The Girl who Shot First: The Death Fields

by Angel Lawson

  “Hey girl,” she says, stretching on her back. Her bones crack, shifting with age and she groans against the stiffness of sleeping on the floor. She blinks several times, acclimating to the light. If she’s anything like me every time she wakes up she has to reconcile the world we now live in. A heavy line creases across her forehead. “What’s wrong?”

  I pull my knees up to my chin and wrap my arms around them. “Where do you think the cats are?”

  “What?”

  I gesture to the tower of food. “The cats…where do you think they went in all this?”

  She looks at the food as though it’s the first time she’s noticed it. It probably is. “Cats are pretty resilient. They’re probably hunting mice in the fields.”

  I stare at the cans. Then down at my toes. Then at the door where Roger Upton stopped talking some time ago. I hope the battery died. I hope there’s no one on the other side of the door.

  “I don’t think I can do it.”

  “Do what?” she asks more awake now. She bends her knee, grimacing a little at the stiffness.

  “This. This whole thing anymore. The killing and the running.”

  Her stomach makes a noise—a gurgle of hunger. She rummages in her bag and digs out a couple pieces of bread and a jar of peanut butter. I watch her slowly spread the brown butter with a plastic knife across the crumbly, drying out bread. She hands me one and takes a bite of the other. I watch her chew, taking her time until she finally says, “I don’t want to do it anymore either, but…”

  “No buts,” I say. “Let’s just…stop. Can we stop?”

  She holds me in a stare, the kind that she gave me when I lied about my book report in the third grade and forged her name. She found out and made me apologize to my teacher. It’s the look that says ‘I know you don’t want to do this but you have to do this so suck it up, Alex. We can’t stay in a laundry room forever with stale air and nothing to eat but cat food and.’

  “I know you’re tired, honey. And scared. I’m terrified.”

  “So, let’s give up. Can we not give up?” The words sound rational in my head but crazy once they leave my mouth. I know you can’t just stop. It’s not the Ramsey way. That’s not how you get to be valedictorian.

  She reaches for me, her warm hand covering mine. “We can’t give up. We promised your father. We owe it to your sister.”

  Jane. For some reason I try not to think about her. She’s all alone in the middle of a big city with no support. Dad obviously looped her in on this thing too—he made that clear before he left but does she know that? What did he tell her?

  But most of all I worry I’ll never find her or worse, that there’s no one left to find.

  I know that I’m just having some sort of breakdown, although at the same time I think the reality of life has finally hit home. The one where Roger Upton is a thing of the past. Where chained up Eaters are my present. And killing things—yes things—is definitely the future.

  “We won’t be the same people when we find them,” I say examining the bread and tearing off a small corner turning green with mold.

  “No, I don’t suppose we will be,” she says. “Maybe we’ll be better.”

  I shove the sandwich in my mouth and force down the dry bread and gooey peanut butter. Even now my mother lives in a fantasy but maybe that makes her better equipped to deal with all of this?

  “Something is really bothering you—other than what you’ve said. What is it?”

  I look down at my hands and say, “What if one of us gets attacked? What if we get sick?”

  “Then I guess we’ll do what we have to.”

  “Which is what?” I know what but I need to have this conversation. I want to know what is expected of me. “Because I don’t want to get left out there in a silly kitty cat shirt trying to eat people. I don’t want that to happen.”

  My mother reaches for me. She pulls me close and into a tight hug. With as much time as we’ve spent together lately it hasn’t been like this. “Alexandra, I know you think I’m a mess and I’m flaky and read too much.”

  “No-” I argue.

  “You do,” she says but laughs. “It’s true, but I’m also a mother and to be a mother you have to have a lot of strength. I have the strength to take care of us when I need too.”

  I know she means that she’ll take me out of my flesh eating misery. I nod. “I guess that means I have to be ready too.”

  “Yep.”

