The Girl Who Kicked Ass: (The Death Fields Book 3)

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The Girl Who Kicked Ass: (The Death Fields Book 3) Page 5

by Angel Lawson


  “They’re back,” he says, eyes flicking over my shoulder to Cole.

  “Did they do it?”

  He nods. “They got the truck, but not without a fight. Parker is down in the med unit.”

  “She’s hurt? How bad?”

  “I don’t exactly know.” His eyes darken. “She’s been bit.”

  Chapter 10

  We race to the med unit and find Davis and Jude outside in a small waiting area. They’re dirty from battle, dark blood stained down the front of their uniforms. Jude paces like a caged tiger.

  “What happened?” I ask. The doors are locked, quarantine sign lit above the small window.

  “Everything went according to plan,” Davis says. “We definitely got the drop on them. They were unprepared and outmanned. Erwin’s unit easily fought the Hybrids while we secured the truck. Once the road was clear, we started for the base, going the detour route on the way back just in case we were being followed.”

  “Were you?” Cole asks.

  “No.” Jude says. “We got a flat. Tire just blew. Davis managed to keep it on the road but it was shredded.”

  Davis rubs his head. “I radioed back to the unit and told them to meet us with an alternate vehicle. We were still in the Death Fields, on a narrow mountain road. We needed to get out of there and come back later for the cargo.”

  The two men share a haunted look.

  “What happened to Parker?” I ask.

  “We got out of the truck to check the back for anything we could use. Parker stayed in the cab. I guess,” Jude says, voice wavering, “the Eaters heard the tire shred. Noise echoes out there.”

  “They poured down the hills. Sheer cliffs. I’ve never seen them move so fast.” Davis swallows. “We bolted for the cab, but before we got back we heard screams. The cab was swarmed. She had the door open and couldn’t shut it before one got in. She took him out but not before he got a piece of her.”

  I sink into the closest chair. “She’s vaccinated. She’ll be okay?”

  None of us has experienced a bite since vaccination, and understandably there’s a distrust to my sister’s incomprehensible science. Just because Jane says the vaccine works, should we trust the word of a madwoman? Are we really safe?

  “She lost a lot of blood before we could get her back here.”

  “So even if she survives the bite,” Paul says, “the attack may kill her.”

  Cole walks over to the wall and slams his fist against it, kicking the bottom for good measure. No one says a word, we all feel like kicking walls, or at least I know I do. But I know this can’t be good for him—he already feels added responsibility for Chloe and even Josie because he worked directly on the vaccine with my father before all hell broke loose and later at PharmaCorp. I know he feels a responsibility for me—he’s never backed down from the task my father gave him to protect me. But Parker’s life is not on his shoulders.

  I walk over and rest a hand on his back but he shrugs it off. “Not now, Alex.”

  “There’s nothing we can do, man,” Jude says. “We just have to wait.”

  Cole turns to face us, his jaw tight and eyes hard. He looks at his watch and says to me and Paul, “We have two hours until our first mission. I’ll meet you when it’s time to leave.” He turns on his heel and storms off.

  I start to follow but Paul grabs my arm. “Let him go.”

  “He’s a mess,” I say.

  “Good,” he says. “Today is going to be tough. Let him use it.”

  Chapter 11

  The following weeks are filled with work; hard work that leaves us bruised and exhausted. We hijack cargo trucks. We sabotage sewer systems, solar panels, and ambush food supplies. We round up prisoners, Fighters, and other workers loyal to Jane, caging them below Fort Arnold. The survivors? They’re given a choice. Go on your own or get the real vaccine and join up. Most agree to the latter and Erwin builds his army.

  I stare at my reflection in the truck’s side mirror. There’s a hard set to my jaw, lines are next to my eyes and at times I barely recognize myself. I see the same in my team. We’re real soldiers now, not just people playing them.

  Something strange happens between us. We’re closer than I could imagine. Like family. Maybe more than family, at least in my case. I learn their moves, how they carry their weapons. We fall into a dance, a rhythm, while we watch Jane’s carefully built society start to crumble, if only on the edges.

