The Girl Who Punched Back (Death Fields 2)

He leans forward and tells Cole to give an assist. Still glazed over, he jumps in to give me step by step instructions since I can’t see. Slowly, I move the knife back and forth against the plastic binds.

“Jesus, how many people does it take to cut a zip-tie, right?” I joke, trying to keep focused on my task and not on the battle just outside my view. The plastic gives way and Wyatt rips his hands apart. He snatches the blade from me, releasing me and Cole both in a blink.

Wyatt’s eyes are wild and searching. He stops at the sloping metal railing on the back steps. In a quick move he kicks the metal until it bends and snaps, scattering pieces on the ground. He tosses a length to each of us.

Cole snatches his and runs to the edge of the building, pipe ready.

“We need to get out of here,” he says.

“No shit,” I reply. I’m still hurt and confused by Wyatt’s actions when we escaped. I pause and say, “Whose side are you on, Wyatt?” He glances at me and I can already tell he’s going to dismiss me, but I grab him by the shirt. “Answer me.”

Something flickers in his eyes, pain maybe, but I don’t release my grip. His hand moves to my chin and he says, “Six months ago I would have said I don’t take sides.”

“And now?” The howls become louder—closer. He looks in the direction of the Eaters.

“Now I just want to stay alive and keep you alive so I can answer that more definitively.”

I clench my fingers in his shirt, feeling my heart buzz in my chest. I want to say something in return—do something—but Cole rushes over and shouts, “The gate is swarmed!”

Wyatt quickly drops his fingers from my chin.

“What about everyone else?” I ask, dragging my gaze from Wyatt.

“I can’t see anyone out there. It’s too crazy.”

“You two need to find a way to the other side of the fence—then run like hell. Find shelter,” Wyatt says.

“And what are you going to do?” I ask, but he’s already in action, slipping around the corner toward the fray.

I don’t like it. I don’t like anything about it, but I link my fingers with Cole’s and tug him away from Wyatt. Away from the fighting.

Or, at least, that’s what I try to do.

Instead, we run around the other side of the dark building just in time to see the fence fall and a massive swarm of Eaters pour across the muddy field.

Chapter 27

I grip the inadequate steel bar between my slick, damp fingers and race to the fence. It’s stupid. Suicidal, even. But we have little choice.

“Do not leave my side,” I bark at Cole. I can’t lose him, too.

“I won’t. I promise.”

Him, I believe.

The Hybrids are gone, other than the dead bodies scattered here and there on the ground, most surrounded by the infected looking to s

pread their disease. An Eater rushes toward me, clothes tattered and dirty, limping on one leg. I move fast, cramming the bar through its neck, severing the spine. It falls in a slump to the ground.

I yank the bar back out with a slurping sound and try not to gag.

“I need a better weapon,” I say to no one in particular.

Cole grunts, bashing an Eater in the face until its head caves in the center. Dark blood pours out to the ground. The bar breaks in two.

He wipes his forehead and drops the broken pieces on the ground.

“Come on,” he says, gesturing toward the remains of a Hybrid. Before we reach the body, two Eaters charge, racing with trademark rage and hunger. Cole dives across the slick ground, sliding across the muddy grass. In the dim light I see the glint of metal just out of fingers’ reach. It’s a gun.