Hunted (A Sinners Series Book 2) Page 4

  When I open my eyes, I’m lying in the bed with my knees to my chest. The faint glow of a half-melted candle sits next to the bed. My breathing is steady. I feel Cole’s warm arms wrapped around me, my back up against him. His fingers lightly stroke my hair, and I know I’m safe.

  “I’m so sorry,” I manage to say.

  “Don’t,” he says. “Please, don’t apologize.” He squeezes me tight. “I’m right here, like I promised I’d be.”

  “I ruined—”

  “Nothing, you’ve ruined nothing.” He kisses the back of my head. “The spider’s to blame, not you, but don’t worry, he paid for it. Nasty bugger was huge. You should’ve heard the noise when I squashed—”

  “Cole!”

  “I know, but seriously, he was the size of my fist.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Okay, I’m done.” He tucks my hair behind my left ear and whispers, “Any chance you’d be able to sleep? Blacking out doesn’t exactly count.”

  I turn my head to the left to glimpse him out of the corner of my eye. The flickering candle gives off just enough light for my eyes to settle on his face. My heart sinks. He’s beautiful. There’s no denying that. “Maybe, if you hold me tight. Really, really tight. I should be able to.”

  He kisses my check. “Go to sleep then, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

  His words comfort my soul, so I give in to exhaustion and drift off to sleep.

  The sun peeks through holes in the slats covering the windows, casting slivers of light across the bed, and I blink away the crust sealing my eyes. It’s gotta be around 7:30. The candle next to the bed has burned into a lump of white wax. A yawn escapes my lips as I arch my back and stretch. My hair falls down my back in brown, curly waves. I reach for Cole, but he’s gone. Panic bolts through me as I sit straight up, searching the room for any sign of him.

  “Morning.” Cole stands in the doorway looking handsome in his boxer-briefs.

  “Morning.” I smile briefly, feeling cautiously relieved. He sits next to me and hands me a bowl of something hot. It feels almost normal sitting in bed with Cole serving me breakfast. Well, more normal than hiding in abandoned buildings and scrounging for food.

  “It’s not gourmet, but it’ll do.” He winks at me as I examine it with a skeptical face.

  “Mmmmm. Canned chili for breakfast.” I smile and look down at the steaming bowl. My stomach growls loudly, right on cue. It has been so long since we had hot food, and I feel bad about complaining. So I close my eyes and imagine steak and eggs.

  Cole dips a piece of bread into my chili and eats it. “See? It’s not so bad.” But it doesn’t go down so easily. He grabs the water on the windowsill and chokes it down.

  Ever since we escaped the Hole, we’ve been optimistic and hopeful. But the longer we run, the more we get shot at and chased, the harder it is to keep that hope going. Even now, despite everything we’ve just been through, Cole tries to keep things light. But underneath his cool exterior, I know a storm is brewing inside him. Right now, he is quietly calculating how much food we have left, how many paces there are from here to the window in case we need a quick escape.

  Still, here in this safe house without surveillance, we’re free to be together, and for now, that’s enough. We don’t talk about the fact that we both wake up in the middle of the night screaming and sweating from nightmares. We don’t talk about how, when, or if we will ever truly be free. We focus on the now, the moment, and these precious few glimpses of freedom we steal.

  Someone once told me that hope was a luxury we couldn’t afford. That determination was a much better option and one that would likely keep me alive. But hope is my motivation, my strength. Hope that humanity has a chance to redeem itself. Hope that what’s left of this broken-down country can be saved and people will be free again, the way it was before the last war and the rise of the Commander.

  “Do you think we can make a difference? I mean, we made it out. Do you think we can free others?” I slosh the chili around in the bowl and wait for Cole to respond. When he doesn’t right away, I add, “You’ve seen some of those people in the Hole. Their eyes are dead. They’ve given up. They have no fight left. I was lucky. I got out. And even though I lost Keegan, my mom, and my dad, you and Sutton are my family now. But what about those who have no one? No one and nothing to live for? Who is going to save them?”

