“Oh sh—” Cole’s cut off.
The Charger rams into our car, and we fly off the road and into a ditch.
Bodies, glass, blood, guns, and supplies collide. I squeeze my eyes closed, unable to focus on the melee surrounding me. I think I hear screaming. It sounds vaguely like my own voice. I grasp for anything to hang on to before we come to a rest upside down. The loud noise of an airbag inflating accentuates the madness.
Am I alive?
I inhale and wait for the blinding light people talk about seeing when they’re near death. I close my eyes and then open them again. I see nothing but the dingy red of the car intermingled with stark silence.
I reach out, feeling around for anything familiar. My hands hurt from the glass as I attempt to pull myself out from the wreckage. My vision’s cloudy, and every limb is marked with gashes. I stop and pick an inch-long piece of glass from my elbow, gritting my teeth as I pluck it out. All our stuff, backpacks, food, everything, is splayed out like a trail leading to us. I wince as I army crawl through the melee, unsure of where I am. My head feels thick with liquid, like it needs to be drained so I can remember who I am again. Cole? Where the hell is Cole?
I force myself to crawl away from the car and sit up. I glance around, looking left, looking right, and then left again. I see the guard’s dead body, half hanging out the back of our upside down car, but not Cole.
Where is he? God, please don’t take him from me. I wring my hair with my bloodied hands as I scan the area back and forth. He can’t be far. Sweat’s dribbling down my forehead, stinging my eyes, and I wipe it away. That’s when I catch a glimpse of his dark blue t-shirt.
He’s lying in the reeds, face down. I crawl closer to him. He’s motionless. No. Please no. Overwhelming fear jabs me like knives. I reach out to check his pulse.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
What is that?
“Don’t move,” a voice commands from behind me, instantly freezing my veins.
I swallow hard. My finger’s a breath away from Cole’s neck, but I have to pull back. I turn and face the guard, who points his gun at my head. His face hardens at the sight of me.
“Ah, jackpot.” I clench my jaw and narrow my eyes at him. “You’re gonna make me a very, very rich man.” He reaches with his left hand and grabs an old radio from his waist. “I’ve got a revolt member here. Branded blue. No doubt, it’s Lexi Hamilton.” He pauses as he examines me.
A female voice crackles back. “Have you interrogated her yet?”
“No, ma’am. I’m going to question her when I’ve got her in custody.”
I tighten every muscle in my body. I can’t let him take me. I won’t go back to the Hole. I can’t leave Cole. I glance between the guard and Cole’s motionless body, trying to form a plan, and fast.
“Are there any others with her?” she asks.
“Just one other, but he’s already dead. I’ll throw his body in the trunk.”
“What about Patton?” she asks with hesitance. The guard pauses, takes a deep breath while his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.
“This isn’t news you should hear over the com.” He pauses again. “But neither he nor any of the others survived the chase. I’m so sorry; I know how much you loved him.” At first, there’s no response, and the line seems dead. Then I hear it crackle loudly, and a female voice cries in the background as a new male voice speaks.
“Bring that whore in.”
“Yes, sir.”
I shake my head. No. The guard squints at me and lowers his radio while keeping his gun trained on my head.
“All this time on the run for what? You’re going home now, Lexi Hamilton. It’s time to go back home.”
In that split second, Cole rolls over and shoots the guard in the chest twice. A thick, dark red liquid begins to saturate the guard’s uniform shirt, and he drops to the ground, crumbling into a heap. The radio clatters next to his feet with static pouring out before Cole crawls over and turns it off.
I’m not sure what I’m more relieved about: Cole waking up or Cole waking up and killing that guard who was about to take me back to the Hole. Tears burst from my eyes, pouring over my cheekbones and onto my bloody, sweaty, disgusting shirt.
“I thought you were dead.” Cole grabs my face with both hands and kisses me.
“I thought I made it clear, I’m not gonna leave you. Ever!”
His desperate lips meet mine with force, as if reassuring me that he’s real and he’s alive. Then he wraps his arms around me and crushes me to his chest while we’re on our knees.
“I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” He kisses my forehead.
“Back there, I hesitated—”