by Angel Lawson
Jude laughs. “Help is an exaggeration, but he showed me how to scout. Back then they had Chloe’s orders pushing them along. Now? They’re alone. They’ll be scattered all over. They won’t come to a place like this—the Mutts either. They don’t have a sense of nostalgia. Their number one motive, all the time, is survival.”
There’s no reason for Walker or Jackson to argue. They know it’s true, they know Wyatt and what he’s capable of doing. She pushes a stray piece of red hair out of her eyes and asks, “Fine, what do you suggest?”
“I imagine right now they’ve all got a heightened adrenaline and are on the run. I don’t think most will stick together—particularly the Hybrids. If they don’t have a leader then they’ll maybe keep in small groups for safety from the Eaters. They’ll scavenge for food, shelter. They’ll kill any survivors they meet along the way—that is programmed in their brain. Humans must be obliterated.”
Zoe’s eyes are wide—she’s absorbing every word. Wyatt has that effect on people—girls in particular. He’s smart, handsome, and totally kick-ass. I have no doubt he’ll have a new fangirl before he finishes speaking.
“Jude and Mary Ellen will scout in one direction. Alex and I in the other,” he says, but Walker is already shaking her head. He doesn’t care. “You guys carry the supplies and act as liaison between us and the Safe Cities. We have to be quiet and stealth. They hear everything. Small pairings—no vehicles. We’ll meet back up every few days and plan our next move.”
Walker thinks it over and we pretend like it’s her call. Wyatt’s just proven one thing. We’ve got the upper hand, but to keep the peace with Hamilton we have to play the game. “Fine,” she says. “But one change. Zoe goes with you and Alex.”
The girl looks like she won the apocalypse lottery and she smiles wide for the first time all day. I bite my lip, concerned about protecting her and ourselves but keep quiet as Wyatt makes the agreement and the next step in our plan.
Seriously though, this apocalypse just keeps getting better and better.
Chapter Six
Before we split up the next morning I ask Walker for a minute alone. We huddle in the chilly morning air next to the front barricade. “What’s the deal with Zoe?”
Walker’s face reveals nothing—just a blank expression. “What do you mean?”
I cross my arms. It’s too early and there’s not enough coffee left in this town to deal with passive-aggressiveness. I start flipping fingers into the air with each of my upcoming points. “Who is she? Why is she here? Where did she come from? Can she shoot and kill if she needs to?” I take a breath to keep going but Walker snatches my hand out of the air, nearly crushing my fingers. I flex back and we stare at one another.
“Don’t be obnoxious,” she spats.
“Don’t be obtuse. You know the more information we have, the more likely we all come out of this alive.” I narrow my eyes. “Or is that not the goal?”
Her jaw sets. “Our goal is to rid the Death Fields of Hybrids and Mutts. We’re here to create a future for our country. Nothing more.” I’m thinking of how I want to punch her in stomach, just finally knock her off her high horse, and she must see the intent in my eyes. In a low voice she replies, “Zoe is Hamilton’s daughter.”
“You’re f-ing with me.” I take a sideways glance at the girl in question. Her skin and hair are lighter but her lean frame and confidence reek of her dad.
“No. She was in New Hope when we arrived. She’s never been out of the city until now.”
“She’s been in there this whole time? Since the virus spread?”
“Yes.”
“Then why the hell did he send her out here on a mission like this? It’s suicide!” Walker rewards me with a smirk that she barely contains from full-out laughter. “What?”
“I’m thinking back to how you demanded Jane send you to the Vaccine Center and pitched a fit to your father to make it happen.”
“I did not pitch a fit.”
“Sure you didn’t.” The smirk is still there.
“Fine, maybe I persuaded my family into letting me go, but back then we were just fighting Eaters, something I had experience with. We weren’t tracking down genetically modified super soldiers.”
Walker sighs. “For the record, I tried to talk him out of it, but I only have so much sway. He thinks it will be good for her to get some boots on the ground.”
“The fact he didn’t listen to you says a lot.”
“Hamilton has a way of being persuasive. His arguments were solid.”
