by Angel Lawson
I lift my chin, unwilling to concede I’m hurt that he knew that possibly before I did. “He’s the best.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty good too and Erwin didn’t pick me.”
“You think there’s a reason he sent him early?”
Jude sighs. “I think Erwin is aware of how close you are and doesn’t want distractions.”
“Yeah, he mentioned the fact that I’m a distraction to everyone in this battle. Chloe, Cole…I guess Wyatt counts too.”
He looks at my pile of belongings on the floor and says, “You want to take a walk? Get some fresh air?”
I scrunch my nose. “I’m not sure I’m good company right now.”
“Alex, we’re probably all going to die tomorrow. At least all of us non-mutated, still-human types. We shouldn’t spend it alone.” He nudges my foot. “Let’s get some air.”
I can’t help but laugh because he’s right. So very, very right.
“Too bad you don’t have any muscadine wine?” That’s what we drank the last night we were together.
“We’re in Kentucky. I think we’re stuck with bourbon.” He offers me a hand. I stare at it for a minute. “Come on, sitting in here, alone, isn’t going to help.”
I roll my eyes but take his hand. In an instant I’m standing toe-to-toe. “Just a walk. Don’t drag me into something crazy.”
“When have I ever led you down the wrong path?”
Over the last year there have been so many paths and so many mistakes and so many decisions I’ve come to regret. My biggest may come tomorrow and Jude’s right. I should spend my last night as a human with another human.
*
Jude and I circle around the familiar blocks of Main Street and I remember how much I love this kid. From the second we found him in that house outside Augusta, the oldest man in a house of children and women, he’d been a presence in my life. I didn’t know then we’d go through so much together or that he’d end up a leader in the rebellion, learning from the best.
His face no longer carries the soft flesh of that kid. He’s not that much older than I am but he’s aged—just like everyone else. His jaw is wide. His cheekbones high. I notice his beard grows thicker than before. There are also thin lines that tug at his mouth and others near his eyes. He used to want to be a minister. I’m too afraid to ask if he still does.
Once we leave the main drag it only takes a moment to realize we’re following the familiar path to the gym where Jackson taught Walker, Jane, and I how to really fight. I shouldn’t be surprised they found out about this place. It’s off the main grid of Catlettsburg and the perfect place to blow off steam.
“How are you doing?” he asks me once we step off the sidewalk and cross over a wide, abandoned parking lot. “Like, really doing?”
“It’s been an adjustment,” I admit. “Those six months with Chloe were…” I search for a word and finally come up with, “long.”
“We were worried about you guys. Paul had to talk Wyatt and me out of going for you more than once.” His face reveals the guilt he feels over that.
“I understand why you couldn’t. It was just too risky. So many other variables at play.” I feel like a stooge, repeating Erwin’s words from before.
Jude nods but I can tell from the haunted look he didn’t agree. They were men following orders. Not just the orders of a superior, but of a Mutt holding all the cards.
I reach for his arm before we start down the street toward the gym. “Did Green really volunteer to turn into a Mutt.”
He glances at his feet. “Yeah. Wyatt tried to talk him out of it, but he was determined. Something about honor and duty—seeing this whole thing through.”
“Sounds like he’s not planning on coming back.”
Jude shrugs. “Are any of us? He just wants to take out as many of those bastards as he can.”
“Did Green tell you about this place?” I gesture to the warehouse.
“He did. We spent the last couple months working off our frustration in there. You up for a round?”
Maybe this is what he wanted to drag me out for. To get me fighting—or at the very least moving. It’s been weeks since I threw or took a punch. Not since Cole nearly split my ribs in two.
“It’s been a while.” I don’t even want to explain the last six months of Fight Club.
“Good. Maybe I can finally kick your ass.”
I laugh and he moves past me to open the door. Poor Jude, I think, passing him and getting a look at the musty, dirty ring. He has no idea what he’s in for.
