The Girl who Shot First: The Death Fields

by Angel Lawson

  The distraction works—at least a little and the mindless Eater’s shift toward the explosion. I wind up again and throw the next one in a different location, while I hear the grunts from Cole down below, beating off the closest ones with the butt of his bow.

  Wyatt moves the truck forward slowly and I wipe my forehead, sticky with sweat and from the looks of it Eater blood. Maybe my own? I don’t know. My ears ring from gunshots and explosions. I reach for another grenade but Richardson hands me my hatchet instead and gestures for me to fight below. I drop down to help the twins and hack away at the ones trying to get inside.

  Leaning over the back tailgate I chop away at the hands trying to get inside. Pale, dirty hands. Caked in blood and guts. Even over the sulfur they reek, no longer smelling like humans. The longer this virus holds on the less alive these people are.

  Richardson bangs on the top of the cab. “Faster man, we’re running out of ammunition and time.” Wyatt picks up the pace, but that makes the back of the truck rock and lurch. The explosions have amped up the remaining Eater’s—they’ve got too much anger—hunger. I crack a female with long matted hair in the head with the hatchet and her head splits open like a melon. The insides are black with death.

  God.

  I look ahead and see that we’re close to the main road, and the hoard is thinning out. Carnage lies behind us, but we’re not completely in the clear. The truck drags from the bodies beneath it. Literal road kill.

  “Hold on,” Wyatt yells from the cab. He shifts the truck into gear and again it lurches forward as he tries to dislodge the bodies. I fly forward landing face first on the dirty, hard tuck bed. Chloe screams and I scramble to get up but all I see are boots and feel a scuffle over my head.

  “Chloe!” Cole yells as I roll to the side. An Eater has her by the neck, dragging her halfway out of the truck. Her feet kick in front of me, trying to hold on and I grab them, my muscles aching, to pull her back.

  Cole moves fast and hard, slamming the butt of his bow into the Eater’s decaying head. Even from below I hear the crack and Chloe’s ragged breathing. The truck lurches again, this time faster and harder and everyone else tumbles to the bed with me. Everyone but Richardson who wobbles backwards. He reaches for something to hold on to but the ragged canvas top is too compromised. With a panicked, pissed off look in his face, he topples over the side of the truck.

  “Get him!” Davis yells diving after him. Cole holds him back and God love him, Richardson jumps to his feet. He doesn’t even stop to assess the situation—the fact he’s so terribly outnumbered. He starts swinging, kicking ass and cracking skulls. He’s got a crazy smile on his face when the closest Eater’s descend—they’ve been waiting to sink their teeth in one of us all night and from the look on his face he’s been waiting to dish it out—one by one until he’s got nothing left. I reach for my hatchet, but Cole’s hand wraps around mine.

  “Go!” Richardson screams at us, just as a massive Eater tears into his shoulder. He locks eyes with Davis and holds a fist in the air. “Do it for the FF!”

  “No!!” Davis yells, but he’s also holding his fist in the air. Wyatt moves the truck forward, finally gaining full speed with the Eater’s occupied.

  We’re driving away when the scream pierces my skull and I look away, down at my dirty pants covered in dust and blood. I should watch, acknowledge what he’s done for us, but I don’t. I’m weak and exhausted and this world has turned me into someone I don’t like.

  ***

  The water in the pot is boiling—perfect to try to burn away the blood staining my hands, to wash my face…anything to cleanse the darkness of where we are.

  “Are you okay?” Chloe asks. We’re in the bathroom together sharing the pot of water. She’s wearing only a bra and fatigues and the ring of bruises left by the Eater are clearly visible. No scratches…that I can see. “What did they do to you there?”

  She’s seen my own bruises. The speckled tracks left by the needles on the inside of my arms. I turn and look around the industrial bathroom located in the back of some junkyard Wyatt brought us to. The place is fenced in and abandoned. Nothing but heaps of rusted out cars and a couple of garage bays.