“Did he threaten to execute you too? Like Erwin? Like Green?”
Walker never had an allegiance to Erwin but Green was a partner. We all went through a lot together during that first year. She can’t pretend his death doesn’t hurt. Even so she says, “Green wasn’t the same person I knew. He’d made a deadly choice.” Meaning his decision to turn Mutt. “You’ll have to keep her safe. I’m not going to lie and say that sending her with you isn’t an insurance policy. You and Wyatt have had plans before to sneak off and leave this shit-show. That can’t happen. Not yet—not now.”
“Why does everyone think we’re about to bolt?”
“Who else thinks this?”
“Jane mentioned it.” The irony is I don’t even know what I want to do. Run? Stay? Curl up in a fetal position and sleep for three years? “We’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Keep it PG around her, okay? You and Wyatt still vibrate off one another like competing earthquakes.”
I make a face because, no. “Don’t worry about us. Worry about getting yourself to the meeting point in one piece. It’s not going to be easy. The Hybrids may not be here, but they’re out there somewhere and they’re primed to kill.”
“Have you always been this dramatic?” she asks, without a trace of humor. But I forget she wasn’t with us the last six months, during the imprisonment and torture. Walker doesn’t truly know us anymore or who our real enemies are.
“Good luck,” I say to her because I don’t feel like getting into it. “You’ve got your map?”
“Yeah, marked with the meeting spot.”
I walk toward Wyatt and Zoe, both itching to get started. Again, it feels like a goodbye, but this time I may be ready for it.
“What was that all about?” Wyatt asks. He’s squatting on the ground, tying his boot lace into a double knot. He reaches for mine when he’s finished and does the same.
“Just getting a little more information.”
“Anything useful?”
Zoe watches our exchange but her feet tap with restlessness. “Nothing much. Come on, let’s get out of here. Night will come soon enough.”
*
I jerk awake, the sound of the forest pulling me from sleep. I was thick in a dream—my black pistol clenched in my hand. The crack and deafening ring of a gunshot splintering Chloe’s skull. Her face morphs at the last minute to Cole and my heart hammers in fear until I feel smell the dirt and decaying leaves of the woods. I blink away the darkness and my eyes adjust enough to see Wyatt pressed against the nearest tree. We camped out after getting lost the day before and finding ourselves too far away from shelter before night fell. Zoe sleeps next to me, curled up in a sleeping bag, and I look to Wyatt to see if I should wake her. His eyes, reflecting the moonlight from above, connect with mine and he shakes his head at the same time his shoulders relax.
I stand and step over the girl, nearly losing my footing. Wyatt reaches out and grips my arms, lifting me over Zoe, right into his chest. In a flash he’s got me pressed against the tree and my heart rate—which was already sky high from the dream—jumps a notch. He lowers his mouth to my ear and I brace myself—not realizing how much I missed his touch over the last week.
“I found something in the apartment,” he says, which is not what I expected. I push my hand under the bottom of his jacket, seeking warmth and closeness. I wait for him to continue. “It was a message. From Paul.”
“What did he say? Is he okay?
”
“He’s with Cole. They’re looking into Hamilton and what this guy is all about. He said he’d find us when they know more.”
“It’s a big country, Wyatt. How are they going to find us out here?”
He moves his head so he’s looking at me and his nose brushes mine. His next words are against my mouth. “Do you think Cole will let you walk away like that? His radar on you may be stronger than mine.”
His words sting—as much from truth as anything else. I grip his side and speak louder than I should. “You know there’s nothing there, right? This isn’t some teenage love triangle.”
“I know how you feel about me. I think I even understand your relationship with Cole. Well, as much as I can. But whatever Chloe triggered in his head made him fixated on you. We can only use that damage for our own gain.”
I know he’s right, even though I feel an overwhelming sadness for Cole. The dream didn’t help. I shake off the mood and feel the scruff on Wyatt’s face. Two days in the Death Fields and the beard is growing back. I brush my fingers against his chin and pull his mouth to mine.