  “I gotta believe this hasn’t all been for nothing,” he says, then takes another sip of water. “I’d like to think we might have inspired some people.”

  “Do you think we should go back? Help them?” My voice lowers as I lift my eyes to his. The thought of voluntarily going back to the Hole brings a sudden stinging pain to my chest. I can’t go back.

  “No, I don’t. How can you even think about going back there?” Cole runs his free hand over his head as if he cannot believe the words coming out of my mouth. He rests his head against the wall and exhales. “You ever hear stories, growing up, about the world outside our country?”

  I move the bowl from hand to hand nervously, unsure of where this conversation is going. Cole stares at me incredulously. No one ever talks about the before. “It was never discussed in school,” I say. “The only reason I know some of what it was like before the Commander is because my parents talked about it.”

  His eyes search mine, and he nods. “Yeah, school’s a joke; the curriculum’s pretty much just propaganda for the Commander. You know damn well the government doesn’t want us to have hope.”

  “I remember the fourth and fifth wars were started by terrorism and that other countries refused to challenge those sheltering the terrorists who were responsible … ” I take a spoonful of chili, chewing slowly. “And that our country bore the brunt of everything … bombings, attacks, financial ramifications.”

  “Do you know what happened out west?” he asks.

  “That it used to be populated? My dad made mention of it long ago.”

  “It used to be one of the centers for technological development. Weapons, computers, everything.” His eyes harden, and his voice becomes bitter. “But the United Powers had it destroyed, sending us back into the Dark Ages.”

  “The United Powers? Why would they do that?” I scrunch up my face as I prepare to take another bite of food.

  “Who knows? I guess they thought it would eliminate weapons and bring peace. Some ambassadors of world peace they turned out to be,” he says.

  “But I thought we were part of the United Powers?”

  “We are, but only after they united against our country and forced us to pay damages for World War Five, which crippled any chance our country had of rebuilding. That’s why the first Commander was voted in. He pledged to rebuild, pledged to keep us out of war, and he talked a pretty good game.” Cole exhales long and hard. “But here we are, barely surviving while the United Powers turn a blind eye to the desecration of what was once a great country. The rest of the world continues living as though nothing happened here. It doesn’t affect them.”

  “No wonder people loved the Commander,” I say.

  He looks at me with a skeptical face. “Why is that?”

  “Because they believed in him. Don’t you get it? He made promises. He told them what they wanted to hear. What they needed in order to move on. He gave them hope. And when he didn’t deliver, they forgave him because they wanted to believe in something and he was all they had.”

  “And it was a recipe for exactly what we have now. And Wilson, he’s insane. He is hardly going to deliver on the promise of the first Commander. He’s just as lost and so mad with power that he will do anything to keep things exactly the way they are. Please tell me you aren’t feeling sorry for him.” Cole raises an eyebrow.

  “Definitely not. I don’t know what I feel. Part of me thinks we can maybe change things. Get things moving in the right direction again. I mean, we got out. And the other part of me thinks the thought of it is insane and that we’re going to die out here. Then again,
my dad couldn’t do it alone, so what hope do we have?” Unspoken words hang in the air between us as Cole shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “If only you could have met him. He was an amazing man. And I know he would’ve adored you.”

  Cole’s silence makes me uneasy. He just stares for what feels like minutes.

  “Lexi.” The way he says my name causes the hair on my neck to stand. I can’t bear what he might say next.

  “I wasn’t suggesting we should go back to the Hole. I’m not that crazy. I was just thinking out loud.”

  I suddenly have no desire to continue this conversation, so I shovel a spoonful of the spicy chili into my mouth. It’s too much, and I gag. Cole doesn’t even address my last comment, so I set the bowl aside and get dressed. I feel his eyes on me, following my every move. It makes me strangely uncomfortable, so I hurry and cover up.

  “You do realize I’ve seen you naked,” he says. “Several times.”

  No matter how many times he’s seen me naked, I still feel self-conscious. When I’m done, I turn and offer him a shy smile.

  “Feel better now?” He winks and clears his throat. A mischievous smile crosses his face. He claps his hands and heads toward me.