  But even with that familiarity, there’s something else happening with our team. We retreat into ourselves, building walls to get through the battles, form thick skins of protection with our emotions. Chloe taught us that. Almost losing Parker confirmed it.

  The truck lurches in and out of a pothole and I grab on to the dash to hold steady. “Do you have to hit every one?” I ask, shaking my head at Davis.

  “I don’t hit every one.”

  He hits one.

  “That one was on purpose,” he says, eyes cut in my direction.

  “Sure.” I push my hair out of my eyes. It’s windy today and the temperature keeps dropping. “It’s like you’re giving them a warning signal.”

  “Trust me,” Jude says from the back, checking his gun. “They have no idea we’re coming for them today.”

  Them is the largest base that we know of other than The Fort. This one is on the outskirts of Columbia in a large middle school. According to Erwin, it’s an active evacuation center about to turn testing lab. Erwin wants the survivors out before testing begins, and apparently because the city of Columbia isn’t cleared, it makes it high risk for everyone. The facility is way too close to the Death Fields to go on much longer.

  It’s our biggest mission yet. So far we’ve kept things small and destructive. More of a nuisance than anything else, but this one will get Jane’s attention. Our goal is to take out the entire facility and bring back the Fighters and any personnel. We’ll get to the survivors and loop them in the system at Fort Arnold.

  “How many civilians are there?” Paul asks.

  Davis glances in the review mirror. “Intel says five hundred. It’s a big school, surrounded by a lot of property and a fortified fence. It’s how they’ve managed to keep going for so long.”

  “And they’re untrained?”

  “It looks like this facility is used similarly to PharmaCorp when we were there. Survivors are processed and given jobs based on their skills. Some filter into the Fighter training program, others are assigned to keep the facility running. Then a small portion that meet criteria are separated for the Hybrid program. The remaining people are scheduled for testing but as far as we know they haven’t begun.”

  “That’s a lot of people to handle,” Jude says, looking out the window. There’s nothing but countryside flashing by.

  “Erwin gave us a hundred soldiers. We can do this.”

  There’s no doubt we’re in over our head, but Davis is commanding our team while other officers take the lead with the soldiers. Our team’s goal is very specific: take control and hold the main office.

  We’re in position just before daybreak. From our experience at The Fort, this is the slow part of the day. The guards change at 6 am, after that the majority of the facility is either in the housing area or eating breakfast.

  “Each team will secure a particular area. There’s the gym, cafeteria, classroom wings, and the main office. We’re going for the administration building where documentation of their testing and protocol is held. The larger units will secure the other buildings,” Davis reminds us as we ready our weapons. We’ll stay in the truck as long as possible and move in once we get the signal.

  The night is apocalypse-quiet but in the faint daylight I spot five crows alight on the fence surrounding the school. They’re silent but alive. Waiting like spectators before a big game. I check my watch. We’re already behind schedule. I’m about to suggest we call on the Walkie for an update when we hear the first explosion.

  “Okay, they’re starting,” Jude says with
a nod. The second explosion goes off two minutes later and Davis starts up the truck. When we get to the gate we’re hoping only a skeleton crew will be there since the majority will be forced toward the explosions, but no one’s there.

  “The fence line is empty,” Paul confirms.

  Cole leans out the back window. “It’s not just the fence line,” he says. “It’s the whole freaking fence. It’s gone.”

  I stare at him for a second. It’s the first time he’s spoken all day after fighting bitterly last night to stay back with Parker, who is recovering slowly, but positively, from her wound. Davis shut his arguments down, claiming we needed a medic with us on the field. I’d nearly forgotten he was here.

  “Can you see anything else?” Paul asks.

  “No, it’s too dark. It just looks deserted.”

  The Walkie sputters to life in my hands and I hear the voice of another team leader. “The facility is under attack.”

