Текст книги "State of Chaos"
Автор книги: Summer Lane
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 11 страниц)
Because we’ve walked right into a trap.
I spot Derek’s group going head to head with an Omega patrol. Men and women are knocked to the ground. Shot, knifed, kicked, smashed, punched. The end product is always death. The adrenaline rush I’ve been expecting finally hits me, but it’s tainted with horror. All around me our soldiers are being slaughtered. Omega troopers are boxing us in from all sides. They were waiting for us. Watching us as we approached the building.
How could they have known we were coming tonight?
There’s a spy in your camp, my gut tells me.
I crawl through the grass, following Chris’s lead. We need to reach cover, otherwise we’re going to die. Period. We finally get to Derek’s group, but the only cover we have here is the tall grass.
These open fields are lethal.
I take out my gun, but I don’t even have time to use it. An Omega trooper fires at me from twenty feet away, but I see him moving. I duck out of the way and hit the ground, bringing the gun into my shoulder. Powered with superhuman levels of adrenaline and desperation, I sight him, squeeze the trigger, and take him out. Just like that.
I stay right there on the ground, hidden in the shadows, taking out as many troopers as I can until it’s impossible for me to stay in the same place anymore. One of our militiamen accidentally steps on my back, leaving a muddy footprint on the rear panel of my jacket. Yeah. Time to move and stick to maneuvers I know inside and out: Shoot, move and communicate.
Chris is fighting next to Max. Both of them are using every weapon at their disposal, everything from guns to their fists. But Omega keeps coming. They continue to swarm out of the hills like grasshoppers. It’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen – and I’ve seen some pretty scary stuff since the EMP went down. Sophia literally crashes into me, running at full speed out of the woods. We both tumble to the ground and I look up, my eyes landing on her pursuer, an Omega trooper. I spring to my feet, knock his rifle sideways and kick him hard in the gut. He bends forward, the air rushing out of his lungs. I slam the stock of my rifle across his head and he rolls to the ground, scrambling awkwardly for his weapon. I don’t mess around. This is life or death. I take my rifle, squeeze the trigger and land a close range shot to his chest. He’s so close to me that I actually feel a spray of hot blood splatter across my cheeks as he falls backwards, dead on the ground.
Sophia grabs my arm.
“I can’t find Alexander,” she says, covered in sweat. “I think he’s hurt.”
I meet her gaze.
“Are you serious?”
“Retreat!” Max yells. “Fall back! Rally point One!”
That’s just another way of saying, “We’re screwed. Run for your lives.”
But there’s nowhere to retreat. Omega’s got us surrounded. We’re closed in on all sides. The militiamen that have been pushed back to the supply depot are being caught in the land mines and IEDs set up by the Omega troopers. A few militiamen find themselves cornered against the warehouse. One sweep of an automatic weapon is all it takes to kill all of them in less than three seconds.
Just when I think things can’t get any worse, I’m blinded with white light. Sophia and I shield our faces, confused. What the heck is this? A UFO invasion? Are aliens finally taking over the planet?
I wouldn’t be surprised. Please, take it. There’s not much left.
My eyes adjust and I focus in on the source of the light. Floodlights. Omega is firing up their backup generators and powering floodlights on top of the depot, shooting the beams of light into the fields. Making it easier for them to pick us off. My heart sticks in my throat.
We really are dead.
But wait. I spot a familiar figure standing on the edge of the depot. A flash of dark hair. A tall, muscular frame. He’s kneeling on the ground. Alexander Ramos. He’s watching the proceedings as blood runs down the side of his neck. He’s wounded. Badly. I find myself moving towards him, stopping only to look back and make sure Chris and Sophia are still alive. They are, and they’re putting up a valiant fight, but a wall of Omega troopers are pushing our militia farther and farther back. There won’t be any escape once they reach that point.
I stop and stare at Alexander. He looks at me. We don’t say anything. A brief thought flashes through my head: He’s a good soldier. He’s just a little rough around the edges. He looks at me like I’m the most annoying thing on planet earth – which is debatable, given the situation – and shakes his head. “Get out of here,” he hisses, clutching his shoulder. Blood is oozing down his shirt. “Now.”
“Let me help you,” I stutter, shocked at his appearance.
“Just keep moving,” he commands, wincing. And then, “Please.”
I don’t hesitate.
