Page 35 of The Girl Who Kicked Ass (Death Fields 3)

Our part of the mission is terrifying and likely to fail. Davis and Parker are positioned with the other teams, who, according to rumor, have managed to secure a tank or two and a couple of hand-held rocket launchers. Basically, we’re headed straight into enemy territory that will be under serious gunfire very soon. Wyatt was right. We’re all making sacrifices to stop my sister.

Paul easily leaps over felled trees and scrawny shrubs. He’s our brawn and only defense against the Hybrids. Jude’s aim is true. Me? I’m here in case there are complications and someone needs to talk us out of a tight spot. Not that Chloe has any use for what I have to say, but I feel for my hatchet, heavy against my leg, anyway. I’ll use it against her if I have to.

The fence line comes into view and we race forward, pressing our bodies against the cool, hard steel. We’re breaking in the way we came out months ago—through the back gate behind the dumpster. It’s the Center’s blind spot and our best shot of getting inside.

Jude shifts next to me. “You think it will really be unlocked?”

“Yes.” Wyatt is supposed to leave it open for us. I have faith but I’m still not sure the rest of team is convinced. Doesn’t matter now, I think, tugging at the latch.

It’s locked.

Crap.

“It’s locked,” I say, staring at the coiled chain and padlock hanging from the gate. I yank again as though it may magically open.

Jude’s eyes reveal slight panic and I try my best to remain calm. Paul brushes past me, barking, “Move over,” before grasping the lock in both hands and pulling hard. The action seems futile but the veins in his neck strain and his biceps bulge. I’m afraid he’ll rupture something, and rest a hand on his shoulder. “Paul, don’t hurt…”

The lock snaps and he holds it up for me to see in two pieces.

“Holy crap, dude,” Jude says taking a piece and staring at it in wonder. “You’ve been holding back on us.”

We squeeze through the gate, making as little sound and movement as possible, and duck behind the dumpster. “Wyatt told Davis that Chloe would be in the main office—she’s been using it for her headquarters,” I whisper, although I don’t know how anyone would hear me with the rapid gunfire coming from the guard towers and along the fence.

Jude’s eyebrows knit together. “Are we sure about that?”

“I’m not sure about anything,” I say. “But we need to stick to the plan. Taking out Chloe is our best option.”

I lead the team out of our hiding spot and step from the darkness into the grassy area leading toward the office. We’re met with the sound of metal clicking into place as a dozen gun barrels aim in our direction. The soldiers, with their purples patches stitched on their shoulders, have us surrounded. Two figures stand in the middle. My eyes pass over Hayes, the fighter we worked closely with during our time here, who eventually betrayed us to Chloe and the smug look on his face. At his feet is a man on his knees with a gun to the back of his head.

“Found out your boy has been playing both sides,” Hayes says, jamming the nozzle of the gun into the back of Wyatt’s skull. He nods at the soldiers surrounding us and we’re disarmed and shoved to the ground. “The Director doesn’t take well to traitors.”

Wyatt’s jaw is tight—his eye blackened and swelling badly. Blood is caked on the corner of his mouth. If Hayes knew about us coming then it was likely he knew about Wyatt feeding us information.

“You would know, right?” I jerk away from the soldier binding my hands. He shoves a heavy boot in the small of my back. I still under the pressure. A broken back won’t help me complete my mission. “How does it feel to lick the boots of my sister and be a part of her deranged freak show?”

Jude is not so complaint, and takes a swinging punch before they can restrain him. His knuckles graze the Hybrid’s cheek, but she’s too quick, cracking his ribs with her elbow. He falls to the ground in a heap, doubled over in pain.

“How does it feel?” Hayes repeats my question and walks over to me. He towers over me. I keep my eyes on his. They’re not the mutated post-infection eyes the Eaters or Hybrids have, but there’s still something dangerous about them. I should have known when I saw him enter the ring with that Eater all those months ago that he had a death wish. He bends down so our faces are nearly touching. “It feels like I picked the winning team.”

I hold his eye and spit in his face. I can’t help but laugh at the long glob of saliva hanging at his chin.

“Think again.”

Hybrid hands grab me by the shoulders and Hayes’ fist balls next to my face. I wait for the punch.

It never comes.

Instead Hayes laughs, creepy and weird, particularly against the backdrop of fighting just outside the fence. He wipes the spit off this face. “What you’re doing here is stupid. A total waste of time. This little Resistance of yours, is that what it’s called?” He looks around to the stone-faced Hybrids and gets no response. He shrugs. “Your Resistance is nothing against what the Director has created. You’re a speck on her windshield. A gnat buzzing in the face of a fast-moving society. One that has already begun to transform. You can’t stop this with a co

uple of tanks and a few rag-tag wannabe soldiers. Her ideas are bigger than this—than all of us.”

“Then kill us,” I say, pushing my shoulders back in defiance. “Put us out of our misery.”

His smug expression turns into one of resignation.

He reaches for my chin and rests a soft finger underneath. “Oh, if only I could. Someone else gets the glory of that job.”

He turns abruptly and stalks back over to Wyatt, who has fallen on his side. Hayes jerks him upright and he blinks. His eyes are unfocused and his movements lax. I’m not sure he even knows we’re here.

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