  I’m about to take him into my arms for a kiss when we hear a strange grinding sound from somewhere in the house. Cole’s eyebrows bunch up, and he freezes.

  “Maybe it’s just the wind,” I say, trying to convince myself, heart pounding.

  Beneath us, the trash cans bang around suddenly. Cole pulls back from me and heads toward the door.

  “Maybe you should put some pants on first?” I suggest, only half-joking.

  He quickly pulls his pants off the heater they lay drying on.

  Please let it be the wind. Please let it be the wind. Please let it be the wind. I rummage around for my boots, and by the time I get them on, Cole has his gun out and is handing me mine. I listen for more disturbances while Cole peeks through a small hole in a window slat. I wish Zeus were here.

  The front door handle jiggles, twists, and then I hear the grinding of pieces, searching for the magic click at the end. It’s not the wind. My blood freezes, and my body becomes steel.

  Click.

  My stomach’s one big knot. I want to scream.

  Cole’s eyes flick to mine. They’re wide with fear as he whispers, “Stay here.”

  “No way. I’m coming with you.”

  “Damn it, Lexi.” He clenches his jaw and tightens his shoulders.

  I motion him forward with my free hand. He turns and carefully hugs the hallway with his body. His gun is raised in front of him as he checks the spare bedroom across the hall. Nothing.

  He checks the bathroom, but nothing’s there.

  A loud clanging of metal echoes down the hall. I can think of nothing else that would make that noise except the lamp by the front door. I blink rapidly and mimic every move Cole makes, backing him up.

  Footsteps. Pause. Whispers. More footsteps.

  I put any other thoughts out of my mind as I focus on the sounds. I listen for how heavy or soft the foot placement is, the raising or lowering of the vocal tones of the whispers. I motion to Cole with two fingers, and I see it register in his eyes. He stops right before the living room. I can feel the tension rolling off him as the muscles in his neck tighten. Cole motions his move forward. I follow.

  He rounds the corner.

  Cole moves quickly. I follow him. Shouts, screams, and bullets zing through the air, hitting the ceiling and windows. I hear them cutting through the fabric of the couch, slicing through the wood on the floors, ricocheting off the refrigerator door.

  Just around the corner, I engage a female guard. She’s small, fast, and she fires at me.

  “Ahhhh!” The bullet burns as warm liquid trickles down my face.

  I return fire, but she reaches for my arm. The bullet misses, going over her head.

  She lunges at me with a knife. I jump back, stumbling over the wicker couch and flipping it onto its back. I land on my butt. She comes barreling over me with slashes and flashes of sharp steel. My gun skids away. I catch her hand with the tip of the knife poised above my chest. She’s too strong. I clench my jaw, trying to force the knife away. It touches right above my heart.

  “Cole!” I scream with everything I have. The guard sneers at me, knowing full well I have no fight left. I’m drifting. I can feel the energy leaving me. I’m getting weaker. I’m going to die. I am going to die.

  Gripping the woman’s hand, I clench my jaw and strain every muscle and tendon in my body, holding her back. I faintly hear Cole yelling in the background.

  The guard’s eyes squint as she pushes the knife farther down. Her sweat’s dripping onto my face, and I know I can’t hold on much longer. My arms burn from straining. I’m losing it. The knife pierces me. I close my eyes. This is it. Then I hear a loud, dull thump. Blood trails from the top of the guard’s head, down and over my skin.

  Her body goes rigid. Her eyes go blank, and her body relaxes as it shuts down. I feel her weight bearing down on me in its entirety. Her hands loosen on the knife, and it becomes lodged between our bodies.

  I’m shaking as I kick her off the couch, rip the knife away from between us, and roll to my left. I’m barely able to catch my breath. A knife is lodged in the back of her head. Her blood gushes onto the floor, staining it in pools of crimson.

  I scramble onto the floor, searching for my gun. Overturned furniture and blood-covered fluff from the cushions covers the wooden planks. The lampstand lies on its side surrounded by shattered glass. Where the hell did it go?