As I’m working my way across the field, I see someone else. Harry Lydell. He’s standing motionless next to an Omega vehicle on the other side of the property, a safe distance away from the battlefield. He’s unarmed, watching everything with catlike curiosity, and something about that really bothers me. I stalk towards him, my weapon raised.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
“You really are stupid,” he says, pronouncing every word like it’s part of a British play. He’s staring down the barrel of my rifle. “You walked right into this.”
“You?” I gape at him. “You betrayed us?”
“Cassidy, I was never with you in the first place.” His eyes shift to the right and then snap back to me. “I’ve been with Omega the whole time. Since day one.”
“But the militia gave you your freedom,” I say, shocked. “They saved you from Omega.”
“No. Omega gave me my freedom. I’ve been spying on you since that first day I started working with you in the fields.” A twisted smile crawls across his face. “When I was liberated by the militia, it made things difficult. It took a long time to get back in contact with my commander.”
“You’re really disgusting, you know that?” I spit.
“Oh, I know. Don’t flatter me, Cassidy.”
“You do realize I’m pointing a gun at your head, right?”
“You won’t kill me.” He chuckles. “You have trouble killing people you have a relationship with.”
“My relationship with you is non-existent. You know what? Maybe I’ll save everybody the trouble—”
I never get to finish my sentence, which is sad, because I was just getting to the best part. Something knocks me sideways and I hit the ground with an unattractive thud. A fiery pain explodes just below my ribcage. I look down and press my hand against my side. I lift my hand up, horrified to see my palm dripping in blood.
I’ve been shot.
I kneel on the ground, too scared for the pain to sink in…yet. Harry stands there and observes me. Like a specimen in a cage. He takes a few steps forward and grabs my rifle before I can even think to react, effectively disarming me. I tilt my head up, clutching my stomach, focusing in on a pair of knee-high leather boots. I follow the boots up to a pair of dark pants, a jacket and a familiar face.
“Kamaneva,” I state, trembling.
She doesn’t say anything. She only raises an eyebrow, casually holding the gun in her hand that just landed a whopper to my side. There’s too much going on around me for the realization of all that’s happened to really hit home. I’m frozen. You could wrap me up in a blanket and throw me in a freezer and I’d be oblivious to it. I can’t move.
“Well done, Harry,” Kamaneva says, her voice emotionless. “As for you, Cassidy: Nice try.”
If I could feel my stomach, I’m sure it would be churning with anxiety right about now. But the bottom half of my body is going numb, and with it, so is my brain. Everything’s getting fuzzy. Not even my adrenaline rush is going to keep me awake for long.
Or alive.
Desperation sets in. Kamaneva is trying to kill me…again. I slowly move my bloody, sweaty hand towards my belt, leaning forward enough to hide the movement. “They’re all as good as dead,” Harry says, looking at Kamaneva. “They’re completely boxed in.”
“You of all people should know that our militia can get out of this,” I reply, gritting my teeth. The pain train is pulling into the station. “You’ve seen us fight before.”
“Actually, I haven’t. I was always left behind at camp. Nobody trusted me.” He flashes a wicked smile. “Rightfully so.”
“Traitor.”
Yeah. That’s the worst insult I can dream up right now. Because Kamaneva’s going to blow my brains out in about five seconds and I have to move fast. I close my fingers around the hilt of Jeff’s knife hidden in my boot, pull it out of its sheath, and snap it forward, flinging it at Kamaneva’s chest. She deftly steps aside and it grazes her arm. It gives me the split second I need to make my move. I jump up and make a mad dash back towards the battlefield. Back towards Chris. I run in a zig-zag pattern, throwing off Kamaneva’s shots. I can barely hold myself upright, because when I do, the world starts spinning and I begin losing my balance. I’m guessing that has something to do with the shock of a bullet entering my body. To say nothing of rapid blood loss.
This is not my best day. Or night.
“Chris!” I shout.
Our militiamen are actually pushing back against the Omega troops, forcing them towards the center of the field, cutting a hole in their lines. It’s turned into an all out bloodbath. Soldiers are fighting hand to hand, tackling each other, jamming knives into each other’s throats. I turn away from the gut-wrenching scene and find Chris in the thick of the battlefield. There’s no way he can see me.
I make a desperate attempt to find cover, lunging behind an overturned vehicle. There’s not much left of it besides a charred frame and some twisted metal, but it’ll do. Kamaneva is still behind me, and I’m not in the mood to come face to face with one of her guns again. The third time is so not the charm.
