I can’t lead them without knowing that guy and his buddies aren’t following us.
“Run,” Cole says.
I shake my head. “Not yet.” I pull a grenade from my pocket, and his eyes grow large. “Hurry, take the others downstairs.”
“No way. Not without you,” he says. But I shove him away.
“I have to do this.” With that said, I push past him back into the hallway.
“Lexi, no!”
The guy’s not dead. I hear his raspy breathing and the sound of him slamming a new magazine home.
He’s waiting for me. He knows I’ll be back to take care of him.
The thought makes my nerves jump and causes a rush of blood through my veins. I pull the tape like Bruno did, slip the spoon, and then toss the grenade into the room. It clatters across the floor.
“Shit!” The guy’s scream runs up my spine.
I threw it hard enough that, with his injuries, he won’t reach it in time to throw it back. I turn and sprint back through the doors. I’m practically flying down the staircase. My heart races. My hair sticks to my neck. I’m just about to second-guess my decision when I hear the grenade go off.
In the next moment, I’m tumbling down the stairs. My backpack slings over my head and carries me forward. I throw my arms up in a feeble attempt to protect myself. My elbows collide with cement; my hair splays everywhere. I can’t focus. The walls seem to uproot and tiles drop from the ceiling.
I hit the landing with a thump and then roll into a fetal position. I try to breathe, but my chest’s tight. Is that gasping sound coming from me? Pain rocks my body, like I’ve shattered every single bone.
A face with a big black nose and four brown eyes appears through my cloudy vision. Or maybe it’s two? Something cool and wet hits my cheek and brings me into focus. I stretch out my fingers and feel Zeus prodding me to my feet. Around him, the carnage continues raining down. The walls groan.
“Come on, Lexi, get up,” Cole says in a muffled voice. He links his arm through mine, pulling me up.
Mother of God. Burning pain shoots through my leg. It looks like a god of destruction swooped down and took a hammer to the building, breaking everything into pieces and turning it ashen and gray. I blink away the particles on my lashes. Bill’s shadowy figure sprints down two landings ahead of me.
“Don’t you ever pull that stunt again, you hear me?” Cole says as he drags me through the wreckage. “Even though it was the ballsiest thing I’ve seen you do.” He mutters some other things under his breath that I can’t decipher. “I know you’re pissed and hurt and so am I, but you can’t be that reckless.”
The staircase seems to take forever. Every step leads to shooting agony in my leg, sending stars across my vision. I lean on Cole to help me get through it, his body solid and his grip like iron. Flashes of the past wreak havoc in my head. The weirdest memories, forgotten long before, resurface. Like the time I sprained my ankle in the woods with Keegan, and he carried me home. He wasn’t that much bigger than me at the time, but he did it anyway. I’ll never forget how he gritted his teeth and the tendons in his neck popped with every step. He was breathless when we got home, and he fell on the front stairs to the porch, dropping me on my behind.
Saved me and then dropped me on my ass.
I’d give anything for him to be here with me. He’d know what to do. He’d know where to go. He was always so sure of his decisions even if they weren’t always right, but now I know, it’s time for me to make mine and be confident like he was.
“Lexi, you got to keep up with me,” Cole says. I turn my head to meet his gaze, but he’s already focused on the next flight.
“I will.” My throat’s thick with tension.
Three more flights to go. If I survived five, I can do this.
More gunfire echoes in the distance. I don’t know where it comes from, but the distinctive popping sounds tell me that we’re not out of the thick of it yet. Ahead of me, the others finish their last flight of stairs.
The guards watching the cameras must love this.
Two more to go. I wriggle free from Cole even though the pain’s enough to make me want to scream. I have to do this for myself, push through it, and help the others. In truth, we’re all fighting some kind of battle, physically and mentally. It’s up to me to be strong.
Last flight. I bump down the stairs, clenching my jaw, and focus on the bottom. Bill flicks on a small light to break the darkness as they wait for us. When we’re assembled, we stop to catch our breath before moving on.
