Liberated

  As I tug his body through the lightly accumulating snow, the guards perched on the wall around us open up with heavier guns. Screams echo throughout the stage area, and people sprint away. Wilson makes exaggerated motions trying to instruct the guards. Good. Whatever keeps him distracted. Checking over my shoulder, I notice the Sinners aren’t the target, though. The guards aren’t aiming at them. All of their guns are pointed at the sky, and Wilson’s signaling his troops furiously.

  Could it be Bruno? Or something bad—something worse?

  With renewed energy, I grasp Sutton’s shirt and continue dragging him toward the edge of the stage, where the stairs are, in hopes of finding my father there. But when I spot him, I realize he hasn’t moved. And how could he? He’s surrounded by bewildered guards, and by the looks on their faces, they’re confused by the mayhem, too.

  My father turns and sees me with Sutton. He signals for me to keep going. I shake my head. But he waves me on. I’m split in two. One half’s with Sutton, and the other half with my dad.

  Crap. I stop for a minute, searching for another way. My breaths echo in my ears, blowing out hot steam in front of my face. I know what I have to do, because I’m my father’s daughter and I’ve always listened to him. If staying with Sutton is what he wants me to do, I’ll do it. I decide to shield Sutton beside the stage, so with my last burst of energy, I pull him to the edge. Then I hop down and tug him with me. His body slams into mine with a thud, and he screams. Tears leak out the corners of my eyes.

  “Hang on, just a little longer,” I croak. I roll him onto his back and try to cover his body with my own. I cradle his head in my lap while I catch my breath and gather my thoughts for my next move.

  A thunderous sound approaches, coming upon us fast. The guards on the wall load RPGs. Whatever is coming is almost here. My nerves jump, and my body ignites with excitement, a rush of anxiety and energy all at once.

  Are they fighting Wilson and his guards? Or are they targeting everyone?

  “It’s almost over—I think Bruno’s here,” I whisper to Sutton, even though I’m not sure. I gently place his head on the ground and scoot next to him. I grasp his hand in my own, and he gives me a weak squeeze back. Just then, a helicopter passes over the wall so low that dust and snowflakes fly up in a whirlwind around us. I taste it in my mouth, wet and bland. Sutton’s eyes flutter, and he smiles like he knows something I don’t.

  Where did that come from? That can’t be Bruno.

  “Open fire!” Wilson’s screaming over the noise. “Take it down!” But his men have already opened up with everything they have. Their fifty-caliber machine guns never cease their steady rhythm. An RPG rockets into the sky, missing the helicopter by inches.

  Another helicopter flies over us, and then another follows, their massive, camouflage bodies hovering over the main road. Sinners dart away from the alien forces and roaring noise. Ropes drop down from helicopters, one by one. A flurry of rotors and the smell of smoke fill the thick air. Wilson’s attention is completely occupied by this invasion.

  I can’t tear my eyes away from the invading forces and their uniforms, but the air’s too thick with snowflakes and whirling dirt for me to catch the detailing on them. I hover over Sutton, trying to block him from the worst of it.

  “Attack!” Wilson commands as men begin fast-roping from the helicopters, dropping like little spiders on silken threads.

  A guard points a rocket-propelled grenade at one of the helicopters. With a whooshing sound, it finds its mark, resulting in a fiery explosion and a helicopter quickly spinning out of control down into the street. The rotors hit the ground, making an eerie, high-pitched metallic scream until they can no longer move. Smoke billows upward, but other helicopters quickly take its place in spite of the carnage. Unfamiliar soldiers take up positions around the aircraft, taking down guards looking to get inside.

  Some of the Sinners have disappeared completely, but others begin fighting the guards. It becomes all-out warfare around the stage and main gate, with the Sinners and guards engaged, as well as the new soldiers picking off guards with their high-tech equipment.

  My thoughts turn to my father on the stage, and when I peek at him, he’s kicking and shoving his guards, attempting to free himself. He creates enough of a diversion that none of the guards are paying attention to the Sinners creeping up on them, or to Sutton and me on the ground. But his captors push back, one of them punching him in the stomach. He doubles over, air escaping from his lungs, and I flinch with anger. And pray for a miracle.

