by Angel Lawson
“Hybrids?”
I sigh and lean across the table. “How about I fix us some dinner and Wyatt can get you up to speed. You willing to share those eggs?”
“For a little company and news?” he asks with a grin. “I think it’s worth the price.”
Chapter Ten
Wyatt gives Roger the rundown of the past two years, skipping the meatier parts about Jane and my relationship to her. He leaves out the betrayals and Cole and the choices we’ve all had to make—the emotional pain and sacrifices. He doesn’t talk about the two of us, the way we’ve fallen in love or the kids he tucked away on the coast of Georgia, praying they’d be safe with a family that was willing to take them in like their own. He does describe the armies, the genetic alterations, and how after finally eliminating Chloe, Hamilton’s rash actions pushed the Hybrids into the Death Fields. Wyatt avoids looking at Zoe but I know he’s aware of how intently she’s listening, absorbing everything, until she grows too tired to stay awake and falls asleep on a cushion on the floor. Rooster sleeps next to the door, his small brown eyebrows moving restlessly.
Our eggs and cheese are long gone and the plates cold by the time Wyatt finishes answering Roger’s questions. The old man listens quietly while stroking his beard. “I knew it was bad, I just didn’t know it was that bad. Genetic stuff? That actually explains a lot about what I’ve seen lately.”
“It’s pretty crazy out there,” I admit.
“And now you’re on clean-up duty.”
“I guess so.”
“Do you know anything about the other Safe Cities?” Wyatt asks him. “We spent most of our time in the dead zone between them. Until we got to New Hope, we had no idea they existed.”
“Me either,” Roger says but hesitates. “Well, a couple of travelers through here were going south, over the mountains, said they heard about a place down there.”
“Into Virginia?” I ask.
“Carolina. Somewhere in tobacco country.” I feel Wyatt’s eyes before I look up. His fist coils into a tight ball. Roger notices. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
“No,” I reply in an unsteady voice. “I grew up in Raleigh. It’s where Wyatt and I met.”
“Oh, well maybe that means you can head back home again.”
I feel Wyatt’s other hand on my knee and he squeezes it. Neither of us want to go back home, but we do want to find a way out of this. Another city may be the answer.
*
There’s a hint of sadness in Roger’s eyes when we say goodbye. Wyatt tells him to stay off the roads for now. The Hybrids, as he now knows, are merciless.
“You want us to send word if we find something?” I ask. ’Something’ means an actual safe city—not the manufactured one we just left.
“Nah.” He rubs Rooster’s backside with his foot. “We’ve got everything we need up here. My daddy knew I’d need it one day. He was a smart man, even though he had a need for drink.”
I leave the mountain hideout a little lighter than before, our bellies full of fresh food. If everything goes on schedule we should meet up with Walker and Jude later in the day. I had a feeling Wyatt needed to settle a few things with Walker.
We’d found our meeting spot, a small suburban neighborhood in the town of Bluefield, Kentucky, on the edge of the Appalachians. After talking to Roger, the trajectory makes me a little uncomfortable. I grew up on the opposite side of those mountains and figured I’d never get back home. It’s still a long way off, but knowing my mom and I may have been that close to a Safe City brings out feelings I’m not ready to deal with.
We’re the last to get to the house, coming in long after dark. Zoe begged to stop but Wyatt wanted a bed and apparently, a confrontation.
I’ve barely dropped my bag in the two-story, split-level ranch when he tells Zoe and Mary Ellen to go upstairs.
“Turn on the TV or something,” he says, without the slightest trace of humor.
Mary Ellen opens to mouth to argue but I give her a small headshake. It’s not worth it and Wyatt is on the warpath. There’s no need to be in the blast zone.
Walker hasn’t moved from her spot at the large dining room table, visible from the front door. She’s eating pudding from a plastic cup. The kitchen cabinets behind her are open and there’s a surprising amount of supplies inside. Wyatt sits at the table across from her and pulls off the foil lid, licking the foil off the top. Jackson, Jude, and I watch warily as the two square off.
