Liberated Read online

  The creaking of a closet door draws my attention. Zeus growls behind me. I peek at the door, noting the darkness under it. Good. Hopefully that means it’s empty too. I slowly move toward it. So far, so good. My hand reaches the knob and begins sliding the door open an inch at a time. Before I know what’s happening, a woman screams and kicks me so hard in the stomach that I fall backward. My gun lands somewhere in the junk.

  She’s on top of me, landing punches, and I try to block her, throwing my arms up to cover my head. She bares her teeth like some feral animal, and her fingernails rip across me. My forearms burn where she slashes.

  A flash of tan fur leaps over me. Zeus growls as he plows her off balance. He whips his neck back and forth, holding a wad of the woman’s t-shirt. It tears from his mouth, and she scoots away, her eyes wide with horror. She jumps to her feet and turns to run, but she slams right into Cole. Her mouth opens in surprise, but nothing comes out. Cole has one hand on her shoulder, but when he steps away, his knife glistens.

  He pulls it from her body, allowing her to crumple in place. She wretches and coughs up blood. Zeus stands over her, a part of her t-shirt still dangling from his mouth.

  “I had no other choice … she was a risk we couldn’t take,” Cole says with regret. He doesn’t look at me as he wipes his knife on his pant leg and exhales a shaky breath.

  I crawl around on my knees to find my gun, then go to the woman’s side. Immediately, I notice the dark, black ring on her arm. In the middle is a small, reddened scab. My stomach sinks to the floor. “She’s been injected. Get away from the blood, and sanitize your knife with Bill’s alcohol.” I check her pulse … nothing.

  Cole slides down the doorframe to the floor, his look full of hopelessness.

  “Cole, it’s all right.” But my words must not sound convincing, because his jaw only locks into place, his face unchanged. I rock back on my heels, moving away from the body. I know what he’s thinking, because I feel the same way. I walk into the corner of the room and dry-heave.

  Every time I am forced to take a life, I lose a piece of myself. Each time I lose someone to the virus, I feel more and more helpless to stop it. Their faces pop up in my dreams; every moment is clouded with their memories. It’s like living with ghosts.

  Yet, I’m still here. And so is he.

  “Well, what happened?” Bill asks in a whisper from the doorway. He takes in the dead woman, and his shoulders go slack. He pushes Owen’s peering face behind him. “Oh. God rest her soul.”

  “What if someone heard her?” I ask.

  “Bill, mind if I borrow your drink?” Cole asks. Bill looks scrunches his forehead in confusion. “Not to drink, ass, to clean my knife,” he explains. “She was infected.”

  “Only a tiny, tiny bit,” he says. “Tiny.”“Yeah, tiny. I get it.”

  After Cole cleans up, he moves to the window, already taking up position. If he still feels remorse, he covers it with a wall of steel. Bill finds a tattered blanket to cover the body with before summoning Owen into the room with us. Owen warily steps past it, snuggling up against Zeus near the windows. Suddenly, Cole’s cheek twitches, and he straightens.

  “Whatcha got?” Bill asks, moving toward him.

  “What the hell is all that?” Cole asks.

  I move to get a look through the other window. Inside the parking garage, guards are taking turns loading wooden boxes into the backs of the trucks. One after the other, they bring them, like worker ants. The tinkling of glass is loud enough to hear from here as they stack the boxes. Something itches at the back of my mind, but I can’t put my finger on it.

  “Not weapons,” I say grimly. “The boxes aren’t big enough.”

  “Then what?” Cole asks.

  “Well, it’s definitely not the same stuff I rode in with,” Bill says, smirking. “I know that’s not helpful, but I’d say it’s time for a little sneak attack.” He’s rubbing his hands together like the little dare devil he is.

  Using gloves, the guards carefully stack the boxes in neat rows until the backs of the trucks are full. Then they close the heavy doors, pull a heavy metal latch across each truck, and slam it into place. The trucks sit noticeably lower on their tires, just like Bill pointed out. After a guard notifies the driver of the first truck, the engines rev to life, echoing out of the parking garage.

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” Bill asks.

  “Oh, Lord, this ought to be good,” I say.