  Cole struggles with a dark figure in the kitchen.

  “Is that all you got? I’ve been waiting months to take you down, traitor. There’s a special place in hell for people like you. Protecting Sinners. Turning against your own,” the guard says with his hands wrapped around Cole’s neck. They smash into pots and pans on the counter while fighting for control.

  “Nothing’s worse than covering your sorry ass. Or have you forgotten how I covered for you? You’ve always been pathetic,” Cole says.

  “You’re gonna die, asshole. I already called Clayton. He’s gonna rain hell on you when he gets here.”

  I can’t take it. I rip the knife out of the dead guard’s head. Then, with a grunt, I chuck it at Cole’s opposition, just as his back turns toward me. It clatters to the floor. I missed.

  Both men jump at the weapon. I clench my fists, trying to think of my next move. But they’re wrestling on the ground, backed into a corner, and I don’t see how I can get there without getting in Cole’s way and jeopardizing his position. They wrangle for control, choking and throwing elbows. Cole stabs the guard in the chest. I hear his skin and muscles tear open when Cole drags the knife down his abdomen. I swallow the bile in my throat.

  The man continues wrestling Cole, all the while gagging on his own blood. He spits it out between his teeth as he grabs for Cole. The kitchen floor fills with smears of red before the guard falters. Cole pushes him away, surveys the scene. Blood splatter covers Cole’s face and clothes.

  “How’d they find us?” I rush to him, but he seems to be already plotting our next move, hardly looking at me.

  “Not now! We gotta get the hell out of here!” He runs to the front door and pushes his shoulder against it. Like that matters now.

  His chest heaves for air, and sweat pours down his forehead. He checks the rounds left in his gun. Once he’s satisfied, he presses his lips together and stares out the front window next to the door.

  I step over the bodies, retrieve my gun, and kneel below the front window, beside the broken lamp.

  “You’re freaking me out,” I say. I peek through a bullet hole in the window and see a guard run around the front of the house.

  “Promise me something,” Cole says.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the dark figure of a guard poised outside the front staircase. I keep my hand on the board, scanning for more while I listen to
Cole.

  “I don’t like where you’re going with this … ”

  He slides down the wall so he’s on my level. “If I don’t make it out, promise me you’ll run.”

  My heart thunders in my ears.

  “No, I won’t do that,” I say. He shakes his head fast. “I won’t leave you.”

  “You have to survive. Promise me.” His eyes plead with me. I grit my teeth and then let out a big sigh. I’m exhausted and hurt and terrified.

  “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  His mouth opens, but before he can say anything, the front door blasts open, throwing Cole back onto the floor.

  Another guard storms in.

  The new guard is taller than Cole, his shoulders broad like a wrestler. His muscles protrude from every inch of his body. His forearms are as thick as my neck and his neck as thick as my thigh. I realize it’s over. We can’t survive this. In his huge hands is an equally huge gun pointed at Cole’s head.

  “Don’t move,” I say, trying my best to sound tough.

  Cole looks like a deer in headlights.

  The guard sneers and says, “Drop it, honey.” He laughs, never taking his eyes off Cole. He places the metal of the gun to Cole’s temple. “You try anything, and I’ll blow him to oblivion.”

  “Clayton, never thought I’d see your ugly face again,” Cole says.

  I can’t think straight. I bite my lower lip to keep from screaming. I want to run.

  “Well then today’s your lucky day,” Clayton says. “You got to see me one last time before I kill you.”

  “Not if I kill you first,” Cole says.

  “I hope after all your heroic gestures you at least got in her pants.”

  Cole remains silent. I can almost feel the rage rolling off his skin.

  “You ignorant scumbag!” I shout, narrowing my eyes at Clayton. My stomach cramps, and I know that’s what they all must think—that Cole is only in it for the benefits. “If you even flinch, I’ll shoot.”

  “I’m guessing that’s a no. She seems entirely too uptight,” Clayton says through gritted teeth. If he wasn’t pointing his gun at Cole’s head, I’d have shot him already.