I crawl on my hands and knees, bullets hitting the metal on some of the cars, zipping just over my head. I scramble to the other side of the car and claw my way into the tall grass, blinking back tears of pain. My body feels like it’s on fire, which can’t be a good sign. I stumble upon a dead Omega soldier. His handgun is lying next to him. I pick it up and manage to climb to my feet, staggering far enough into the field to take cover behind a tree, pressing my back against the trunk. I spot Kamaneva. She’s no more than thirty feet away, trying to figure out a way to get to me without putting herself in the direct line of the fire from the battleground.
She glares at me and starts firing in my direction. I shift my position and make sure the tree shields my entire body. I’m safe for now, but not forever. I look at the gun in my hand, wondering if there’s any ammo left in it. The battle is raging around me. An Omega trooper appears out of the grass and spots me. I react without thinking, snapping a round to his chest.
Yeah. There’s ammo in it.
That’s the second guy I’ve shot at close range today. I swallow the nausea and turn my attention to Kamaneva. What I really need to do is kill her, just like every other Omega soldier. I lift the gun, sighting her. It’s not hard. She’s exposing herself in order to reach me, and that will be the death of her.
But my hands are shaking and I’m having a hard time keeping the sights in the middle of her chest. I adjust the weapon, getting mad at myself. I’m clutching my side with one hand, blood pouring between my fingers. The gun wavers in my other.
Just do it, I think. This woman is evil. She doesn’t deserve mercy.
Right?
A split second of hesitation is just about the worst thing you can do in the middle of a fight. Kamaneva ducks out of sight, disappearing into the tall grass. I lose her and keep a tight grip on my handgun, unable to stand by myself. All I’ve got left is the gun in my hand – and the ammo that’s left inside it. Once I run out, I’m dead.
Kamaneva crawls out of the grass, slathered in mud and grime. She’s filthy, and there’s an expression on her face that can only be described as possessed. “Dead,” she hisses.
I’m not sure whom she’s referring to. Herself, her daughter, or me.
Probably all three.
“You’re about to be,” I mutter.
She jerks backwards and hits the ground, her hand to her chest. I blink, memories resurfacing of Kamaneva getting shot by Max the last time she tried to kill me. And now red blood is blossoming in the center of her chest, getting bigger by the second. She gasps and stares at me in horror, coughing. Blood trickles out of the corner of her mouth.
She begins to say something – maybe it’s something important, maybe not – but before she can get it out my attention is drawn to the right. A tall man walks out of the bushes. A militiaman dressed in dark brown camouflage with a broad rim hat pulled down over his forehead. His face is covered with a standard face scarf. He looks down at Kamaneva, kicking her weapon aside with his foot. He says nothing.
“Thank you,” I say.
He turns to me and nods, and that’s when I notice the white star etched into the sleeve of his jacket. It’s a pretty crude depiction, but the shape is distinct. I force myself to my feet. “You’re a Mountain Ranger,” I realize.
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice has a southern twang. “And you’re a Freedom Fighter.”
“That’s debatable, but yeah,” I say. “How are you here?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. He drops to one knee.
“We got a tip,” he replies. “And the boss said to come running.”
I turn back to look at the hills. The yelling and gunfire has kicked up a notch and my anonymous Mountain Ranger friend disappears into the battle, leaving me alone with a dying Kamaneva. She’s sputtering for air, turning to the side, trying to spit out the blood pooling in her mouth. Harry has vanished.
I kneel next to her, too wired and wounded to find a boatload of sympathy for a woman who murdered hundreds – possibly thousands – of innocent men, women and children. And yet I still whisper,” I’m sorry.” She looks at me with wide, frightened eyes. “I really am.” An expression of disbelief crosses her face before she stares into the distance, her eyes going glassy.
Kamaneva is dead.
“Cassie!” Chris bursts out of the grass, grabbing my arm. It takes him about two seconds to assess the situation. He looks at Kamaneva. He looks at me. “You’ve been shot.” His expression tightens and he wraps an arm under my shoulders, dragging me away from the field.
“Where are we going?” I ask, clinging to him for dear life. My energy level is draining away. “Chris? Now is not the time to take a grand tour of this place!”
“We’re losing, Cassie,” he replies, moving behind the same vehicle I just took cover under a few minutes ago. “You need to get inside the warehouse and stay safe.”
He pulls back my jacket and lifts up my shirt, looking at my gunshot wound. His face betrays no emotion, but I can tell by the way he’s clutching the material that whatever he’s thinking doesn’t have anything to do with positivity.
“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” I state. “There’s nothing you can do.”
“No.” He takes my face between his hands. “You are not going to die.”
