The Girl Who Kissed the Sun (Death Fields 4)

“I don’t think it’s true, but Cole and Chloe may buy into the theory.”

Finn walks back inside, the two men trailing her. Wyatt scrapes the soles of his boots on the threshold. Jane brings them up to speed, explaining that the Hybrids are closer than we expected but that Avi has at least given us an advance warning.

“So you need to get back to the t

own and we,” Wyatt looks at me, “need to divert the Hybrids.” He’s already three steps ahead of the rest of the room.

“Yep.” I nod.

“That’s a crap plan,” Benjamin says, not realizing my role until Wyatt says it.

“You said it yourself. Cole and Chloe used Wyatt to get to me. Let’s give them what they want and buy Jane a little time.”

“It’s a stupid plan. There’s no way it will work,” Benjamin declares.

Jude crosses his arms over his chest, his jaw tense. He shoots Benjamin a glare. “Dude, we’ve had so many dumb ideas I can’t even count them on one hand. But these two,” he points at me and Wyatt. “they’ve made more work than you can imagine. Don’t underestimate them.”

“When do we leave?” Jane asks, before the tide changes.

“In an hour.” Wyatt looks at me. “Will you be ready?”

I gesture to my bag. His is right next to it. He taught me well. “Whenever you are.”

Chapter 23

With bad news hovering over us like a storm cloud, Mary Ellen, in her quite voice, declares that we have a feast—celebrating Avi’s arrival and our last night together. By ’celebration’, she means eating the pack of stale crackers she found in a tin box in the pantry, three cans of tuna and the carrots Finn discovered in the back yard garden. Avi adds the pack of jerky and two cans of preserved okra he brought to trade with the Mennonites.

“I also found this,” Jude cries, holding up an unmarked bottle. The pinkish liquid swishes around.

Finn takes it from him and screws open the lid. He sniffs and says, “Muscadine Wine.”

We crowd candles on the table and spread out our feast. Jude takes a swig of the wine, two crackers, and some jerky before saying, “I’ll go back out with Wyatt.”

“He won’t come in?” Jane asks.

I shake my head. “Too paranoid.”

“Instinct,” Jane tells me. “Wyatt has a heightened sense. It’s one of the reasons I chose him—” She lets that comment trail into the void. No one wants to discuss her experiments tonight.

“Avi,” I say. “Tell us what’s happening in Catlettsburg. Anything interesting?”

No, he should have said, but didn’t, instead regaling us with not-thrilling stories of canning and a recent bake-off using roots to make flour. You know, instead of flour to make flour. The winner was Mrs. Banks with a delicious pie crust.

Jane and I catch eyes and laugh—sharing an unexpected sister moment. She holds up her glass up in a toast. I return the gesture and swallow.

“Oh god,” I sputter. The wine is sweet, almost syrupy, but the alcohol content is not something I’m used to.

“You okay?” Mary Ellen asks.

“Yeah. That stuff is just…wow.” My head swims and I head to the kitchen for a little air.

I stand over the sink, trying to decide if everything I just consumed is going to try to come back up again. Laughter rings from the other room and I can’t help but smile. Even in this shitty world, I’ve found my tribe.

After a second, my stomach seems to settle and I turn, leaning my back against the counter.

“Hey.” I look up. Wyatt stands in the back door, shoulder leaning against the wood frame. He’s chewing on a piece of jerky.

“Hi.”