  He’s so selfless, even when facing death.

  I use my body like a blanket to protect Sutton from the crossfire, but what he needs more is a medic. There’s a thick trail of blood mapping out our path. My hands are stained red, and my thin shirt drips fresh blood. Panic flares within me as bullets fly over us, one so close it nips my shoulder. I need to get him out of here and get him assistance, but how can I do that when so many forces battle for control?

  “Go,” Sutton mouths.

  “Never,” I say firmly. His sea foam-green eyes plead with me, but I shake my head stubbornly. “Bite me.” Still, fear and doubt bubble up within me as Sutton’s blood loss continues. I decide I need to act fast. I use my knife to slice off my pants just below the knee. I tear Sutton’s shirt down the middle and search for the bullet wound, wiping away the warm blood with my hands. My breath catches in my throat when I see how close the hole is to his heart. I use the cloth and apply pressure to the hole. Sutton groans, and his eyes roll back into his head.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” I say. “Sutton, keep your eyes open.”

  “Okay,” he mumbles. “They’re open.” He gives me a weak smile. I lean down and kiss his cheek, and he reaches up and pats my head. Suddenly, the noise softens. Not the chaos that encircles us … just the few small feet where I’m with Sutton. I take the opportunity to talk while applying all the pressure I can.

  “Why would you do that?” I cry into his ear. “You took a bullet for me—why?”

  “Because. You’re my daughter, whom I love,” he says softly. “And that’s what a father does. We sacrifice everything to protect our children.”

  I choke on my emotions. “I love you, too. You know that, right?”

  “I do.”

  “Thank you. For saving my life.”

  “You’re welcome.” He inhales sharply. “I’d do it again.”

  A splitting scream draws my attention. I whip my head around, and I’m shocked to see Bruno throw off the hood of his brown sweatshirt. Oh my God, they came! I want to cry tears of joy as the others rip off disguises and begin wreaking havoc on the guards near the stage. Genesis, Gabe, and even James take part. Bill smiles at me, crooked teeth and all, before moving into the fray. He lights a flare, and it shoots up into the sky.

  “Rain down manna, Jesus!” he shouts.

  More helicopters rush in, this time dropping supplies. Hope begins to flood my soul. The dust clouds thin for a moment, and I notice the symbol of the United Powers painted on the helicopters, the blue and white cross with the olive branch stretched through the middle.

  I don’t believe it. Why would they come?

  A familiar bark diverts my thoughts. Hope rises up like a balloon, and anticipation builds while my heart thunders in my chest. Then I see him. His hackles are raised and his teeth are bared as he sprints around the corner and plants himself next to me in a defensive position.

  “Zeus!” I squeal with happiness, and he gives me one quick, sloppy lick. “Boy, am I glad to see you.”

  “Kill her!” Wilson screams, as if just now noticing where I huddle with Sutton.

  An alerted guard meets my stare. His hand flicks to the trigger of his gun as he charges toward me. I might not be able to fight, but Zeus growls and lunges at him, toppling him before the man can shoot. After one bite to his neck, he’s dead. Zeus brings his head up, and his snout’s soaked with bright-red blood.

  All around us is a sea of uniforms and
flesh clashing and battling for control. Meanwhile, Sutton’s bleeding out, and my father’s being beaten with batons. He’s on his knees, coughing blood. Doesn’t anyone notice?

  “My dad. Help him!” My hands shake with rage.

  This isn’t how a rescue is supposed to look. Just when I’m about to scream, a man wearing a dark hoodie, the hood pulled up over his head, shoots three of the guards surrounding my dad and then subdues the last guard, stripping him of his weapons and throwing him off the stage. Lifeless. He puts his arm around my father’s waist, giving him strength, and helps him down the steps and through the melee. My father turns toward the hooded stranger, and I watch as the fear in Dad’s eyes melts away. He cocks his head, and his expression relaxes, as if something the stranger said put him at ease.

  I sigh with relief.

  My dad’s safe.

  The resistance member walks my father over to where I sit with Sutton. He carries himself with confidence, his form somewhat familiar. Maybe he was in one of our groups? Zeus doesn’t question him or make a move to protect me against him. My father stumbles beside me, coughing more blood, but alive. I put my arm over him, tearing up with relief. He’s here. Next to me. “Thank you,” I say to the stranger.