Another Mountain Ranger appears from the grass, distinguishable by his broad rim hat and white star on the sleeve of his jacket. “Chris…” I mutter. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”
He doesn’t let go of me, but he flicks his gaze towards the battlefield. A human wave of Mountain Rangers are pouring over the side of the hill, opening fire on Omega. Smoke is blanketing the entire field. Mortar rounds explode, sending bits of rock, glass and twisted metal into the air. The constant roar of automatic gunfire permeates the air. The strong smell of gunpowder and burning vegetation is heavy.
“Who gave them the tip?” I wonder, awed.
Chris doesn’t answer. Does it matter? Backup has arrived.
“Just stay with me,” Chris commands. There’s a hint of desperation in his voice. I lean forward and kiss him, tasting sweat and smoke against his mouth. He holds me with a death grip, breaking the kiss only when it’s absolutely necessary. Both of us are breathing hard.
“Oh, that’s a lovely sight. I’m going to gag now.”
I snap my head around at the sound of a familiar voice. Chris’s brother, Jeff, is standing behind us, decked out in full combat garb, his chest heaving with every breath. “Really, that was dramatic and touching,” he gasps. “But no worries. The Mountain Rangers are here now.”
“You’re supposed to be guarding the camp,” Chris growls. “How did you even…?” And then he drops it. Just like that. There’s a lot to explain, and sitting in the middle of the battlefield behind a broken car with a girl that’s just been shot isn’t the best place to have a heart-to-heart chat.
“Go,” I urge, fighting to take a deep breath. “You need to be a leader right now. You can’t do that if you’re sitting around in the mud with me.”
“Cassie, I won’t leave you.”
“You’re not. Jeff is here.” I touch the side of his face with my hand. “I love you.”
Jeff kneels down next to me, nodding at his brother.
Chris squares his jaw and kisses me one more time.
“Keep her safe,” he tells Jeff. It’s not a request. He stands up and ducks into the tall grass, making his way back towards the battle zone. It’s almost impossible to hear anything over the piercing noise of all the fighting, but I make an attempt to figure out the situation anyway.
“How did you get here?” I ask Jeff.
“Mountain Rangers came into camp about an hour after you left.” He shrugs. “They wanted to help us fight after all. So I brought them.”
I purse my lips.
“Thank you,” I say. “You got here in just in time.”
Jeff takes a look at my wound and makes an effort to stop the bleeding, packing it with combat gauze, wrapping a tight bandage around my waist. He hands me a bottle of water and a couple of pills from a medical kit. I take a long drink and choke the pills down, gagging a few times in the process. Feeling faint, I put my head between my legs to try to stabilize the rush of blood from my brain. Jeff loosens my gear and tries to give me room to breathe. My body is going into shock and I need to keep it under control, otherwise I’ll end up dead. Not cool.
A few minutes – or maybe it’s a few hours – later, Sophia shows up, bruised and bloody. But she’s still walking, which is a fairly positive sign. “We’re pulling out,” she pants. “Now.” And then she sees my bloody shirt. “Oh, my god. Cassidy, what happened?”
“Kamaneva,” I reply, trembling with the effort of staying conscious.
“She’s here?”
“Was.”
“Are you serious?” She helps Jeff haul me to my feet, and I lean heavily against him for support. My limbs are getting stiff. “I can’t believe it.”
“I can.” I start coughing. “Jeff, be careful. Watch for mortar rounds.”
We pull back into the side of the hill, putting distance between ourselves and the depot. Omega is coming towards us like a dark tide, killing everything in its path. Even with the extra Mountain Rangers filling the field, we’re still being forced backwards.
Chris finds us in the midst of the chaos, grabbing me around the waist and holding me to his chest. He pushes me halfway behind his back, protecting me with his body as we retreat. And as we do, my eyes fall on the wide expanse of the battlefield. The white smoke has turned black, shrouding the scene. The open space is crawling with Omega troopers. And then the line stops, and our side is suddenly pushing back against Omega. It’s the most vicious game of tug-of-war on planet earth. One side surges against the other. More people drop. Another surge. Another round of gunfire. More dying.
“Look!” Jeff exclaims, pointing.
Mountain Rangers are coming from behind the Omega troopers, pushing their way across the field, closing them in on two sides. What’s left of our forces is joining with them, initiating Chris’s backup plan. Rangers and Freedom Fighters form a ring around Omega’s men, dropping to the ground, firing from hidden vantage points. Omega is completely surrounded, and what’s more, they’re being fired on from every direction. As they move forward, our forces move backwards, and the rest of the Freedom Fighters just follow. Omega troops are trapped inside of a giant circle of fire – and they panic.
