Page 35 of Faith Among Monsters

Doc coughs, clutching his throat as he leans against the wall. “You think it’s just me? Just Sinclair?” He shakes his head, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “It’s bigger than us. Bigger than this shit hole. We’re not the only test site.”

My blood goes cold.

“Let’s hope we’re the only one this fucking reckless,” I grind out.

Before I can think better of it, I grab him by the head and twist.

The snap of his neck is quick, clean. His body crumples to the floor in a heap, lifeless.

I should’ve let one of those monsters take him. Let him feel what he’s done to the rest of us. But that’d be one more for us to deal with, and we’re already drowning.

I stare down at his body for a long moment, fury and disgust rolling through me.

Bioweapons. Fucking bioweapons.

A sharp crack breaks through the haze in my head. Gunfire.

Of course.

I whip around, drawing my gun and heading straight for the hallway where I left Faith. My pulse hammers as I move, my boots thudding hard against the blood-slick floor.

I know Wilkes. For all his rough edges, he’s steady. Decent as any of us, uniform or not. But he can’t protect her from what’s coming. Not alone.

Half the inmates.The thought burns through me like a damn wildfire. Half the population on this rock is infected, either already dead and walking or just waiting to turn.

Faith’s face flashes in my mind. Her sharp eyes, her soft hands gripping that knife, her scent clinging to me after I carried her through hell.

She can’t be here when this place goes under.

She’s mine to protect.

Another gunshot echoes, followed by shouting.

We’re going to need every goddamn gun, guard, and inmate not already dead or infected to hold the line.

I don’t take chances as I make my way to Faith.

I shoot anything that moves wrong, looks wrong, and doesn’t talk to me.

Doesn’t matter if they had my back this morning. Doesn’t matter if they were the ones who split their rations with me or helped me keep the peace in the yard. They’re not coming back from this.

They’ll get back up, sure. But not if I put a bullet in their heads first.

The only mission now is getting Faith off this rock.

That, and killing Sinclair.

The sound of gunfire echoes down the hall, sharp and relentless. My boots skid across the blood-slicked floor as I move, every sense on high alert. My plan forms as I go: survivefirst, then consolidate. Weapons, survivors, and a lockdown to get some fucking control.

I kill my way to the sound of the shots, my movements quick, mechanical. Bullet to the head. Move on.

When I round the corner, my gun snaps up automatically, locking onto the figures ahead.

Wilkes.

Faith.

Her back is pressed to him, her arms raised defensively as she covers their rear. Her face is smeared with dirt and sweat, her hair a mess, but her grip on the gun is steady.

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