I glance at their sweaty, dusty faces. Tracks from tears stain everyone’s cheeks, whether from grief or from the thick particles in the air. Bruno’s eyes water as they meet mine. Still holding Grace, he looks away.
There will be time to mourn later, I hope.
“Move,” Cole says with impatience.
He takes lead and runs straight down a dim hallway. I glance up and see a camera mounted in the corner as we hook a right, so I shoot off a round at it, shattering the lens and hopefully disabling it.
Cole bangs open a door. I see the word Morgue in dark letters on the gray metal as we cross into the cool and eerie room. All of the supplies that were stored in here before have been stripped, leaving nothing but the metal tables. Bill’s flashlight hits the refrigerators, sending weird shadows flitting across the numbers. I don’t have time to look for the one Alyssa’s body was stored in, but I can’t escape the memory of zipping her body bag and saying goodbye to her. Just breathe and focus.
Cole pushes through the doorway at the opposite end of the room, and we’re back by the entrance to the unmonitored staircase. We pass the elevator and then shove through the basement door and into the room where we began our journey. Goose bumps raise on my arms in response to the cooler air. A small ray of sunshine spills through the window and across the room, giving me a clear path through the mess.
I cover Cole until we’re close to the window. Without asking, Bill pulls up a wooden table and moves it against the wall.
“Who’s first?” Roméo asks. I can tell from his white face that he doesn’t want to volunteer.
“Me,” Bill says.
“No, Bill, you don’t have to do that,” I say.
“If anyone’s going to get us out of here, it’ll be me.” He steps onto the table and turns back to look at me. “Cover me once you’re out.” With those words, Bill maneuvers through the shattered window.
More light filters in, and I squint. Particles float aimlessly through my vision. Then a rustle at the back of the room grabs my attention.
“Go, Roméo,” I say. I turn around, pointing my gun behind us, expecting to see guards already standing there. But to my surprise, no one has found us … yet.
Roméo doesn’t hesitate as he climbs up and disappears through the opening after Bill. Then Cole goes. Bruno lowers Grace’s body to help bolster Zeus through the window. Then Cole waits for Bruno to pass Grace’s body through next.
A crashing noise echoes through the room just as Bruno’s halfway through the window. They found us. Focusing my sights, I fire off a few rounds, sending the dark uniforms diving for cover. I keep shooting until I’ve got nothing left, forcing them to keep their heads down.
Then I jump onto the table and pull myself up onto the ledge. My hands are slippery, and Cole locks onto my wrists.
“You got this,” he says. “I got you.”
My foot slips. I hang for a split second. I hear footsteps gaining on me, and my mind fills with panic.
“Cole!” I scream. “They’re here.”
Cole’s hands keep slipping from my wrists because of our combined sweat. I’m desperate. Behind me, voices shout.
“Grab her!” Brusque hands wrap around my ankles, and I thrash my legs to catch them off guard.
“They have my legs.”
Cole’s eyes widen in his beet-red face. “Get your hands off her!” he yells.
“My hands are slipping.”
T
hen another pair of hands, strong and taut, latch on to my forearms and together, they yank hard. With a collective grunt, Cole and Bruno pull me through the window. I land on my stomach in the street beside the hospital, my hands grinding into shattered glass.
Bruno barely breaks stride before picking up Grace and taking off. I don’t know how he functions, but I’m thankful he does. I push myself up, grabbing a grenade from a pocket in my vest.
A guard’s fingers already grip the windowsill, attempting to follow me out. He stops when he sees me standing in front of him, my fingers grasping the frag. His eyes widen. Is that fear I see?
“Get back here,” another guard says. “Come with us, and it’ll all be over.” I shake my head, locking my jaw. One of them squints at me. “Fine, have it your way. But your precious Sutton will be punished for this one.”