  “Game time,” Bill says. “I wonder what’s behind door number one.”

  “For once, I agree with you,” Cole says. “We need answers and if we’re going to do this, we go now.” He sees my hesitation and puts a hand on my arm. His touch radiates through me, and I can’t help meeting his gaze.

  “There’s only four of us, and Zeus,” I say. “What if—”

  “Don’t worry. We got this.” I sure hope so. “It’s an opportunity we can’t let slip by.”

  Outside, the trucks pull forward. Without another word, we take off down the stairs, bounding down them three at a time. Once we reach the bottom, we perch in the doorway, waiting for the trucks to clear the checkpoint. They move slowly, like they’re afraid of breaking whatever they’re hauling. It buys us time.

  “There’s no way they’ll go the way they came in,” Bill says. “Too risky, even for them.”

  “So we catch them heading toward the other gate,” Cole says. He eyes the trucks idling at the checkpoint. “Move fast.”

  Before I can get a word in, we’re huffing it through back alleys and streets, circling the hospital to get back near the main entrance. All the way, I’m silently praying we don’t encounter any tanks this time. There’s no room or time for error here. Not only are we risking our lives, we risk getting caught before ever following through on the plans with Genesis and Bruno. If they’re still alive.

  I wipe my forehead, noting the cooler temperature. For once, sweat’s not pouring into my eyes. The sun hangs just over the horizon, low and orange and burning. The dying rays occasionally blind me as we navigate through the obstacles of the Hole. I know we’re close, because I begin recognizing the streets and alleys near the entrance. We’ve made a half circle in half the time, even with Owen.

  Cole leads us down another alley, and I take the time to pull out my small water bottle. I pour some into Zeus’s mouth, and he laps at it, only getting half of it. Then he waits for the next command like a good pup.

  “Who’s there?” a voice asks from the shadows. I drop my bottle and ready my gun, pointing it at the tall figure in the alley. “Don’t shoot.” The man’s hands go up in the air as he leaves the shadows and enters into our view.

  “Stay right there,” Cole orders.

  “What’s happening?” the stranger asks. “A lot of movement going on today.”

  “Leave,” Cole replies. “You’re not safe out here.”

  The man steps forward, defying Cole’s orders, his lean figure and orange brand making me feel pity toward him. His tattered shirt hangs off his thin frame; his arms are long and bony. He adjusts his pants with shaking hands.

  “You’re not guards,” he says with raised eyebrows.

  “No,” Bill says. “Don’t insult our looks.” The man’s stare gravitates toward Crazy Bill, and then he smiles, his shoulders relaxing.

  “Bill?” he laughs quietly. “You’re alive.”

  “No shit.” As he pushes Owen behind him, Bill’s smile makes me cringe, but I don’t know why exactly. Either he’s happy to see this guy, or he’s about to get loud.

  Bill slaps the man on the shoulder, and the man pulls him in for a hug. As Bill begins a story, Cole hisses at them to be quiet. That’s never stopped Bill before. I throw a small stone at him and turn my attention back to where the trucks should be, wondering where they are. Cole shakes his head, annoyed, and turns, his shoulder brushing mine.

  “Did we miss them?” I whisper.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Just then, a blari
ng, squealing noise rips through the silence, and Zeus howls in response. My face scrunches up involuntarily, and I shrink back from the output. Bill and his friend fall silent and freeze. I’m tempted to cover my ears, but instead, I wrap my arms around Owen, whose face is full of panic. A short musical intro plays, but we all sense something bigger coming. Cole’s hand moves to my arm, pulling Owen and me closer to him.

  “Attention, Sinners!” the dreaded high-pitched voice blasts around us. My body burns with fire, and Cole’s fingers tighten around me. “This is your Commander, Wilson.”

  We are well aware of who you are, I think, suddenly aware that I’m shaking.

  “My birthday is, as you are no doubt aware, coming up,” Wilson continues with his dramatic flair, “so I’m feeling rather joyful. For that reason, I’ve decided to announce the good news today.” He clears his throat, making time. “Starting immediately, vaccinations will no longer be administered. And, why is that, you may wonder? Well, I’m thrilled to announce that the virus that has been taking so many lives now has a cure.”

