The Girl who Saved the World: The Death Fields: Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Book 6

by Angel Lawson

  The Girl Who Saved the World

  By Angel Lawson

  Thank you for following me on the journey of The Girl Who Did All The Things. Make sure you’re following my newsletter @angellawson mailing list

  Laughter echoes off the hallways and I hear the clickety-clack of fingers over a keypad. My phone sits snugly in my hand like an old friend. There’s no service, but I can look at my pictures through the screen that got cracked at some point along the way. I mean, I didn’t even remember having a cell phone until someone handed me a cord and said, “Want to use this?”

  Cell phones.

  Computers.

  Electricity.

  Laughter.

  I look around the room and watch everyone in motion, working as though nothing had happened—or was happening—outside this place. There are still Eaters out there. I know that. There are Hybrids on the run, slipping across the country like scurrying ants. There are Mutts in hiding—trying to figure out their next move. Both of their leaders are gone and no one told them what to do once the battle was over, or what would happen to them with a new person in charge.

  “Name?” the man at the desk next to my chair asks. I glance at Wyatt one desk over and his eyes pierce mine. He gives the slightest of nods.

  “Alexandra Ramsey.”

  “Age?”

  “Twenty.”

  “Place of origin?”

  I hesitate thinking back over the last year-and-a-half. Catlettsburg, Asbury, then Catlettsburg before that. I had a stretch of traveling from Georgia, but also spent time in Tennessee. I think past the Vaccine Center and PharmaCorp and Fort Shaw, all the way back to the beginning, when I met Cole and Wyatt. When I was still with my mother. I blink at the man whose hands wait over the keyboard for my answer.

  “Raleigh, North Carolina.”

  He types this information into a computer. A computer that hums and has white light. I watch as he scribbles something on a small, blue card with a plastic pen.

  “Does that thing have the internet?” I ask, so confused.

  “No. We just use it to save information. Fill out forms. What we don’t have is unlimited paper.”

  I nod like any of this makes sense. Like it’s relevant to the world outside. “Right.”

  “Take this to receive your rations; this includes clothing and food. Follow the arrow on the floor.”

  I’m aware of the tremble in my hand when I take the card. Once I step away, Jude’s number is called and he replaces me. The same questions start again.

  “Name?”

  “Jude Hansen.”

  I look up, a little lost, but perk up when I spot Wyatt waiting for me by the exit. There’s a blue-hued arrow painted under his feet.

  “You okay?” he asks. I spot a similar card in his hand. “You look a little pale.”

  “Yeah, I think it may be the effects wearing off.” I whisper. The EVI-3, which transformed me into a temporary Mutt for the battle between the Hybrids and Mutts, has finally worked its way through my system and I’m feeling it: Extreme fatigue and a slight headache over my temple. “I think I just need some water and a nap.”

  Wyatt studies me. I know he’s worried about side effects from the drug. He didn’t want me to take it, but when do I listen? In the end, we both know it was the right decision. There’s little doubt I’d be dead if I hadn’t had a temporary booster shot of the EVI-3, giving me a dose of super-strength to survive that last battle.

  Overall, I feel fine. The hyper focus is gone, the extreme strength and heightened senses—all faded. When I challenge his look he sighs and starts down the hallway. The sooner we check in, the faster I can find a place to sleep off the hangover.

  At the end of the hall there is a window that overlooks the city below. We’re in Cincinnati, a place that is much bigger and better-functioning than I ever thought would exist again. The building is a government assistance facility, no longer needed for driver’s licenses or social security. It’s perfect for processing in new citizens like us. From what Walker told us coming in the night before, the entire city is 100% Eater-free. They have the power grid up, running water, and a functioning infrastructure. It’s basically the government-approved version of Avi’s Catlettsburg, although much larger and well-equipped. From what she told us, the government had multiple cities prepped for a cataclysmic disaster. Cincinnati is one of them. Well, I say Cincinnati. They no longer call it that. It’s been officially renamed New Hope. I roll my eyes at the name. These people are creating a new world and that was the best they could come up with?

  According to Walker, other safe cities, dotted around the country, are in various states of flux. Some are still fighting the Eaters to hold their ground or do not have adequate survivors to maintain the infrastructure as much as they hoped. Although, Walker boasts, few are doing as well as this one.

  Wyatt listened to all this with intense interest, the wheels in his head spinning. He has the same look now when he looks out the window at the clean, functional city. “Surreal, isn’t it?”

  I touch the glass. “It doesn’t seem real.”

  “We probably shouldn’t get used to it. If we’re really being assigned as bounty hunters, I don’t think we’ll get to stay long.”

  I watch him watch the city. “Is it weird that I’m okay with that? That I want to go back out?”

  “It isn’t weird to me. But I’m not sure I’m the best example of post-crisis mentality.”

  I face him. Other than a sanitizing wash-off and temporary clothing in quarantine, we’re fresh off the battlefield. Less than twenty-four hours before, I’d killed Chloe with a shot to the head. We’d watched Erwin and Green be executed by Colonel Hamilton, the unknown man in charge of this city. I grip Wyatt’s hips and push up on my toes, giving him a peck on the lips.