  We sit together quietly until she says, “Come on,” and shakes her head at the tower of cat food. “Let’s get out of here. All those little yellow eyes are freaking me out.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  ~Now~

  Days pass and a consistent routine develops. I’m strapped to the chair in the lab and they take blood. I eat and sleep in my room. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

  As I’m escorted from my dorm room one morning the tension in the lab becomes noticeably thick. Even with their blue masks it’s pretty clear the Drones are stressed. The reason becomes clear when I hear Erwin shout, “We’re no closer to the cure than when she first got here!” Loud enough for the whole lab to hear.

  “Maybe,” a brave Drone says. “The information we had about her is inaccurate.”

  Erwin’s face turns beet red. “Did I give you permission to speak?”

  “N-n-no, sir.” The Drone looks ready to sink into the ground.

  “Do not question my authority again. Perform another test.” The Colonel turns back to this office mumbling about geeks and nerds and how when the G-D world fell apart it would be on their shoulders.

  Ouch.

  I catch Cole’s eye across the room. He’d been brought in when it was clear the Drones had no idea what they were looking for or how to actually make the vaccine. A guard, usually Richardson, stands over him at all times. We’re no closer to figuring a way to get out of here and at this rate, the only people left uninfected by the E-TR virus will probably be the Drones and officers trapped in here with us.

  That idea alone strengthens my resolve to get out of here. Over the last couple of days, I’ve had the opportunity to study the lab. Most of the workers are at the long tables in the middle of the room. They have access to pretty high tech supplies from what I can tell. There are no windows or other exits other than a metal door square in the back of the room. I’ve only seen military personnel go in and out, using a keypad and code. I can’t help but wonder if it may be our way out of here.

  Walker enters the small cubicle where I’m strapped to the chair. She checks the fluids and loosens the Velcro around my wrists. My arms are a wreck. Dark bruises from the needles and my wrists are rubbed raw from the restraints.

  “Thanks,” I say quietly. She’s nice to me but not in a way anyone would notice. Just little things, like not treating me like a piece of trash. “Any idea how much longer they’re going to keep me here today?”

  To my shock she answers, “Despite Erwin’s freak out, I think they’re making some progress. They’ve lined up an experiment to test the first round of vaccines.”

  “Seriously? They figured it out?” I can’t decide if I’m happy or not about this. I certainly rather not be their personal guinea pig any longer.

  “It’s just a first round. It took your father months to get this far. Without his research they’re starting from scratch. Even your boyfriend wasn’t privy to how the vaccine actually worked.”

  I glance at Cole, who is busy leaning over a microscope. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  She shrugs.

  “No really, he’s not. He’s just…some guy.”

  Walker turns to face me and asks suddenly, “Can I ask you something?”

  “Uh, sure, I guess.”

  “Why were you on the run from us? Shouldn’t you do what you can for the country? You could be the solution to this whole freaking disaster.”

  “I wasn’t on the run,” I say. “I was trying to take care of my family. My father never told me about his work—ev
er.”

  “You should have reported to the emergency center and saved us all some trouble.”

  “If I’m the savior you’re telling me I am, then why do you guys keep treating me like a piece of crap? Like a prisoner?”

  “You do realize historically what has happened to those who can potentially save mankind? Ever hear of Jesus Christ? It’s not like he got a warm welcome.”

  She did not just compare me to Jesus. I roll my eyes at her theatrics. “You guys are desperate and I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m not the answer any more than anything else you guys have been working on.”

  The soft expression I’d come to expect from Walker shifted into a menacing snarl. “You better hope you’re the answer, Alex, because a lot of people are counting on you. Some closer to you than you think.”

  I strain to sit up but the straps at my wrists and ankles hold me back. “What does that mean? Who are you talking about?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough and when you do, you’ll wish you’d cooperated a little more willingly.” She leans forward. “Now is the time to confess to anything you may know. Any information you may have, before it’s too late.”