  He doesn’t speak. Instead, he kneels beside me and lifts his hood.

  “How?” I shriek. I cover my mouth with my hands to muffle the hideous sounds flying out of my mouth. The black paint smeared on his face can’t disguise him now, and my heart surges with joy and shock all at once. “Cole?” I ask desperately.

  “Hey, you,” he says. My pulse quickens when I hear his voice. The very voice I was certain I’d never hear again.

  “You were shot.” I shake my head. “You died. Right in front of me.” My voice breaks as he closes the gap between our kneeling bodies, embracing me so tightly I can barely breathe. “And Wilson told me your body was burned—”

  “Of course he did. He’s Wilson.”

  “How did you survive?”

  “My main man, Bruno, being the excellent marksman he is, shot the guard behind me, straight through his head. Luckily, he was taller than me. It was his blood, not mine,” he explains. “And when he toppled over, I went down with him. Needless to say, I played dead, until Zeus bit my ass.” As he talks, he surveys the surrounding area.

  “Cole …” I can hardly speak. “Losing you was the—”

  “Shhh.” He brushes his thumb across my lips. “It’s okay. I’m here. I told you I keep my promises.” He kisses my forehead and then drops his head toward Sutton.

  “He took the bullet,” I tell him. “The one that was meant to kill me.”

  Cole jumps to his feet. “I’ll find a Corpsman.” Worry lines embed themselves in his forehead.

  “No,” Sutton croaks. “My boy, come here.”

  “I won’t be long,” Cole replies.

  “Come. Here.”

  Cole’s shoulders drop and kneels down, looking completely defeated. Sutton reaches up, takes Cole’s head between his hands, and takes a slow, deep breath.

  “You … have made me … so proud.” Sutton’s eyes pool with tears as Cole sniffs and wipes his nose. “It’s been an honor, watching you grow into the man you are today.” Sutton’s chin trembles. “I can’t thank you enough for keeping Lexi safe, and for risking your life trying to save mine. I love you, my son.” Cole’s entire body shakes, and he sobs uncontrollably. Sutton cries with him as he brings Cole’s face to his and places a kiss on his head.

  A gasp of anguish escapes Cole’s mouth before he says, “I am who I am because you believed in me, and gave me a chance I didn’t deserve. Thank you for teaching me what true sacrifice means.” Cole takes a second to gather himself. “You’ve been a father to me, and for that, I can never repay you.”

  “You already have.”

  Cole sits back on his heels and covers his face with his hands as he cries. I ache with sorrow watching two men I love break down.

  My father has his moment with Sutton, who is like his brother, and I turn away. It’s too much for me to handle right now.

  In the background, the noise fades away. Bruno’s people, along with the United Powers forces, gain ground all around us. Guards are seen running from the area, their black uniforms chased by blue ones. Bodies litter the street, blood trickles through the snow, and smoke drifts upward from adjoining alleyways. My heart sings with the destruction of Wilson’s guards and the invasion of the United Powers, who begin scouring buildings and imprisoning anyone with weapons.

  “Lexi,” Sutton croaks. I spin around as his green eyes begin to glaze over. He coughs, and his face contorts into deep creases of agony. My dad stands and takes a few steps away from us.

  “You. Are. Not. Dying. Do you hear me?” I shake my head. “You wouldn’t let me die, and I’m not letting you die, either.”

  “Lexi.”

  “No!” He grasps my arm, digging his fingers into my muscles.

  “You must listen to me, and inform your father right away.” His face is losing color by the second, lifting away like water evaporating. “I lied. Your blood was positive.”

  Did he just say my blood? Positive? Positive for what?

  “What? I’m infected?” I ask Sutton. He stares toward the clouds, his pupils fixed and dilated. “Sutton!”

  I slap his face. Nothing.

  I’m in shock and disbelief. But before I have time to absorb what just happened, a voice breaks into my thoughts.

