A few feet behind us, a thunderous explosion radiates, propelling all of us onto our faces. Burning, ripping heat feels like it’s melting my skin. Am I alive? I’ve landed on my chest. My hands are curled into balls. My pack’s gone. My gun’s gone. Everything’s dusty, blurry, charred metal and jagged edges. I open my hand and feel fur. A tongue works its way up my arm. Zeus is okay. A hand hooks under my arm and pulls me to my feet. In the haze, Cole’s mouth is moving, but my ears are ringing so loudly I can’t hear him.
Moments pass. “Go!” he’s yelling. I try to focus on his face. Behind him is a burning ball of metal and carnage, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away. I want to cry and scream and kick. I want to fight back. I want to crawl into a ball. I want to go home.
Cole screams and points in the direction of the train. There’s an enormous hole in the side of the railcar; shredded metal peels outward like the petals of a blackened flower in bloom. I stagger, the realization weighting me down. They just blew up the car we were in, all those other people. Cole shoves me forward, then drags me along at a cripplingly slow pace.
So much for needing me alive.
I struggle to keep up as my legs betray me, my knees wobble, and my hands tremor. Where is Bruno? Grace? Thick smoke, flames, and dust hide them from my view. Feeling around my waist, I remember my gun has been lost in the blast. Up ahead is hell, and we are running straight into it. My dad’s words echo in my head. You can survive anything, short of death.
We’re almost in the main rail yard. Its overarching, dark green metal beams and roof make it stand out on the horizon. Inside, it looks dark. For once, I welcome the darkness. I whisper a prayer as I run on lead feet. Please let Bruno and Grace be alive. Please let Sutton survive long enough for us to reach him. And for the love of all that’s holy, please help us stay alive.
Cole makes his way over the tracks. I can tell his familiarity with the Hole has kicked in because his movements seem to come with ease. He looks so natural weaving in and out and over the tracks that brought us here, almost like he belongs. I push these dark thoughts to the back of my mind and try to focus. The rail yard is dark, but the sun blazes over our heads, slicing through the haze that threatens to drown us. I ignore the sweat trickling down my skin.
It’s insane that I never noticed any of this when he drove me to the Hole the first time. I was so fixated on the walls and the commander’s quarters that I completely missed the intricate setup of the rail system right outside the main entrance. And because I was never assigned a job outside the Hole, like many of the other Sinners, I never had occasion to take it all in. Until now.
“Umph!” Air rushes from Cole’s lips as a guard hits him from the right side, out of nowhere, knocking him to the ground. My breath catches in my throat. They struggle for control, writhing around in the dirt. Zeus jumps to Cole’s aid, snarling ferociously and biting the guard’s leg.
Without a second thought to my own safety, I whip out my knife and move forward. And then I feel the hard, metal barrel of a gun pinned at the side of my head. Holy hell! Where’d that come from?
“Hands in the air where I can see them,” a voice says in a demanding tone. I slowly begin raising my hands, wondering if he’s seen my knife. I need to move fast. I close my eyes briefly, listening to the melee.
“Faster,” he says. He pushes the gun harder against my temple. I grimace. “Hey, drop the—” Before he can finish, I position my right arm behind his gun and slam it forward.
The gun fires an inch away from my face. It burns. My head vibrates with a horribly loud and unbearable ringing. But then my training kicks in. With lightning speed, I elbow him in the face. He drops his gun, stumbles a few steps back, and lets out a groan. Blood runs across and down his lips. When he raises his hands to his nose, I stomp on his foot. He buckles forward. Then, just before he has a chance to dive for his gun, I shove the knife into his gut, deep, past the layers of his bulletproof vest.
The sickening sound of puncturing human flesh makes my stomach roil. But I had no other choice; it was either him or me. As I push his bumbling body away from me, his face registers shock. His eyes loosely focus on mine and start to glaze over. He slowly loses consciousness and falls to the ground with a thud at the same time a single shot is fired from where Cole and the guard wrestle. And then silence. I can’t hear anything. And for a moment, I don’t know if Cole is alive.
I franticly move in his direction, disoriented. I follow the blood-splatter pattern, silently praying that he’s okay. That Zeus is okay.
When I lay eyes on him, he’s winded, standing, and wiping his hands on his clothing. Blood smears the fabric of his shirt and pants as his chest heaves rapidly up and down. He picks up his gun and that of the guard who lies at his feet.
“Oh my God, I thought you were dead … I couldn’t see you.”
“Nope, like I told you before, I’m not going to die,” Cole says, pulling me into a quick hug. He picks up his shredded pack and then pets Zeus on the head. “Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.” Cole turns his attention back to the supplies that have fallen out. I quickly join him in picking up whatever I can save. Zeus sniffs at the dead bodies, and I call him away.