by Cronan, Matt
"Why?"
"I don't know."
There was a long pause. Finally, Cole said, "I'll turn into one of those things. I'll hurt you. I'll hurt her."
Sam raised her head and looked at him through blurry eyes. "You won't."
"How do you know?" Cole asked.
"Because I won't let you."
Cole opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted by shouting from somewhere inside the camp. Sam's heart dropped and the two of them sprung from the table and ran toward Alex.
They sprinted toward the center of the camp until they came across a large crowd of soldiers that had gathered outside one of the tents marked with a white medical cross. The group was all talking amongst themselves and didn't notice Sam and Cole.
"What's going on?" Sam said as she pushed through the crowd.
Another one of Alex's blood-curdling screams shot out from behind the canvas flap and Cole barreled over several of the soldiers. Sam followed close on his heels. She unsheathed her knife, ready for whatever was waiting for them on the opposite side of the tent.
They made it to the front of the crowd and entered the tent. Alex was standing on the opposite side of the room. She was holding a pistol and waving it around erratically at anyone who came within a few feet of her. Sawyer stood in the back corner of the room motionless, his side holster empty.
"Alex," Sam said. "What are you—?"
"I'm pregnant," she said, her voice shaking. Tears streamed down her face and the gun trembled in her hand.
"What?" Sam asked.
"I'm pregnant!" she sobbed. She aimed the barrel of the gun toward her stomach as if to emphasize what she was saying. "I'm pregnant with the President's baby." She took a deep breath and then screamed again. "There's a fucking monster growing inside of me! I have to get it out."
Sam grasped the reality of the situation, laid the knife on the floor and took a small step toward Alex. "They can take care of it," she said trying to keep her tone as even as possible. "They'll make it go away and everything will be okay."
"Like the doctor in Lost Angel took care of Cole?"
Sam didn't say anything. She held her breath as Alex processed the dozens of emotions that were swirling through her brain.
"It should have been me that died," Alex said.
"No," Sam said. "I promise you, we'll get through this together. Everything will be okay."
"No it won't," Alex said through tears. "Nothing will ever be okay again. Nick is dead. He's fucking dead!"
Sam took another step forward, but Alex raised the gun. It was enormous in her small hand. She aimed it at Sam and placed her finger on the trigger. "We should have never left Lost Angel. You should have never come back for me. This is your fault. This is all your fault. If it wasn't for you, none of this would have happened."
"Alex…" Sam searched for the words that would make her put down the pistol, but nothing sounded right. Finally, she said, "I'm sorry."
"I am too," Alex said, and then she placed the barrel of the gun against her temple and pulled the trigger.
5
"This isn't going to end well," Jordan said.
Sam opened her eyes. The nightmare had returned, and she stood face to face with the horrific memory of her past. She stood in the field staring out over the inferno. A breeze picked up carrying an odor of burnt flesh and decay from the burning city beyond. Behind her, the Ferris wheel rocked back and forth, letting out ominous squeaks each time.
"Why?" Sam asked. The shattered remnants of her heart dug into her chest. "Why does it have to be like this?"
"Because David wants it that way," Jordan answered.
"David?"
She turned and saw the boy from her past standing near the Ferris wheel. His naked flesh seemed to be peeling from his body and his eyes were milky-white orbs. The boy didn't move, didn't breathe, or make a sound.
"This is all his work," Jordan said. "This whole world is all his creation."
"What do you mean?"
David's body jerked and his head snapped backwards, his neck cracking in a bone-chilling fashion. The boy fell to his hands and knees and crawled a few steps toward them. Sam gasped and took a step back, but Jordan grabbed her hand and squeezed.
"Don't be afraid," Jordan said. "He can't hurt you here."
"Why does he want to hurt me at all?" Sam asked.
"Because he can. Because he's one of them."
"One of whom?"
"One of the bad people."
The words were juvenile and unlike something Jordan would say. She turned to see not Jordan Riggs holding her arm, but Rebecca. Blood filled the small girl's eyes and a stream of crimson dripped from her nose.
