by Angel Lawson
“What is it?” Mary Ellen asks from the back.
“I don’t know but I don’t think it’s a deer.”
I reach for the door handle just as gunfire splits the night. Wyatt gets off two shots, both wide and not directed at the body on the ground. Before I can move the driver’s side door is wrenched off its hinges. A hand reaches in and yanks me out of the seat. Through the misting rain, I sense the danger around us. Multiple heartbeats, dozens of footsteps. We’re surrounded and it only takes a blink to realize it’s a Hybrid ambush.
At least ten pour from the dark with crazy eyes and ragged clothes. With no leader they’ve succumbed to feral instincts—the one holding me growls in my ear. It’s a thin line between Hybrid and Eater. I don’t want to be the one that pushes him over.
Mary Ellen yells as she’s ripped from the back seat. Jude is dragged across the road. I take a deep, fueled breath and smash the back of my head into the Hybrid’s face while stomping on his foot. I spin and fire, bullets puncturing the center mass of his body. He falls and two more take his place.
I take the closest one, kicking her hand and knocking the gun to the ground. She lunges for it but I shoot her twice. One misses but the other lands in her temple before she reaches her weapon. I don’t get a chance to breathe before the next one charges and I’m tossed to the ground like a rag doll.
Already I sense a change in the Hybrids. Less methodical—a little more feral. It’s a bad situation and I roll out of the way just before a blade comes crashing down, sparking off the asphalt. I swipe her legs and jump to my feet, racing to use the door as a shield. From there I unleash the remaining bullets, praying one will hit the target.
“I’m out of ammo!” I shout, throwing my useless gun. The Hybrid bats it aside and eyes me with a greedy look. A low rumble vibrates against the mountains and it’s odd enough to distract me. The Hybrid clocks me across the jaw, snapping my head back and rattling my teeth. He drags me across the pavement, my head scraping the rocky surface. The noise only gets louder and angrier, approaching at fast speeds. I see the lights first—the chrome next. Motorcycles, two of them, burst onto the scene and the people driving them jump into the fight quicker than I can process.
The fighters are light on their scuffed boots, but large in size—men—most likely Mutts. I don’t know where they’ve come from but I’m glad they’re here. One carries two guns at once, shooting in tandem. The bullets zing through the air, one only missing my head because I duck. The Hybrid that punched me in the face isn’t so lucky. It nails him straight between the eyes.
I turn to look at our guardian angels and in the glow from the headlights spot a wicked, skull-faced grin plastered across a dark bandana. It’s Mutt for sure—dark eyes connect with mine for the briefest flash before he starts firing again, taking out two more Hybrids.
Wyatt drags another in front of the car, head locked between his elbow and forearm. The man struggles but Wyatt makes it quick, snapping his neck in one swift motion.
Gunshots pierce the night. Bodies fall like the rain and as fast as it started it’s over. One Mutt reaches down and helps Jude off the ground—the other—with a familiar set of shoulders beneath his own creepy bandana and a dark, ear-covering stocking cap checks each victim to make sure they’re really dead.
“It’s good to see you,” Wyatt says, one second before Paul tugs off his bandana.
As much as I’m happy it’s Paul I can’t keep my eyes off of Cole, who has made no effort to talk or to approach us. I never know which man he’ll be; friend or foe.
“How’d you find us?” Jude asks, wiping his hands on his pants. His hair is slick with rain and a bloody scrape shines on his cheek.
“We had a little help,” he says, eyes flicking to mine. I raise my eyebrows, because not many people out there want to help us right now. “I made her stay back—out of the fight.”
“I tied her to the bike,” Cole says, walking past us.
I look back into the dark, behind the glaring headlight, and see a figure mounted on the back. It takes him a second to free the girl but within moments it’s revealed who led them this way.
Zoe.
Chapter Thirteen
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask her, before casting a worried glance at Wyatt. Walker and Jackson and God-knew-who-else could’ve followed them. “Where’s Walker?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to stay with them, okay?”
