Luke meets me in the hall, suited for a fight. “Ready?” I ask.
“Of course.” He bumps the side of my fist. “Don’t get touched.”
“I won’t.”
We run back to Jord’s office. He and Seits are also suited up. We load up. I grab two more guns: one shotgun and another handgun. Luke takes his choice, and we take extra ammunition, placing it in the extra compartments on our suits. I zip up the one on my lower leg before straightening my spine and loading a shell in the chamber of my shotgun.
With it only being the four of us, we’ll be outnumbered.
“You captains ready?” Jord asks. His face is covered by his scarf, goggles, and helmet. No flesh on any of us is exposed. “Remember to avoid their spit, bites, and scratches.”
“Yes, sir,” we respond.
The base is clear of stragglers. It’s quiet, late night calling everyone to their homes for sleep. We run into the darkness, away from the fields and toward the hole. It’s far on foot, but it’s likely where the Zombies are coming from.
The moon’s stingy with its light, leaving us blanketed in the darkness.
We hit our flashlights.
My breaths are heavy, warming my scarf around my mouth.
“If we keep quiet, we will hear their approach,” Jord says, “Keep your footsteps as quiet as possible.”
We creep along the dusted ground. We spread out at an equal distance and trail imprints in the dirt where it looks as though feet were dragging as they crossed the ground. We come upon nothing, hearing nothing.
There’s a scurry.
I flick my flashlight to my left.
Nothing.
Recalling the soda can scraping across the ground in Chicago, I remember, “They’re attracted to sound. They won’t bother us if they don’t know we are walking out here.”
“We are out here with flashlights. These are drawing,” Luke says.
“Turn off the lights,” Seits suggests.
“We won’t be able to see. The moon is covered,” Jord responds.
“I’m making noise.” Not waiting for their okay, I clap my flashlight against my gun. It echoes through the darkness. I attach the flashlight back to my handgun, allowing it to be my aim.
A scurry of footsteps rustles up the dust.
I stand my ground, twisting my body as I search around me, awaiting their approach. Adrenaline rushes through my blood, and I pant, impatiently waiting for their attack.
Something passes behind me.
I whip around.
Coming for me, full speed, a Zombie leaps, arms extended, snarling. I fire. Two shots. It drops, finally taken by death.
Its friends are snarling, running, and charging toward us. I do what I can to hold them off, trying to make sure every shot is a headshot. There are so many of them coming from every direction. I shoot what I see, and when I’m grabbed, I punch and kick in the direction I’m pulled. Not all my shots are headshots, but they cause them to falter and back away, if only for a few seconds. Those few seconds are all I need to get off a jab or make the perfect shot.
In five more shots, I’m clear with nothing else attacking me. I move around, snagging my other gun then reloading the first. “Luke!” I check.
I’m clipped at my ankle, face-planting in the dirt. I flip onto my back, keeping the corpse in sight. Throwing a punch that goes through its cheek, its jaw rips away when I draw back my fist. Even with the loss of its body part, it doesn’t let up.
Bullets blast through the Zombie’s forehead, sending the black gore splattering in my face and the Zombies falling limp on top of me. I shove it off me, and another jumps on me, knocking both my guns from my hands. The flashlight spins and shines in my direction. Three of them snarl around me before attacking.
I try to jump to my feet before they attack, but I’m too late. They knock me to the ground again. Clawing at my clothing, they try to break through my helmet and rip off my vest.
I’m surrounded, left to hope the others are okay. Dried blood, stomach acid, and decay burns my nose as they plow on top of me, growing heavier and heavier. I keep my arms up to block their attacks, but I need to get them off me.
Focus, Ky. Get out of this.
Holding my breath, I take the head of the one above me between my hands and twist it off its neck. I kick another and flip to my feet, scrambling to stay upright. Another has me by the leg. Back on my feet, I take the shotgun off my back and fire at the one with its hands wrapped around my ankle, ready to stick his teeth into me.
