The Girl Who Kicked Ass (Death Fields 3)

“Why don’t you kill her? Can’t you stop her?”

She looks at me like I’ve slapped her. “You don’t think I’ve tried? Why do you think I’ve allowed your little Resistance to continue?”

We stare at one another and I can tell from her expression there’s no other way. She holds up a metal case. “I have everything I need in here. Back-up files. A small supply of vaccines. I’m not giving up on what I’ve built, but I can’t fight them from here.”

“This is crazy—even for you.”

She shrugs. “By daybreak tomorrow I expect they’ll have full control, and if I’m still in the building they’ll kill me. Same with you.”

“So you’re taking me with you?”

“If you’re willing to go.”

“And if I don’t?”

Her face softens and she takes my hand. “I know you have friends out there—it’s the one thing you always did better than me. You connect with people. You have genuine relationships. It’s one of the reasons I picked Chloe in the first place. I knew she was your friend and I thought it may help you come around to seeing that this wasn’t such a bad idea.”

“It was an awful idea.”

“I didn’t know that then!” She inhales and recomposes herself. “The best thing you can do for your friends is help me stop this. They would tell you the same thing. Not one of them would want you to sacrifice yourself and the future of mankind in an attempt to save them. Not even Dad.”

“I’ll think about it,” I tell her. “Give me a couple of hours.”

She zips up the bag and nods. “That’s all you’ve got.”

*

Jane makes a call and I return to the hallway. The same guard arrives and I brace myself for the ride, clutching my stomach as the elevator zips to the basement. I search the guard’s face for any signal that she’s aware of what’s about to happen at the Fort, but she’s a blank slate. In another life I may have warned her. I don’t think I’m that girl anymore.

Nothing has changed on my isolated cellblock and from th

e limited details given to me by Jane, I think I’m the only one here. Actual criminals are sent to the Hybrid programs. I step into my room and sit on the bed. The guard closes and bolts the door, leaving me in the dark.

A movement in the corner catches my eye and I jump to my feet, slipping the knife I stole upstairs into my palm. I hold it next to my leg and squint. “Who’s there?

“It’s me,” Cole replies, stepping into the minimal light. He’s dressed in black, his hair clean and combed. He looks taller. Different.

I exhale with relief and drop the knife on the mattress. “You’re alive,” I whisper-cry, moving for him. Without hesitation I run my hands up his arms, across his chest and touch his face. He’s solid as a rock. My rock.

“I heard you were brought in after pulling some stunt out at the front gate,” he says. “It took me days to figure out where they were holding you.”

“It wasn’t a stunt,” I say. “I surrendered.”

“Why in the world would you do that?”

“To get inside.” I glance around the bare room. “The hidden cell is Jane’s idea, I guess. I’ve been down here catching up on my sleep.”

“There are worse things.” He touches my cheek.

“Tell me what happened,” I say, trying to connect with his blue eyes in the faint light. The eyes that provide me with sanity when the whole world is going to hell. It’s too dark and I don’t like not seeing his face.

“I’m sure you can guess. Chloe and I were fighting when the Center came down. I thought I had her and if it had just been the two of us maybe, I could have held onto her.”

“But the Hybrids showed up. I saw them just before we went below.”

“Yep. They steamrolled me. I had no chance. One of them knocked me out and the next thing I know I’m back here with a nasty concussion and a broken arm.”

I frown, feeling his arms again, but there’s no split or cast. His biceps are hard with muscle. “You seem okay now.”