Wyatt and Walker are in full assault mode, moving in a coordinated way I didn’t know either had the capability. The sound of fighting fills the air, punches and grunts. Never stopping, Wyatt uses the wall to leverage himself and executes a heart stopping kick to a soldier’s chest. While Walker moves like a cat, quick and sharp, claws out in the form of her baton and a fist. She pummels the face of the massive, first soldier.
“Ramsey!” Richardson’s voice booms down the stairwell. I look up and see him and the twins two floors above me.
I race to meet them. Cole reaches his arm out to mine. His eyes flick over my head. “Behind you!”
I look. I shouldn’t have but I look and one of the soldiers has gotten past the others. He tackles me by the waist, my head bashing hard against the metal stairs. “Not so fast,” he says, breathing in my face. He goes for my wrists, trying to hold me down. He and I both know he can’t kill me. I’m too valuable.
“Mother f—” I cry over my throbbing head. I grab for the gun tucked in my pants. Even though I’m kicking like a mad woman he still fights me for the weapon.
I get to it first and I know, deep in my soul, I will blow this asshat away. I knee him in the groin and manage to whip out the gun—leveling it at his face. Not the first time I’ve been in this position lately. The last time though, I was a scared girl. Not anymore.
“Move,” I grunt because I don’t want his brains splattered all over me.
He swipes at the gun but I simply cock the trigger. Beneath us are sounds of rapid clicks and clinks of metal and like Spiderman, a figure in black and gray flips over the railing. The soldier glances up but it’s too late. Wyatt has launched him back down the stairwell, sliding to an unconscious stop on the next landing, barely missing Walker running up the steps.
“Clear,” she says bypassing the two of us. Wyatt offers me his hand and pulls me up.
“Ugh,” I groan reaching for my head.
He cradles me against his shoulder. “You were right,” he says glancing down. His hair is falling out of the band in the back covering his eyes. We’re catching up to the others, all waiting at the door at the top.
“About what?”
“You forgot the rules already? How hard did you hit your head?”
I laugh and it makes my head hurt even worse. “I told you.”
“Yep. You did.” He nods and we reach the top. Chloe gives us both a tired but relieved smile. Cole…well, Cole just looks worried.
“Ready?” Walker asks tightening the straps on the backpack. Richardson bends over and I watch, confused, as she climbs on his back and shifts a panel in the ceiling. A dark hole emerges above us.
“That’s how we get out?” Chloe asks. Her tone reflects my own exhaustion.
“Yep.”
Voices carry from below from a new wave of soldiers on their way up. Walker hoists herself inside, disappearing into the dark. Chloe follows, and then Cole. Richardson and I get a boost from Wyatt, who then follows on his own with another surprising acrobatic move. We’re in an opening that leads to a tunnel, with just enough space to army crawl through. Walker and Richardson exchange a look that I barely catch with the limited light. He pulls a small square from the pocket on his chest and presses a button before replacing the panel and enveloping us in total darkness.
“How far does this go?” Cole asks from somewhere ahead.
“Far enough to get us to safety,” Walker replies.
That’s when the tunnel, the building and the earth trembles like an earthquake. I freeze and feel the others stiffen around me until Richardson commands, “Keep moving.”
We keep moving.
Chapter Fifty-Two
~Before~
? Days Ago
We wait out the night in the woods. This is the first time, actually, that we’ve stayed outside without some kind of shelter, for this long. It’s dark and muggy as hell. I realize now how so far we’ve really lucked out. Places to stay, vehicles to provide a barrier between us and the elements. I just need our luck to hold out a bit longer.
I spend the night on edge. Gun in one hand—hatchet in the other, freaking out over every sound or movement coming from the dark woods. We found a small stream of water for Mom to soak her foot in that also had enough rocks around it to provide coverage for our backs.
Once we settle in and eat, Mom drifts in and out of sleep. Her ankle looks bad. It’s swollen and bruised. I wrapped it in a wet t-shirt and she took some painkillers. Hopefully it will be better in the morning. I do know one thing—we can’t spend another night out like this. We’ve got to get moving. My nerves are shot.
A bullfrog calls in its deep voice downstream, looking for a mate. The crickets chirp and the stream gurgles. The noises drive me into my own head, looking for some quiet. One of the weird things about being alone like this is that my mind has time to wander…think about so many things. Regrets. Friends. Liza, Matt and even Paul. I think about trivial things like going to get tacos or swimming at the pool. Crushing on a boy or studying so hard for college.
All things that don’t matter anymore.