The Omega soldiers are scattering, confused. Running for their lives. There’s no mistaking the terror in their voices as they scream frantic orders to their men, trying to stay alive as the fire rains down on them from all directions. And here I am on the sidelines, contributing to the firefight, taking out one trooper at a time with my commandeered pistol despite my gunshot wound. Alexander Ramos staggers through the madness, making his way towards us. He stumbles and falls. Chris moves to help him, but he’s beaten to it by a Mountain Ranger. This one has an eagle feather in his hat – the only deviation from the standard broad rim hat I’ve been seeing on the Rangers all night. He puts his arm under Alexander’s shoulders and drags him through the firefight to the sidelines, not far away from my position.
The Omega troopers are scattered and on the run. Our forces are left with an opening to retreat, so we move out. Our men move back into the side of the hill, firing on the enemy as we pull away.
Our forces retreat to the other side of the mountain as the Rangers take care of business down below in the field, drawing what’s left of Omega’s forces away from our depleted ranks. Our trucks are close. If we can just reach them, we can get the wounded back to camp before it’s too late. We’ve already lost so many soldiers, though…
“Cassie, stay with me,” Chris says, shaking my shoulders. “Come on.”
I’m zoning out. I feel the cool metal of the pickup truck under my fingers and make a monumental effort to focus my vision. Our troops are piling onto the pickup beds as fast as they can, hauling the wounded along with them. I guess I’m one of them. Chris lifts me into his arms and lays me across the seat in the cab, gunning the engine. I close my eyes, licking the blood off my lips.
That’s attractive.
A few seconds pass. Orders are exchanged. Chris floors it. We take off into the night, leaving the battlefield. But it’s not over yet. Omega patrols are out in full force, sweeping the highways and combing through the underbrush. And where do we go? If Harry betrayed us to Omega, doesn’t that mean he told them where our camp was? Are the Youngs and the rest of the camp being raided by Omega troopers right now? How can we go back?
I have so many questions.
“Alright, up we go…” Chris pulls me into a sitting position, pressing his hand against my side. Something breaks in his voice. “Don’t let go, Cassie.”
Jeff is standing on the running board outside the door. He helps pull me out of the cab.
“What are we doing?” I ask, dizzy.
“We have to hoof it,” Chris replies. “The roads are blocked. Too many patrols.”
“It’s too far,” I say.
“We can do it.”
Well, they can. I’ll just curl up in a ball and die right here, thank you very much. Yet something in the back of my mind says: Don’t let go. Don’t give up. I force myself to keep my eyes open as Chris supports me with his body. I feel like I’m inside out. I’m hot, lightheaded. Everything is too loud and too fast.
What I would give to pick up the phone and call 9-1-1.
“Alpha One?” somebody calls for Chris.
A patrol is moving towards us from across the road. The gunfire from the battlefield is still audible from the other side of the hill. Our troops fall into formation to stop the patrol. My heart sinks. There’s no escape, is there?
“Hey, are you Alpha One?”
Chris turns. A platoon of Rangers are moving towards us from across the road. The Mountain Ranger with the feather in his cap is approaching Chris at the front of the group, his rifle in his hands. His face is obscured behind a scarf, and the only thing distinguishable about his appearance is his eyes.
“Eagle One?” Chris asks.
“At your service.”
Eagle One. The codename for the leader of the Mountain Rangers? It has to be. Looks like Chris is going to get his pow-wow after all. I sag against him, the energy draining out of me like helium out of a balloon. I can’t go any farther. I just can’t.
“Cassidy?” Eagle One takes a step towards us. Chris tenses, ready to defend me. An explosion of automatic gunfire deafens the world around us. The moon is shining brightly against the dark sky, illuminating the foothills, making everything look like a different planet. Or maybe I’m just getting delusional.
“Cassidy Hart,” Eagle One says, the voice familiar through the haze of pain. He’s pulling off his scarf, moving towards me. Chris moves me behind him, taking a defensive stance. Eagle One drops his rifle to the ground and opens his arms up, the scarf rolled up in his hands.
A wave of shock ripples through me. My eyes focus long enough to recognize his face. It’s him. Familiar brown eyes, laugh lines around the mouth, a military haircut under the broad rim hat. It can’t be. I have to be hallucinating.
I stare, openmouthed, only able to form a single word:
“Dad?”
I reach out to him just as the world around me starts to spin.
Everything goes black.