I quickly turn and fire at the other I elbowed.
Two more approach, and I drop them, becoming angry I’m losing this battle. I replace my shotgun, running to my handgun with the flashlight. My shots are followed by others, causing the Zombies snarls to fall silent.
“Luke?” I call to him again as I look around me, firing at what I see.
“Ky,” he responds from behind me. I’m okay as long as I hear his voice. I don’t need to look for him or go to him. Just hearing him lets me know he’s fine. He’s a soldier. I know he can hold his ground.
“Sir Jord?” I call.
“Here,” I shine my light where I heard him. He stands back, shooting two more approaching Zombies. They drop.
“General Seits?”
“Here,” she responds. When I shine my light toward her, her back is to me. One more Zombie is approaching.
Instead of it continuing to her, it charges toward me. I shoot an empty clip. I reach for my other gun, realizing I dropped it and never picked it up.
The Zombie tackles me. I ram the butt of the gun into its head, splattering its blood and brains on my goggles. Trying to wipe it away, I kick it off me and reach for my shotgun.
Once I have it off my back, a shot fires from my side, dropping it. Sighing, I rest on the ground, looking up at Luke through blood-smeared goggles. “Thanks,” I say.
“No problem.” He extends his hand, helping me from the ground. “Did we get them all?”
“Yes,” Jord says. “Can you continue? Were you bitten?”
Hell yes! I can do this all night. “No, sir. I was not bitten. I can go on.” I wipe the remainder of the blood from my goggles with my spare rag.
“They will come for the bodies at dawn. I don’t expect any more to be near here. But we are going to go over the entire area, just in case.”
“Got it,” I say, searching the ground for my other gun. I find it and reload it. I approach Luke. “Okay?”
He throws his hand against my back, patting it hard. “Okay.” We follow behind Jord and Seits, coming upon nothing.
After a couple hours, we head back. The lights in the houses are off and before we head to bed, I plan to take a shower. Though the blood of the Zombies didn’t touch my body, I feel like I’m covered in it and sweat.
Jord throws his arms out in front of his sister and me. Luke, on my other side, halts.
We see Cory ease the door on General Jord’s office closed, creep down the stairs, and hurry across the road.
Luke cocks his gun, the sound stopping Cory in his tracks, his back to us. “What are you doing?” Luke asks in a husky voice.
Jord continues forward, Luke on his flank. Seits and I follow. “Start talking, Captain,” Jord demands.
Cory turns on his heels, gaze slicing over the four of us before saying, “I needed the names.”
“The names of what?” Luke asks.
“I’d prefer to talk to you alone, Sir Jord,” Cory says.
“No,” I say loudly. “You were caught sneaking out of his office.” How dare he not answer this question? “Luke, shoot him.”
Luke fires, hitting his left shoulder.
Cory hisses, baring his teeth. He transfers the papers to his free hand and clutches his shoulder. Crimson leaks through his fingers.
“The next shot will be in your head if you don’t come forward. Why were you in my office? You know you are getting special treatment because of the work you have put in for me and fo
r what I thought was your loyalty.”
“They suspect traitors amongst us,” Cory says.
“They who?” Jord asks.
“The Trade.”
I swallow my gasp. “How would you know?” I ask. My suspicions are rising. “And that doesn’t explain why you would need to sneak.” If he were doing anything to help us, why wouldn’t he come to our general and tell him up front. “Who were you taking the names to?”
Cory only nods.
“Just give me the word, Sir Jord,” Luke says, cocking back his gun again.
“Stand down, Luke,” Jord orders. Luke lowers his gun. “Cory, in my office.” He marches toward his office and everyone follows. “Alone. Even you, Seits.” She halts. Her neutral stance concerns me about her view on all this. “Luke and Ky, see me in the morning after your run and breakfast.”
“Yes, sir,” Luke and I respond.
