Zocopalypse (Death Fields 1)

“Alex,” I hear him call, I back out of the car. A small ting hits the window.

Cole is in the same spot but facing me, hand resting on his neck. A tuft of color sticks between his fingers. Narrowing my eyes I see it’s a syringe. My hand wraps around my hatchet. There’s another tuft of feathers on the ground by my feet.

What is that? I bend over to pick it up.

“Don’t,” he says, his voice strained. I glance up.

Hatchet out, crouched position. “Cole?”

“Run,” he says, but I don’t. I can’t. He’s a piece of my past. The link to my father. Even though I’m angry and confused I’m not leaving him until I find out the truth.

Bodies rush toward him—the soldiers from before, covered head to toe in camouflage. Sleek black guns flash as he slumps forward. I lift my hatchet and take a jab at the one closest to me, cutting him on the shoulder. He goes for my wrists. Another levels the barrel of a rifle at my face. I step on the foot of the one holding me back, before kicking at the one with the gun. He grunts, dodging out of the way but a second weapon discharges, close to my ear and directly into my neck. I grab at the syringe but the hazy cloud cloaks my mind.

“What do you want?” I mumble, the words feeling like marbles in my mouth.

The man with the mustache comes into view, tranq gun in his hands. “We’ve been searching for you, Ms. Ramsey.”

“What?” My head floats.

“You’ve managed to avoid us for weeks now. Impressive for a girl your age.” He glances at Cole, lying in a heap on the ground. “Although it seems like you’ve had a little help.”

“What do you want from me?” I try to say but even I know the words don’t come out. The ground shifts beneath me and I slip into black.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

~Before~

4 Weeks Ago

“Watch your step,” I say. She trips anyway. Over a charred arm, no longer attached to a body. “Like that.”

She straightens herself, smoothing her shirt. Looking around she says, in a wavering voice, “How can you be so calm about all of this?”

“Do we really have any other choice?”

She’s wrong. I’m not calm. Underneath the surface I’m at a near epic level of terror and panic. There are bodies everywhere, like the aftermath of a battle. With every step I search for that red patch. For Paul’s black hair. When I don’t find either I can’t decide if I feel better or worse. Is it better to be alive at this point or dead? As we approach the bridge I’m not sure.

The smoke from the fire billowed for hours, finally settling into a slow burn. The stench is terrible. I have no doubt that the odor has seeped into my skin, my hair…definitely my clothes. It’s as though we’ve become the dead ourselves.

At dusk we left the cab of the truck and picked our way through the debris. Like everything simply getting the three blocks to the bridge proves difficult. Forty-five minutes later we make it. The soles of our shoes gummy with flesh.

“Do you have the map,” Mom asks. We’re hiding in a dark spot, against a tiny wooden shed, viewing the remains of our city. Like our house and neighborhood before it, I have to assume we’ll never see it again. “We head straight from here to the cabin.”

“It will probably take us weeks.” The sticky, bloody guts on the bottom of my shoes are not boosting my optimism.

Her fingers lace through mine. “We can do it and when we finally get there, hopefully your father will be waiting for us.”

The now familiar howl of an Eater bounces off the buildings on the other side of the city. Soon its cry is followed by others and a chill runs up my spine. A noise below catches my attention and I spot an Eater fighting against the current from the river below. He sees or smells us. If there’s one there will be more.

“Come on,” I say pulling her away from the bridge, away from our past and toward the uncertain future.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

~Now~

I wake in a gray room, lying on a bottom bunk. My head feels like lead—had I been clobbered by a brick? The image of the tranq dart sticking out of Cole’s neck lingers in my hazy memory. Cole=LabGuy. My head hurts too much to figure it out. They took us both out and brought us…well, somewhere.

Unable to move I stare above. The metal slats and springs of the upper bed feel too close, especially with the blur of my compromised vision.