Sam pulled away and took an awkward step back. She fell into the high grass and the girl grew in front of her eyes. Her blonde hair turned a shade of lavender and her skull cracked open where the bullet had exited. Blood poured from her head and Alex took a step closer. In her peripheral vision, David was moving closer as well; his head canted all the way back so that his skull touched his upper back. He crawled toward her in short jerky motions and let out a high-pitched squeal.
Alex lowered herself on top of Sam, straddling her hips. Sam's heart raced in her chest as her outstretched arms searched for anything to defend herself, but found nothing. A moment later, she felt David clutching her hand, and she screamed.
"Sam," Alex said, but the word came out in a gurgle and blood poured from the girl's mouth. "You did this. You promised it would be okay."
"No," Sam said as she tried.
"You promised!"
Sam opened her eyes as she woke up into a world of darkness. She sat up and put her arms out in front of her in case the nightmare carried over into reality and Alex or David was in arm's reach. They weren't. She was alone.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she fought to gain some semblance of familiarity, but the world was pitch-black. She put her head in her hands and sobbed until someone unzipped her tent flap. Moonlight spilled into the tent and a large hulking beast emerged in the entrance. Sam slammed her eyelids shut and dug her fingernails into her thigh. She was convinced she was still dreaming.
"You alright, Miss Sam?"
It wasn't a monster. It was Cole. She exhaled and opened her eyes. She wiped her cheeks off with the back of her hand and stymied a sniffle. "I'm okay," she whispered. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the lack of light, but she could make out Cole's face through the darkness. The big man looked as if he had aged ten years. "What happened?" she managed.
"You took it hard," Cole said. "The doctors' had to drug you before you killed somebody. Nothin' bad, just somethin' to make you sleep."
Sam didn't remember losing it. The image of Alex standing in front of her flashed through her brain. Then the aftermath of the trigger-pull. But nothing after that. Sam tried to clear her mind but couldn't. "How?"
"What?"
"How did she have Sawyer's gun?"
"Asked the same question after everything was over," Cole said. "Sawyer said she must have lifted it off of him when they were walking to the medical tent."
Sam shook her head. It didn't make sense. "You believe him?"
"No, but I don't know why he'd lie. And it's not like he pulled the trigger."
Sam thought about this for a moment and then asked, "What if she wasn't pregnant?"
"But why?" Cole asked dropping his voice to a whisper so low that Sam had to strain to hear him. "Why would they go to all the trouble to get us back here? Why would Sawyer go on for so long about what's really going on outside? Just to trick some little girl into killin' herself? It don't make sense."
The image of the blood-soaked canvas tent filled Sam's brain. She remembered running to Alex and putting a hand in the girl's warm, wet hair. She forced the image out of her mind and thought. "What if that's how they were going to get us to stay?" she said after a moment. "Tell her she was pregnant, expecting us to stay with her."
Cole stroked his b
eard. "What about the gun? Why would she have pulled it off of him before they got to the tents?"
Sam shook her head. "I don't think Alex has ever even held a gun. How would she get it out of Sawyer's holster without him knowing?"
"Then when?"
"I don't know…" Sam's voice trailed off as an even darker thought crossed her mind. What if the plan was to just get them to stay long enough? What if someone was coming for them? "How long have been out?"
"Day and a half."
"Cole, we need to get out of this place. Now."
They had stripped off Sam's clothes; the remnants of the little black dress and President Gates' cargo pants. The moonlight revealed that they had replaced the tattered rags with a pair of sweats. She was barefoot and tiny pebbles cut into her already blistered feet as the duo slunk back to Cole's tent next door. She would need to get shoes before they left. A wave of panic washed over her. "Cole, do you still have the supplies?"
"Some," he said as lifted the flap of the neighboring tent.
Sam stood in the darkness as Cole fumbled around for a long moment. There was a loud click, and a flame cut through the pitch-black. Cole held a glass lantern, but Sam wasn't focused on him. All of her attention was drawn to the man with the red beard sitting in the corner of Cole's tent.