  I open my mouth to speak but thankfully, a tap on the door interrupts whatever response I was planning on giving her.

  She pulls a clean shirt over her head and cracks open the door. Wyatt’s tired face peeks through the opening.

  “I need to talk to Alex when you’re done,” he says. I nod and continue to scrub my hands. He’s right, we do need to talk.

  Chloe shuts the door and gathers her small bag of belongings. “If you need anything, I’m around—hopefully eating something. I’m freaking starving.”

  I finish packing up my own bag, laying the wet shirt I washed over a metal rod on the wall. I enter the first garage and see the ninjas and Walker. They’re sitting in a circle with a bottle of something brown. The soldier lifts her glass in salute—toasting Richardson. Something tightens in my chest and I look down at my feet. It sucks losing people—even when you don’t know them. Or really even like them.

  “Hey,” Cole says when I pass him. “You should eat something.” He offers me an open can of soup with the handle of a spoon sticking out. He has two others open at his feet. My stomach groans at the sight and I take it.

  “Do you know where he went?” I ask sniffing the can. Chicken noodle. He gave me the good stuff.

  “Wyatt?” he asks, a crease forming across his forehead.

  “Yeah.”

  He nods toward a door. “He just went out that door.”

  “Thanks for the soup,” I say scooping up a spoonful and tasting it. Even cold it provides a rush of familiarity. Salt and childhood.

  The crease deepens and he says, “Be careful, you know?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I go out the door and it leads to a covered garage. We’re outside but the entire place is surrounded by a high fence, or so Wyatt says. I have little doubt he knows exactly where we are.

  The crickets are loud and the air is muggy and warm. Wyatt waits for me on the hood of a rusted, light blue muscle car with no doors. A lantern sits on the ground near his feet. I sit next to him, carefully holding my can of soup in one hand and securing my hatchet in the other. That’s right, I don’t trust this guy, at all.

  “So were you ever going to tell me about PharmaCorp?” I ask cutting right to the chase.

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably not. Not until I had to.”

  “So what’s the deal? Did they hire you to get me? Do they have my dad?”

  He rubs his jaw as though he’s hesitant to tell the truth but says, “Yes, they hired me to track you and make sure you didn’t get into the hands of the military.”

  “Well, you suck at your job then.”

  He laughs. “It looks that way, although blowing up Erwin’s compound was a different part of the job—so two birds, one stone.”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s okay with you that Cole and I were held captive and I was poked and prodded for days on end because it made blowing up the base easier for you? You’re un-freaking-believable.”

  “What do you want from me, Alex? This is what I do. I’m a paid mercenary. I take money to do the dirty work no one else wants to—and during the apocalypse it’s a skill that is pretty valuable.”

  “God, you’re disgusting.”

  “Maybe. But are you sure you know who the good guy is here? How do you know PharmaCorp isn’t in the right? Maybe your dad is with them right now because he wants to be.”

  “Is he?” I ask jumping up and kicking the lantern over with my foot. It spins in a circle. I pick it back up and rest it on the ground. “Do you know where my dad is?”

  “No, but I’m your best shot at finding him.”

  “What? So I’m just supposed to believe that? That if I follow you to your creepy, terrorist bosses then I “may” find my dad?”

  “And your sister.”

  I
snap my head. “What did you say?”

  “Isn’t that where you’re going? Who you’re really looking for? Jane?”

  Bile along with fury rises in my throat. “You knew all along?”

  He leans back on the car. “Alexandra Ramsey, age 18, class Valedictorian, 1580 on her SATs. Early acceptance to Duke University, class of 2020. Pre-med with a focus on research. Runs a ten minute mile. Best friend, Liza—”

  That’s when I haul off and punch him in the jaw, then again in the stomach. I reach for the hatchet, hanging in my belt loop but he grabs both of my wrists before I work it free.

  “That’s enough,” he says close to my face.

  “You knew the whole time—everything.”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “How long were you following me? Us?”

  “Since before you left Raleigh,” he says this without a glimpse of remorse.