  “You may not be the best example but you’re the best for me,” I tell him.

  “You lay it on thick, you know that, right?” He rolls his eyes at my attempt at sweetness. Wyatt is well aware of my inability to be the mushy girlfriend, and I’m well aware that he likes me that way.

  Jude and Mary Ellen approach from the processing room. Jane? I haven’t seen her since we arrived but I have little doubt she’s already been put to work.

  They clutch cards in their fingers. I take a deep breath and say, “Let’s get this over with,” before taking what I’m quite sure is just another step in the game.

  Chapter Two

  The bizarre feeling of normalcy only grows when we’re escorted to a nearby auditorium for orientation. The group we’re in isn’t big—maybe twenty people, of varying ages, all looking as tired and weary as I feel. I can’t imagine what they’ve been through, (the post-crisis world is difficult for anyone), but I doubt they just completed a battle with super-soldiers the day before.

  “It’s weird being in a place like this, with electricity and everything,” Mary Ellen says. Her feet bounce on the ground, shaking her knees. I wonder if it’s nerves or side effects.

  “Sometimes it feels like whiplash,” Jude says. “There’s no constant. One minute we’re living like cavemen, the next it’s like nothing has changed.”

  I agree that it’s definitely hard to process, which may be why I’m itching to get out of here. Unfortunately, I need to learn more about this place and Hamilton, because if I’ve gleaned anything over the last year it is that power corrupts—now more than ever.

  A slight woman with pale brown hair and a wide nose walks to the podium. Her lips are painted bright red and I can’t hel
p but notice her dress. It’s not the utilitarian kind that Mary Ellen wore as a byproduct of growing up with the Mennonites. No, it’s made of a silky, black material with dotted flowers. It’s the kind of outfit that you can’t fight in. A relic from a time when fashion was an acceptable consideration. It, more than anything else I’ve seen today, emits a level of luxury I am fully unaccustomed to.

  A wide screen rolls from the ceiling behind her as she steps to the microphone.

  “Good afternoon. My name is Andrea Miller and I’m the hospitality liaison for the city of New Hope. Colonel Hamilton extends his warmest welcome and hopes you find a path to the future in our designated Safe City.”

  A picture appears on the screen with the city’s logo. It includes an American flag and a seal that says “Safe City.” Andrea looks appraisingly at the image behind her and then turns back to face the crowd.

  “I’m aware that many of you have struggled long and hard to get to this day. You have lost family and friends. You’ve lost your homes and jobs and all sense of security. New Hope cannot replace the things close to your heart, but we can offer you a home and future in absolute safety. Where running water and electricity are the norm and not something to fight and scavenge for. Believe it or not, the government wasn’t totally unprepared for the E-TR virus. The likelihood of biological warfare was well known and documented by agencies like Homeland Security and the CDC. With the advent of drone warfare, anything was possible, and what was once a vague concept became a fast-moving reality. Six cities were finalized before the E-TR virus wiped out the southern states. Ten more were planned that never came to fruition. Of these six, three, including New Hope, are fully functional. The other three are struggling and we’re in the process of assisting them as they get on their feet.”

  The screen behind her flips through a series of images that look pre-crisis, apartments and single-family homes, school children walking out of a classroom. The nostalgia is thick. I spot a small movement near the door. Hamilton is observing the presentation. I nudge Wyatt and gesture to the imposing man.

  Andrea narrates the slides but I keep an eye on the man that brought us here. He looks to be in his mid-forties, with short, black hair. There’s gray at the temples, but he looks healthy. Honestly? Compared to those of us that came in from the battlefield, Hamilton looks robust. His cheeks carry the roundness that comes from steady meals. His brown skin is clear and he lacks the dark circles that I can’t seem to get rid of. It’s weird, because I know this man is dangerous. I watched him kill Erwin in cold blood, but he has an appealing, handsome face. There’s one thing that gives me pause. His dark eyes have a hint of something—mania? Excitement? I don’t know how to place it but it makes me uncomfortable.

  The slide show stops and Andrea looms on the stage, perfectly pleasant expression still intact.

  “Now that you’re in New Hope, we hope you take time to rest and recover. We’ll help you find a job and housing. You won’t have to sleep with weapons anymore or worry about your neighbors. This is truly a safe place to call home.”

  “I have a question,” a voice asks from a couple of rows over. I can’t see his face but his hair is gray.

  “Please,” Andrea says. “Go ahead.”

  “What kind of perimeter do you maintain? I saw the fence line but does it go all the way around the city? Have you had any breaches?”

  Amanda nods, her face showing the right amount of concern. With the remote in her hand she flips forward a few pictures to a diagram of a tall fence. “The city of Cincinnati had the barricades in storage. As soon as Florida was cut off from the rest of the country, the walls went up. Now, things weren’t perfect at first. Infected citizens were already here before the walls were secured. We lost people but our police and local National Guard were ready for them. They’d been trained for something like this.”

  “How do you train for cannibals?” another man blurts out. “And the panic and fear of not trusting your neighbors? Are you saying the government had a tip-off that this was coming?”