His kiss is hard and it takes me back to that night in our apartment, before the EVI-3. Before I killed Chloe. I like the way his hands push my hips against the tree but I pause, lifting my mouth from his. A tickle whispers in my ear—not him—but something deep in the forest.
“What?” he whispers.
“There’s something out there.”
“No. I checked.”
The hairs on my arms and neck rise in warning. This knowledge rides the high of adrenaline and the tug of accelerated instinct. I pull the gun from my boot and even though he doesn’t hear it—doesn’t sense it—Wyatt trusts me enough to follow. I take a step toward Zoe and nudge her with my boot. “Get up,” I whisper. “They’re coming.”
Chapter Seven
The girl isn’t quiet and she takes too long to get on her feet. Wyatt has her pack in his hand as she struggles with the laces on her shoes.
“What the hell?” he barks in a harsh whisper. “You never. Ever. Take off your shoes.”
This girl is going to get us killed.
It’s so bad, I think, grabbing her water bottle and pushing her after Wyatt, (who has already slipped further into the forest), that I wonder for the second time if that’s the plan.
Hamilton wants us dead.
True or not, they don’t know that the EVI-3 has lingering effects--which may include paranoia. I hear whoever is tracking us. I hear their every step, every leaf crunching beneath their boots, their breath and the smell of their sweat.
“They’re about a mile back but once they catch on to us it won’t take them long.”
Wyatt stops and we’re in a small cleared area. I can see his face better here. He’s thinking, plotting, and finally says, “We’ll wait here then. No use running if we’re going to get caught.”
“Wait for them?” Zoe asks. She’s breathing heavily. I hand her the water bottle.
Wyatt points to the nearest tree. It has a lower branch with a deep nook. “You’ll stay up there.”
She looks up at the tree. “And what are you doing? Getting killed while I watch?”
“Doing our job,” I whisper. “We’re bounty hunters. We don’t run. We hunt. You’re about to see what that means.”
The whites of Zoe’s eyes shine against the moonlight but Wyatt has already started to move. He stashes our bags in shrubbery and tucks another knife into his boot. He hands me a small gun that I push into the back of my pants. Despite her arguments, we hoist Zoe into the tree.
“Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”
“What if they kill you? Do I at least get to arm myself?”
Wyatt blinks up at the girl. “You aren’t armed?”
“I left my gun in my backpack.”
“Jesus…” Wyatt curses and looks at me for help.
“Give her that extra knife. I’m not getting shot.” I pause. I haven’t had a chance to tell him yet who Zoe is and her relationship to Hamilton. “Well, at least not by her.”
He gives her the hunting knife and that seems to appease her. “Don’t drop it,” he warns. “Also, if you have to use it, go for the throat.”
The girl’s nose wrinkles in disgust but she seems content with the knife in her hand. I sigh and walk away from the tree. When we’re out of sight I stop and close my eyes. “They’re only about a half mile out. They should have found our campground. I think there are four of them. At least one female.”
“You can tell all of that?”
I nod, afraid of seeing his expression. Even though he didn’t want me to take the EVI-3, he hasn’t judged me since. “It’s like a feeling?” I try to explain. “Vibrations and smell.” I could break down how there are differences in the way the soldiers’ feet hit the ground or their scents, but I can tell he’s trying to be supportive and I don’t want to push my luck. “It’s weak though—nothing like what we experienced the night of the battle. And it’s not all the time. I don’t feel the heightened connection all the time, just occasionally, like maybe it’s connected to fear or—”
“Adrenaline,” he adds.
“Yes, I think so.”
There’s no time to analyze my body chemistry right now because the Hybrids are getting closer. Wyatt squeezes my hand before we split off, and I find the darkest spot possible and press my back against a tree.
The Hybrids move like animals, quick and agile. They’re focused like a hunter seeking prey. I listen and their footsteps go from being in a tight formation to slipping away from one another. They sense us ahead and plan on surrounding us in a tight circle. It’s a smart idea, but there’s a single flaw in their plan.
They don’t expect me.
I can’t see Wyatt in the dark but I hear his heartbeat. It’s steady—the man doesn’t get flustered. This moment, the blink before the battle, is when he’s at his best. He’s patient. Calm and calculated.
