The Girl Who Punched Back (Death Fields 2)
Page 52
The General stares at me for a minute and says, “Don’t worry about that one. He can take care of himself.”
I climb upward, the wind shaking the ladder with every step.
Cole notices I’m the last one other than Erwin and his men. He snakes his arms around me and whispers in my ear that Wyatt will be okay. I’ve little choice to believe him. To believe Erwin, although the accusing looks from Jude and Parker don’t make me feel so great.
It’s not until the helicopter starts moving and I’m surrounded by the sprawled bodies of my friends that I allow myself to really breathe. Not because I’m safe. Not because I trust Erwin, but because now we may have the power we need to stop my sister.
Alexandra’s story continues in The Girl Who Kicked Ass, Book 3 of The Death Fields Series. Read below for a sneak peek at the first section of The Girl Who Kicked Ass!
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The Girl Who Kicked Ass
The Death Fields
Book 3
Chapter 1
Schwoop, schwoop, schwoop…
The helicopter blades are hypnotic, lulling my weary bones and exhausted mind to the edge of sleep. My eyelids threaten to close but I force myself to stay awake. I keep my hand on my weapon. I still haven’t decided if we just caught a ride with friend or foe and I won’t let my guard down until I do.
We’re huddled close on the floor—my entire team. Cole sits close with a protective arm wrapped around my waist. To my left, Parker’s dark hair is a tangled mess and she looks like maybe a couple of her braids were yanked form her scalp. The glazed look in her eye makes me think she’s probably more in shock than actually asleep. My boy, Jude, stares straight ahead, too exhausted to even notice the blood seeping through his torn pants. In his hand is the handle of a blood stained knife, ready just in case.
Everyone feels miles away except Davis who’s fully alert like a good soldier. I watch him aware that he’s keeping a careful eye on Paul.
Paul, who’d been on the brink of death days ago. Who’d spent the last half a year as a
lab rat at the hands of my sister Jane and her laboratory/survivalist compound, PharmaCorp. He’s the only one that seems unphased by the battle we’d just escaped. He’d just saved my life fighting harder than anyone I’d ever seen. Other than Wyatt, of course.
Wyatt Faraday who’d said some very curious things just before we parted. Things that made my heartache and my mind bend. He’d said his goal was to keep me alive. Me. Specifically. Maybe he just needed something to fight for, other than himself, for once.
I push back the worry I have for him. When General Erwin dropped out of the sky like a dark angel, Wyatt wasn’t fighting off the Eater’s with the rest of us. God knew where he’d gone off to, if it was on purpose or if he was chum for the monsters we left swarming below the helicopter. Erwin had alluded to the fact he would be fine but how does he know? The General is probably just happy he isn’t here.
For a dozen reasons, some I don’t want to admit to, I am not okay with the fact he’s not here.
I feel a warm tickle on my neck and turn to face Cole. His arm is still wrapped around me, even while he sleeps, like he’s clinging to a lifeline. I snuggle in against his chest and his arms tighten. It’s not us against just Jane anymore. It’s our tiny team vs. Cole’s sister Chloe, who’s transitioned to a Hybrid, a terrifying mixture of the adrenaline fueled Eater combined with the strength and skill of a top-notch soldier. Add in the lack of independent thought and the compulsive, murderous rage and you have a Hybrid, my sister’s answer to the apocalypse.
No, now it’s the six of us against PharmaCorp, the force behind my sister’s biological warfare that created this entire world-wide disaster. She wasn’t content to bring down society and rebuild with normal humans. She had to push her twisted vision on the survivors of the crisis. Each scenario worse than the last. It’s the six of us against Chloe, a former friend who has changed into the leader of a genetically altered army whose goal is to take over existing society.
Against the sound of the beating propeller I lean back into the comfort of Cole’s arms, still keeping an eye on Erwin in the front seat, wondering where we’re going, what will happen when we land and how are we going to fix this crazy world, because running is no longer an option.
*
I barely remember landing, following the soldiers across a wide strip of pavement or being led down the long corridors to the barracks. We’re pointed toward dormitories and file in.
In the dim room, Parker does ask in a quiet shell-shocked voice, “Are you sure this is safe?” and I recall telling her that we’re fine and to go to sleep. What I don’t tell her, as I drift off with my cheek on a scratchy blanket, is that I have no idea what Erwin wants us for. I do have a couple guesses.
I wake with a pounding headache and expectations of finding the door locked but to my surprise it isn’t. There are clean towels on the small metal desk against the wall and clean clothes stacked on the chair. Parker is already awake and other than the missing clump of hair, looking much better than the night before. “I peeked down the hallway. There’s a functional shower and bathroom at the end.”
I look down at my hands coated in blood, dirt and grime. My pants have a tear in the thigh and I don’t have to raise my arm to know how absolutely horrific I smell. “I don’t even care if the water is cold.”
We shower quick and quietly. I can’t be sure we’re not being watched, and my sense of paranoia rises when I step out of the stall to find two sets of boots waiting by the bench by the camouflaged uniforms.
I sigh at the green and gray material.