The problem is that with so much time is that there is nothing to shut off these thoughts. No new things to focus on. The only new things are terrifying things that I don’t want to think about either. Eaters. The military. Crazy post-apocalyptic crazy people. My dad. My sister. What to do next. Where to go…
It’s easier to think about before, when things were better even if it does make me sad.
A stick snaps across the creek and I freeze.
It’s just an animal,
I tell myself.
A raccoon or an opossum. Something nocturnal
. A rustle follows and I clutch my weapons tight to my chest, which is hammering like crazy. For real, I’m completely unsure if I will make it through the night without giving myself a heart attack.
I hear another movement nearby—and another. The old-world rational part of me wants to call out and see who is there. The new-world one wants to shoot first and ask questions later. I do neither. I hold my breath and pray to a God I am not entirely sure exists that we make it to live another day.
The movement comes my direction, padding softly on the wet sand on the bank of the creek, and then slowly splashing in the water’s edge. I hold up the gun with a way too shaky hand and wait. Just wait. Because all I want is for it—whatever it is—to move on.
I reach for my mom, about to shake her awake and scream for her to run when it finally comes close enough for me to actually see in dim moonlight. Two wide brown eyes and a black nose poke in my direction and I breathe out in shuddering relief.
The deer jumps back, stumbling in the water, before running down the creek noisily and disappearing into the night.
“Alex?” Mom asks sitting up. “Is everything okay?”
“Just a deer,” I tell her. “Get some rest.”
She curls back up but I can see her eyes reflected in the moonlight. Neither of us sleep.
Chapter Fifty-Three
~Now~
We emerge sometime later through a creaky trap door in the floor of a garage. The room is grimy and a big all-terrain truck with a canvas, camouflaged top sits in the middle flanked by a couple of guys in fatigues—all black—not the kind Erwin’s soldiers wear. They look like ninjas. Walker’s face breaks into wide grin.
“Took you long enough,” the guy closest to us says. He offers Walker a hand and she gives him the backpack and to my absolute surprise and interest, a passionate kiss.
“Okay then, I guess this is the right place,” I mutter from the hole.
Cole helps me out, his fingers searching to check the wound at the back of my head.
“I’m okay,” I promise, fighting off a howl of pain near the tender spot.
“Yeah, sure,” he says but stops fussing. He shifts his attention to Chloe.
“Did they inject you with anything?” Cole asks. He grabs her arms and looks them up and down. “Give you any medicine? Pills?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“What about him?” He nods toward Wyatt, who hops out behind me. He reveals his arms.
“I’m clean,” he says and walks past us over to the waiting men. Another series of bro-handshakes take place and I’ve definitely got more questions than I’m comfortable with but now is not the time. Everyone begins moving quickly, tossing bags and supplies into the truck.
“Here,” a ninja says tossing me a familiar looking bag. My bag. I rip into it and find all my stuff, my books, my photos, my clothes. He walks over to a table and comes back with a hatchet, no
my
hatchet in his hand. “This one’s yours too right?”
“Dude, how’d you get this?” I ask taking it from him. He doesn’t answer but goes to get Cole and Chloe’s belongings as well. Cole’s face breaks into a grin at the sight of his crossbow.
What a dork
, I think while marveling at how the weight of the hatchet feels perfectly at home in my hand.
We’re motioned to get in the truck and I settle in the back, under the canvas top between the twins. Richardson and two ninjas get in with us. The driver’s side door opens and through the back window, I see Wyatt slide behind the wheel. A shiver runs up my spine.
“Any idea what that’s about?” Cole whispers.
“Nope but everyone looks awfully friendly, don’t they?”
As the garage door opens and we exit down the road cloaked in thick trees, Cole turns to his sister and asks, “What happened to you guys?”
“After we split up from you guys we hunted for a couple hours,” she starts in a low voice. “Wyatt caught some rabbit. When we got back to the site we ran into a couple of Eater’s in full rage mode. After fighting them off and searching the area, it was pretty obvious that those Eaters were left to distract us from the fact you’d been taken. We saw the tranq darts on the ground.”
“Then what?” I ask.
“We hightailed it out of there in the truck—camped out for a couple of days circling around to the base. I was freaking out.” She looks at her brother—tears in her red, tired eyes. “That’s when Wyatt tells me he knows where you are and that he’s got a plan to get you guys back. I just have to play along.”
“He knew the whole time where we were?” I ask.
“Play along with what?” Cole interrupts, keeping on track. He’s right because of course Wyatt knew. It feels like everyone knows what’s going on around here but me.
