Page 71 of Glass Rose
“Min-Ji—” Alex raises his hands. “Please, I didn’t mean?—”
“Save it. You’re only breathing because Marcus wouldn’t want blood on my hands.”
The warehouse door bursts open behind us, and Gavin emerges from the smoke-filled entrance, rifle raised, with John limping behind him. John’s left shoulder is soaked in blood, his shirt torn where a bullet punched through flesh.
“Sofia!” Gavin’s gaze bounces between us. “Get in the car. Now!”
A low moaning carries across the night air. Not one voice but many, a chorus rising from the treeline. Shadows move between the trees. But not only that. A Green—former—Green soldier crawling out of the fire lapping at the entrance.
“Fuck.” John sways on his feet. “Incoming.”
“Let’s go.” I reach for Min-Ji’s arm.
She shakes me off. “I’ll hold him here.”
“What? No! We’re not leaving you!”
“Someone needs to slow them down.” Her voice doesn’t waver. “Make your escape worth something.”
The infected are closing in from all sides, drawn by our voices, our scent, our warmth. The SUV sits a few yards away, keys in the ignition where I left them.
Our only chance.
“Min-Ji, please,” I beg. “Come with us. We can figure this out.”
“I lost everyone at the facility. Then Marcus. I have nothing left.” Her voice softens. “But you do. Go.”
“This is fucking suicide.” Tears burn my eyes. “You can’t?—”
Gavin’s arm locks around my waist from behind, lifting me off the ground. “Time to go.”
“No!” I kick my feet in the air, trying to get out of his grip. “Please.”
“We don’t have time.” He carries me toward the SUV. “John’s losing blood, and those infected will be here in less than a minute.”
No. This is wrong. But he’s right.
Min-Ji finally meets my eyes, and the resignation stops my struggling cold. She’s made her decision. She won’t be swayed.
“It was nice working with you.” She inclines her head. “I hope we meet again, and when you find a cure. Name it after me. The Cho Solution has a nice ring to it.”
“Don’t do this,” I whisper. “Please.”
Gavin yanks open the passenger door and deposits me inside like a sack of groceries. “You don’t get to die with her.”
John fumbles with the door handle, nearly collapsing as he hauls himself into the back seat. My emergency pack lies onthe floorboard where I dropped it earlier. I put on the seatbelt and clutch it to my chest like a shield as Gavin slides behind the wheel, starting the car. He throws it into reverse, tires spitting gravel as we lurch backward.
The seatbelt stops my body with a jolt, but all I focus on is the scene before me.
Infected swarm from all sides, Green’s remaining soldiers forming a defensive perimeter in front of the warehouse entrance, and in the middle of it all, Min-Ji and Alex locked in their private standoff.
Through the smoke billowing from the warehouse, a figure emerges. Gabriel Green stands in the doorway, regarding us and then Min-Ji, a cruel smile spreading over his lips.
Gavin whips the wheel around, shifts into drive, and floors the accelerator, forcing me to grab the dashboard to stay upright while the backpack topples to the floor.
In the side mirror, I catch one final glimpse of the warehouse. Min-Ji has lowered her weapon, her shoulders slumped as she kneels beside Marcus’s body. Whether in defeat or acceptance, I can’t tell. Around her, Green’s soldiers cut down infected with controlled bursts of gunfire while Alex is dragged toward the building by two men in tactical gear.
Then the road curves, and everything disappears.
