Hunted (A Sinners Series Book 2) (24 page)

We come to the intersection where, during the revolt, one of the squads branched off to go to the hospital and my team went to breach the Commander’s headquarters. Even now, the memories seem so vivid, so real. My heart drums. I look right, the way I went before, but then Cole turns left. We’re heading toward the hospital.

When I swallow, dust gets caught in my throat. It makes me cough and soon, I’m gagging. Cole stops when he realizes I’m not following him. Zeus loops back around and nudges my leg with his giant head.

“Lexi. Breathe. I’ll get you some water. Breathe, dammit,” Cole says and begins rummaging through his pockets. His fingers move fast as my eyes tear. He brings a canteen of water to my lips. I struggle to get it down between coughs. The cool liquid runs down my throat and washes away the phlegm. He puts a hand on my face. There is so much unspoken between us in that moment, it weighs me down. He doesn’t want to say it. He would never say it. But the truth is, we are going to die. We are going to die, and Sutton is too.

A tear runs down my cheek. Cole wipes it away. He looks like he is about to say something, but then he closes the canteen and returns it to his pocket.

Zeus circles, feeding off Cole’s energy. My body tenses, and Cole’s goes rigid.
What’s happening?
Suddenly, he yanks me into the shaded part between two buildings, slamming my shoulder into the wall.
Oh my God. What is happening?

“What the—”

Cole puts his finger to my lips. He quickly draws his gun and then pushes Zeus’s head behind him. Footsteps approach.

Judging from the uneven rhythm, it sounds like a group of people. Zeus’s ears perk up, and he sits at attention. His eyes hyper-focus on the street, small woofs coming from his mouth.

Cole slams himself against the wall, sneaking looks around the corner. His finger stays ready above the trigger. I cut my eyes toward the source of the noise, my breath coming in uneven bursts.

“No stopping,” a voice commands.

I don’t hear a reply and can’t see past Cole’s shoulder. His stiff posture and the way he slowly backs away from the entrance of the alleyway tell me he’s just as worried as I am. Why can’t he be honest about how he feels? Why must he always put on a brave face?

“No, sir, please!” someone screams.

“Get back in line, or I’ll shoot you. Your choice,” the guard says.

“I’d rather die,” the voice says.

“As you wish.”

There’s a gunshot and more screams.
What in God’s name is going on?
I cringe away from the sound as moaning and crying replace the screams. I picture another lifeless body in the street and want to throw up. No matter how many times I’ve seen it, it doesn’t get easier.

With his back still flattened against the wall, Cole turns his head toward me. His eyes are wide with adrenaline as sweat trickles down his dirty face, like paint dripping down a wall. His lips are pressed thin, his jaw tight. Once again, he says nothing, but instead turns back toward the entrance just in time for the people to come into view.

I suck in air.

Guards parade a group of about fifty Sinners, like stray dogs, through the street. As the Sinners walk, they stumble. Their eyes look tired, and their bodies look weak from malnutrition and disease. They’re dirty, and their clothes are in tatters. Some bleed. Some of them weep as they walk, and others wear blank stares, eyes glazed over. The first guard leads and instructs them while the others surround the group and make them move faster.

“When it’s over, you go back to your homes,” he says in a demanding tone. He turns around and leads the sad group down the road. “You hear me? Straight home.”

A face in the crowd flicks in my direction.

No!

I jump back into the shadows, sure she’s seen me. My pulse races. I can’t breathe.

I think I know that woman
.
I’ve seen her before.

Amber. It’s her. It’s unmistakably her.

One of the nurses I used to work with in the hospital, she looks like a shell of her former self. Bulging eyes stare out from a shriveled face. Her once vibrant hair lies limp down her back in thin strands.

I hold my breath waiting for her to scream, “She’s there!”

But minutes pass, and the group continues down the street.

That was close.

I slide down the cement wall, letting my gun dangle in my hands for a short moment. My chest feels like it’s on fire. Cole squats next to me and puts his hand on my neck, and for the first time, his touch doesn’t comfort me. I push my feelings aside and focus on what’s happening.

“We should follow them. See where they’re taking them,” I say.

“Medical records … that’s what we’re looking for,” Cole says. “We can’t afford to get sidetracked. Besides, Wilson just increased his army by thousands by offering freedom to the person who turns you in. Now, instead of just guards, every Sinner able to stand will be trying to take you down.”

And he killed the last Sinner who could identify us.
He can’t go around just killing people who happen to lay eyes on us.
Neither of us say anything for a few seconds. Wilson has changed everything.

“Look,” I say, pausing to gather my thoughts. “Most of those people looked really sick. Maybe they were being taken somewhere that could lead us to information that could help Roméo.” I push myself up and brush off my pants.

Cole removes his hand from my neck.

“Okay, fine. But if it gets too risky we’re turning around.” In that moment, I know something between us has changed because Cole stands aside and motions for me to take the lead. And for the first time in forever, I feel like I might be in control of my destiny.

I slink along the walls of the surrounding buildings, keeping the tail end of the slow march within view.
It’s no wonder I don’t see anyone if this is what they’re doing to those who come out during the day.
And then I think about Amber and how she almost saw me. She looked like crap.
I guess even her plan to bribe the guards eventually fell through.

And then we’re there.

The Commander’s old headquarters, where the transformation center was moved after the revolt, looms overhead to the left of the main gate. The entrance to the video viewing room changed into thick, cement double doors with guards at attention on either side. Cattle chutes line the outside, forming two lines, where people get separated—spouses, children, parents, lovers, and friends—males on one side and females on the other. Then the guards force the Sinners into the building. Creeping into the shadows, I point the entrance out for Cole as Zeus sits by my side.

