Chloe

The terrain has changed a significant amount since we left sector nine, and that was who knows how many miles back. Instead of flat or uneven flooring, a lot of this has a few hills and higher ridges for us to mount, and that means more weary eyes in case someone tries to spot us from a vantage point. There's rubble, less buildings, and more space—more greenery if anything, and that's a signal we're growing near to our location. Sector ten is in Summerland, and if I'm correct, it should be the last sector before the beach, and that's going to be a simple location.

I wouldn't be surprised if he has some gnarly defences at his disposal.

On another note, it's spitting with rain, so it's making our trek much harder, but we have our coats on, ready for any downpours that may sneak up on us.

"What's your plan after we deal with this Levi dude?" Brody queries as he leads me up the hill.

"I don't know, just find a small place to call home I guess." Drew looks toward us with a gentle smile. "What about the two of you?"

Brody glances down at me with a tender smile, curling his arm around my shoulders. "I think we have the same thing in mind."

Walking side by side with each other, as tense as our mission is, we still find the time to make light and find something to look forward to for after—like a new home, together. The thought of making a little home somewhere, especially with sharing it with Brody makes my heart turn all fuzzy. Cuddling up, seeing each other every waking moment, and the last second of the day before we sleep, nothing sounds better than that.

"Hey, Brody?"

"Yeah?"

When he looks down at me, a shaky breath passes my lips.

"When all this is over, I want to start a new with you . . . and I want to show you who my friends were."

His eyes widen before they turn warm and gentle as his thumb smooths the skin over my hand in reassurance. "You know you don't have to show me, or tell me anything you're not ready to yet, right? I can wait for as long as it takes."

Whispering a thank you, my hand instinctively goes to the picture, comforting the memory of them, and Brody softly squeezes my hand.

"Why don't you rummage through my bag and find a plastic wallet, just in case we wind up getting wet."

Smiling gratefully, I rummage through and slip the photo inside one and make sure it's sealed and repeat the process with Macey's book before—surprisingly—storing it inside his backpack.

"Don't you want to keep hold of it?" he asks softly.

My cheeks heat up. "I think you might be able to keep it safer than I would in these pockets, same with Macey's book."

His eyes swell with gratitude, and he pecks my temple lovingly.

"What's that?"

Snapping back to reality, my eyes follow the direction Drew's are pinpointed on. In the distance, there's something small huddled in the long, damp strands of grass. It doesn't move, nor does it look up at us when we inch closer.

"Is that a kid?" Brody whispers, and on a narrowed inspection, I can see where he got the assumption.

"I'm going to check it out," Drew informs, edging closer to where the figure's sat.

"Be careful," I call out in a hushed voice, following close behind him.

Brody has an arrow ready along with me as we watch from a few paces away, alert and unwavering. And when Drew leans down to the early teen, big blue eyes stare back up. She reminds me pf a scared kitten, and instinctively, I want to give her a hug, remembering what it's like to be young and fearful.

"Hey, what's going on?" Drew questions softly, helping her to her feet.

"My friends . . ." she whispers, training her eyes on him.

"Did they leave you?" His eyes scan the area, but there isn't anything.

"They're coming for you." Then she screams and lunges.

Drew reels back with a hiss as his hand clutches his side, legs staggering momentarily until Brody steadies him. Firing my arrow, it flies pass the boys and strikes her in the chest, her blonde curls flailing around before she hits the floor with an audible thud.

"Drew, are you OK?" I ask, gripping his side.

She nailed him pretty good.

Brody makes a move to shrug off his backpack until something whooshes through the air and burrows into the ground a few inches from our feet.

"No time, we need to move. Now."

So, we do. Drew manages to keep pace with us as we hop grabbing roots and clinging branch limbs that do whatever they can do to snag us on our passing. Hollers and hoots echo in the background, screaming after us as their manmade spears chase us through the air. The thwack from them connecting with the trees, scraping the earth, and narrowly missing our heads is enough for us to pump our limbs—

A wretched howl tears through our surroundings, and it's been guaranteed we're not going to be the only ones running for our lives.

Risking a glance, bodies fly through the air, blood spraying like guizers, heads rolling like balls, and limbs flail lifelessly with each motion, the screams cutting off one by one. Then the deranged gaze fixates on us, the lanky form not wasting a second before bounding after us.

