The Girl Who Punched Back (Death Fields 2)

“Working on the vaccine is more important. She and I both agree with this.” He squeezes my hand. “We also think it’s important to stick together outside of the fort.”

I can’t help but wonder if, like Chloe, he’s worried about me and Wyatt being in the field together, but he tugs me so my body is pressed tight against his and I realize I don’t care. I’m happy he’s coming with me, and smile gratefully at him being so close and his news. He graces me with one, too.

Chapter 10

Two days later I’m leading the training group around the track when an imposing Fighter appears in the doorway. Seeing a quick jerk of his head, I peel to the side and jog over.

“What’s up?”

“You’ve been requested in room 213 at three pm. Make sure you’re on time.”

“For what?”

He stares at me but doesn’t reply. I fight an annoyed sigh.

I leave Davis with the class and take a quick shower before changing into my assigned black cargo pants, T-shirt, and boots. I glance at the backpack I’d carried from Raleigh hanging over the sole chair in the room. A nagging feeling tugs at my gut and I grab it, checking quickly for my few personal belongings I’d never unpacked. It’s sentimental stuff; photos of my best friend Eliza and another of the family. The map I carried from our home in Raleigh all the way down here. I swallow the lump in my throat at the last item, the wedding ring my mother gave me. I should probably give it to my father but I can’t bring myself to do it.

With a quick look around the room, I zip up my bag. I hate being paranoid but ever since I got here I’ve the distinct feeling I wouldn’t stay long.

I pause outside Cole’s room and try the handle. A quick glance inside proves he’s not here and the clean lines of his bed linens suggest he hasn’t been up recently. I’d only seen him once, two days ago, since we parted from our little make-out session in the storage closet. He’d stumbled bleary-eyed into his room across the hall, mumbling that we’d talk in the morning. When I’d checked, he’d already left.

Not that I’d had a lot of free time either. Wyatt has us in intense weapon training. The walls surrounding the sparring ring revealed hidden caches of PharmaCorp-developed weapons. Pipes like the one Hayes used in his fight. There were others—scary-looking guns and bayonets. Grenades and other hand-held explosives. We were ready for war.

I’d wanted to share all of this with Cole, to let him know that Walker and Wyatt were leading us on a serious mission, but our schedules didn’t fit. I had to hope they’d prepared him and the other scientists coming with us.

The hallways are quiet and empty as I walk down to the meeting room, although Wyatt waits in the doorway, clipboard in hand. He scribbles something and gives me a once over when I approach him. “Who tipped you off?” he asks.

“About what? The meeting? Someone invited me.”

“No,” his eyes dart to my pack, but he clamps his mouth shut. I roll my eyes. I’m tired of all the super-secret stuff going on. I’m either in or out. Right now it’s clear that even though they’re letting me in the room, I’m still on the outs as far as hierarchy goes.

The recruits are all here, as well as a small group of Fighters. The only difference is the patches on our arms. The veterans have the standard FF patch on the arm, but others have the “doctor” symbol of two twisted snakes with wings. My arm, along with the other new recruits, is noticeably patchless and bare.

I push past Wyatt, spotting Davis, and move to the empty seat next to his. Glancing around I recognize the nurse from the intake room, the one that flirts with Wyatt. Perfect.

I assess the rest of the room; two other people looking slightly uncomfortable in their fatigues are familiar from down in my father’s lab. The quick surge of hope I feel is squelched when I look around for Cole but don’t see him.

Walker steps to the front of the room followed by what has to be a scientist. He’s thin with thick-framed glasses an

d has the tell-tale pale skin of someone who has spent too much time underground. Everyone quiets and Walker speaks. “Each of you have been selected into the leadership command for vaccine distribution. As you know, our goal will be to set up clinics, locate survivors, and establish a protocol for inoculation.”

I’ve promised myself I won’t say anything, not today. My whole mission has been to get on the team and see where this is headed. Luckily Walker is a stickler for details and begins outlining our mission.

“We’ve heavily patrolled and scouted the greater bi-state area for the last several months. During this time, we have locked down several specific facilities to use as a temporary clinics. They are outside of metropolitan areas but can easily be accessed by vehicle or by foot. Our plan is to bring survivors to the clinics in manageable numbers and begin vaccinations.”

“What happens to the survivors once they’re processed? Do they just go back out?” someone in the back asks.

“There will be additional, follow-up procedures that will be administered by members of our team.”

A tough-looking, dark-skinned girl next to me shifts in her seat and asks, “And we’ll be implementing all of this? Do we actually have enough vaccine for that many people? It could be thousands. Tens of thousands.”

Or it could be way, way less.

“As with all jobs within the elite Freedom Fighters squad you will be given orders and you will follow them,” Walker says, her tone sharp. “When we get to the clinics you will be assigned a job. None of this will be pretty. It will most likely be dangerous and we will certainly have a period of trial and error.” She crosses her arms. “Director Ramsey and PharmaCorp scientists have spent countless hours on the vaccine. She has big plans for the survivors of this widespread epidemic. We need to have faith in her ideas and you need to have faith in our mission. Understood?”

The room nods, including the girl that asked the question. I’m reminded of Walker explaining to me that I needed to hand my blood over to Erwin at Fort Shaw because it was my duty to society. She’d been bluffing then, truly on the side of the FF and eventually helped us escape, but I’m well aware of how she can spin any story to fit her narrative at the moment.

Wyatt walks up to the front and looks at his watch before announcing, “I know this is short notice but we’re leaving in thirty-minutes from the first floor garage. You’re uniformed already and if you don’t have a pack, you’ll be given one before we leave. Do not go back to the dormitory.”