  I press the button on the side. “Who’s attacking? Hybrids?”

  “Eaters. Dozens, if not more. They’ve surrounded the gymnasium.”

  “Are the civilians compromised?”

  “They’re holding them off but our arrival spooked them. We’re engaged.”

  “What’s your position?” I ask.

  “We’re--” the transmission breaks. So I ask again.

  “What’s your position?”

  In the distance another bomb goes off, this one large enough to shake the ground under our feet. I press the speaker to my ear and hear, “…fighting for our lives.”

  “They’re under attack,” I tell the others. “We’ve got to help them.”

  “That’s not our mission, Alex,” Davis says. “We’re not here to get into battles we can avoid.”

  Out the window, a single crow separates from the flock and flies away from the school, as if sensing danger. I turn to face my teammates. “We can’t lose these people. Any of them. Otherwise Jane wins. We have to come back with as many physically able bodies as possible.”

  “Alex is right,” Paul says, guns ready in both his hands. “We can’t leave these people behind. Not again. They survived the first phase of the apocalypse. We need to make sure they survive the second.”

  “To Jane, they’re nothing but collateral damage,” I say. I consider Wyatt’s story about the creation of the virus and how it escaped. Sheer arrogance on my sister’s part. “That’s how we got into this whole mess in the first place.”

  The car is silent for a beat but then Jude hits the back of Davis’ seat and says, “Then let’s do this.”

  Davis revs the engine and rolls forward, leaving the road and crossing over the downed gates. The drive toward the school curves and that’s when we see them.

  Bodies.

  Many are dead—most dressed in my sister’s signature uniform, Fighter black. They lie lifeless and bleeding out on the grassy area between the driveway and school. Others are alive but it’s clear the infection is taking over. Davis steers the truck past them and follows the drive to the front of the school.

  “The gymnasium is in the back,” Cole says.

  We gather our weapons and I make a final attempt to contact Erwin back at base. The com units can only transmit so far but I give it a shot. If we make it through the day, we’ll need reinforcements to get everyone back to Arnold safely.

  Another explosion rocks the ground, rattling the truck windows. Everyone flinches. Jude curses and adds, “They need to watch out or they’ll blow a hole in the side of the building, screwing everyone.”

  “Incoming,” Cole says pointing out the back window. The freshly infected followed us in, their intensity and rage growing with each fumbling step. We spring into position; Paul and Jude push through the opening on top of the truck, guns ready. I wiggle out the window until I’m sitting on the edge. We’re too far away to get a good shot.

  “Keep moving—fast,” I tell Davis, squashing the growing feeling that this was a terrible idea. “Let’s go help the others.”

  *

  My ears ring from gunshots and the blast of exploding grenades. I hear nothing as the Eater charges, teeth bared and nails ragged and sharp. I’m thankful for the temporary deafness, because I hate the way they sound, and when she’s inches away I pop her square in the forehead with the butt of my hatchet before running to the building and pressing my back against the wall.

  “This was a freaking awful idea,” I mumble to myself, checking my bullets. Half a clip, which isn’t enough. Two more infected catch my scent and I reach for my hatchet again to save the bullets for later.

  “God, you smell,” I tell one, gagging and swinging the ax at the same time. His head droops to the side, although not unattached. I kick him toward the other one, who’s looking at me like lunch, and make him trip. He falls forward and I split his skull in two, like a melon.

  “There’s too many,” Jude says as he runs past. He sounds like he’s underwater.

  “Less though, right?” I shout back optimistically.

  He makes a face but doesn’t answer, instead stabbing a howling elderly woman in the eye who ran in our direction in a way she probably hadn’t been able to in years. Jude blinks at her body and whispers something under his breath.

  “What?” I shout.

  “Just saying a prayer for my grandmother. I hope she’s dead, you know?”

  A streak runs past us, kicking an Eater in the face and using him and an air conditioning unit as momentum to scale the side of the building parkour-style. At the top, Paul’s face peeks over the side, with his rifle directed on the fight behind us. He fires and I spin to see the target and come face-to-face with my own problem.