I roll my eyes. Her reply betrays every bit of Zoe’s immaturity. “I’m not sure you had a choice?”
“Yeah, thanks for leaving me like that.”
“Zoe, I don’t think you get what we’re doing and who we are.”
“I know my father is watching you. I know he’s scared. I know there’s more out there than the perfect little Utopia he presents back in New Hope.” She flicks her eyes at Paul and Cole. “I know these guys aren’t bad even if they are a little weird.”
Wyatt looks like he could grind a walnut with the back of his jaw and the others just seem perplexed. “You don’t belong out here,” Jude finally says. “You’re going to get killed.”
“I don’t care.” Her eyes plead her case. “These last few years…everything my father told me, I believed. I thought we were the chosen people—that he was the chosen one that would lead us out of this crisis. I never thought differently until I started hearing stories about you guys. How you were fighting outside New Hope’s walls, with the very people that he considers an abomination and an enemy. My father thinks the world exists in black and white, but it can’t; if it did then that virus never would have happened in the first place.”
I don’t want to tell her that my sister created that virus to help people and fight back against radical idealization like Boko Haram. To do what the government couldn’t—or wouldn’t. It seems conflicting with what she’s saying now, that Jane did this to fight the radicals and in the end created more.
“How did you find these guys?” Wyatt asks.
“We picked her up,” Paul says. “We’d been tracking you and a couple of the propaganda teams for a few days. We lost your trail just after you got into Bluefield—thought maybe you went down with that explosion.”
“No, but we were there,” I say.
“Yeah, we picked up again near the house you stayed at with Walker. We were trying to figure out what to do about her when this one came running down the street.”
“We thought we could use her as leverage,” Cole says. “But it wasn’t necessary. She told us everything and where you guys were most likely headed.”
“And then you saved our asses from those Hybrids,” Jude adds. “Thanks, by the way.”
“You’re welcome,” Zoe replies, as though Jude is speaking to her. He’s not.
Wyatt looks to Paul and Cole. “We’re headed to the next Safe City. We think it may be near Mount Airy.”
Paul shakes his head. “Past that. We heard Winston-Salem.”
It’s a small town west of Raleigh. I’m pretty familiar with the area made famous for processing tobacco plants and making cigarettes. My mom grew up there.
“I’ve heard that name,” Zoe adds. “My father mentioned it a few times. I never knew why though.”
“At the very least, it gives us a destination,” I say. “Once we’re there we can see what they know about what’s going on out here. If they know about Hamilton or the Hybrid wars or anything else.”
“Or the bounty most likely issued on our heads by now,” Jude adds.
“It’s a risk, but it’s one I think we need to take.”
“Guys, look,” Mary Ellen says. Her eyes are glued over my shoulder. The rain has finally stopped falling and a hard breeze pushes the clouds over the mountain just as the sun rises. The fight took place at the top of a ridge, giving us a magnificent view of the valley. I walk toward the sight, stepping over bodies and sticky pools of blood, in awe of the gold and pink sky bleeding through the haze. A hand rests on my lower back before Wyat
t’s arm snakes around my waist.
Movement to my left catches my attention and I steal a look at Cole, tugging his cap off his head. Curly yellow hair spills across his forehead, instantly aflame from the breaking sun. He stares at me for a moment and then looks back at the sunrise, his face awash in light.
“Maybe it’s a sign we’ll be okay,” I say quietly. “That we’re headed toward something better.”
Wyatt doesn’t reply, he’s too cynical for that, but his arms tighten around me and we stand on that mountain top with our friends, ready for what comes next.
*
We stop overnight in Mount Airy and find the town plastered in posters. The town itself appears abandoned—the streets are quiet other than a few roaming Eaters we ignore. No one is in the mood for an altercation and when we find a small house cleared and already boarded up, we settle in before dark.
“I’ll take first shift,” Cole says.