  Andrea’s calm expression falters, her lip twitching just a bit. “No, of course not—”

  “I lost my baby girl out there. Not from the cannibals, but from the bastards that hoarded and stole all the food in my town.” He nods to the boy next to him, he looks young, maybe ten or eleven. “My son had to see things he never should. Every day I wondered if we’d be better off dead. If I found out the government had a hand in this—”

  “Sir, I know you’re upset and we have many resources for you and your son—”

  “Thank you, Andrea,” a controlled voice says from off stage. Hamilton moves from his spot at the door and walks calmly across the front of the platform into the seating area. Andrea is doing her best to stay calm but the man is right; finding out now that a safe place like this exists is a little too late for most of us.

  It also hammers home that people do not know about my sister and the real cause of the E-TR virus. I worry in a whole new way about her safety.

  Hamilton does something surprising. He walks among the attendees and stops before the man. He’s wearing more casual clothing today, a V-neck sweater and olive green pants. Nothing about him reveals the deadly executioner we met last night.

  “What’s your name?” he asks the man.

  “Richard.” He nods at his son. “This is Liam.”

  Hamilton offers his hand to the son first and they shake, then to the man. Wyatt hasn’t moved an inch, watching the scene unfold.

  “The fact you are coming to New Hope this long after the crisis began is proof of how strong you are. Did you know that when we first started the orientations for new citizens, these rooms were packed with survivors?” He looks around the large room, compelling us to look ourselves. “Many were from the original city and suburbs, but for months we had a large influx of people rolling in, happy to be out of the Death Fields.”

  “We didn’t know you existed,” Richard says.

  “I know, and it was not widely advertised outside this area. It took months to get the city up and running. We welcomed in all the healthy people that came to the gates but we weren’t in a position to travel outside ourselves until very recently. Most of the other Safe Cities still aren’t.”

  “That’s not fair,” Liam says. “Leaving people out there—with the monsters and bad people.”

  “No, son, it isn’t.” Hamilton sounds sympathetic, his voice warm and welcoming. I can’t shake the feeling of watching something scripted, like a reality TV show or something. “But we’re doing the best we can and as a unified community, determined to eradicate the infected and dangerous, we’ll return as a country, stronger than before.”

  He pats Liam on the head, who actually does look appeased, and walks up to the podium. He adjusts the microphone to his height and says, “Now that we’ve stabilized and have eliminated much of the threat from down south, we will continue the cleanup of the countryside until we are free to come and go from the safe barriers of the city. It will take time and perseverance, but we’ll get there with the help of capable soldiers and fighters.” He glances in our direction. “We have a plan and a mission—both for the greater good. Rest, heal, and figure out the way you want to be part of the future of New Hope.”

  Richard jumps to his feet and starts to clap. I’m startled by the act but he’s followed by others in the room, many with a look of relief on their faces. Jude nudges my arm and stands with the others. I move to my feet and as a group we cheer on our new leader with the most recent citizens of New Hope.

  I feel pressure on my elbow and Wyatt leans close. “Where have I heard a speech like that before?” he asks.

  I keep my eyes fixated on Hamilton, who’s waving back at the small group, many who have left their seats to go greet him personally.

  “In a room like this, back at PharmaCorp,” I reply. “From my sister.”

  Chapter Three

  Three days of rest. That’s what we’re given before our official assign
ment begins. The four of us are housed in a small apartment a block away from the processing offices. It’s a nice place with big windows. We all ignore the blood stain in the hallway just outside our door. I don’t know if it’s because we’re desensitized or it’s too hard to acknowledge. I’m pretty sure I fall into the former.

  I wake on the third day while it’s still dark outside with Wyatt’s warm arm clutching my waist. The door of our room opens slowly and I instinctively reach for my weapon—okay, not my weapon, that will be given back to me when we leave—but the knife from the kitchen that I keep on the bedside table. A face comes into view and I blink, recognizing the familiar gray eyes and dark hair of my sister. I frown and remove my hand from the weapon.

  She waves me over and I glance back, thinking I’m being quiet, but it’s no surprise Wyatt is already alert and aware. He probably heard her minutes before I did. Sighing, I squeeze his hand before walking out and closing the door behind me.

  When we’re both in the living room I pull my sister into a tight hug. She wraps her arms around me and it’s just the two of us for a moment. “Are you okay?” I ask. “I figured they tucked you into a lab or something.”

  “I’m fine and yeah, that was their plan, until I told them we had to go get Dad and the others in hiding.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yes, they’re all fine. They were in an abandoned evacuation shelter just outside the town lines.”

  “So he’s here?” I ask.

  “Yes. I’m not sure how safe we really are here, but I couldn’t leave him and the kids without protection. Catlettsburg is a ghost town. We passed it on the way back.”

  “I’m glad they’re all safe and yeah, I’m not exactly sure about this place either, but they’re targets for the Hybrids outside the walls.” We move to the small seating area. “So has Hamilton given you a job?”

  “He wants a pure vaccine. The people up here are not vaccinated and they have to be incredibly strict about quarantine and possible outbreaks of the E-TR virus. The parasites are still out there looking for a host.”