Chapter Twenty
I try to sleep that night, alone in the apartment, but fail miserably. I’m dressed, awake, and ready when the knock comes on the door. Jude has been sent by Erwin as my escort. I now question our evening together. Was it just to keep an eye on me? Is Erwin that desperate to keep me away from the fight?
We step out of my building and onto the street. A chill rolls down my spine. It’s a ghost town. “Are we the only ones left?”
“We’re not the only ones going into hiding. The children have been taken somewhere secure. Erwin wanted to make Catlettsburg as unappealing as possible. You know if Chloe can’t further her mission she’s not interested.”
“My dad? Jane?”
“They’re safe.”
“So where are we going?” We’re approaching the looming, fortified gate. Part of me doesn’t want to leave. It’s been a long time since I was in a fight with someone other than Cole.
“Erwin gave me the coordinates for a bunker off the highway.”
“And he’s sure it’s not compromised? Chloe knows about those bunkers too.”
He nods and I spot two horses tied to the post near the gate. It never stops surprising me that we’ve shifted so easily back in time, using the same transportation as our ancestors. Jude helps me mount the horse and quickly hops on his own after offering a treat from his hand. I clutch the reigns, nervous, but I’d rather take the horse than a vehicle. Too noisy for a day like today.
We wait as two guards roll the gates backwards. They’re the first guard I’ve seen all morning. The only people we’ve seen at all. The entire place is functioning as a skeleton crew, everyone already on assignment. I don’t deny it feels weird to be left back.
We pass through the gate and I flinch as it rumbles shut, the metal clanging against the hard pavement. Everything seems even louder than normal, including the birds chirping in the trees. I’m struck with an eerie feeling I haven’t had in months.
“Does this feel weird to you?” I ask once we’re out of the shadow of the fence. We’ve got to get through the outskirts of the town—the barren commercial district that is a harsh reminder of where society has fallen.
“Does what feel weird to you?” He points to an abandoned yogurt shop. The windows are smashed and someone, at some point, tagged all the dancing yogurt cones and spoons with paint. I spot a bird’s nest in the O of the sign. “That all I can think about is ice cream right now? Even after all this time? Because if that’s weird then yeah, I’m feeling it.”
I roll my eyes but decide to push back my uneasiness. “I guess it’s just been a long time since I’ve been out on the road, you know?”
Jude nods and we trot through the outskirts of town toward the main road that will take us to the highway. From there it’s about ten miles to the bunker. The horses settle into an easy pace and the early morning sunrise over the farmland and fields helps brighten my mood.
“What do you think the end game will be for all of this?” Jude asks.
“For what? Today? This battle?”
He shakes his head. “No. Like in the future. Will we be able to rebuild? Will we have cities and schools and a government?”
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “It feels impossible to think that far ahead.”
“Yeah. I guess I just wish maybe we could get a do-over. Build small towns, create the type of place we want to live. Too bad people are so…”
“So w
hat?”
“So terrible, I guess.”
I laugh because it’s true, but then the idea makes me want to cry because the humans are few and far between now. The Hybrids and Mutts can take us over easily and we’ll end up living how they want to live.
“We have to fight, you know.”
“Fight who? Chloe?” he asks.
“Chloe. The Hybrids.” I wrap the reins around my hand and give him a glace. “Erwin and the Mutts.”
He grunts in reluctant agreement, eyes narrowed and his jaw tense. “So what, we start another war? One we definitely can’t win?”
“No. I don’t want a war but I’m hoping maybe Jane can fix this.”
He raises and eyebrow. “Talk about risky.”
“What if there was another option? Like something else we could do. A way to get stronger but not go all the way down the rabbit hole.”
“I’d say you’ve been hanging out with your sister too much.” He jerks his chin down the road. We’re approaching a section of highway lined with cars. From our distance it looks like they were abandoned early on, probably an accident. Scenes like this no longer affect me emotionally. Not the children’s car seats in the back or the owners’ belongings strewn across the grass by scavengers. Not even the occasional sight of a dead body withering away. We are halfway down the alley of vehicles when my horse twitches and jumps to the side. Jude reaches his hand out to me, grabbing for my reins, and I struggle to calm the giant animal.