  “The whole time? When we stayed at the apartment and met Paul? And then later, when those crazy people chased us down with their psycho trucks?”

  “Who do you think took them out?” His cool eyes hold mine.

  “That was you?”

  “Part of the team, yes.”

  “Holy crap, Wyatt.” My mind spins. “What…why didn’t you just take us at the beginning? Get it over with?”

  “Those weren’t my orders, Alex.”

  A sick feeling spreads through my stomach and I wrestle away from him. “Did you know Cole was following us too?”

  “No, but I recognized him from the dossier of information I’d been given about your father and decided it was better to keep him close.” His jaw tenses. “Plus you like having him around.”

  I scoff and cross my arms over my chest. “Sure, because this is all about what I want.”

  We stand across from one another, quiet. I have no idea where to go from here. Running doesn’t seem like an option. And run where? To Jane? Even I have to admit it’s unlikely she’s anywhere I will find her on my own. My first priority has to be the information left to me by my dad. The only person who can take me to it is standing in front of me in a tight, muscle molding, light blue t-shirt. Dammit.

  “If I ask you something will you tell me the truth?”

  Wyatt considers this for a moment and then says, “If I can, yes.”

  “What happens to me at PharmaCorp?”

  “Give them what they want and you become a hero.”

  “My blood?”

  He shakes his head. “This isn’t about your blood, Alex, even though it may have initiated your father’s work. Erwin is batshit crazy and was never going to find that antidote without the information your father left you and your sister.”

  “You know about that?” I ask. Of course he does.

  “In theory everyone involved knows about it. That is what everyone wants, the two pieces of the puzzle. Erwin thought he could torture it out of you and when that didn’t work he thought he could torture me to get it out of you. Erwin just never realized how far reaching PharmaCorp is. They have fighters everywhere.”

  “Who is PharmaCorp working for? Why did they unleash this on everyone?”

  “They’re working under the concept that they are saving the world from extremists,” he says keeping his eyes level to mine. “They’ve recruited the best to put a stop to the groups terrorizing and oppressing people all around the word.”

  “Do you believe this? They unleashed a bio-weapon they couldn’t control. They’ve killed just as many innocents as any other terrorist group.”

  He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter what I believe, but I do want that antidote created. Otherwise we’re all screwed.”

  I sigh and rub my head. “This is a nightmare.”

  “Now you know why your father went underground.”

  “Is that an option?” I smile weakly. “Because I’m okay with that one too.”

  “Nope.”

  “I didn’t think so.” I pick up my can of soup and stir it around. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll take you to the packet if you’ll help me find my sister—but you have to promise me that once we give them the information we’re free to go.”

  He gives me a short nod. “Done.”

  “I’m not finished,” I say and get a small sense of pleasure from the frown on his face. “You’re going to help me find my dad and you’re going to help us get away from all of this. Somewhere PharmaCorp, Erwin and the god forsaken Eaters can’t find us until this whole thing blows over.”

  “Why do you think I can do that?” he asks.

  I roll my eyes. “I’ve seen your ninja skills, dude. I’m pretty sure you’ve got more than one secret hideout around here.”

  He grins. “It’s possible.”

  “So, do we have a deal?” I ask offering my hand. Without hesitation, he clasps mine in his own. I hope he can’t feel the tremble in my fingers. I don’t trust Wyatt. Not one bit but to get out of this alive and back to my family I’ve made a deal with the devil. Now I have to live with it.

  ***

  The next day is for sleeping. Eating. And general refueling. I make a bed for myself in the backseat of a moldy smelling Chevy and pass out. When I wake it’s dark outside. We leave at dawn so I start packing, sorting and arranging my life in the tiny compartments of my backpack.

  “You about ready?” Cole says sliding into the front seat and peering over the headrest.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’re okay with the plan to follow Wyatt?”

  Deep in one of the pockets I come across something small and metal. I pull out my mother’s wedding ring. It feels like months since we left the house when it’s only really been about five weeks. What would she think of all this? Wyatt. Cole. PharmaCorp.

