The Girl Who Kicked Ass (Death Fields 3)

The can of soup squeezes between my socks and my hair brush. I look at the table, wondering if the packet of jerky will fit or if I’m going to just have to shove that in my pocket. I fold the package as tight as I can and push it through the zipper, ignoring the footsteps coming down the hallway.

“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you,” Wyatt says. Without looking, I can tell he’s having to grit his teeth against the pain.

“I just needed to grab a couple of things.”

I tug at the zipper, closing up my pack. I’ve got ammo, two guns, a knife, and my hatchet that I recovered by a miracle outside.

“Looks like you’re going somewhere.”

I lift the bag. It’s a little heavier than I’d like, but I don’t have a choice. “Does it?”

“What the hell are you doing, Alex?”

I turn to face him and can’t help but shake my head. “God, you’re a mess,” I tell him. I can barely make out his features underneath the bruises and cuts.

“Thanks,” he says. “Now answer my question.”

“I’m just going through some of the supplies down here. It’s not like we can use this shelter again.”

He looks at my backpack, the weapons, and my clothes and crosses his arms over his chest. “Erwin’s looking for you.”

“Great.”

“You should go see him.”

“I will. Thanks for telling me.” I fight with the shoulder strap on my bag, trying to make it tighter. Wyatt steps forward and takes the fabric from my fingers.

“You won’t make it to the Fort, you know that, right? They’ve surely tripled their security by now.”

I slap his hands away but he’s already adjusted them so the strap fits perfectly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re going back for him,” he declares.

“Who?” I ask, but the set of his jaw reveals the slightest hint of hurt and it’s easy to guess. “I’m not going after Cole. He made his decision and I’m not risking my life to get him back here.”

“He saved us out there. Gave us the chance to get away,” he says.

“Maybe, but Cole is fighting a battle I’m not sure I can help with right now.” I mean this, and as much I want to be able to help him, I’ve got bigger plans.

I push past him and start up the stairs. “Come on, are we going to see Erwin or not?”

“Alex.”

I take the steps two at a time, knowing for once he can’t keep up. Daylight shines at the top and it’s still a shock to enter the world above. The battle nearly destroyed the Center. The sky smells of smoke and death. I step carefully over the debris and blood-soaked ground and head to the part of the main office that is still standing. It’s Erwin’s office for the moment.

Just outside, I circle around and stash my pack behind a still-standing trash bin, wedging it in tight. I’m back to the front by the time Wyatt catches up, his face contorted in pain. I reach for the door but before I open it his hand clenches around my arm. I pause because he fights for breath and I don’t want him to pass out on me.

“Don’t do something stupid.”

“You should go rest,” I tell him. “Heal up. We’re going to need you for the next mission.”

He doesn’t, instead he follows me in quietly. Erwin stands behind the counter, his maps and strategy s

heets covering every available surface.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask.

“Yes, thank you for coming.” He looks up at Wyatt. “You okay with him being here?”