Zocopalypse (Death Fields 1)

“We have one rule, Wyatt. One. Rule.”

“Not this again.” His voice is loud. “What’s the big freaking deal? I’m still here—just in another room. And it’s not even like you’re alone!”

I react fast, moving with speed I didn’t know I had and a level of anger I’m unfamiliar with. My hatchet is out, blade close to Wyatt’s neck. He stands still but it’s not fear I see in his eyes. It’s annoyance.

“Alex, I swear to God,” he says, eyes flicking behind me.

I’m acutely aware of Cole watching me from his spot next to sink. I don’t care.

“You never go out of sight. Do it again and you may have a blade to the head, not just to the throat.”

“Come on, Alex, drop the hatchet,” Cole says.

Wyatt cuts his eyes in Cole’s direction. “Stay out of this, man.”

The visibility in the room dims, cloaking us almost in complete darkness. I instinctively look to the ceiling—for the lights but a banging noise draws my attention to the front of the diner. Hands and faces press into the glass, enough to block out the sun.

“You know I’m not leaving you, right?” Wyatt says to me.

The hatchet wavers, heavy in my hand.

“Whatever, man, she’s scared,” Cole argues.

“I don’t need you to tell me how she’s feeling,” Wyatt barks. He’s yelling but the sound of his voice is drowned out by the Eater’s screaming outside.

Cole raises his voice even higher and shouts, “Really? Because you obviously don’t get it.”

“Shut up! Both of you! Don’t talk about me like I’m not standing right here,” I yell. “I’m not scared of you leaving. I’m just…I have shit to do and places to be. I can’t waste time tracking you down everytime something shiny catches your eye.”

“Alex…” Cole starts, there’s something in his eyes, a thread I want to pull.

“I’m done,” I say lifting my bag off the counter and slinging it over my shoulder. My big exit is cut short when a loud crack tears through the room. The next sound is the crash of Eater’s falling through the window. I charge toward the back door, pushing it open and stepping into the glaring sunlight.

I hear them coming and for once don’t care. I’m tired. Exhausted. Too much in too little time. A female Eater turns the corner wearing a tie-dye Grateful Dead t-shirt and charges me before I can get to the truck. I spin on my heel and slam my hatchet right into the top of her head. Blood pours out and she drops. I heave the hatchet out of her skull and sling it toward the next one. Cutting his head off clean.

They keep coming and I keep fighting, barely recognizing the sound of the others in the fight with me. Wyatt is too injured for a physical fight but he can still fire a gun and he unloads into the chests of the nearest Eaters. Their bodies jerk back on impact, before falling to the ground. Chloe has the good sense to run to the truck. The engine flares to life.

“Come on,” Cole says grabbing my arm. My arms are streaked with blood but the adrenaline pumps like lightning in my veins. I want to take this anger out on someone—something and there’s a whole group of monsters asking for it right here. “Now, Alex.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” I argue like a child. The set of his jaw tells me otherwise.

I lunge at the nearest Eater, one who so riddled by the virus his eyes are black. Cole yanks me backwards and tosses me into the open tailgate. He slides in next to me and drags me away from the edge. I hear scuffling near the truck and muttered cursing from Wyatt. I try to sit up but Cole holds me back, arms tight around my chest. I breathe out when I hear the slam of the passenger side door.

The truck peels out of the parking lot. Cole’s arms are still locked around my body and I stare up at the perfect blue sky, worn out.

“Care to explain that?” Cole asks now that I’ve stopped resisting.

“No.”

“It’s okay to break down every once in a while. This has all been a really big…adjustment.” I hear his voice in my ear and to my absolute annoyance find it soothing. “But going off like that was dangerous as hell. Dangerous for all of us.”

“I never wanted there to be an all of us,” I say fighting back tears. “It was just supposed to be my mom and me.”

He releases me and I sit up, hair whipping around my face in a frenzy. The landscape around us is nothing but pasture and farmland. Rows of sun beaten cotton, soybeans, and tobacco as far as the eye can see. Everything about it is deceptively peaceful.

“Do you want Chloe and me to leave? We can. I just thought we’d be safer with more people.”

I shake my head. It doesn’t matter to me if they stay or go, but he’s right. Four sets of eyes are better than two. I look through the back of the truck window at the back of Wyatt’s head. Cole’s eyes follow my own.