Chapter Thirty
Our house is quiet. I run into my room to grab my clothes for a shower, and as I’m leaving, Marc’s leaning on the wall opposite my door. He straightens when I step out. I continue for the stairs, ignoring him the way he does me most mornings, as though he doesn’t see me.
“Ky,” he calls.
“I’m dirty, and I need to shower. Bye,” I say, making it to the top step before he said anything.
His footsteps near me, and I hold my breath. “You have something to say to me?”
I have a lot I want to say to you, Marc. Questions circling, why were you walking in the night alone with Susan and Cecilia, and no one could find you? What were you even doing in the dark with those two? Why’d you avoid looking at me when I approached you? Why do you have something to say to me now? Where were you going, and why were you going there with them?
Night strolls are our thing, something I thought he and I had that was special, but I was wrong. They’re just the cream of the crop for all the girls.
All my questions are not my place to ask. He’s not with me, and I have no right to question him or demand an answer from him. I swallow my questions and push out my pride. “No.”
“Okay. Can I answer the questions you will not ask?”
“No, Marc, I don’t want to know.”
He moves down a step and turns to face me. I pull down my goggles, the rims of them are covered in blood, and my helmet is heavy. I intend to clean them after my shower.
Marc pulls down my scarf and lifts off my helmet. I drop my gaze to the floor as I shake my hair out. A Humvee-sized rock drops in my stomach. “You sure?” he asks.
“Yes,” I answer, looking around the dark stairway.
“You okay, Ky?” Luke asks, coming up the stairs.
I watch him pass me. “Yes, just walking around Marc.”
“Got it.” He stops beside me. “Marc, why were you with Cecilia and Susan?”
I hit him in his stomach with the back of my fist. “It does not matter, Luke,” I say, cutting Marc off before he can answer. “That’s none of our business.”
“Err, got it,” Luke grunts, finishing the walk to his room.
I try to step around Marc, and he moves in the same direction. “None of your business?” he questions, sounding dismayed.
“Marc, what you do, and who you want to do it with is not my business. You hold no ties to me, and you do not owe me any explanations. You’re your own person.” I finally meet his eyes. “Excuse me.”
In this darkness, Marc’s eyes break through, beaming at me. Mine don’t shine out like his do, the way his seem to brighten my face as they soak me in the purple hue of a sunset. He moves aside. “Fine, Ky.”
I’m not angry with him, I tell myself, not knowing if that’s true or not. My stomach is squirming, and the weight of the world falls on my shoulders. I can’t pinpoint the feelings consuming me, but I sulk. What did I honestly expect? For him to be different? For him to only see me? And what would I have done with it if he did? I am a Creation, I try to force myself to accept. He is a Creation. What I believe I’m actually searching for, they don’t possess, so it’s time I remember why I’m here or at least find a new plan. Like finding out why Cory was sneaking around in Jord’s office.
What a snake! Why is he working with the Trade? He should have no affiliation with them. He’s Separation, that’s why he was born. The Trade sends orders through channels, we don’t meet, they don’t inquire.
I hurry to the stalls to wash off the blood and dirt. The shower water spits cold. I jump back. Forgetting my priorities, I’m forced to wash myself in cold water. I get out with chills and hurry to dress to relieve them. I toss my dirty clothes down the shoot, clean off my boots and helmet, and head for my room.
“Ky?” Cory calls as I’m headed for the stairs.
Burning questions keep me from ignoring him. “Thank you for not yelling my name in the night, Cory,” I say sarcastically, walking to the coffee table sat in front of one of the two sofas here in the living room. I set my clothes on the table as I fall back on the sofa. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were down here,” he says softly. “If I did, I wouldn’t have yelled for you. Anyone else up?”
“Luke, maybe. He’ll probably be walking back to his room from the showers shortly,” I tell him as he sits.
“I’m only talking to you.”
“Why?”
“Because I owe it to you, to answer your questions. After you ordered your brother to shoot me, I do need to explain as you said.” He takes my hand in his.
“Don’t touch me,” I tell him. “I don’t trust you.” I scoot away from him. “Matter of fact, why don’t you sit on the other sofa?”