Wyatt’s heartbeat is dwarfed and comingled with the Hybrids’ as they approach. The super soldiers are the opposite—the jacked-up adrenaline makes their heart rates soar. The beat echoes in my ear like a drum and I do my best to focus on the other senses. The whisper of their feet over leaves. The swish of fabric. The sharp ting of their weapons. I count down in my mind, waiting…
Waiting.
Waiting.
A foot falls inches from mine and I squeeze the smooth, familiar handle of my hatchet with both hands. The Hybrid senses me a second late and there’s a brief second of realization.
“Yeah,” I say, lifting the hatchet over my head. “I see you.”
I step out of my hiding place and he’s caught a step off. That’s all I need to get first attack. Across the clearing, I hear Wyatt spring into action as I jab the butt of my hatchet into the Hybrid’s jaw. He fumbles and I flip the weapon, swinging the blade at his midsection.
The sharp metal catches fabric but he jumps back quick enough to avoid injury. My heel jabs into his foot and this time my blade catches his throat. His hands flail at his neck, blood seeping through his fingers. He falls to his knees and I tip him over with my foot before ripping the unused gun out of his hands.
I step over the body and find Wyatt fighting off two male Hybrids. I scan for the fourth but don’t find her. One Hybrid gets his hands around Wyatt’s neck, and the other unsheathes a massive blade. I aim the gun from my spot, something I never would have done before the injection and fire. The bullet zings through the air and both Hybrids turn in my direction while Wyatt slinks on his knees to the ground. The bullet buries into the head of one while Wyatt uses his leverage to flip the other over, stunning him before stabbing him in the heart. We make eye contact but a sharp cry echoes through the trees.
“Dammit,” Wyatt mutters.
We zig-zag through the trees, jumping over brush and fallen branches. Daybreak isn’t far away and the sky above had brightened enough that it’s easy to spot Zoe up in the tree. She’s on the edge of the branch
and not alone. The female Hybrid has scaled the tree and now sits in the crook.
“Don’t move,” I shout. The Hybrid doesn’t listen and there’s nowhere for Zoe to go but down. I shoot Wyatt a look. “I’m not letting Hamilton’s daughter get killed on the first night out here, got it?”
“Who’s what?” Wyatt asks, but he shakes his head. The understanding is clear. “I’ll give you a boost.”
He runs to the base of the tree and Wyatt gets down on a knee. I sprint as fast as I can, planting a foot in his clasped palms. He pushes up with all this strength, sending me flying. I collide with the Hybrid, toppling her out of the tree and falling hard and fast. I land hard on my back, her boot against my neck.
I take a punch in the cheek right as Wyatt hits her with a death blow to the head, the crack of the gun handle echoing off her skull.
I’m breathing heavily despite the enhancements, and Wyatt rubs the blood off his hands in the dirt.
“Are you okay?” I ask Zoe, who’s inching her way back to the trunk. She starts to shimmy down on her own and Wyatt rushes over to catch her before she breaks her neck.
When he steps away she has a massive grin on her face.
“What?” I ask, acutely aware of the dead bodies on the forest floor.
Zoe clasps her hands in front of her chest. “That. Was. Amazing.” Wyatt and I look at one another, but she keeps going, talking a mile a minute. “I’d heard you guys were tough. Like I knew it. The stories and the rumors. Other people thought it wasn’t true. But I knew it was. That’s why I had to come. I needed to see it for myself.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, unable to follow a single word.
A tiny frown appears between her eyes. “Don’t you know? You guys are legends. Alexandra Ramsey and Wyatt Faraday.” She turns to me. “You—you’re the girl that kicks Eater ass. And him,” she points at Wyatt. “He’s a Hybrid-killing legend—like a mixture between Spiderman and a ninja. Everyone knows about you back home. Everyone my father allows into New Hope has heard of the fights and the battles. Like the time you fought off a hundred Eaters, just the two of you.” She takes a deep breath, building steam. “You fought off the devil down south—the one that created the virus, and then your boyfriend turned into a Hybrid. Which had to suck, because, you know, because ouch.”
