Page 88 of Obliterated
She’s livid, clawing and struggling in Roe’s grip, while the fake Watchers—the ones clustered by the gate’s control lever—start fighting the real ones. It’s a hard, ugly scuffle: metal on metal, curses, boots sliding on stone. Sami jumps into the fray, ripping off a cloak and throwing himself at the faker clutching the lever.
I open my mouth to yell, take a step forward to help, but then—
The gate starts lifting.
“Oh, fuck no.” I drop into a stance like I’m falling into the only thing that makes sense. Whisper again in my right hand, the cleaver in my left, my love planted at my side. “Get ready, Kee. They’re coming.”
I ignore the stand’s scuffle and the way the crowd is turning into a pack of screaming bodies. My focus is the gate, the stinking pile of Walkers behind it, and the beast inside me that’s waking, roaring and hot. Just as the first of the Walkers slams into the newly widening gap.
A snap of Kieran’s wrist—clean, stupidly perfect—and his dagger buries itself in a skull. The thing jerks and drops.
“Atta boy,” I say, because there’s no time for anything else. “Good throw.”
“Thank you,” he breathes, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with something fierce and new.
Then fear chokes me again. The gate groans and shrieks on its hinges; the Walkers smash and shriek, crazed by the rain. Bodies pile, pushing, tearing at the bars.
“They’re breaking through!”
Just as I brace myself, one step in front of Kieran, something beautiful happens. Something unexpected.
A person drops into the Pit and comes straight at us. Not an ordinary person, no. A Watcher, gun held high. A shot cracks and a Walker goes down, shot clean between the eyes. The man who fired twitches his head before grinning at us.He’s Touched.He can stand in the rain.You can’t get infected twice.
“For our champion,” he says, nodding at me, and I can only fucking stare.
Like a fucking trigger has been pulled, more people hop into the Pit. A couple more Watchers, bronze tags flashing. My brothers in arms, landing like a godsdamned thunderclap around us. The five of them move like a machine, quick, brutal, perfectly practiced, and form a semicircle around us, guns or swords raised.
Then the regulars follow. Townsfolk with whatever they had on them, knives tucked at belts, a butcher’s axe, a simple sword. All Touched. All twitching.
They’re here to help. To cut through the Walkers. To set us free.
A laugh, real and raw, tears out of me, hot and hopeful and stupid, and salt pools at the corners of my eyes. I pull Kee close and press my mouth hard to his. I kiss him like I mean to keep him.
Because I can.I can fucking keep him.
The gate snaps fully open then, and the frenzy rushes in. I shove Kee off me—his eyes as wild and hungry as mine—raise Whisper, and fucking roar until my throat cracks, because theworld has handed us a flicker of hope and I’m going to take it, own it, carve it out with my hands if I have to.
We charge, shoulder to shoulder, blades out and slick with red.
And the first swing is gonna be mine.
Epilogue
Kieran - One Month Later
Myheart’sracing,panic’sclawing at my chest, trying to invade all of me as I run through the woods beyond the wall. My lungs are fucking burning, my legs trembling so hard they might fall off at any second. Breath whooshes out of me, adrenaline spiking, the thrill coursing through me like some wired animal.
I’m running for my damn life.
“It’ll be fun,”he said.“The hunt. The chase…”I can still hear him, still see that crooked grin on his face, that stupidexcitement for the idea he cooked up before we took off. It made my chest ache in this stupid, dangerous way.
It’s been two hours of baiting, goading, then chasing and running. Every time I think I’m home free and let myself take a second tobreathe, to calm the racing in my ribs, it’s there—a rustle in the leaves, a shadow sliding between trunks, coming from somewhere I didn’t expect—and I trip over my own feet trying to getthefuck away.
Get to the damn wall. To the Pit. That’s the finish line. Get to the Pit and I’m safe.
I almost faceplant when I dash off the main western road—the one that leads back to the cliff house—and into the thicker trees, stumbling, running so fast all I can hear is the pounding in my ears, until the insistent growl behind me is fading,finally.
After a couple of minutes of blessed silence, I burst into a clearing with a little creek and drop to my knees next to the welcome water. “I can’t—” I wheeze. “I fuckingcan’t. I need a minute.”