He frowns. “Do you see that?”
Up ahead in the middle of the road is a dark stain. No, not a stain but something wet. A spill. I reach for my hatchet with one hand and feel for my gun with the other.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say quietly.
He nods and spurs his horse to a gallop. Mine mimics his and we’re off to a run, weaving out of the cars and onto the grassy shoulder. Jude is moving quickly when he pulls back suddenly. His horse neighs in protest.
“Shit,” he says, looking around frantically.
I finally see what made him stop. Two dead Eaters, separated from their heads, lay on the ground. The cuts are clean. Three feet away is another body—this one human. A Fighter or Mutt from Erwin’s army. There’s a bullet wound in the center of his forehead.
“Who did this?” My heart pounds in my ears and I’m not sure I speak loud enough for him to hear me. “Do you see any others?”
“No, but we’ve got to get to the bunker.”
The horses are spooked and I try to get mine under control. Luckily Jude is more skilled and he gets the animal to push forward, charging down the side of the road. Mine follows.
It’s not hard to see that someone has been here before us, but it’s hard to tell if they are human or Eaters. The unkempt grass is flattened in places, pressed down by the weight of a body. My heart rate doesn’t settle until we’re past the stretch of abandoned vehicles.
“That was weird,” I call to Jude. He slows enough so that we’re side by side.
“Definitely weird.”
“I mean, those were fresh kills, right?”
He nods, but there’s nothing but land in front of us to give us a clue. Just never-ending useless highways and overgrown forests, creeping slowly toward the pavement.
“How far are we?”
He scrunches his forehead. “Maybe a mile.”
“Let’s go—”
A scream—a very human scream—pierces my thought.
Our reaction shows how jaded we are. We look at one another for the excuse to stay on our path. I almost tell him to forget it, that we have orders, but another cry echoes through the trees followed by three close gunshots.
“Fuck.” Jude tightens the reins and I’ve already got my horse on the run.
We push through the tree line, which is my least favorite place to be when Eaters are around. Things get confusing and I never know if I’m going in the right direction. Fortunately, it’s not a real forest, just a copse of trees buffering the once-busy highway and a stretch of farmland.
Unfortunately, the instant we cross onto the land all hell breaks loose.
In the middle of the field, stacked end to end, are bales of hay. Three people stand on top. Dozens of Eaters spill from a large barn at the top of the hill, headed straight toward them.
I don’t even know where to begin but the decision is made for me when one fast moving Eater notices us on the side of the field. He’s going full speed, dressed in jeans and a surprisingly clean T-shirt. I clench my hatchet in my hand, landing a solid blow to his head, splattering blood across his chest.
“We need to charge them,” Jude shouts. “Get to the people and ride out of here.”
My horse is already panicking, jerking at each gunshot from across the field. My arms ache from trying to control him. “That’s not going to work.”
“Maybe they should run for it,” he suggests.
“Or maybe we should lead them away, then they can run for it.”
That idea seems to stick and I take a deep breath for courage. I hold up my hatchet and tighten the reins, praying I don’t fall off the horse.
“Hey! Face munchers!” I shout to the Eaters. “Over here!”
I let the horse go wild and I just simply try to hold on as he runs like the wind around the field. Jude does the same but goes the other direction and I won’t lie—there’s no method to our madness other than distracting the Eaters. It works and at least half lumber in our direction, tripping over the too-tall grass and one another. I’m halfway around the field when I get a better look at the people on the hay.
“Alex!” Jane calls, waving her gun in the air.
“Jane?” I realize then that the others are Finn and Mary Alice. How they got to that hay bale alive is a mystery. Nearly as much of one is what the hell are they doing out here in the first place?
