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Authors: Emily Goodwin

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BOOK: Deathly Contagious
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Moving slowly, we crouched our way around the greenhouses, which were all empty. The back of each greenhouse had a large, garage-style door that would manually be lifted and lowered. Thinking it would be good to keep our cars hidden we moved the truck and the SUV inside and closed the door.

We laid down and army crawled through the tall grass. My body hummed with adrenaline. The prison was surrounded by two rows of twelve foot fencing with rolls of barbed wire at the top. Looking through the scope of my rifle, I could see a man with a gun walking the perimeter. He walked briskly down the fence, looked around, and walked just as quickly back into the jail.

“If we can get closer we can shoot him,” I whispered.

“I can shoot him from here,” Hayden told me. “I just can’t see him anymore.”

“Look,” Ivan said quietly. “There’s a dry irrigation ditch. It goes around the prison. If we use it, we can see what it’s like on the other side.”

“Ok,” Hayden said. “Let’s do it.”

He went first, making sure the coast really was clear. Once in the ditch, he waved us in. We moved in twos, with Brock covering the rear. It was harder than I ever imagined to crawl along the ditch while holding my weapons and keeping an eye out for enemies. My heart beat faster and faster. Sweat rolled down my forehead.

I was right behind Hayden. He would occasionally stop and risk a look above us. We crawled, stopped, looked, and continued. The ditch started to curve. It was full of weeds, bugs, and rocks. My hands burned but I didn’t have time to even think about the pain.

Hayden looked up and then flattened himself to the ground. Taking the hint I did too. My breath left my lungs, seeming like a dead giveaway to where we were hiding. I took a deep breath and held it. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart.

After what felt like eternity, Hayden looked up again and began moving forward. We rounded the curve and came into contact with a patch of thistles. Hayden stopped, tried to find a way around and ended up having to go through.

Stupidly, I hadn’t put long sleeves on over my tank top. I remembered the bullet hitting Hayden, feeling his warm blood splatter my face. It filled me with rage and I didn’t notice the horrible sting of the thistles as much as I would have otherwise.

The ditch leveled out and trees spotted the otherwise barren landscape. The fence continued around the prison but there was no place for inmates to be. We emerged from the ditch and hid behind the trees.

Blood dripped down Hayden’s forearm, staining his sleeves. Careful not to be seen from the other side, I crawled over to him and pushed up the sleeve.

“It’s ok,” he whispered. “Just cut it on a rock.”

I nodded and brushed the blood away with my fingers. The cut was small and he wasn’t going to bleed to death by any means. But even little cuts can get infected. We regrouped, trying to decide on a plan of action.

A deep ditch—much like our moats—had been dug. It had to be at least twelve feet deep and ten feet wide. A backhoe sat on the other side of the ditch, teasing us. If only we had one of those, I thought bitterly. An obviously handmade bridge had been cast across.

“We need to get across,” Hayden whispered. “I’ll go first.” Swiftly, he moved to the bridge. He only got a few feet onto it when the wood snapped. His foot fell through and I almost called out. I put my hand over my mouth and tried to rush over. Ivan grabbed my wrist and shook his head.

Hayden yanked his foot out of the weak wood and tried again. The boards creaked and groaned under his weight. Another snapped, causing him to fall backward. He retreated, shaking his head.

“It won’t hold,” he said bitterly.

“You’re too heavy,” I told him. “But me…I might not be.”

“Orissa, no,” he instantly disagreed.

“Hayden, we have to see what’s over there. I’ll just go across and come right back, ok?”

His eyes locked into mine, pleading me not to go without him.

“I’m the lightest one,” I told him.

“I’m not much heavier,” Rider spoke up. “I’ll go with her.”

Wide eyed, Hayden stared at me. Ivan nodded and Hayden snapped out of his daze. “Ok. But come right back,” he told us.

“We will.”

Rider and I ran to the bridge. I went first; it creaked under my weight but didn’t snap. I waited behind a tree while Rider crossed it. Taking a defensive crouch, we ran through several yards of trees, going downhill and out of Hayden’s sight.

It never occurred to me to look up until it was too late. Someone jumped down, landing hard on my back. I fell forward and the wind got knocked out of me. Another launched himself down at Rider. Rider dodged out of the way and rolled to my side. He kicked the guy on top of me hard in the ribs. The guy cried out and pulled a gun from his side.

“No!” I shouted. I struggled to get my own weapon. The other guy was faster. My fingers closed on my knife right as the shot rang out. Birds took flight, the flapping of their wings echoing off the trees. Rider fell to his knees, his hands on his stomach. Blood pooled around his fingers.

“No!” I screamed again. I closed my hand around the knife and sprang up. “Rider!” I cried, rushing over to him. Tears blurred my vision.

“Riss,” he muttered and started coughing. Blood bubbled from his lips.

I crawled to him, crying. He reached out for me and just as our fingers touched, I was jerked away. I swung my hand around and made contact with who ever had a handful of my hair. He yelled in pain and kicked me in the back, his foot hitting my kidney.

I thrashed forward, desperately wanting to get away and get to Rider. I raised my hand again and brought the point of the knife down on the guy’s foot.

“Dumb bitch,” he said and grabbed my wrist. The guy who shot Rider walked over. He laughed when he saw me struggling.

“This one seems like fun,” he said and kicked the knife from my hand.

“I will kill you both!” I threatened. I elbowed the guy who was holding me in the ribs and brought my foot up to smash his balls. His grip on my hair loosened and I was able to pull away. The other guy leaned in to grab me. I reached behind me to get the M9 but it wasn’t there. It must have fallen out when the bastard landed on me.

I didn’t have time to get the M16 from around my neck. Something stuck me in the back of the head. Stunned, I wavered. Then I felt a heavy blow to my knees, causing me to fall. I made one last attempt to get to Rider, who was coughing and gurgling up blood.

“I’m sorry,” I cried. My fingers closed around his. He gave them one last squeeze. I made a mad grab for his pistol. I grabbed it, aimed at my attacker and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. Unlike me, Rider was smart and kept his safety on. From behind, someone kicked me in the side and then kicked the pistol out of my hands. He raised his foot and it came crashing down on my ribs. A horrible, biting, sharp pain flooded my body. It hurt so badly I could barely breathe.

Hands harshly grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me back, dragging me over the rough ground. I cried out in protest and in pain when another blow came to my ribcage. Heavy, rough hands gripped my arms.

The guy who attacked Rider picked up my pistol and hit me in the temple. My vision was fuzzy and blood dripped in my face. I struggled to get away, trying to twist and sink my fingernails into my attacker’s skin.

I couldn’t get my feet to work properly. I was a couple yards away from Rider now. I reached up and dug my nails into the guys arm.

“Ah!” he yelled. I heard the familiar sound of a magazine sliding in a gun. The guy stopped dragging me. I felt a bone shattering pain in the back of my head.

And then everything went black.

 

 

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