  I think about the pouch hidden in the truck. God knows where it even is—where Wyatt and Chloe have taken it or abandoned it. “Whatever. I’ve already told you everything I know—which is nothing. Keep me here. Poke me with needles. Do whatever you need to try to stop this crazy epidemic. No one can say I’m not a team player.”

  She gives me a long look, one that becomes even more unnerving when it morphs back her professional, stone-faced expression. Her hands reach for the binds, tightening the Velcro with a sharp pull. I wince and fight back tears. Walker leaves me alone in the room, bound to the chair. I know now, more than ever, that Cole and I have to get out of here—fast.

  ***

  Walker comes back and jerks the straps from my arms with a loud rip.

  “Get up,” she says.

  “Jesus, what the hell got into you?” I rub the inflamed skin on my wrists.

  Pushing me outside my cubicle door she directs me left, instead of taking me down the row between lab tables, heading straight to the back of the room.

  “Where are we going?” I ask searching to catch Cole’s eye across the room. No need—he’s already watching—eyes narrowed and concerned. Before I can react, Richardson yanks him up and pushes him in the same direction. I turn to Walker. “What’s going on?”

  “You’re going to a show. Front row seats.”

  We approach the door I’ve been so curious about—the one I’ve hoped can be of use. Despite Walker’s cryptic words I’m excited to get out of that chair and to do something different. Best case it’s an opportunity to learn more about the facility and possibly escape. Worst? Honestly, at this point I have no idea how things can get worse.

  Walker punches a code of numbers into the keypad and the lock clicks, opening the door. I’m escorted in first, swaying a little on my feet. The blood loss kicks in making me lightheaded. Cole jumps to my aid, holding me at the waist.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah. Just woozy sometimes. It passes.”

  I glance around the room, confused. It’s nothing more than a narrow corridor with four seats mounted with screws to the floor. The seats face the wall and there’s another door opposite of the one we just came through.

  “What is this?” I ask anyone who will answer. Cole shrugs, but I can tell he’s trying to figure it out too.

  “Sit down,” Walker says directing me to the chairs. I take one in the middle and Cole lowers himself into the seat next to mine.

  “Do you know anything about this?” I ask him. “Is this about the testing?”

  “Maybe.” He gestures forward and I notice that the wall in front of me isn’t a wall at all. It’s darkened glass—like a window we can’t see through. A queasy feeling rolls through my stomach.

  “Quiet,” Richardson says, his deep, rarely heard voice. The door clicks again and swings open, reveling Colonel Erwin. Walker and Richardson snap to attention. Cole and I just stare.

  “At ease,” he commands and barely spares us a second glance. “After weeks of diligent work and the donations from you both we are ready for phase one of testing the E-TR antidote. We thought you’d like to observe the experiment yourself and see how important it is that both of you give us one hundred percent dedication to the eradication of the E-TR virus.”

  I look at Walker, who pins me with a hard stare. She’s still not convinced I’m telling her everything. I guess Erwin isn’t either.

  He steps forward and presses a button on the wall. Reflective blinds slide open revealing another room. Two Drones in standard white lab coats stand on the other side. Two clear plexi-glass cages sit in the middle of the room. They each contain a single male. They’re wearing a gray shirt with a number taped on the front. Number 1028 is pale with reddish blond hair and panicked green eyes. The other guy, Number 1029, is a similarly aged and sized Hispanic male. His dark eyes dart back and forth. It’s obvious they can’t see us nor did they notice the blinds go up.

  “One of these men has been injected with the vaccine and the other actively has the virus.”

  “What?” Cole asks rising from his seat. Richardson pushes him back down. “What the hell is that going to prove?”

  “The one with the vaccine has passed all of the standard laboratory tests. We need to see how he fairs with an actual infected person.

  “You’re going to allow the Eater to infect him?” I ask my voice wobbly with rage. I look at the men. “That’s barbaric.”

  “This is war, Ms. Ramsey.”