The whole field is in chaos and after a flurry of gunfire from the others my horse finally has had enough, bucking me off into the grass. I land at the feet of a group of Eaters. Their shoes are clean and scuff free. Their howls rattle my ears and I curse the fact I’m back out here again. That this fight will never end.
I reach for my gun in the back of my pants and cock the trigger, shooting three in close proximity. They fall forward and I roll out of the way, scrambling with the thick grass to get on my feet.
“Alex!” Jane yells again. I race toward the bales of hay, dodging the greedy hands of the infected. One chases me down and I take a dangerous second to stop, spin, and blindly swing the hatchet at her head. I miss the neck but connect at the ear and it’s enough to do the job. I fight to get the weapon out of her skull. I wrench it out, falling back two steps and landing into something—someone hard. Hands steady my elbows and I turn, knee raised. I stop short when I come nose to nose with Finn.
“That was close,” he says, dropping his hands to cover his crotch.
“We’ve got to run. But where?” The others are running toward us. Jude is across the field shouting. Jane fires her gun, taking down an Eater reaching for Mary Ellen, and we all duck and flinch. Chaos builds as we’re mostly all in one place.
“Back to the barn? They all came from there. Maybe it’s empty.” Finn suggests.
It’s not a great plan but we need shelter. The catch with the Eaters is they aren’t terribly fast, they can just overtake you if you’re in a tricky situation. This situation is beyond tricky. Too many on all sides. The barn up at the top of a hill. Too many inexperienced fighters.
“Meet you at the top,” I say, once I realize they’re waiting for me make the decision. I take off in a sprint, heading straight at Eaters, pushing weaker ones out of my way and pausing just to incapacitate others. It’s a slog and from the corner of my eye I watch Jude do the same thing on the other side of the field. I push and kill and run and slash and fight and climb. Halfway to the building, Finn and his long legs pass me and I’m relieved to have a break from taking the brunt. I’m nearly at the top of the sloping hill when I hear Ma
ry Ellen cry behind me.
Despite my resolve not to stop, I do it anyway, finding Mary Ellen on the ground and two Eaters bearing down. Jane cracks one in the skull but it does little to stop him. His growls are louder than the others and he pounces like a cat on the ill-equipped girl.
It’s at a time like this I really wish Walker and Davis were here.
“Shoot him,” I shout at Jane, but we’re now all targets of the latest wave of Eaters. They press down from all sides. I split the cheek of the one nearest me, and chop off the hand of another grabbing at my foot. I kick a woman in the face, her teeth still a brilliant, leering white.
Another sound rises above the cacophony, the rev of a motor—something so foreign to my ears that it takes a minute to place. The noise brings the Eaters to a surprising halt, their moans and growls cut off for a brief second—one we use to collect ourselves and massacre those closest to us.
The reprieve is short and they lose interest in the mechanical beast. My curiosity piques when I spot a small but fast-moving vehicle burst from the barn.
It’s a four-wheeler of some kind and there are two figures in the front. It zips in our direction, the wheels wide and fat, running easily over Eaters in their path.
“Hurry! Over here!” I shout as though they can’t see us. I jump over dead bodies and the now-muddy, clumped grass of the field. The small vehicle stops with a jerk and the three of us race over, Mary Ellen throwing herself in Finn’s arms. He lifts her off the ground and Jude gives me a hand. I return the gesture with my sister and we’re off the ground in the flat space behind the seats.
“Get the hell out of here,” Jane says as the remaining Eaters move in our direction.
“I don’t know where I’m going!” Finn cries, holding his hands up.
“Back to the road, back on track. We need to get to that bunker now.”
The boy slams his foot on the gas and we fly forward with a spastic lurch. I clutch the back of the seat with one hand and another is still wrapped tight in my sister’s. Finn careens down the field back to the tree line and I take a breath, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline as it courses through my veins. As the Eaters’ howls are left behind, I stare at the blood and dirt stains on my hands and I know in this moment this is what I’m born to do.