Watching them separate the Sinners into categories infuriates me. Bile burns in my throat. My hands clench my gun, turning my knuckles white. This is a completely new kind of evil.

Amber’s figure disappears on the right side and through the new, heavy doors. After the Sinners are inside, some of the guards light up cigarettes or laugh and talk together.

What are they doing to those people?
What is this place?

It’s like the guards aren’t human. Like Cole said he was in the past—solid and hard, without a conscience. Cole exhales in disgust.

Before I can gather my senses, Zeus darts out of our hiding spot and runs straight across the street.

What the hell?

I’m about to dive after him when Cole practically rips me back into place, his eyes flashing a warning.

“What’re you doing?” I say with anger before checking both ways, making sure the guards haven’t spotted Zeus. They haven’t. Zeus stands, staring at a teenage boy while holding a flat, red ball in his mouth. When the coast is clear, I sprint toward them, despite Cole’s attempt to keep me in place.

The young man’s eyes turn to quarters and his mouth drops open as he stares at Zeus.

“The ball’s my brother’s,” he says in barely a whisper. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

Zeus approaches him and drops the ball at his feet, whining.

Relief washes over the boy’s face as he picks up the ball, never taking his eyes off Zeus.

“Thank you,” he says.

Zeus ambles forward as the boy holds his hand out and gives him a quick lick, and then he nudges him into a dark entryway.

“Okay, you stay safe,” the boy says. He catches sight of me and gives a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here to help us.”

Before I can reply, footsteps come up behind me, and I flip around. I raise my hand to my gun, but it’s only Cole. He curses under his breath, and his movements are rigid as he draws closer.

“Halt!” I hear someone say.

Oh crap.

My eyes meet Cole’s. He gives a darting glance toward the voice and turns back to me. His finger moves to the trigger of his gun, and I know exactly what will happen next. I duck my head, and Zeus covers me with his body. Just then, Cole fires three times.

Cole dashes into the space behind me, using the wall as cover.

“Go!” he shouts.

Zeus and I run together.

More shots ring out. Small spits of dust kick up close to us. I race between buildings, turning left, and then turning right. Zeus trails me, and Cole follows.

“Halt!” the voice shouts again.

But Cole drowns it out with the sound of his gun.

I don’t look back to see if he hit the person or if they’re still following us. I go until my legs can’t carry me anymore. I run until I know we’re safe. Somehow, we end up in an alleyway, where laundry hangs from clotheslines. Patched clothes, old sheets, and faded underclothing are slung carelessly over the thin lines. I sprint underneath, my breathing becoming heavier. My blood pumps through my ears. I turn to check on Cole and Zeus.

Next thing, I’m lying on my back, staring at a light-blue checkered shirt slung over my face. At first, I can’t move. Then, I begin to thrash with my hands and feet. The tangled line catches, wrapping around the shirt and my head at the same time. I gasp for air.

Someone rips the shirt off my face. The thin line of laundry trails behind it. I squint into the sun as a dark head comes into focus. Standing over me is Zeus, staring down with a shirt in his mouth.

“Your timing is impeccable,” Cole says. He rips me off the ground and shoves me forward. I feel slightly humiliated.

“Where are they?” I ask, trying to catch my breath. My head spins just slightly.

“Not sure. We’ll hide in there.”

He helps me through a doorway and into a vacant room. It smells musty. The cement-block walls are covered with a thin film of mold. I see a staircase in the far left corner, snaking upward to the next floor.

Zeus runs up with the old shirt still in his mouth, shaking it left and right.
Seriously, Zeus, you think it’s alive?

Cole looks around. Glass crunches under our boots with each step we take.

“We need to get to higher ground to see where we’re at.” We reach the stairs, and he waves me up behind him, scanning our surroundings as he leads.

The staircase opens up, and sunshine pours through the hallway. The room upstairs resembles an over-crowded dorm room. Dirt and dust streaks the windows, but the glass remains intact. Zeus makes his home on the dilapidated couch, tearing at the cushions. Fluff springs from the overstuffed pillows.

My feet stick to the floor, and I look down at the filth grabbing at my soles.
Yuck.
Bunk beds line the walls, and someone’s written all over the cement in bold, black marker.

As I read the writing, Cole says, “Only you’d clothesline yourself during a gunfight.”

I turn to him and smile. He’s right. If Keegan were alive, I’m sure the two of them would be having a good laugh at my expense.

He smiles for the first time in days then says, “Are you all right?” He turns me to face him.

“My pride’s a little bruised, that’s for sure,” I say. He looks at me for a minute before letting go.

“I don’t doubt that.” He leans against the wall, peeking out the window.

I collapse on the couch, next to Zeus, and listen as he growls. A spring pokes my butt, and I jump. Part of me wants him to be able to act like a pup for once. It has to get old, being serious and on guard all the time, even though that’s what he’s trained to do. I reach across, whipping the pillow out from under his paws, and he grabs it with his mouth.

“You did a good job back there, buddy,” I say to him. He snarls at the pillow and proceeds ripping its guts out. “That boy could’ve gotten himself killed.”

“Those guards would’ve killed them both,” Cole says. As he speaks, I notice the red rims around his eyes and the dirt caked on his face.

“Did you know them?” I ask.

He shakes his head and averts his eyes. If he’s trying to pretend his secret isn’t eating at him, then he’s doing a poor job of hiding it.

The silence emanating from him bothers me so much, I can barely sit still. I am on edge. Nervous. Sick to my stomach. Angry.

I need to do something to take my mind off of our relationship and Wilson’s threats. I get up and walk to the wall on the opposite side of the bunk beds. As I read the black ink, I’m shocked.

“Cole?”

“Yeah.”

“Come here. You need to see this … ”