I turn it over in my head, those words. They make me sick, and my stomach roils.
With quick hands, I toss the grenade in and run. Behind me, they scream. The grenade explodes, silencing their voices and blowing more glass into the street with a shattering sound. I don’t bother glancing back.
Up ahead, the others begin crossing the open street in front of the hospital. I pass the bodies of the guards in front of the main entrance and then freeze.
The bright daylight and vulnerability of being out in the open makes my heart skip beats. If the tank rolls up, we’re really screwed. But already, Bill and Roméo have made it into the winding alley across from me, and Bruno carries Grace after them.
My breath catches in my throat when I meet eyes with Cole, who waits for me. He says nothing, but his eyes hold relief and fear.
“I’m okay,” I say firmly.
He nods then checks both ways, while I scan rooftops. In the distance, the sound of rumbling metal grabs my attention. Cole’s eyes flick to mine as I point toward the source of the commotion.
Here comes that tank again.
His jaw twitches, and he yanks me forward. Zeus joins us out of nowhere, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, his ears flopping around.
“Oh. Now you come,” Cole says under his breath.
I look left and get a visual on the tank as it heads toward us. The slow pace at which it lumbers along makes me think they have no idea what we’ve just done at the hospital or they’d be firing at us by now.
My leg burns, and my feet ache, but with twenty-five yards left to cross, we can’t stop. My force of will is the only thing holding me together.
To my left, the clanking sound moves closer, and behind us voices shout. I glance over my shoulder and see guards filtering into the street from the training center.
“She’s over there,” they shout.
Just then, a huge explosion rocks us, tumbling us forward. Smoke and debris cloud my vision as I crawl on all fours, coughing and gasping for air. My head pounds. Zeus’s tail is the only thing I see, and I follow it, running into Cole, who pulls me into the alleyway between the buildings.
“They’re right behind us,” he yells, but it sounds like a whisper.
He doesn’t need to repeat himself before Bill leads us away from the hospital and into the jungle gym of concrete with guards on our heels.
The siren sounds, screaming into my brain. The loudspeaker switches on, and the feedback crackles loudly. But even as I hear his breaths in the microphone, we keep running for our lives. Up, down, and around trash. Over piles of old tires, past decaying bodies. We’ve got to get the hell out of here with those records.
“Peekaboo, Lexi, I see you,” Wilson says over the loudspeaker, his voicing arching into a screech. “If you think you’re getting out, you’re wrong. If you think you’re getting away this time, think again.”
If he thinks he can make me bow to him, he’s wrong.
“Sutton’s going to receive a lash for every guard you killed today. And from here on out.”
Breathe, Lexi. He’s just threatening you because he has no power to stop what’s happening.
“Turn yourself in, and he won’t suffer any longer.”
But there’s no guarantee you’d let him go. It’s like Wilson’s repeatedly punching me in the stomach and trying to rip out my heart piece by piece.
“I’ll be seeing you soon,” he says. The microphone slams down. The siren picks up where it left off, and I’m left to fight an inner battle.
“Over my dead body,” I say under my breath.
Bill’s eyes narrow into slits, determination written on his face. He waves us onward, through shacks, past wide-eyed Sinners, and farther away from the hospital, all while holding his backpack of precious records.
My old building rises into view from the depths of carnage. The sun glints off what’s left of the windows, turning it into a brilliant orange, contrasting to the gray of the Hole. Bill leads us through the remnants of the checkpoint, past burned-out cars, and behind the building. Bodies are piled higher than the last time we were here. Mounds of them, reaching upward, arms and legs limply dangling over each other. It’s enough to make me want to hurl.
The stench hits me, and I turn my face away. Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, but I never falter in my movements.
A hand touches my back, and I turn to face Cole. He’s covered in dirt. He purses his lips and holds his M4 with confidence.
“Don’t let him break you,” he says.