  Bill’s jaw drops open, but Cole doesn’t flinch.

  “You are free to roam the Hole,” Wilson says cheerfully. “However, I am still demanding your assistance.” He pauses, and I dig my fingers into Cole’s arm. He lets me. “My lovely Lexi Hamilton and her friends are trying to stop the distribution of the cure. In fact, I’ve been informed she wants the virus to wipe out the Hole. Of course, we can’t let her succeed. With your help, we’re going to capture her and see that she gets the punishment she so greatly deserves. Deliver Lexi to me alive, Sinners, and I will grant your release.”

  The announcement cuts to boring elevator music seconds before slamming off.

  My muscles go weak. Liar. He’s nothing but a liar. The vaccinations caused the sickness in the first place! I clench my hands, which have begun to sweat. Cole’s hand grips me tighter, and I lift my face to his.

  “Lexi, the Sinners ought to know he’s bullshitting.” His dark eyes dig into mine like he can read everything going through my head.

  Gulping, I try to gather my thoughts. “Here’s to hoping you’re right. With everyone on the lookout for me, it’s only a matter of time before I’m caught”

  “No. No. No. Listen to me.” Cole cups my face between his hands. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

  “Okay,” I say. “I trust you.”

  He brushes his thumbs across my cheeks. “I love you. And I’m not going to lose you.”

  Closing my eyes, I nod and allow my lungs to release my tense breath … but only for a second, because Cole moves his hands away from me. Worry flashes over his face as he watches me. He can say he’ll protect me as much as he wants, but we both know that anything can happen … just like it did with Grace—and so many others.

  Already, Bill’s friend has disappeared. He must’ve hightailed it during the announcement. Terror briefly streaks through me, causing me to tense. What if he went to get backup and take me to Wilson?

  “Um, Cole, are we still jumping the trucks?” Bill asks as I inhale deeply and rub my arms, trying to release the tension. “Because they’re headed our way.”

  Cole spins around.

  “Now,” Bill adds. “Like, right now.”

  The low, slow rumble reaches my ears, and we quickly prepare ourselves. I refuse to let Wilson’s words rattle me. There’s a reason he’s after me, a reason he’s lying to the Sinners about the virus, and I intend to find out why. But that will have to wait.

  We crouch low as the first truck passes. Unlike the first shipment of weapons, this one has no escort. No guards walk beside it, and no tanks follow it. Interesting choice. Maybe Wilson’s trying to throw us off. Make us think it isn’t important. Fear and excitement gnaw at my bones, but I accept the feeling and use it to help me focus.

  Bending down, I put both hands on Owen’s shoulders. “I need you to trust me,” I tell him. He nods, his eyes growing larger by the second. “Whatever happens, stay here. Hide, and don’t come out. Can you do that for me?” His glances toward the trucks, but I give him a squeeze. “I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

  His shoulders stiffen under my hands, but I can’t reassure him more than that. He breathes out slow and steady, and I drop my hands. He saunters off deeper into the alley, finds a hidden spot, and then gives me a thumbs up.

  “That’s perfect,” I tell him. “Now stay down, and I’ll be back soon.”

  The second truck passes, then the third, the fourth, and once I see the fifth, I’m tensed like a cat ready to pounce. Cole holds up his arm and motions us forward.

  We sprint into the wide-open street, Cole covering me as I hop onto the back of the last truck. At first, it’s quiet but for the thrumming of the engines. I begin to lift the latch, but it jams to a stop. I use one hand to hold on and the other to pull up, but it’s stuck tight.

  Crap!

  That’s when the first bullet zings past me.

  Sinners flood the street, as if they were waiting for us. A brief flashback of the mobs that almost killed me on my first day in the Hole comes rushing back. My hands sweat, making it harder to hold on. The truck hits a pothole, and the whole back end jumps, tossing me into the air momentarily.