  “Shit,” I breathe, not feeling sorry about cursing but mentally apologizing to my mother anyway.

  My words are drowned out by the all-too-familiar howling scream filtering through my recovering hearing. I stumble backwards, falling over the bodies of the two Eaters I just killed, before this one gets his hands on my arm. Jude is already battling his own set of monsters, unable to help.

  “You can’t hurt me,” I tell him with false bravado, twisting to get away. Sure, he can’t infect me—but he sure as hell can kill me. His black eyes don’t acknowledge me anyway, but his mouth does and his teeth chomp dangerously close to my face. I fall backwards over the bodies and land hard, cracking my head on the pavement, and my teeth snap together.

  The fall does get me out of the Eater’s grip and looking to my left and right, there’s no out. Just the dead, glassy-eyed bodies of the ones I just killed. He screams again, bony arms and fingers gripping my arms. I level the hatchet between our heads, the cold metal pressing down on my face—the sharp side facing out.

  “Jude!” I scream.

  Two more bony, desperate hands grab my ankles, tugging at my boots.

  I scream and scream and scream.

  The Eater in my face hisses through clenched teeth, drool dripping from his jaw onto my chin. I just keep screaming, even when his head snaps back and a dark hole appears in his forehead. The one at my feet grows still, heavy against my boots.

  I struggle to get up and away from the dead body that lays heavy over my torso, and watch as two more fall before Jude makes contact. We look at one another and then glance upward. Paul gives us a nod.

  I’ve never been so glad to have a super soldier on my side before.

  I spy a break in the fighting, through the dust, and spot an alcove connecting the buildings. I need a minute to catch my breath and I know Jude does as well. I gesture to the space and make a run for it.

  “It’s not over yet,” Jude says when we’re inside. It’s a small back entrance of some kind, and I lean against the wall, dizzy, and touch the back of my head. It’s pounding from hitting the pavement. He notices my condition and says, “Let me see.”

  Blood appears on my hand and I promise, “It looks and feels worse than it is.” But I’m not sure. My vision is blurry and I really feel like I need a nap.

 
“You can’t go back out there, Alex. I think you need to step back,” he says, worry lines next to his eyes. “I’ll find Cole and send him your way.

  I nod, or at least I try to, but everything feels thick and heavy. “I’ll wait here.”

  He helps me to the corner so my back is against the wall, and I sit helplessly when he positions a gun in my hands. “Don’t you dare fall asleep,” he warns.

  The minutes tick by in a haze of fog. Everything sounds far away, like I’m just outside of the fighting. Occasionally a voice pops through, or a snarl, and I jerk awake, forcing my eyes open. My gun is shaky in my hands. I’m not sure what’s real or not real—shadows creep into the edges of my eyes.

  I point the gun.

  “I see you,” I whisper. “I’ll shoot.”

  The response is silence.

  Apocalypse silence.

  I get on my hands and knees and walk toward the opening—toward the light. A figure comes into view. A halo of gold.

  “You came!” I say, breaking down into irrational sobs. I feel so weird. He moves closer and I squint. “I’m hurt.”

  He’s almost to me and I breathe relief, reaching for his hand. Our fingers touch, cold meeting hot. A scream pierces the fog and the world explodes, brick and dirt raining down from the sky. A shadow emerges from the edges and I can’t run to or away from it if I wanted to. The world rumbles beneath my feet and I fall back into an endless cloud of darkness.

  Chapter 12

  My arms weigh a thousand pounds. My head at least twice that. The ground beneath me is hard—cold—at least under my legs. Under my throbbing head it’s softer. Warmer.

  I blink and feel a hand on my forehead. The touch is gentle.

  “Cole?” I mumble, trying to remember where I am or who I’m with.

  “Hey, just rest,” the voice says above me. I blink again and lift my hand to my face to rub my eyes. A single window high on the wall allows in daylight.

 

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