The Girl Who Broke Free (Death Fields 5)

“Any update?” I ask once he’s past the door. Trying to keep off his super radar, I haven’t asked many questions at all since I’ve been here, but seeing my family ignites my curiosity.

“Erwin’s going to be ready to move on the headquarters soon.”

I haven’t met with Erwin since we got back. I haven’t decided if I’m going to. My plans don’t involve the rest of the army.

“How do you feel about that?” I ask.

“Erwin has a plan, a good one. I don’t think Chloe will be a problem much longer.”

“And the Hybrids?”

“Full elimination.”

He looks dead serious when he says it, but I’ve heard this proclamation before and I’ve lost faith in the rebellion.

“What’s the timeline? I should probably actually get out of bed before we go on a kamikaze mission.” To prove my point, I walk across the room to the small kitchen and grab a jar of preserves. It, along with some other food, came in a basket from Erwin the day after my meltdown. I dip my finger in the jar of sticky peaches. I lick the syrup with my tongue. Wyatt watches every move.

“We still have men inside her headquarters. They’ll give us the signal but I don’t expect it to be long. I think our attack last week took them by surprise and we’ll have to move before she can recover.”

Wyatt told me Erwin’s entire army transformed into Mutts and a handful integrated into Chloe’s army. It was a risky move and I try to figure out if any of Erwin’s men were my guards. None showed me an ounce of compassion.

“And Cole?” I look at the counter top when I ask. “Where is he?”

“Paul is taking care of Cole.”

I meet his eyes. “That’s a good idea?”

He shrugs. “It’s the only idea.”

I start to argue but he cuts me off. “Paul’s not the same kid we found in that school, Alex. He’s different. A lot of things are different around here. If anyone can figure out what to do with Cole, it’s Paul. He’s good with the Mutts.”

His casual talk of Hybrids and Mutts and the complete decline of society bothers me. It more than bothers me. I feel lost, like that time in Chloe’s cell not only disconnected me from my family and friends but from the current state of the rebellion. This sets me on edge and I slam the jar in the sink. It cracks, shattering in pieces, one slicing my finger.

“Shit.” I grab a cloth. Wyatt rushes over.

“Let me see?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.” He looks at the mess in the sink and back at my face, searching my eyes.

“You know, I’ve been cooped up too long. I think I need some air.”

“Now? Bleeding? Let me get the first aid kit.”

“No.” I spin, holding my finger with my other hand applying pressure. “I just…I need a minute, okay?”

Wyatt grabs my arm as I head to the closet and in a low voice says. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t just sit here, Wyatt, you know that.”

“There’s nothing to do.”

“There’s always something to do.” I find a pair of pants close to my size in the closet and a couple of T-shirts. I pull on a gray one and slip the pants over my legs, rolling them over at the waist. I shove my feet into the shoes Chloe gave me for training, without untying the laces. Wyatt grabs for me but I yank away, my well-placed façade slipping. “I have been through a lot. More than you’ll understand and I’m sure you can say the same to me. But sitting back isn’t how I deal with life. It hasn’t been since this shit-show apocalypse started.”

He groans, rubbing his hands through his hair. I know he feels the same. We’re do-ers. Survivors. Fighters. The end.

He levels a hard look at me. “And what exactly do you plan to do?”