"Bestial!" I shout, and it makes us move even faster, weaving in and out of trees, using the clusters to slow it down.

The earth beneath my shous slouch as it dampens, and then it turns slippery, but we keep our speed while the Bestial slips on its turnings like Bambi on ice.

Over my ragged breaths, a scream brings my feet to a skidding halt, and Brody instantly does the same. We fire at it as a distraction while it's claws slash at the flesh of Drew's stomach, then his back when he attempts to scramble away with the help of our arrows and bullets. Then a belt of agony hits us when the gangly jaws clamp around Drew's ankle, solely focusing on him.

"Go, get out of here!" he yells, turning to punch it repeatedly in the snout.

"Drew, we can't—"

"I'm done for, you can still make it, go! Don't let that son of a bitch get away!" he wails, fending off the slender claws grappling at his chest. "Please!"

With a heavy heart, Brody and I nod in a promise before racing off in the opposite direction. Our ragged breaths can be heard over the pounding of our feet against the earth, the squelching trying to put us off doesn't succeed. And just like that, the hefty footfalls of our pursuer return full throttle.

"We can't outrun it!" I yell to Brody, who's frantically scanning our surroundings.

"Do you trust me?" he calls back in the same tone.

"Yes!"

Taking his extended hand, we swerve off course and run full sprint, and angered snarl growing closer to our heels. As soon as my eyes land on the reason why Brody chose to dart this way, every fibre in my being wants to jam up and refuse this idiotic plan.

"If we survive, I'm going to kill you!"

"I love you too!"

And with that, we fling ourselves over the edge, a furious howl calling after us as we plummet through the air.

Gasping for breath as soon as I breach the surface, the first thing my mind clicks on is Brody.

Where is he?

"Brody!" I call, chocking on the water trying to flood into my mouth, the saltiness drying up my throat. "B-Brody, where are you?"

It stings my eyes, blurring my vision relentlessly. Swivelling three hundred and sixty degrees, there's no sign of him, shore is barely in sight, but that's not what I want. The debate of him already being on land verses what if he wasn't. The real equation being for me to risk leaving him out here or trying my luck to see if he's on land.

Shit.

The energy in my limbs is draining fast, and if I remain, then I'm not going to be strong enough to hold myself above level let alone search for him. Gritting my teeth, my legs kick while my arms sweep, yet the distance doesn't seem to shrink.

"Chloe!"

Spinning around, barely holding my head up, Brody's handsome silhouette comes into view. Heaving for breath, my hand outstretches for him as my head goes under. Instantly, I'm hauled out and placed on a table's worth of wood. Coughing and spurting, he rubs my back and holds me close to his chest.

"Brody, are you OK?" I whisper, clutching him dearly.

"I'm sorry darling . . . it was the only plan I could think of," he sighs, pecking my hair.

"How did you know the water was there?"

"As cliché as it sounds, I could hear the sea."

"It called to you," I rephrase.

He chuckles and gives me a gentle squeeze.

Brody strokes my cheek before telling me to hold on as he climbs back into the water and begins to kick. In record time, we're back on shore, and just like we assumed, no sign of infected. It would be dead silent if it weren't for the waves, and Brody looks annoyed as he inspects his guns.

"I'm going to assume these bad boys aren't going to work. While they dry out, it looks like we're going to have to use our old fists until we can steal some weapons from him," he grins, looking unphased.

"I think it should even the odds," I comment, and his grin is so bright that if this wasn't a serious moment, I'd have tears in my eyes.

Placing a lingering kiss on my head, he takes my hand and we set off. Although I can't take my eyes off the gun in his waistband and the shot gun slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, if they're ruined, why are you bringing them?"

"These guys have got me through thick and thin until I met you, I want to see if there's any use for them afterward," he explains sheepishly, and I can't help but laugh.

Of course, he does, this is Brody after all.

"So, we have that piece of wood, floating off to a remote island isn't going to be impossible after all." His brows begin to wiggle, and I playfully hit his chest. "Ow, hey, watch it. I'm bruising, remember?"

"You still need to make up for that stunt," I remind him.

A seductive grin plays on his lips. "Don't worry darling, I haven't forgotten."

If it weren't for us being near the lion's den, I would pull him down and fool around in the sand.