  “No, Colonel Erwin, this is a health crisis. An epidemic. Not a war. God, and adults think we play too many video games.” I shake my head. “No wonder my father refused to work with you.”

  Erwin’s eyes narrowed at the mention of my dad. “Your father was a traitor, working against the United States in the War Against Terrorism. He assisted an illegal, radical, fringe group develop a biological weapon that was used in direct violation of international war laws.”

  My heart beat so hard in my chest I thought it would burst. Anger boiled under my skin. My father was many things but he loved his country. I’m about to jump out of my seat when Cole’s warm hand comes down on my arm.

  “Dr. Ramsey did not betray this country,” Cole says, his voice hard.

  “He did,” he says and points to the window and into the other room. Both men have become increasingly agitated. 1029 is visibly shouting at the Drones and 1028’s palms are pressed against the glass like he’s trying to break free. “Just like those men and now they must pay for their crimes by helping us resolve the E-TR infection.”

  “You’re fucking insane,” Cole mutters. Richardson moves swiftly and rams the butt of his gun into the side of Cole’s head. He slumps forward before jumping up. He spins, fists balled, ready to fight. Richardson levels his gun at Cole’s face.

  “Hey!” I shout, jumping between Cole and the gun. I look at Richardson. “Dude, lower the gun. I don’t want nerd brains all over my clothes, okay?”

  “What?” Cole asks rubbing his head. Richardson looks at Erwin and gets a nod of approval to lower his gun.

  “You’re batshit crazy,” I say to Erwin. “But you’ve got the power. What are we going to do? Fight our way out of here? A Lab Guy and a teenaged girl?” I sit back in my chair, pretending I’m above all this and not completely panicked about Cole’s head and the fact he almost got shot at close range. “Show us your deranged experiment but stop beating people.”

  “Alex,” Cole whispers. “You don’t want to watch this.”

  “We have no choice. Suck it up,” I tell him before glancing at Erwin. “Ready when you are, Colonel.”

  Erwin smiles and it’s disturbing. All sharp teeth. He presses the button again and smugly says, “Proceed.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  ~Before~

  13 Days Ago
/>
  I don’t find my courage for a while longer but eventually we leave the laundry room. The stench of the dead man lying on the living room floor has become unbearable.

  Without ever opening the door to the main house we scavenge what we can from the tiny room. There isn’t much but we do find a gallon of water to fill our bottles, a package of tea-candles and some extra clothes.

  I toss a bar of soap into my bag and a Tar Heel t-shirt hanging on a peg.

  “Alex,” my mom says. “Do you think these will work?”

  “What?” I’m digging through a cabinet hoping someone stashed a box of protein bars in here. There’s nothing but bottles of detergent. I hear the sound of metal jangling against one another and turn. She’s holding a ring of silver and brass keys. One in particular has a black fob.

  “Is that a car key?”

  “Yes,” her voice shakes.

  My heart lurches like I’ve been injected with a straight dose of hope. Shit. We’d decided not to drive out of Cary. The roads were a mess and the military was everywhere—making a vehicle a bad decision. But out here…in the country like this the highways and back roads are pretty clear.

  “What do you think?” she asks, a glimmer of excitement on her face.

  “Let’s try it,” I say.

  We creep away from the house, widely avoiding the decomposing body of the Eater I’d killed the night before. The late morning temperatures are already rising and the humidity is thick. We circled around to the carport and found a Honda SUV. Mom presses the fob and the doors unlock with a small click.

  Quickly we enter the car, shutting the doors and locking them. With my backpack in my lap I say, “Try it,” unable to hide my eagerness.

  The car sputters on the first crank but catches on the second. I don’t know why we were worried. The car starts easily. It’s a freaking Honda after all. They’re like the cockroaches of the apocalypse. Even the Eaters and the end of the world can’t take them down. I peer over the steering wheel and see that the tank is close to full.

  “You got the map?” Mom asks.