Jude’s expression doesn’t hide his concern at leaving Cole on duty, so before anyone can argue I chime in, “Me too.”
Cole heads outside and I check my weapons. Wyatt grabs my arm. “I’ll be inside if you need me.”
“I’m a big girl, Sergeant Faraday. I can take care of myself.”
He gives me a fast kiss and says, “You’re not the one I’m worried about.”
I walk away but then groan when I spot Paul loitering in the doorway. “You too?”
“I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
“About Cole? Trust me, I can handle him. We’ve been through hell and back together.”
He runs his hands through his hair. “He’s doing better. Less angry than before. The time on the road gives him a chance to breathe and think about everything without having to deal with people.”
“How’s he handing Chloe’s death?”
“Not great.” He grimaces. “He’s not dangerous—to you or anyone else here, but just be careful. He’s on edge.”
I nod. “Thanks for the info. I’ll behave out there.”
“He will too.”
I button my coat and step outside, tugging up my collar from the chilly breeze. Cole stands on the front porch, rifle standing by his leg. He leans over the railing and looks down the picturesque street. It’s dark with nothing but the moon to light the night.
“Did you know I used to be afraid of the dark?” I ask. My voice sounds too loud, but there’s no way to modulate it for the utter silence of the town.
Cole glances over at me, eyes dark. He says nothing but shakes his head. I continue. “I don’t just mean when I was a kid. I was scared even when I was older—like up to when we left the house. I always had some kind of light on in the house but even then, once I got into bed I wouldn’t get up. I was terrified of something under my bed or lurking just out of sight in the darkness. One time we went camping for Girl Scouts and I cried until my mom let me sleep in the car.”
Without looking over, Cole finally speaks. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I was un-athletic. I played video games and spent most of my time on the computer or with my nose in a book. I wanted straight A’s and desperately to be valedictorian. Everything about me was the opposite of what I am today.” I shake my head at myself. “I was such a nerd.”
“But you’re here.”
“I am. I’m no longer afraid of the dark. In fact, I find it sort of comforting.” I turn to face him. I’m not prepared for what he says next.
“Thank you for taking care of Chloe.”
I stare at him for a second. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry I had to do it.”
“I know. She gave you no choice, but you…you gave me one by not making me do it. I owe you for that.”
“We don’t owe each other anything, Cole. We’re both just survivors out here.”
We settle into quiet. I have a million things I want to ask him; about himself or about the EVI-3 still running in my veins. The questions are on the tip of my tongue when I feel him watching me.
“What?” I ask.
“Is he good to you?”
He. Wyatt.
Just his name kicks my heart into gear and I feel my cheeks flush with heat. Cole doesn’t need to see my face to know these things. Even in the dark his senses, which are much stronger than mine, pick up on it but I answer him anyway. “Yes. I know he can be difficult to work with sometimes but—”
He holds up his hand. “Don’t. I just wanted to be sure, because you deserve the best.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be. Like I said, you deserve the best and that’s not me right now.” I touch his shoulder. He tenses. “But I’m trying.”
“Good. We don’t give up on each other out here. We can’t afford to.”
He opens his mouth to speak but whatever he was going to say he keeps to himself. An owl hoots in the distance and we pause, both listening for danger. For once, it doesn’t come.
Chapter Fourteen
We roll into Winston-Salem the next afternoon, parking the Camaro at the edge of the city. Cole and Paul don’t come into town with us. It’s too risky and although they haven’t given specifics it seems they’ve got their own mission.
We parted about thirty miles out and I took Paul to the side. “You guys be careful, okay? I doubt Walker is far behind.”
“Okay, mom.” He made a face but it was kind. Paul actually knew my mom and it’s always nice to have someone else who remembered her. “Hamilton may be unhinged but he’s right about the Hybrids.”
“So you’re going to track them?”
“Just trying to assess the situation with them and the other Mutts.”