  She’d probably pull the blankets over her head and pray that when she woke up it was all a terrible nightmare.

  Before Cole can ask about it, I shove the ring back inside my pocket. “We don’t have any other choice.”

  “Are you sure because I don’t trust him—any of them, Alex.”

  I laugh. “And you think I do?”

  He reaches forward and brushes the stray hair out of my eyes. “I’ve still got your back, you know that, right? You can trust me.”

  I look in his blue eyes. The only eyes I’ve known since before this all happened and admit that after everything we’ve been through I believe him. I can trust Cole. But Cole can’t get me back my family. And he can’t assure me safety—even if it comes at a high price.

  “We’ll get through this,” I say zipping up the bag and exiting the back seat. “And save the world while doing it.”

  ***

  As promised, the first thing Wyatt does after we leave the garage is take us to the truck. My truck. He left it tucked in one of the hundreds of weathered, falling down barns that litter the roads in rural South Carolina. The sense of happiness that overcomes me when I see it is ridiculous. I guess that’s what happens when you have nothing left. Things and people you barely know take on a sense of importance. It’s what makes us human. And humans are in increasingly rare shortage lately.

  With any luck we can fix that.

  I find the pouch where I’d stashed it—under the driver’s seat. I loop it around my neck and get in the truck. Chloe slides in next to me, while Cole and Walker sit in the back, weapons ready. Walker is my subtle reminder from Wyatt not to make a run for it. He shouldn’t worry. I have no intention on breaking my word. I just have to trust that he’s going to do the same.

  The truck rumbles to life with familiarity and again I feel a little sentimental. It’s probably the exhaustion. Wyatt waves out the window of the truck and we follow the others off the property.

  In the time Cole and I were locked up at the base things have changed outside. Before we could go hours without encountering anyone alive or infected. After we pass the third shambling Eater in a short time I ask Chloe, “Why do you think there are so many more Eater’s around?”

  “I think people could o
nly stay holed up so long. Only so much water and food. At some point they had to come out—and as we know, being outside is dangerous.”

  No wonder it wasn’t hard for Erwin to gather a defensive army of Eater’s to surround the base. “They seem different now, don’t you think?”

  “I noticed that too yesterday. Their insides are rotten, but they also seem less alert—more mob mentality.”

  “Great. We’ve got two hundred miles between here and Augusta. Do you think we’ll make it?”

  “Yes, unless we breakdown, run out of gas, get attacked by the military or run into a horde like yesterday…” She gestures to the truck in front of us. “But for real, with Wyatt leading the pack? I’ve got no doubt.”

  Her words hold no weight but they make me feel better. And she’s right about Wyatt. I glance in the rearview mirror and spot Cole’s shaggy blond hair whipping around his face. “What will you guys do once we get there?”

  Wyatt and I agreed not to share our agreement with the others. The fewer people who know about the information I’ve got the better.

  “I don’t know. God knows if PharmaCorp will even still be there. I just hope it includes a bed and a warm shower.” She looks at me. “What are you planning on doing?”

  “Not sure,” I lie. “Like you, a break would be good.” She shakes her head and I catch her roll her eyes. “What?”

  “Don’t pretend like you won’t follow that man wherever he goes.” She tilts her head toward the cargo truck.

  “Wyatt?” I ask. “Uh, why would you say that?”

  “You two are all wound up in one another. He just about flipped when you went missing. I thought he may tear up half of the state to get you back.”

  I fight a dark laugh. If she only knew why he wanted me back. To him I’m a job. Money. Nothing more. “Yeah, well, Wyatt has his reasons for doing the things he does. Don’t mistake it for something that it’s not.”

  “Whatever,” she says. “Just don’t think I haven’t noticed his interest in you or that my brother hasn’t either.”

  I tighten my grip on the wide, cracked leather steering wheel. “There’s nothing going on between Wyatt and me.”

  Another lie. Well, a half-lie. I think she’s implying something romantic.