"You two goin' somewhere?" Sawyer asked.
Without thinking, Sam lunged toward him but the man moved with same speed and skill as her. He sidestepped her and then delivered a rear kick to Sam's knee. She crashed into the ground, hitting her head on the metal folding chair that Sawyer had been sitting in.
"I'm not here to stop you—" Sawyer tried to say, but Cole punched him square in the jaw. Sawyer stumbled and his bloody lips gleamed in the lamplight.
Sam was back on her feet in an instant with the collapsed steel chair in hand. She swung as hard as she could, but Sawyer blocked the brunt of the blow with his forearm. In one swift motion, Sawyer flicked a left jab that connected with Sam's nose while simultaneously snatching the chair away with his other hand. The blow rocked Sam, but she managed to keep her feet.
"I'm trying to help you two," Sawyer said, but the scowl on his face said otherwise.
Cole wrapped his massive arms around the soldier in a reverse bear hug. The chair fell to the floor as Sawyer struggled to break free. Sam lunged forward and snatched the pistol from the holster on the man's waistband. In one smooth motion, she flipped off the safety and pressed the barrel underneath Sawyer's chin. The man stopped struggling at once.
"Tell me how a little girl unholstered your gun without you knowing," Sam said.
"You're no little girl," Sawyer answered.
Blood rushed into Sam's face and she slammed her knee into Sawyer's groin. The man groaned, but Cole kept him upright. "You know who I'm talking about. How the fuck did Alex get your gun?"
Sawyer was about to speak when Sam detected a flutter of movement coming from the tent's entrance. She removed the barrel of the gun from Sawyer's face and aimed it at the tent.
"No," Sawyer barked. "Stand down. Whoever is outside, stand down."
Sam's finger tightened over the trigger.
"Please," Sawyer pleaded. "Don't do it. The girl didn't lift the gun off my person. I was an idiot. I set it down and went out for a smoke. I hate carrying it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Shut up," Sam said as she tried to process what he said. Outside the tent, she could hear voices whispering. It was only a matter of time before the whole camp was gathered out there.
"We're on the same side," Sawyer said. "What happened to the girl was an unfortunate accident, and I take full responsibility for—" At this, Sam shoved the pistol back against his throat. Sawyer's eyes widened, but he continued. "I understand if you want to leave. We'll give you as many supplies as you can carry. All I'm asking for is that you don't hurt my men."
A long moment of silence passed before Sam spoke again. "Was she really pregnant?"
"Yes."
"And your doctors can verify this? They can show me proof if I ask for it?"
"Yes."
Sam removed the gun from Sawyer's throat and nodded to Cole, who released him. "We're leaving tonight. I want two weeks' worth of supplies, fresh food for the next few days, and whatever you have that will last beyond that. And as much water as you can give us."
Sawyer nodded.
"I want a change of clothes, socks and shoes. I need weapons and survival gear. And I need one of your trucks with a full tank of gas."
Sawyer scoffed at this and the gun barrel shot straight back to his throat.
"You will do everything I say, give me everything I ask for, or when Cole and I leave this place, we'll be leaving a city full of bodies. I will kill every single one of you myself if I have to." She feathered the trigger with her finger. "Do you believe me?"
"Yes."
"Where's Alex?" Sam asked. Sawyer shifted uncomfortably and Sam buried the barrel of the gun even deeper into his flesh. "Where is she?"
"The medical team did an autopsy of her body," Sawyer said. "We buried her a few hours ago. Sgt. Porter was there. He'll attest that we gave her a proper burial."
The words caught in her throat and tears stung at her eyes, but Sam wouldn't cry in front Sawyer or anyone else. She was done crying. "Is that true, Cole?"
"Yes, Miss Sam."
Sam relaxed her arm. "You'll take me to her burial site while the rest of your team preps our gear. And then you'll accompany us to the gate where we will drive out of here. Do you understand?"
Sawyer nodded. His tough exterior had melted into a mixture of sorrow and fear.
"And you understand what will happen if you or anyone of your team doesn't comply?"
Sawyer nodded again.