  Then I spot him. He runs fast, his arms pumping at his sides, his bare feet thumping on the dirt. The Sinner’s focus is purely on me, his gaze greedy and maniacal. His raggedy apparel flaps in the air as he runs toward me. I stop trying to pry the latch open and whip out my gun. I fire off one warning shot, but the man’s legs keep moving him forward. The outline of his green brand wrapping around his neck and the thickly corded muscles become more defined the closer he gets. I wish the truck would speed up, but it barely moves fast enough to outmaneuver a Sinner on foot.

  One second, two seconds, three seconds. His breaths are ragged, but that doesn’t stop him.

  “Cole!” I scream. But he can barely turn around before being engaged by another Sinner.

  The man squints, and a frightening smirk ignites his face. He must think he has me. The truck revs forward, as if the driver finally looked in his side-view mirror and noticed the mob. Through the door I’m holding on to, the glass tinkles inside the boxes.

  Sinners come out of every alley, building, and crevice to join the mayhem. I still grip the latch, but I can’t focus on getting into the truck with the outbreak around me. Especially my pursuer. I shoot again, this time at the man, but miss. He’s too close. So close that my gun is useless and I shove it away to get a better grip on the truck.

  The man grabs my ankle, and I kick at him. He easily ducks my attempts, his fingers digging into my bones. My throat hurts as I yell for help. I land one kick to his head, but it’s not enough to thwart him. He smiles like a crazed person and pulls harder. I don’t know how he can keep up with the truck. My fingers clench the latch so hard they turn a bloodless white. Too much longer, and I won’t be able to hang on.

  That’s when the guards in the trucks open fire on the Sinners. They must think the Sinners are trying to break into the truck. Bodies begin hitting the street, and their screams mix with the banging of the guns. Blood has already started spilling onto the road. The man lunges for my other leg just as Zeus slams him from behind. The man stumbles onto his face, knocking him out cold.

  Relief hits me—briefly. My fingers ache as I curl one hand and release it, but there’s no time to dwell, because there are many more people rioting. I take the butt of my gun and begin slamming it against the latch. I also try to keep tabs on Cole, who’s holding off as many people as possible while trying to keep up with the trucks. The sun glistens off his face, neck, and arms. He grits his teeth together with exertion.

  Suddenly, two Sinners tackle Cole, and my breath catches. He shoots one and takes the other down with him, rolling in the dust. Their entangled figures become farther and farther away as the truck moves out.

  Just as I’m about to give up hope, Cole jumps up and starts running after me. Our eyes meet
, and I want to scream at him and hug him all at once. With renewed energy, I turn back to the latch.

  “Come on, dammit! Open!” I growl. But deep down, I’m wondering what I’ll do if it actually opens.

  Zeus plows into another Sinner, easily tackling her to the ground. And the guards keep shooting, not knowing we’re back here too. At least we have that going for us.

  The stranger we met in the alley, the one who knew Bill, appears suddenly, but his grin is gone. He carries a long, silver knife that reminds me of something a butcher would use. He runs after the truck, his gaze focused on me. Bill steps in front of him, jerking him to a stop. Moving with the grace of a mountain lion, powerful and confident, he easily disarms his friend, takes his knife and uses on it him, and leaves him lying in his own blood.

  When Bill glances up at me, blood’s smeared across his face, and his eyes reflect regret. I let out a sigh, but Bill gives me a reluctant thumbs up. I shake my head. This is exactly what I thought would happen. Thanks to Wilson, everyone’s out to get us. Their numbers only become more staggering, and soon Bill and Cole are running after me, trying to hop onto the back of the truck as well, because the street is a riot. And I don’t know if we can survive it.

  It’s just as I lose hope that a large figure steps out of the shadows. The massive, hulking figure stops some of the Sinners in their tracks.

  Bruno.

  I swallow hard, relief plunging through me just knowing he’s alive and our team’s intact. A kick of energy flows through me. Bruno holds up his gun and picks off every target that comes within range. There’s no mistaking that streak of blond hair and those quick fists beside him. Genesis is holding her own in the hand-to-hand combat. Their group of followers floods into the street behind them, pushing the fight in our favor. Once Cole and Bill see what’s happened, they stop their chase to fight with them.

  My arms ache with tiredness, but I slam down on the latch once more. My hair whips in my face, but I tell myself to stay focused. As long as they hold off the Sinners and the guards.