Zocopalypse (Death Fields 1)

***

Cole and I wait in the room for hours. My body, unused to being so still, can’t help but seek recovery. I sleep, stupidly, but life has come to this. You sleep while you can, even if you don’t trust the one you’re with.

I’m pissed at Cole. He put us both at risk. He should have come to my house immediately when my father went missing. He should have told me about the tracker and information immediately. How do I even know he’s telling the truth now?

The lock unbolts with a loud clink and I lurch to a sitting position, banging my head on the top bunk. Cole hasn’t moved from his spot on the floor. No surprise really. He’s a doctor—or a wannabe doctor, not a fighter like Wyatt.

God, Wyatt. He’s probably halfway to Georgia by now. With the truck and the pouch of information I’d foolishly shoved under the seat. The odds are good that I’ll never see it or the truck again. I glance at Cole, at his blond shaggy hair and a narrow sharp jaw. I wonder if Chloe will come back for him. The idea of Wyatt ditching her pleases me, which is just so, so dumb.

A second bolt moves and we both hop to our feet. My hand moves to my belt, feeling for the butt of my hatchet but of course it’s gone. Either left at the campground or they took it somewhere in this facility. From the corner of my eye, I see Cole’s hands ball into tight, useless fists.

The door opens and a woman in fatigues walks in carrying a green plastic tray. Her bright red hair tied in a tight knot at the base of her neck, the rest of her head encased in a camouflaged cap. She stops three feet away and I can see the smattering of freckles on her nose. She’s young-ish. Probably around Cole’s age.

The waft of food—cooked food—hits my senses and I look at the tray. Fried chicken and mashed potatoes…there’s even something green. Beans maybe. My mouth waters on cue.

She holds out the tray and Cole and I glance at one another. Do we take it? Hell yes, we take it. I can’t figure out how to get out of here if I’m starving to death.

“Thank you,” I say out of habit.

The tag on her chest says Walker. She ignores me and walks out of the room, the same shifting click of the lock a distinct reminder we’re captive.

“Guess they want us alive, huh?” Cole says handing me my plate.

I shove a plastic sporkful of potatoes in my mouth and try not to cry. From the food, from what this all means, at the overwhelming idea of trying to get out of here and most of all, the fact I’m trapped with a freaking traitor.

***

Walker returns two hours later to collect our licked clean plates. This time I say, “Why are we here? Can we talk to someone? Where are we?”

Again she’s silent and avoids eye contact. I spot the black handle of a firearm holstered at her side. “Seriously though,” I try again. “We’re just going to sit here?”

She moves to the door and opens it, conversing quickly with someone on the other side. Between the gun and the backup in the hallway it’s clear they don’t trust us. But why? I’m an eighteen year old girl with a Peace Corp volunteering doctor guy. Sure he’s good with a crossbow but without it I don’t see there being a huge problem.

Walker turns back to us with a bundle of green cloth in her hands. A small box sits on top and with a wrinkle of her nose, she says, “Feel free to take a shower and change.

“What if we refuse to?” Cole asks.

“Your loss.” She shrugs. “But they won’t let you out of here until you’ve cleaned up.”

She leaves again and we stare at the clothing and towels. Cole opens the box and finds shampoo and hygiene supplies. He opens a bottle and sniffs it. The room fills with a sweet floral scent. Like the food, it seems stupid to waste an opportunity to shower.

“Here,” he says handing me the smaller bundle and the box.

“No you go.”

“I’m offering,” he says.

“I don’t want to.” God, I really want to take a shower, but I’ve had time to think and I don’t like the wormhole I traveled down.

> He holds out the bundle again. I don’t take it. I just stand across from him, arms across my chest. Cole frowns. “What’s going on?”

“Just because we’re in this room together doesn’t mean we’re on the same side.”

The frown deepens, his eyebrows basically furrowing together. “We’re not?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“How did you come to that decision?”