“You seem agitated,” Walker finally says, discarding her cup.
“Do you care to explain what Hamilton’s daughter is doing with us? And why no one told me?”
“Hamilton’s what?” Jude asks, looking at me. I mouth back “Zoe” and he nods, processing it slowly. Jackson doesn’t seem remotely surprised so I assume he already knew.
“Honestly? I don’t.” Walker stands and pushes her chair back under the table. She grabs her gun off the couch and shoves it in her belt. We watch as she walks away from Wyatt and storms out the door. The rest of us wait—the room completely quiet—as Wyatt gathers his anger and follows her outside. The door closes with a slam, rattling the windows. It only takes a few seconds for the screaming to start.
Walker and Wyatt had worked together from the beginning. I didn’t know they were both Fighters tasked with making sure I safely arrived with the original vaccine data at PharmaCorp. They’d always had a professional relationship but something has set them on edge. I move past Jackson and Jude to listen.
“We don’t keep secrets,” Wyatt says. “You know that’s how someone gets killed and I’m pretty sure none of us want Zoe’s death on our shoulders.”
Walker laughs. “Are you accusing me of keeping secrets? I’m sorry, I thought that was your job, Mr. Enigma.”
There’s a string of expletives that makes me glance sideways at Jude, who has moved closer to listen. This argument isn’t new; Walker has never thought Wyatt has been transparent enough. Wyatt, frankly, doesn’t give a damn.
“I know you’re hiding something big this time,” she says. Her voice is lower—more serious. I watch Jude to see if he caught it. He did.
“Me? You’re paranoid,” Wyatt says.
“No. I’ve seen a better way,” she snaps back. “There’s hope out there Wyatt, and it’s within our reach. We just have to finish the job.”
“You think tracking down hundreds of Hybrids is going to be easy? It may take decades.”
“I’m willing to make that sacrifice.” I peek out the window and see Walker’s eyes narrowed at him. She says, “You never mention the Mutts.”
“They aren’t my first priority. You know that.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” Her voice is cold—accusatory. “I think they are your first priority. More than you, or anyone else in that house wants to admit.”
Wyatt has been pacing, letting off pent-up anger, but he stops inches from Walker. “You’re brainwashed. Hamilton did something to you. We were a team and you know Erwin and the others had no choice but to turn Mutt. None. That sacrifice—a real one—saved all of our asses from the Hybrids. The Mutts are not our enemies and I’m not going to pretend they are just because some paper pusher up in New Hope,” he rolls his eyes at the cheesy name, “has convinced you to do his dirty work.”
Jude and I hold a look because we’re very close to territory we can’t come back from. Wyatt isn’t wrong—he’s completely right--but these are dangerous accusations. We don’t have an army backing us here or anything else. Walker does. “Watch your mouth,” Walker says. “You’re close to treason.”
He blinks twice and then laughs. “You don’t get it. It can’t be treason. I’m not part of your country. What country? You’ve got one functioning city and rumors of others, but I didn’t go through the last two years to be beholden to a man I don’t know or trust.”
“So what does that mean?”
“It means I’m done with this shit. I’m not working for you or Hamilton or anyone else.”
/>
“If you walk away from this you’ll be a wanted man—same goes for anyone else that goes with you.”
“They’ll have to make that decision on their own.”
Huh. That statement ruffles my feathers and when he barges back in the house and goes straight for his bag, I wait for him to even notice I’m in the room.
“I’ll check on the girls,” Jude says. He adds quietly, “Don’t leave without me.”
Jackson exhales heavily and walks outside to check on Walker. I’m not sure if we’re enemies now. This whole thing is confusing. Why do we have to fight one another?
“So you’re leaving?” I finally ask, when it’s clear Wyatt is more focused on his pack than anything else.
“I don’t work like this—with others—you know that.”
“You worked with Erwin.”
“That was a special circumstance.” His jaw ticks. I must not look convinced because he walks over, touches my chin and says, “I had to find you.”
