The Girl Who Punched Back (Death Fields 2)

I look back down at my pack and simply say, “Huh.”

“What?”

I shrug. “I was just curious. And I mean, I guess I’m a little thankful, because she’s bat-shit, you know. But for future reference, if you need to use that in your favor, you can. She’s into you.”

He frowns. “Into me?”

“Stop being dense.”

I fight with the zipper, struggling to get it closed. There’s a tiny gap that won’t connect and I freeze when I feel Wyatt’s arms circle around me and firmly finish the job. His breath is hot on my neck and I just don’t move. Not an inch.

Softly, in my ear he says, “I’m well aware of Jane’s feelings for me. She’s not the Ramsey sister I have a hard time getting a read on.”

Oh.

“You’re right. I could have been given a worse assignment than a smart, beautiful, kick-ass fighter like you. Someone who challenges my thoughts and values. Hard-wired values I’d never thought would waver, even at the end of the world.”

I wrap a shaky hand around the strap of my bag and try to squelch the feeling in my stomach and chest. His words come as a shock. A confusing, mind-bending shock. I feel his fingers on my neck, and he brushes the hair to the side, exposing the skin. I wait and he says, “You’re stronger than you realize, Alex. You can beat Jane and her army. Don’t forget that. You know her better than anyone.”

I struggle for a reply but his heat is gone and when I turn, he’s left the room, door wide and empty.

I sit on the bed, sinking into the mattress and mutter, “What the heck was that?”

Chapter 23

When I step into Paul’s room he still looks pale, with dark smudges under his eyes, but he’s clean. When I spot the familiar black backpack with the red patch below the zipper, I know he’s ready.

“How crazy is all this?” I say, eyes lingering on his face. We’d bonded early in the crisis. He knew my mom—the mom she turned into after we went on the road. No one else shared that with me. Just him.

“What? The bunker? Running away from a hybrid Eater-human army in the middle of the night? All of it?” he asks, folding a shirt into a tight square and shoving it into the depths of his bag.

“Finding each other again.”

“Oh, that.” He graces me with a quick grin. “I consider that one a miracle.”

A miracle? As hard as it was to accept, it had a nice ring to it. “You ready to break out of this joint?”

“I’ve been ready to get away from these people since I left you in that truck cab.” He runs his hands over his black hair. “Huge mistake. I don’t plan on doing that again.”

“Let me know if you’re struggling, okay? We want to all get out of here. Everyone.”

“Do you think that’s possible?” he asks.

I watch as he slides his arms into his backpack, looking small under the weight. “Didn’t you tell me you knew how to hunt?”

“Yep, I’m the country-Korean guy,” he says, and I can’t help but smile. It’s one of the first thing he told me and my mom.

“If everything goes according to plan, we’ll settle up in the mountains and you can hunt for dinner every night. I’ll cook.”

His forehead furrows. “You can cook?”

“Okay, you cook. Cole is good with the cross-bow. He can cook.”

His eyes glint with interest when I say Cole’s name. “So he’ll be coming.”

I nod. “And his sister.”

“Anyone else? That guy, Wyatt, maybe?” He says it in a quiet, curious voice.