She gives a slight shrug. “That night we left the truck and started hiking. By dawn we’d been spotted by the military. Right before they got us, Wyatt said, ‘Fight back but let them take you in.’ That’s what I did. And now we’re here.”
The truck rumbles along and I try to process what Chloe is saying—what’s going on right now. Richardson pushes the flap covering the window and peeks outside. His eyes narrow from the bright light and his shoulders stiffen.
“Are we really safe from Erwin out here?” I ask him.
The truck lurches to a stop and I notice his grip tighten around his gun. Without looking over he says, “Erwin’s not our problem at the moment.”
I hear them over the rumble of the truck’s large engine. A mixture of moan and howl—some more agitated than others.
Not now,
I think
.
With a sense of dread, I push open the flap nearest me.
“Oh, my God,” Cole says also looking out.
A sea of Eater’s surrounds us—more than I’ve ever seen before. They bob and drift aimlessly, searching for something with their dark, spidery eyes.
“There are so many,” I say trying to comprehend the sheer number. Since this all started I hadn’t encountered more than a couple at a time. I thought things were more under control—people safe at the evacuation centers. People holed up in their houses. “I didn’t realize…”
“The plague is here, Ramsey,” Richardson says. “Did you think it was going to get better?”
A mile or so beyond them I see high brick and wire fences. Barricades cover any path or road. “What is that?”
“That’s the base we just rescued you from,” a ninja says, his face pale and tense. “We knew these bastards were out there but had no idea there would be this many. Erwin’s been busy.”
Richardson glances at me. “Erwin has spent the last month capturing as many Eaters as possible to surround the base. No one goes in or out without his permission or without dying. This is about weapons, Ramsey. The virus. The Eaters. What the Colonel said the other day was correct, we’re in a war.”
“Then why the hell did you take us out this way?” Chloe asks.
“It was now or never. That escape tunnel led us to a warehouse just outside the fence line. But this horde is thick. Erwin is a genius—he knew we may get the jump on him but not without fighting for it,” Richardson continues.
“But…” I struggle for words. “Who are you? Who are you working for?”
The truck rumbles to life again, Wyatt obviously having made a tactical decision from the front of the truck. Richardson looks over and says over the deafening roar of cannibals, “PharmaCorp, of course.”
***
The roar turns to a screech when the truck comes under attack. There are hundreds of E-TRs outside, maybe a thousand. We’ve got two soldiers, a couple of ninjas, a super lying-liar ninja named Wyatt, the twins and me. We’re screwed even if I do have my trusty hatchet back.
“Davis, man the roof,” Richardson barks. “Cooley, the back.”
The ninja named Davis springs into action and pushes a flap in the top of the canvas and pops out, taking his automatic weapon with him. Within seconds, he’s firing, spent shells raining down at his feet.
“What do we do?” I scream to Richardson.
“
We
fight,” he says. “
You
stay here—you’re precious cargo.”
Oh hell, the reality of his admission about working for PharmaCorp hits home. This is about getting me, the human lab test, to their bosses. I glance at Cole and its clear he’s caught on too.
“Screw that,” I say. Cole nods while loading his bow. Chloe checks the gun she tucked in her waistband earlier, and then picks up a long blade. Bullets aren’t going to last very long with this crowd.. “Sitting by isn’t what kept us alive all this time—which by the way we managed to do okay before Erwin kidnapped us.”
Richardson stares at me for a minute and says, “Fine. We’ve got to distract these monsters.” He shoves a box in my direction and I drop to my knees to open it. “Grenades. Toss them as far as you can to the left of the truck. I’ll take the right.”
He uses a knife to rip open another hole in the roof.
“You two keep it clear down here,” he directs the twins. They nod and shift into position.
Standing, it becomes obvious that we have to get from where we are in the middle of the drive to the main road a hundred yards away. We can’t do it on foot—we’ll get eaten alive. Wyatt moves the truck forward slowly, rolling over the screaming ETR’s, while Walker and Davis pick them off as they climb over the hood of the truck.
The grenade feels small and compact in my hand. I spring the trigger like Richardson showed me and toss it as far away as possible. The orb sails through the air, landing in the middle of the swaying beasts. The second it lands the earth shakes with an explosion, a second comes from the other side and I clamp my hands over my ears on instinct. Before my eyes, Richardson’s words have come to life. We are definitely in a war. One side uses weapons—the other teeth.