“Out there—you made it sound like you’d go on your own. Take off again.” It’s stupid to feel needy right after he made it clear he made choices for me. But Wyatt and I are new. This thing between us is in its infancy and I’ve definitely never navigated waters like this.
“I’m not leaving you, if that’s where this is headed.”
His hazel eyes bore into mine and I swallow. “It’s not—not really. I get that you’re committed to this. To me. But you stormed out there and made a decision for all of us. A potentially deadly one, and that’s not okay.”
Anger flashes across his face. Not at me but himself. I take a step closer and rest my hand on his hip. “You and I are a partnership now. More than ever before. We have to think of one another.”
“Like you did when you took the EVI-3?”
Ouch. “Fair enough.”
He sighs and wraps his hand around the back of my neck. “We’re both stubborn and strong-willed. We’ll mess up, but we’ll do it together. You didn’t want to stay, did you?”
“Oh, hell no. Walker is off her nut. Something is wrong with her and I don’t think we need to stick around here any longer than necessary.”
“I think she knows about you and the others.”
“The EVI-3?”
“Yeah. Maybe she can just sense it or who knows, they may have had some intel? Either way, her loyalties to Hamilton make working with her dangerous.”
“Are you ready to be a wanted man?” I ask.
He cracks a grin and it nearly breaks my heart. “With you by my side? Any day.”
Chapter Eleven
Dawn breaks cloudy and cold. The grass out front is coated in frost and I dig up a pair of gloves from the depths of my bag. Jude and Mary Ellen wait near the mailbox, both eager for distance.
Zoe peers through the front window. A deep frown is set on her
heart-shaped mouth. She wasn’t invited.
We know this could be settled right here, but no one wants that to happen. Not us, not Walker or Jackson. It’s the calm before a disastrous storm. The next time we see one another I fear there will be casualties. I honestly can’t think that far ahead.
Walker grabs my arm when I pass her on the porch. “Don’t do this Alex. I’ll have to hunt you down. I have my orders.”
“Do what you have to. We are. Isn’t that where we are in this world right now? It’s about survival. It always has been. Hunting down friends isn’t surviving. It’s just being imprisoned by another dictator. Another Jane. Another Chloe.”
I’m shocked to see her eyes water. “I can’t lose this chance. I want what New Hope has to offer. I need a commander like Hamilton.”
I nod and carefully extract my arm away from her tight grip. “I hope you get what you want. Good luck.”
Chapter Twelve
The distance from Bluefield, Kentucky to Mount Airy, North Carolina is three hundred and seven miles. Straight over the Appalachians. By foot, on my calculations it would take over twenty, fifteen-mile days to get there. That’s time we don’t have now that winter is coming and we’re officially on the run.
The first thing we do after leaving Walker is head for the local high school a mile away. Vehicles pack the parking lot from back when the building was used as an evacuation center. A few Eater’ roam the outsides and I have zero interest in opening up the can of decaying worms on the inside. Unfortunately, a place like this is our best shot at finding a working car, so while Jude and Wyatt search one by one, Mary Ellen and I keep watch.
When Wyatt is out of earshot I ask, “How are you feeling? Like, physically.”
Mary Ellen’s hair is tied in a tight knot at the back of her head. She looks years older since when we met last spring. The innocent Mennonite, in her long dress and childish braids, that I met hiding in that farm house is long gone. Her bright blue eyes carry a haunted look and I notice her pupils grow big every once in a while.
I have a feeling mine do the same.
“You mean the injection?” she asks. I nod. “I can feel it running in my veins. Not as much, but some.”
An Eater lumbers in our direction, getting caught between the tightly packed rows of cars. Like a rat in a maze trying to get to the treat at the end.
“I feel it too—especially when we’re in trouble, you know?”
“Yes, that’s it exactly. When Jude and I were off on our own we ran into a Hybrid—just one. We managed to get the jump on him and took care of him easily. I don’t think the results would have been the same without the injection.” She watches the Eater get past another car. He howls in warning, desperate and a little lame. “Do you think it will stay like this? Like a little bit there?”
