The Girl Who Kicked Ass (Death Fields 3)

“Oh yeah, that traitor thing.” He rubs the beard growing thick on his chin. “I forgot about that.”

A shout from the porch catches our attention but it’s just Devin talking to his brother and sister. If I’m reading the scene right, they’re in the middle of reenacting the Eater inferno from two days before. “Thanks for taking care of them,” I say. “We can’t leave them out here.”

“You sure? They’ve done an okay job so far.” But I know he’s joking and that in the last twenty-four hours he’d developed a soft spot for them. Particularly Garrett, the youngest boy.

We stand by the car. I don’t know about him, but I feel awkward. We’ve parted before but never like this. It’s always been in the heat of the battle and usually he just vanishes. We made a deal a long time ago to stick together. It was the right deal for us to make when we made it. It kept us both alive, but time and circumstances have changed us.

“You’ll stick with Erwin?” I ask, because I want to know where he’ll be if I make it out of the Fort alive.

“For a while at least. Now that my ties with Jane are severed it’s probably the best place for me.” His eyes bore into mine but it’s not the time or place to open lingering questions. “Don’t be afraid to use everything you’ve got, hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you.” I look up into his clear hazel eyes. “Good luck, Wyatt.”

I side step him to get in the front seat but he cuts me off, slipping an arm around my waist. He pulls me close and I’m engulfed in the heat of his chest—the warmth of his arms around my back. He doesn’t smell good but it’s not awful. It’s familiar. It’s the smell of the body that fought with me. Killed for me. Kept the monsters at bay. I clench my arms around him and squeeze tight.

“Go,” he says, releasing me. He nearly shoves me in the car and refuses to make further eye contact. I get inside and he shuts the door, stepping back to the sidewalk.

It’s not until he’s out of sight that I say a quick prayer of hope that I may see him again.

Chapter 23

For once, I don’t hit a snag.

The gate stands tall before me and the fence stretches across the highway through the tree line, as far as I can see. It’s built from trucks and cars and antiquated school buses that make me think of the three kids I just left behind.

The structure towers over me as I turn off the car as directed by the Fighter standing guard. His gun glints in the daylight and before he can offer me whatever standard greeting they’ve been told to give, I inform him, “My name is Alexandra Ramsey. I’m here to see my sister.”

He blinks once and starts shouting, “Get on the ground! Face down! Don’t make a move!” I follow orders but he shoves me to the ground anyway. My cheek grates against the pavement and his boot presses against my back. I’m frisked for weapons that I explain to him are in the car. Additional Fighters pour out of the gate searching for my back-up, guns raised, fingers on the trigger. They’re expecting a battle, but soon enough they’ll realize it’s just me.

A crow flies overhead followed by a pair of hawks, all witness to my fate. I’m lifted from the ground by my neck, my car and belongings confiscated. The gates slowly open and I’m pushed inside.

In five minutes and without firing a shot, I go from Wanted to Captured.

*

Handcuffed and chained, I’m shoved into the backseat of a Jeep and driven to the main entrance of The Fort. We pass through miles of cleared areas and I’m stunned with the improvements Jane has made in such a short period of time. The city streets are clean. Civilians walk up and down the sidewalks with purpose. I spot a functioning school and more than one church has its front doors open.

“You guys have been working hard,” I say to the stone-faced Fighter. He doesn’t bother with a reply.

We pass through a second but smaller fence line, and the Fighters working the gate stare at me as we pass. The best way to describe it is it’s as though they’re gawking at me like I’m a celebrity. I hold up my bound hands and wave.

A few minutes later the Jeep approaches the more familiar barricade surrounding PharmaCorp. It’s been improved. Less makeshift. More grand. It’s fitting that my sister’s Fortress would require something more lavish. For the first time, I acknowledge the foolishness of my plan. My sister, The Director, views herself as the Queen of this mighty fortress. Her ego must be nearly impenetrable.

The vehicle lurches to a stop and we’re surrounded by Fighters. They jerk me from the back, flanking me from all sides. “You guys are significantly overestimating my skills,” I joke. I’m weaponless and restrained.

AKA: Screwed.

We go through a small door built into the fence and I’m ushered directly into quarantine. Female guards watch as I strip down to my Erwin-issued gray underpants and tank and my clothes are tossed in the burn bin. I step behind the curtain and wait for the nurse.

“Alex?”

“Amber?” I see the familiar blonde that I met months ago when I first came to PharmaCorp. She was stationed at the Vaccine Center with us before our escape. To be honest, I’m a little surprised she’s still alive. “What are you doing here?”

“I got transferred back a few weeks ago.” She eyes me carefully. “I heard they were looking for you.”

“Not anymore.”

She starts her evaluation, but we both know I’m fine. Before she sends me to the shower she whispers. “I heard about the Center. We’re not supposed to know but we had a huge number of injured personnel come through about a week ago. If you see Wyatt, thank him for me.”