  “Attention: I am General Xiang Nami of the United Powers. We’ve come to conduct an investigation on behalf of our members. If you come peacefully, we will only detain you shortly, and then you will receive rations. If you attempt to fight us, you will be taken prisoner. You will be allowed to leave the Hole as you are deemed a civilian, a non-offending official, and/or a non-infected person. There will be evaluations, assessments, treatments, and education for all Sinners. We must make sure you’re deemed safe for civilian living before you’re released. If you don’t meet the requirements, you will be transferred to rehabilitation centers where they will help you achieve the required level of safety. From here on out, the Commander’s quarters, laboratory, and the transformation center are off-limits to all but those we see fit to inhabit them. I repeat …”

  The announcement blares over and over again, but my eyes don’t leave Sutton’s face, even with the words sounding like music to my ears. Around us, Sinners cheer and sing. Bodies lie in the streets, a helicopter’s smoldering remains has smashed up two buildings, and the snow keeps falling. More choppers invade the air above the Hole, dropping supplies and soldiers.

  How could Sutton not live to see this? It’s not fair. The one who dreamt it and led us didn’t get to witness it come true.

  My insides turn to ash.

  I have everything and nothing all at once.

  “Sutton, come back,” I cry as I shake his shoulders, trying to bring him back to me. “Come on. You did it, we did it, and they actually came for us. So you have to open your eyes and get up. Please. Wake up. Get up.” I shake him vigorously and bargain with God at the same time.

  He’s deserves to live. He deserves more than this ending.

  “Lexi, stop,” Cole says. “He’s gone.”

  “No, he’s not!”

  But he is. My brain knows he’s gone and there’s nothing I can do. NOTHING! Once again, my brain and my heart go to war; my brain knows he’s dead, but my soul, my heart, and my humanity refuse to surrender. Unfortunately, with the ones I’ve loved and lost before, my brain always won. And I’m wishing, just once, my heart would declare victory.

  I stop shaking him. “This isn’t fair. I just got you back.” I take his stiff, cold hands in mine, my skin tingling against his, and kiss them both, because these hands saved my life … These fingers put me back together, time and time again. After placing his arms gently next to his fallen body, I rest my hands on top of his chest where his heart has stopped beating. The heart that loved me like a daughter, th
e heart that made sure I’d be protected in the Hole, and the heart that loved helping others. A pure heart of endless love … and a brave heart that never judged anyone. A heart that can never ever be replaced.

  “Please beat,” I whisper. “For me.” My vision blurs, and the tears flow unrestrained, pouring onto his face as I close his eyelids and kiss his cheek.

  We’re free.

  But Sutton is free in a different way. Just not the way I hoped for.

  He chose giving me life over living his own. He didn’t hesitate, not even a second before he protected my life with his body. He sacrificed everything he worked so hard for, so that I might still have a chance of surviving. Even if it’s just for a short time, he gave me the gift of having more days with my friends and family.

  Why am I so special? I don’t understand.

  It hits me in slow waves of exhaustion as I hold Sutton. I’m tired of being a fighter. I’m tired of all the pain and grief. I’m tired of trying to be strong. I’m scared to face my loved ones and have to tell them I’m dying. Sutton said my blood’s positive, and that means my life’s a ticking time bomb. There’s nothing anyone can do to save me now.

  My stomach twists, and I brush aside his hair and put my forehead against his. I can taste the salt from my tears on my lips. I smell the sulfur from the blood mixed with that sterile laboratory smell on his clothing. His face appears peaceful, the wrinkles finally going slack. His mouth is slightly parted, his lips so pale, they almost match the snowflakes.

  A hand rests on my shoulder blade, and I sit back on my heels. Cole’s kneeling beside me; his eyes are red and puffy. With Zeus at his side, he puts his hand on Sutton’s chest. Zeus whimpers and licks Sutton’s face.

  “He was a damn good man,” Cole says in a broken voice.

  “The best,” I say softly.

  “He loved you so much, Lexi.”

  “And he loved you, too.” He nods. “Cole—”

  “I know.” He allows me to lean into him as I sob. “It hurts like hell.”

  Sutton’s face calls into a shadow, and I glance up to see my father. His face falls, tears leaking over his carved-out cheekbones. He shakes his head in denial, grabbing Sutton’s hands as sobs wrack his body.