The distraction works—at least a little and the mindless Eater’s shift toward the explosion. I wind up again and throw the next one in a different location, while I hear the grunts from Cole down below, beating off the closest ones with the butt of his bow.
Wyatt moves the truck forward slowly and I wipe my forehead, sticky with sweat and from the looks of it Eater blood. Maybe my own? I don’t know. My ears ring from gunshots and explosions. I reach for another grenade but Richardson hands me my hatchet instead and gestures for me to fight below. I drop down to help the twins and hack away at the ones trying to get inside.
Leaning over the back tailgate I chop away at the hands trying to get inside. Pale, dirty hands. Caked in blood and guts. Even over the sulfur they reek, no longer smelling like humans. The longer this virus holds on the less alive these people are.
Richardson bangs on the top of the cab. “Faster man, we’re running out of ammunition and time.” Wyatt picks up the pace, but that makes the back of the truck rock and lurch. The explosions have amped up the remaining Eater’s—they’ve got too much anger—hunger. I crack a female with long matted hair in the head with the hatchet and her head splits open like a melon. The insides are black with death.
God.
I look ahead and see that we’re close to the main road, and the hoard is thinning out. Carnage lies behind us, but we’re not completely in the clear. The truck drags from the bodies beneath it. Literal road kill.
“Hold on,” Wyatt yells from the cab. He shifts the truck into gear and again it lurches forward as he tries to dislodge the bodies. I fly forward landing face first on the dirty, hard tuck bed. Chloe screams and I scramble to get up but all I see are boots and feel a scuffle over my head.
“Chloe!” Cole yells as I roll to the side. An Eater has her by the neck, dragging her halfway out of the truck. Her feet kick in front of me, trying to hold on and I grab them, my muscles aching, to pull her back.
Cole moves fast and hard, slamming the butt of his bow into the Eater’s decaying head. Even from below I hear the crack and Chloe’s ragged breathing. The truck lurches again, this time faster and harder and everyone else tumbles to the bed with me. Everyone but Richardson who wobbles backwards. He reaches for something to hold on to but the ragged canvas top is too compromised. With a panicked, pissed off look in his face, he topples over the side of the truck.
“Get him!” Davis yells diving after him. Cole holds him back and God love him, Richardson jumps to his feet. He doesn’t even stop to assess the situation—the fact he’s so terribly outnumbered. He starts swinging, kicking ass and cracking skulls. He’s got a crazy smile on his face when the closest Eater’s descend—they’ve been waiting to sink their teeth in one of us all night and from the look on his face he’s been waiting to dish it out—one by one until he’s got nothing left. I reach for my hatchet, but Cole’s hand wraps around mine.
“Go!” Richardson screams at us, just as a massive Eater tears into his shoulder. He locks eyes with Davis and holds a fist in the air. “Do it for the FF!”
“No!!” Davis yells, but he’s also holding his fist in the air. Wyatt moves the truck forward, finally gaining full speed with the Eater’s occupied.
We’re driving away when the scream pierces my skull and I look away, down at my dirty pants covered in dust and blood. I should watch, acknowledge what he’s done for us, but I don’t. I’m weak and exhausted and this world has turned me into someone I don’t like.
***
The water in the pot is boiling—perfect to try to burn away the blood staining my hands, to wash my face…anything to cleanse the darkness of where we are.
“Are you okay?” Chloe asks. We’re in the bathroom together sharing the pot of water. She’s wearing only a bra and fatigues and the ring of bruises left by the Eater are clearly visible. No scratches…that I can see. “What did they do to you there?”
She’s seen my own bruises. The speckled tracks left by the needles on the inside of my arms. I turn and look around the industrial bathroom located in the back of some junkyard Wyatt brought us to. The place is fenced in and abandoned. Nothing but heaps of rusted out cars and a couple of garage bays.
I open my mouth to speak but thankfully, a tap on the door interrupts whatever response I was planning on giving her.
She pulls a clean shirt over her head and cracks open the door. Wyatt’s tired face peeks through the opening.
“I need to talk to Alex when you’re done,” he says. I nod and continue to scrub my hands. He’s right, we do need to talk.
Chloe shuts the door and gathers her small bag of belongings. “If you need anything, I’m around—hopefully eating something. I’m freaking starving.”
I finish packing up my own bag, laying the wet shirt I washed over a metal rod on the wall. I enter the first garage and see the ninjas and Walker. They’re sitting in a circle with a bottle of something brown. The soldier lifts her glass in salute—toasting Richardson. Something tightens in my chest and I look down at my feet. It sucks losing people—even when you don’t know them. Or really even like them.