“Yeah, I reiterate: be careful.” I glanced over at Cole, who was tinkering on his motorcycle with Jude’s help. “And take care of him. You’re right. I think he’s doing better but he’s got a ways to go yet.”
Paul searched my face. “How are you doing? Any side effects from the EVI-3? Jude says he still gets a kick from the juice here and there.”
“Yeah, a little. Nothing we can’t disguise and nothing I think that will stick around long term.” I frowned. “I guess that’s the downside of experimental medicine.”
“You guys use discretion. Don’t let anyone know.”
“We won’t.”
We parted from there, the sound of their motorcycles tearing down the road. They were not quiet but I supposed it was intentional. They wanted to lure their friends and enemies out of hiding.
The city has a similar gated system like New Hope so it must have been provided by the Feds before the Crisis, just like Hamilton explained. The metal structure rises two stories high and it’s visible two blocks away. Wyatt stops the five of us and says, “Don’t use your real names or give them any information about New Hope.” He gives Zoe a hard look. “Stick together.”
“How do we ensure that?” Jude asks.
Zoe points at Mary Ellen’s hand—and the silver band wrapped around her ring finger. “Tell them you’re married. If the process is similar to New Hope they won’t split up families.”
Jude raises his eyebrows at Mary Ellen and she nods. She looks better today. I think getting out of the mountains helped. “We can do that.”
Zoe looks at me and Wyatt. “It’s okay if you don’t have a ring. Just say it was stolen. But we’ve both got dark hair. I’ll tell them you’re my sister,” she says to me. I want to suggest being my sister carries a stigma that certainly doesn’t ensure safety but I nod my approval.
I clench my fingers on the straps of my bag and take a step toward the main road leading to the gate. A sharp tug brings me to a stop and Wyatt’s standing over my shoulder. Jude looks back and Wyatt says, “Give us a minute.”
“What’s up?” I ask, taking stock of the man before me. He’s got his hand shoved in his pocket and a tight jaw. His hair is longer than normal, curling behind his ears and the hair on his chin more beard than just scruff. He won’t look at me directly, instead somewhere near my right boot and cl
arity rings like a bell in my mind. “Look, we don’t have to pretend to be married. Zoe and I can play sisters. You can be our brother or whatever.”
He replies with a laugh and he glances up at me with amusement. “I’m not your whatever.”
“No.” I push my toe into the dirt on the ground and blink at the ground. “No, you’re not.”
He steps forward and I look back up, something shiny flashes in his hand. “I found this in your bag when you were gone—when Chloe took you.”
Emotion wells in my chest. “I thought I lost it.”
“I just wanted a piece of you with me. Then it felt like I should just…wait for the right time or something.” He catches my hand in his own and pushes the ring on my finger. “Now is not the right time. I know that and I know it’s not for real, but—”
“It’s real enough,” I say. I push up on my toes and kiss him on the lips. I’m not ready to be married but nothing about this world is normal anymore. I’ve found a partner I can trust and we’re good together. I’m not scared.
Mary Ellen’s eyes notice my new accessory immediately but there’s no time for discussion. Guards approach us and we’re about to enter another walled city and another quarantine and check point.
Zoe moves to my side and Wyatt’s fingers thread through mine. At least I won’t be doing it alone.
Chapter Fifteen
Winston-Salem is a small but functioning city. Getting through quarantine isn’t easy and we spend 48 hours being processed. It’s smart and although it’s tedious, no one complains. No one wants an infected roaming the streets.
For the interview we have a basic story; friends and family that managed to stay alive for nearly two years when our supplies ran out and we were forced on the road. Along the way we heard about Winston-Salem. It’s not far from the truth.
Just before we’re released were gathered for a smaller, less dramatic orientation that the city was chosen due to its size, location and strong medical and academic communities to be part of the Safe City program the government had established in case of catastrophe. It took time for the communities to get on their feet and the city itself is a fraction of the size of the original town, but they are in the process of establishing trade with New Hope.
