise my arm, waiting for him to meet it, confirming he’s ready.
He loads his gun before bumping my arm and the side of my fist. “Ready.”
Upon our approach, the glass doors part. We enter, smacked with the scent of chemical-based cleaners and fresh paint. The air is hot and still. We could hear a pin drop.
Though we entered through different entry doors, our group meets in the middle of the open room. The matte metal floor and white columns brighten up the open area. On the right side of the room are sectioned off stalls, the size of small bedrooms, with white beds. On the outer sides of the stalls are two closed off rooms. Blue doors lead into them. They’re closed. In the back of the building are two white doors that lead to offset rooms, attached to the building on the outside. Inside the room, it’s dark; maybe the last stop.
There are two glass rooms to our left. I take one, and Luke takes the other. Nothing but examination tables and a few chairs occupy the room. A couple of small refrigerators with glass doors line a far wall, and multiple monitors are mounted on the wall in the corners.
No Zombies.
“Clear,” I say, my voice echoing through the building.
“Clear,” the rest follow.
“That was quick,” I say to Luke, meeting him back in the center of the room.
He nods. “That’s why they sent eight people. They didn’t want this to take all day.”
“Exactly,” Cory says, coming over. “Now, let’s clear out. Head back before dinner.”
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to be caught out here when those Zombies wake up,” Sean says, laughing. “We’ll be the dog in a pack of wolves.” He and Marc laugh.
I never get his jokes, but I’m inclined to agree.
We head back, this time splitting up to cross both bridges. Collins and Cory walk with Marc and me across the bridge we all crossed on our way to the labs. Luke, Sean, Hanley, and Cecilia take the other. The two bridges are spaced about five hundred feet apart. The wind has picked up and shakes the structure slightly. I make a mental note to report this to Jord when we return.
Collins and Cory are far ahead of Marc and me, already halfway across, racing against each other for the end.
“I would say he and I hate each other equally,” Marc says.
“I would have to agree with you.” I chuckle. “That may have happened after the whole kiss in the rec hall,
then the fight when you repeatedly expressed your dislike for him by punching him in the face.”
Marc’s brows knit. “You think that’s what gave it away?”
I laugh.
He walks ahead, giving the bridge a closer look.
It’s the length of the bridge that makes it so easy for the wind to rattle it. They’re going to need more posts in order to support the stretch of heavy metal and steel to make it more stable. Cory and Collins jumping and flipping at the bridge’s end isn’t helping. Collins is flipping from the floor or the railings while Cory, with his arms long enough to reach both on the left and right, balances himself, swinging his legs back and forth and into a backflip. Every time either of them lands on the bridge, it sends a vibration all the way down, and the rattling echoes through the hole.
I’m a mile from them, with Marc pretty far ahead of me. He stalls, examining the floor of the bridge, noticing the excessive shaking as I have. He throws a glance behind him to me. “Looks like a sandstorm is rolling in, Ky. Let’s hurry across.” He waves me on.
North of us, a thick orange cloud is crawling toward us. A heavy gust of wind causes the bridge to lean slightly. I grab hold of the railing, catching Marc throw his rifle strap over his shoulder.
At the same moment, Collins flips, accidently kicking Cory in the back. He shoves the railings further apart, causing one to snap off. I watch it break, clink by clink, and I try to break away from it before it breaks where I’m standing, but I’m too late.
I fall over, just catching the bottom of the railing by the tips of my fingers. I pant, adjusting to get a better grip.
“Ky!” Marc calls, echoing Luke. He asks, “You okay?” as he also holds on for dear life.
My stomach is calming from the fall, and I’ve lost my gun. It’s now down there with the Zombies and the fence.
“I got it,” I call, maneuvering to get a better grip of the bar. Marc is less than a half mile from me, and we have so far to go before we make it to the end. The bottom railing is made up of multiple linked bars as one long one may not have been able to securely stretch the length of the bridge.
I need to shuffle my grip from one section to the next. My shoulders are already sore, and my back is screaming for me to release the bar from which I hang and relax. It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t go four rounds on the course with Luke this morning. The wind isn’t helping, shifting my dangling body as I figure out a plan of execution.
Marc’s not moved, appearing to be waiting on me. “Go,” I urge. “I’ll make it.”
He nods and begins swinging from one bar to another as if they were monkey bars.
I nod to myself. That’s a good idea. I throw my weight to reach the next bar. Grabbing it, the steel snaps off. I hold it in my hand, studying it as if it would give me an answer as to why it broke off. I drop it and watch it plummet to the group of moseying Zombies beneath me.
Fine...
I try again, throwing myself to reach the next bar. Grasping it, I can tell it’s sturdy, and I sigh with relief. I swing from one bar to the next, yelling to Luke. After he asks me for the third time if I have it, I yell, “Shut up! I got it! Give me a break, Luke!” He doesn’t hear me, though I do my best to shout over the wind.
The bar snaps in my hand, hanging on by one side. Gravity yanks me down, and I hurry to grip the skinny steel in both my hands. My heart’s pounding, and my ears are ringing. Palms growing sweaty, I struggle to hold on.
Luke screams, “Ky! Hold on!”
Marc whips around, swinging back in my direction. “Stop,” I shout. “These bars are unpredictable!” We’ll both be in my place if he grabs a weak bar like I did. “I can get myself out of this,” I assure them. Though I’m not sure.
My shoulders sting, and the burn is too much to keep holding on.
“I’m coming for you, Ky,” he says.
The bar’s shaking, the other end ready to give at any moment.