“Come on, Kylie. I’m not going to sit on the other sofa. It’s not like I’m avoiding you, or I’m not willing to tell you what’s going on. I came to you. You didn’t have to come to me.”
“Okay, tell me why you are working for The Trade.”
Noise comes from the bathroom, and he doesn’t answer until we hear someone walk up the stairs. He scoots closer to me and whispers, “I’m not working for them, but I was gathering names for them because they suspected implants are in Separation.”
“What type of implants?”
“Not implants from other areas of the world,” he answers wryly.
“Then from where?”
He turns my head to him. “If they are not from this world, where else, Ky?” He looks at me head on, as if the answer is obvious.
And it is. In my whisper, I lift my voice as though I’m shocked. “You’re saying implants from beyond Earth. How?”
He shrugs. “That’s what they’re trying to figure out.”
I remove his hand from my jaw. “If you are so willing to release this information, why sneak?”
“I’m giving you the information. Everyone did not receive the same courtesy.” His head falls in a bow. “I lost my position. I’m now ranked disloyal. Starting from the bottom.”
“Wow,” I mutter.
“Luke will be replacing me. Marc will be replacing him. Sean will be replacing him. I’m being honest with you. I lost everything I worked hard to achieve.” He lifts his head. “I want at least to maintain our friendship.”
Turning down the corners of my mouth, I tell him, “No. I don’t trust you.”
“Please,” he begs, scooting closer to me. “I’m being honest, Ky, I promise. This is what I am, a Creation in Separation. I wanted to get the names for the ones they suspected are implants. The Trade, who monitor us, were going to pull them out and do away with them. I snuck because they said Jord knows who those implants are, and it’s the reason they ended up in his area of Separation. It’s by no accident he has that list.”
The muscles in my face remain relaxed, but a hundred questions blast through my mind. Could Jord know? How many implants could there be? “Why would The Trade trust you with that? How’d they know you wouldn’t tell your general? Like you should have.”
“I’m number one. Well, I was numb
er one. I have access to all the information. I’m against implants who are against us. But there are some who are fighting for the same things we are. To keep this world ours. To block out and fight against the domination of the outsiders. There’s a lot you don’t know, Ky, and everyone you think are the good guys aren’t.”
I breathe. “I’ll be back, Cory. Let me take my clothes upstairs and let Luke know I’m down here before he comes and hears your confession.”
“I won’t hold you up, Ky. I wanted to tell you what was up. I saw the disgust in your eyes when you looked at me. I couldn’t take it.” Sighing, he says, “Just do me a favor and keep this to yourself. Instead of them announcing my disloyalty, it will be brought to everyone as my step down. I’ll no longer have a rank, and I’ll pretty much be treated like a nobody at Separation. Everyone will just know who I am,” he clears a gurgle from his throat and sniffs once.
“You okay? You sound like you are about to cry,” I tell him.
“If I cry, will you comfort me with a hug?” He half-smiles. Remorse sticks in his eyes, but I can’t determine if it’s because he’s ruined or because he was caught.
“I don’t know how to comfort. I would have to work on that with the Normals. And hell no, you’re not getting a hug from me.”
“You can test it with me. But I’m not going to cry.” He tries to wrap his arms around me and I push him away. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ky.”
He rises with me as I grab my clothes. I head for the stairs, and he lets himself out.
I creep up the stairs, startled when radiant purple eyes spot me out of the darkness of the stairwell. He sits on the top step, arms resting on his knees.
“I have a question,” Marc says when I step in front of him. I assume he’s heard everything since I have no clue as to how long he has been sitting here.
“Sure. Let me put my clothes away first. I’ll knock on your door in a minute.” He moves aside, and I pass him. I go into my room, hearing his door close after I close mine.
I’m not in a relationship, but I feel the stress of one. This must be what it feels like, overwhelming and confusing all the time.
Imminent Threat Page 25
