The Dead Zone (Book One)

Chapter 9

 Bryson ripped the plastic cover of the steering column away, tossing it at Paige's feet. It clattered noisily onto the asphalt, making her jump. It was her job to keep watch while Bryson hot-wired a stranded car they'd found a couple of miles down the road. It was dark enough that even if the enemy was watching from their post at the metal strips of doom, they couldn't be seen. They were using the cover of darkness to their advantage.

To sum things up, Bryson's idea was, to say the least, crazy. So crazy that it just might work, in fact. But she had to admit to herself that she was more than a little nervous. Several scraping sounds reached her through the darkness as Bryson attempted to hot-wire the car. He'd mentioned something about picking the ignition with a screwdriver- hopefully Zach's skills had rubbed off on him. 

 She instantly wished she'd spent more time learning from Zach instead of letting him do all the work. What a great skill that would be to have at a time like this! The car hummed to life and she swallowed hard. It was show time. Bryson sat in the driver's seat, giving her a look that made her heart jump around in her rib cage more than adrenaline and fear ever could.

 She kissed him then, not the soft kisses he'd given her in the car; no, she kissed him with everything she had, forcing his mouth open with her own. She gave him a kiss to remember. For all she knew, they wouldn't be walking away from this; neither of them had any idea what the future held. He was breathless when she pulled away. 

 "You remember the plan?" She nodded, feeling the weight of his bow and arrows strapped to her back. She didn't say anything else as she jogged back to the woods, back to their hiding spot by the car graveyard. She didn't want him to hear the fear in her voice. She had ten minutes to get into position and ready to fire. She could do this. Bryson had faith in her. 

I can do this.

 Climbing up the nearest tree, she had a birds eye view of the multitude of wrecked cars that lay scattered throughout the ditch, shiny metal corpses glinting ominously in the moonlight. From the road, the wreckage wasn't even visible. Nobody would ever see it coming if they didn't know what to look for. They certainly hadn't seen it coming.

 She pulled Bryson's bow around, nocking an arrow as she rested it on a branch for support, aiming for the wreckage. She was told not to fire until the enemy ran out into the open. If things went right for once, they could take them all out at the same time. 

 She heard the hum of an engine approaching, the car a dark blur under the cover of the night. The lights were off, making the driver invisible, which is exactly what they'd wanted. The car picked up speed and she tightened her grip on the bow, despite her sweating palms. Please let the car stay straight! She prayed, unable to look away as the car hit the spikes, doing a somersault in the air as it soared toward the junk graveyard. 

 The sound of metal smashing into metal was horrendous as the car arched down, its whole front end crumpling. It had barely had time to stop rolling when ten sets of flashlights accompanied by frenzied shouts rushed forward out of the woods on the opposite side of the road. This was it! It was happening! She couldn't actually see the people, but their flashlights gave them away.

Aiming at the nearest one, she let her arrow fly. Even from her post in the trees, she heard a dull thud followed by a cry as her arrow made its mark. She released another volley, several of the flashlights dropping down. Bullets pelted the trees around her as they opened fire, but it was useless as they were unsure where their attacker was hidden. They soon began to retreat as they realized what was happening, but it was too late. Bryson sped toward the group in a second car, driving on the shoulder and into the dirt to avoid the metal spikes. He flipped on the headlights, illuminating the figures below. There were only four left after her assault.

  Bryson kicked open the drivers door, hopping behind the car for cover, pulling out his own gun. Bullets embedded themselves in the side of the car with loud metallic thuds as they fired at him. She heard four distinctive pops mixed in with the mayhem; from Bryson's gun, she knew, and then silence rang out almost deafeningly. Bryson had worked quickly, as if these strangers were no match for him. Which they probably weren't, she concluded, watching the way he moved with a fluid grace and agility.

  Bryson was deadly, a viper, always with the potential to strike and kill if given a reason to, never missing his mark. She climbed down quickly, rough bark scraping her palms before running to meet him by their junked car. They needed those bags, then they needed to get the hell out of here. The noise from their struggle had probably attracted more attention than they wanted; living, or dead. Bryson already had his and Zach's bags strapped to his back when she reached him, yanking hers out of the front seat, careful not to cut herself on broken glass or protruding metal.

 Hand in hand they ran, away from the destruction and blood. Into the woods, on the other side of the road, toward wherever it may be that Zach was taken. They had achieved a small victory tonight, but now the enemy knew they were out here and they weren't going down without a fight. They wouldn't keep running. They'd made a terrible mistake letting her and Bryson go after taking one of their own. Whenever they found where Zach was, and were able to strike next, the enemy would be prepared. And that realization scared the hell out of her.