"Then lead the way."
6
She wanted to cry but didn't. There was no gravestone or even a marker. Just a mound of loose dirt in the back corner of the campsite. It was surrounded by a dozen other graves. A dozen more needless deaths in Concordia's little game. Sam buried her fingers into the cool dirt and wondered when it would all stop. With Cole's death? With hers? Ever? She hadn't started this war, but would she be the one to end it? Or would she end up in her own unmarked grave somewhere along the way. The questions ran through her mind as she kneaded the earth between her fingers.
Cole stood somberly behind her, and to his left, Sawyer said what sounded like a hushed prayer. Their host had ordered the doctor's lab results to be brought to them immediately, as well as firing off a bevy of other commands, as they departed for the gravesite. In her peripherals, she could see the two doctors approaching them from the distance. Sam whispered a goodbye to the teenage refuge and stood.
"Captain," Sawyer said and cleared his throat, "this is Dr. Etter and Dr. Alvarez. They were the ones that examined Alex."
Sam turned and faced the two men. One of them was a tall, heavy-set man with curly gray hair. He held a piece of paper in between his long pale fingers. Sawyer identified him as Dr. Etter. The other, a squat frog-faced man, sported a long black ponytail and wrung his hands nervously.
"Tell me what happened." Sam said as she pulled Sawyer's pistol from the waistband of her sweats. She wrapped her finger around the trigger, but kept it aimed at the ground. "And if you skip any details, you'll be dead before you hit the ground."
The shorter doctor spoke, "We hooked the girl—"
"Alex," Sam interrupted and raised the pistol in his direction. "Show some respect."
"S-s-sorry," the short doctor stammered. He wiped his brow with his sleeve and continued. "W-W-We tried…we tried…"
"We hooked Alex up to a saline drip," the taller doctor said, taking over the conversation, "and drew a few vials of her blood to test for traces of the RIZ-4 virus. Results came back normal except…"
"Except what?"
"Except she had an elevated hCG level of approximately 150,000; a level you would expect to see in a woman during the end of her first trimester." The tall doctor exten
ded the printout to Sam, but she didn't take it. After a moment, the doctor lowered the paper and continued. "We asked Alex about her sexual history, and after hearing about her encounters in Lost Angel determined that a vaginal examination was necessary. The exam confirmed our diagnosis, and we informed her about the pregnancy."
"And then?" Sam asked as she lowered the pistol, dreading to hear the rest.
"And then the patient—" the short doctor began.
Sam covered the short distance between them with two quick steps and swung. The barrel of the pistol smashed into Dr. Alvarez's face, opening a deep gash above his eye. He stumbled backward and as he did Sam swung again. This time the metal connected with the top of his scalp and the doctor crashed into the ground. "Her name is Alex!" Sam screamed. "Do you fucking understand?"
The doctor made no indication that he did or did not understand, and instead twitched on the ground. Sam was vaguely aware of Sawyer approaching from her rear and spun on him, aiming the sight of the Beretta right between his eyes. He stopped in his tracks and held both of his hands up in surrender.
"We are not enemies," Sawyer said.
"We are today," Sam answered.
Two men emerged in the distance, but Sam kept the pistol aimed at Sawyer. They approached quickly at first but slowed when they realized the severity of the situation. One of them called out, "We've got a jeep gassed and loaded, Captain."
Sam cringed at the title. She wasn't sure of Sawyer's rank but she was sure that the soldier had been talking to her. What if they really were on her side? What if they could have helped her beyond the supplies? It didn't matter now. "Cole, are you ready to head east?"
"Yes," Cole said. But the tone in his voice said otherwise.
"Then let's go."
Sawyer led the group back to the front of the encampment as the moon dipped lower in the sky. It would be sunrise soon. Sam never took her aim off of his backside, and kept her senses attuned in case someone jumped out from the shadows to stop them. No one did though, and they made it safely back to the front of the walled city where the jeep and a small cluster of soldiers waited for them. A small mountain of canvas towered above the rear of the jeep, and Sam's heart ached.
