The Girl Who Kissed the Sun (Death Fields 4)

On his knees rest dirty hands, knuckles covered in scabs. His pants are torn, shredded at the cuff. Chains bolted to the floor loop around his ankles, and another set bind his wrists to the bench. A dark black cap covers his head, which is all I can see because his face is down.

“You must have done something pretty awful because they gave you extra chains. And Chloe hates me. Like really, really hates me.” My voice is weird—hysterical. If I don’t joke, I’ll break down. If I break down, there’s no getting back up.

He makes a sound. A laugh. It’s low and creepy, building in his chest. He leans his head back against the van wall and I get a peek of his bloody, ruined face.

“You’re right about that.” He stifles his giggles, turning his hard blue eyes on me. My blood runs cold. “She freaking hates you.”

“Cole?” I ask, because I honestly don’t recognize him. Not a thing. Not the sharp, emaciated angles of his face. Not the matted hair stuck to his forehead. Not the unhinged sound of his voice.

He leans toward me, held back by the chains but able to get closer than I’d like. “You should have kept running, Alexandra. Far, far away. Not simply playing house up here while you waited for your lover to come back.”

The eerie feeling washes over me that they’ve known our location for some time. Maybe they’ve just been waiting out the snow like the rest of us. Waiting for Wyatt to return to take us all out in one final blow.

In the shadowy van I try to make out his features. The face I once held and kissed. There’s nothing. I hear the disbelief in my voice when I ask, “What has she done to you?”

“What she did to me?” Again he offers that maniacal smile. “This is what you did to me. What I sacrificed for you. I’m the example of what happens when you go against her will. She’ll destroy all your friends, Alex. She’ll destroy everything good and kind and human unless you do what she says.”

“Why doesn’t she just kill me?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asks, his gaze suddenly coherent.

The van rattles down the road, getting further and further from the farmhouse. My friends and family are splinted—if not gone for good. The weights are heavy, dragging me down. My ankle throbs and I fight the sob that clings to the back of my throat. It’s not just that I’ve been captured. It’s that every battle over the last year was for nothing. Every soldier lost, every Eater killed. The miles trekked were for nothing. The bonds forged were pointless. We should’ve died with the first victims of the virus, because all we’ve done to save humanity has made it worse.

We failed in our mission and now the survivors must accept the bitter pill of a bleak and futile future.

Alexandra’s story continues in thrilling next installment, The Girl Who Broke Free, Book 5 of The Death Fields Series. Read below for a sneak pe

ek at the first section of The Girl Who Broke Free.

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The Girl Who Broke Free

Book 5

There are no weapons in the room. No zippers or loose strings attached to our clothing. Nothing that can be fashioned into something lethal. It’s hand to hand combat and by the end of the hour I’ll be sore enough that I’m happy to have nothing to do but crawl into bed.

“Good afternoon, Alexandra,” Cole says. The disturbed glint in his eyes hasn’t left since I was tossed in the van with him months ago. I don’t know if it’s the Hybrid juice running through his veins or the fact his sister’s desperate attempts to break him have succeeded.

“Let’s get this over with,” I reply. I learned when we started this ridiculous game that engaging him in conversation was useless.

I step to the line in the middle of the room and although he hesitates for a brief second he does the same. He prefers to start with a little chit-chat, baiting me into a rage so I’ll lose focus. Not today, I ignore his dark eyes and the way they drift toward the rib injury I’m nursing from our last session. I remember when they were blue and a familiar wave of loneliness washes over me. I shake it off because that kind of thinking will only give him the upper hand.

We’re toe to toe and my eyes linger on his massive biceps. Did they get bigger over night? His muscles aren’t the only advantage he has over me. He’s stronger and faster, everything enhanced by the Hybrid vaccine.

Me?

I’m not that big but I’m not a weakling. My brain isn’t filled with adrenaline induced hate and due to my training last winter with Jackson I’m a smart fighter with quick reflexes. It isn’t a fair fight by any means but day after day I enter the ring with the idea I can win. I just have to figure out his weakness.

Does it hurt to have to fight the man I once cared for every day?

Yes.

Am I letting it break me down like my enemies want?

Hell no.