I know what she’s asking and why. It’s nice to have a little something extra out here but it’s also not what any of us want. Not in the same way as Hamilton and his keeping the humans pure directive, it’s not like that, but we don’t know what this means. How could it change us and who we are?
“If Jane were here we could ask her.” A strange cloud crosses her face. “What?”
“Have you noticed anything else?” she asks.
“Like what?”
The tips of her ears turn red and she glances around. The men are a row over, looking under the hood of a black Camaro. “I haven’t had my monthly.”
I frown. “Your—oh, right. Huh.” I look her over and mentally dig for my biology. I was pre-med after all. “You’re skinny as hell and fat is hard to come by out here.”
“You don’t think it’s the injection?”
“I honestly don’t know, but I doubt it.” I grab her by the upper arm and wrap my whole hand around it. “Seriously. Skinny as hell.”
She laughs and the blush fades. The Eater moves closer and I sigh, prepared to go take care of him, when the rev of a large engine echoes off the parking lot. I turn and Wyatt gives us a thumbs-up.
“Come on. Leave him,” I say, pointing to the Eater. I don’t feel like getting into it today—not yet at least. “Let’s get out of here.”
*
A light, cold rain starts the next day, making me even more grateful for the car. The tank was full when we found it and we stashed a couple extra siphoned cans in the back. We climb higher into the mountains, the roads twisting and sharp. Twice we have to get out of the car to move rock debris from the roads that must have fallen over the last year or so. Mary Ellen’s face turns green and she closes her eyes during the worst of it. When it grows dark I beg Wyatt to stop.
“Just pull over into one of the scenic lookouts. It’s too dangerous to ride at night.”
“We’re only a hundred miles out.” His eyes flash to mine in the rearview mirror.
“I don’t care. It’s too dark. You can’t see.” I don’t add that the rain and slippery roads make it worse. “I’m pretty sure Mary is gonna barf all over the back seat, okay? The twisty roads are worse back here.”
The girl grunts in agreement, pressing her hands over her eyes. Wyatt slows but doesn’t st
op. I know he’s eager to get out to our destination, but killing ourselves in the process isn’t the way to do it.
“What are we going to do in Mount Airy?” Jude asks. “You think it’s the Safe City?”
“Could be,” Wyatt replies. His hands tap on the steering wheel. “It’s the first town we’ll come to after crossing the mountains. From there we have Greensboro and Winston-Salem. Raleigh and Durham further west.”
“Raleigh isn’t a Safe City,” I tell them. “I was there when it all went down. It was falling apart pretty quickly.”
“I feel the same about Asheville,” Wyatt says.
Jude twists to look at me in the back. “What if Hamilton beats us there?”
A flash of white catches my eye by the side of the road. “Wyatt! Look out!” I scream but whatever it is flies across the hood of the car, landing with a thud. Wyatt brings the car to a skidding stop, the wheels sliding across the slick pavement. I lurch forward, arms out to keep from smashing into the seat in front of me. Mary Ellen hits her head against the side window, crying out in pain. Whatever he hit is lying on the ground just out of view in front of the bumper.
“Shit was that a deer?” Jude asks.
“Deer?” I ask, trying to get a better look. The hair on the back of my neck pricks.
“I don’t know,” Wyatt says. He reaches for his gun and checks the chamber. Jude’s already unlocked his door and I grip the back of the seats. Mary Ellen sits up straight, her weapon in her hand.
“Do not get out of this car,” I say. “Just keep driving.”
“Alex, calm down, I’m just going to get out and check. You’re the one that wanted to stop.”
Jude hesitates and scans the road outside his window. Wyatt, stubborn as ever, gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He walks in a wide arch around the front, his body lit up from the waist down by the head lights. An awful feeling builds in my stomach and I scramble between the seats, over the gear shift and into the driver’s seat. I have a better view of Wyatt, who walks slowly toward the car, gun raised.