I grab him and pull him close, inhaling his sweat, the ashen dirt, and blood-soaked clothing he wears, because I’ve got nothing to say back.
Cole should already know I’m not the same girl who came into the Hole months ago. I was innocent then, but I’ve since shed blood. I’ve watched people die, people that I love. I’ve learned more about the world in one year than most ever learn in their lives.
It’ll take more than Wilson talking to break me.
When I push Cole back, he swallows hard, gripping my shoulders and clenching his jaw. Then he lets go, and we run and run until we’re lost in the middle of the shantytown. Its perimeter spills out beyond where my eyes can see.
Our appearance garners suspicious stares, but we don’t have time to hide.
Bruno collapses first. He falls to his knees, bending his head over Grace, his back wracking with sobs. When Cole tries to console him, Bruno puts out his arm, pushing Cole away.
“He needs space, don’t take it personally,” Roméo says.
So Cole stands up and walks over to me. When his eyes lock onto mine, my heart tumbles. They’re full of love, anger, and desperation. He pulls me in for a tight hug and then releases me. His head turns away, but not before I see the tears.
Don’t fall apart on me yet.
Roméo lies down, keeping his backpack of files close to his side. He cries, pants, and looks dehydrated. I quickly fish out water from my sack and give him some, passing it around until finally, Zeus finishes it off with loud slurps. I rub his side, then sit on the ground pressing my back against the wall of a tin shack.
Everyone’s physically and emotionally tapped. My trembling hands inspect my leg where the bullet grazed me. I pour water on it, washing away the blood and dirt, and breathe a sigh of relief when I realize it’s just a superficial skin wound.
Cole kneels beside me. “I’m so sorry. For everything … I never meant to hurt you,” he says.
I nod.
He leans down and kisses me with such desperation we cry between our kisses. “God, I love you.” He chews on his top lip, his eyes so full of love and grief.
“I don’t doubt that. I know you still love me, and of course, I still love you. Because if there’s one thing I learned today, it’s how precious life is,” I say. He wipes the tears from my cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do if … if I lost you.” My voice breaks.
His shoulders slump, and he leans into me, pressing his forehead to mine.
“Hey, you’re not going to lose me,” he says, holding my face between his hands. I close my eyes for a second and take a cleansing breath.
I pla
ce my hands over his and say, “I need you to understand, I’m trying my hardest to move past what happened, but my father meant everything to me, and right now … I’m in all kinds of pain.”
He exhales before he clears his throat. “And it tears me apart that I’m part of that,” he says.
When I glance up, Sinners have surrounded us. My stomach drops.
Immediately, I reach for my gun.
“Stay back,” I say, pointing it at the gathering crowd. I back up to Cole, who’s already aiming his gun in their direction. Beside me is Bill, his gun raised. Inside the triangle formed by the three of us is Bruno, holding onto Grace, Zeus, and Roméo. “Don’t move an inch, or I’ll shoot.”
But they encircle us, eyes locking onto our faces. Some of them squint, while others lick their lips. Very few smile or nod in acknowledgement. It’s like a pack of wolves, testing their prey for weaknesses. They’re probably so hungry, they’d eat Zeus at this point.
“Here we are starving, and she’s got a pack full of food,” a female voice says.
“Gimme the water,” a man says while stepping toward me. I point my gun at him.
“I said don’t move,” I repeat.
“I’m going to die either way, girl, so you’ll just expedite the process.”
“Come on, guys … look at them … they’re not guards, you idiots.” A girl pulls back on the man’s shoulders. He stops and gives her a nasty look. He cracks his knuckles and raises a hand to hit her when someone yells.
“Hold on a minute!” Everyone turns to look at the person, and he points at me. “I recognize you.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Yeah, I recognize her too, from my dreams last night,” another mane chimes in. “You’re that girl. The one Wilson’s offering the reward for. Lexi, isn’t it?”
Cole steps forward a little, aiming right at the man with the smart mouth.