I yank myself up like climbing a rope, gritting my teeth as I work against the pain. I reach for the next bar, screaming out in irritation as I realize I can’t reach it. I grunt, relaxing my shoulder, getting so tired of hanging. I’ll need to throw myself to the next bar, but what if it’s weak too?
We don’t live off what if, Ky. I hear Luke tell me. If you get the chance, take it.
With all my might, I yank myself upward as hard as I can and throw my weight to the bar above me. I catch it with the tip of my fingers crooked around the bar.
It breaks.
I’m plummeting. It’s the fall that’ll kill me, and hopefully, I hit the ground hard enough to avoid being eaten to death by the Zombies. Closing my eyes, I accept my fate.
I jerk. Something snatches my forearm, yanking my arm out of its socket. I cry through my teeth.
“I got you, Ky,” Marc says, voice strained. I squint my eyes. He’s hanging on to a bar with one hand, the other saving my life. “I got you…”
I look down, feeling his arm shaking, likely either from the bar or me being too heavy for him to hold.
“Grab hold of me, Ky.”
I try to move my fingers, but the movement sends pain striking through my back. Turning my attention back to Marc, I look past him, to the bar in his loosening grasp. It’s definitely shaking, ready to give at any second.
I shake my head. We’re both not going to make it.
“Don’t do that, Ky. I can get you, just try to grab hold of me.”
Again, I shake my head, accepting my time is up. “It’s okay, Marc. You can let me go. I’m not afraid. Let me go before the bar breaks, and we both fall. I’m not scared.” I meet his eyes, reassuring him with a look of confidence. But he looks back at me, fear and worry causing his eyes to shake and his chin to tremble. An expression I’d resent if anyone else wore it.
“I am, Ky. Please grab hold. I can’t let you go.” His grip tightens on me as I slowly slip from his grasp. “I am scared, Kylie. I won’t let you go. Please?” he begs, despair in his voice and shadowed orchid eyes.
I look away from him as my breath catches and my legs dangle in the wind. My heart fires up, pounding loudly in my ears, and over it, Luke’s begging me to hold on. His shouts echo loudly.
Another gust of wind smacks into my dangling body, forcing me to slip through Marc’s grip. I try to hold on with everything I have, our nails scraping our palms as we dig for a grip. We catch each other by crooked fingers, our blood making it hard to keep holding on.
“Thank you,” he mouths, looking out to nothing before he looks back down at me. “I got you.” He carefully tugs me upward, grunting as he supports my weight with one arm. When I reach his waist, he says, “Wrap your arm around my legs.” I do as he asks, releasing his hand, and he grips me between his legs, holding me in place. He shakes his hand out before swinging to a new bar. “Alright, Ky. Get up here.”
I tug myself up his body, gripping his belt and vest, as he keeps his legs tightly wrapped around me. When I make it, I wrap my good arm around his neck and wind my legs around his waist. “Thanks,” I say in his ear.
He exhales a relieved breath and makes it across the remaining distance of the broken bridge. We make it to the edge of the cliff, and Luke, Sean, and Collins pull us up onto firm ground. While still in Marc’s arms, he whispers, “You are heavy, girl. And never tell me you can’t save yourself for me. I need you, okay?” before I’m ripped from his grasp.
Luke hugs me for a split second before shoving me. I stumble as I’m holding him back from another attack and clutching my dislocated arm. “What the hell, Kylie! You didn’t want to save yourself?” he shouts at the top of his lungs. Voice drenched in unnecessary anger, he blusters on about how I shouldn’t have hesitated.
I heave a lungful of air so I can throw a few choice words at him, but Marc comes up behind me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “It’s okay, Luke. I got her. You’re good.” His heavy rasp and the lightness of his reassurance settles Luke’s anxiety.
I shuffle from
Marc’s hold and cross the ground to Luke. Throwing my arm around his neck, I say, “I’m sorry, Luke.”
“That was not okay, Ky.” He breaks away from me, snatches his helmet off the ground, and shoves it down on his head.
I snatch his arm. “Hey! Don’t turn your back on me. I mean it. I’m sorry.” I force another hug. “I realize it was a bad move, but I am okay.” My arm is busted, but I’m alive.
Luke returns my hug, head falling onto my good shoulder. I return his hug with my good arm and lay my head next to his. “You don’t just give up,” he tells me in our small huddle.
“At the time, it seemed better to lose one than two.”
“If we had to return without the two of you, it would have been four. It was better for you to try than for you to want to fall.”
“You are right, Luke.” I don’t want to argue. “I might’ve scared you. And I’m sorry for forcing you to experience that emotion.”
“You did,” he admits. “And that is not a feeling I’m used to or ever want to experience again.”
“I agree,” I say, leaning back. “Would you mind popping my shoulder back in place? That catch was rough.”
I brace myself when he grabs my shoulder and arm, and without warning yanks it back in place. The crack is loud. I drop to my knees from the pain. “Thanks,” I grunt.
“Want me to heal your hand?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I’ll clean it, and I’ll be fine.” These are scars I want to keep.
Once I’m on my feet, Cory comes to my side, throws his arm around me, quickly hugs me to him, and mutters, “Glad you’re okay,” before heading to the Humvee.
As we head for the Humvee, I look back at Marc talking to Sean, calming him down. Sean’s not going to be happy that Marc, once again, risked his life to save mine, but though I originally denied his help, I’m grateful he offered it.
Chapter Twenty-One
“The bridge broke,” Luke calmly informs the general.
Sean scoffs. “That bridge didn’t just break. It busted. It was poorly structured.”
“How?” Jord’s eyes bug out of his head, and his voice booms even louder than usual.
Salient Invaders: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 2) Page 17