“You shot him,” she said, numb.
“Yes. Come on, we’ve to go. Now!”
He took Elle’s arm and dragged her away from Tomas’s lifeless body. After a few seconds, Elle regained control of her emotions and yanked her arm out of Jay’s grip.
“Where did you get a gun?” she snapped.
“I’ve had one the whole time,” Jay grinned.
“You’re an idiot.” She shot him a sideways glance. “Thanks.”
Jay laughed. Elle didn’t know how to respond.
It had been ages since she’d heard laughter.
So she tucked her head, holstered her gun, and the three of them followed the flood of escapees into the night, disappearing into the darkness of Klan territory.
Chapter Eight
Elle wasn’t born into killing, she was thrown into it. She had been the daughter of an actress and a man who owned an organic health store. Her fifteen year-old brother had been a violinist. And Elle? She was a gymnastics competitor and a martial arts enthusiast. She didn’t start off as a survivor… but maybe, in some strange way, she had been preparing for life after Day Zero since she was born.
Martial arts, gymnastics, survival skills. These are things that had saved her life in the city. Things that a lot of people didn’t know or couldn’t pull off.
She was lucky, and she knew it.
Elle, Jay and Flash ran through the night. They had become separated from Georgia and Pix when the Pits had erupted into total chaos. The flames from the explosive diesel tanks had spread to the trees and the grass. It was eating away at the park, and the Klan was scrambling to contain the blaze.
Elle felt a rush of satisfaction.
Good, she thought. I hope the Pits are completely destroyed.
The prisoners that escaped from the cages were dispersing throughout the city. Some of them were recaptured by the Klan — but most of them got away. As they got farther away from the Pits, they slowed their pace. Elle’s muscles were burning, her throat was dry, and she was still shaken from facing down Tomas.
“That man,” Jay panted. “You knew him. You were a prisoner in the Pits.”
Elle said nothing. She didn’t need to.
“Why didn’t you just kill him?” he asked.
Elle grabbed Flash’s shoulder and pulled the younger child away from the corner of a building. She made sure it was clear, and they continued.
“I don’t know,” Elle replied.
“But you told Tomas that you had killed Klan members.”
Elle picked up the pace again. “Klan members don’t count as humans. They’re just shadows of who they used to be. So it can’t be murder.”
Jay didn’t reply.
“You don’t have to be defensive,” he said at last. “Nobody is judging you for killing in self defense… except for you.”
Elle blinked back tears. All her life, she had been the quiet child, the demure one. And now she was a hardened survivor, a girl who killed Klan members when she had to. She hated killing. Despised it.
But in this world, her options were slim.
Option A: Be killed.
Option B: Kill.
As soon as they were a couple of miles away from the Pits, they slowed their jog to a fast walk. There had been no sign of Georgia and Pix yet, and Flash was panicking. Elle told him to relax. They were going to be at the bakery — that was the plan, and Elle had seen Georgia and Pix escape during the chaos. They would be there.
It would be okay.
“So what were you?” Jay asked, adjusting his jacket.
“What was I?” Elle asked.
“Before everything happened. What were you?”
“I was just like everybody else,” she said. “I was just a kid.”
“But where are you from? Did you live in L.A. before…well, everything?”
“Beverly Hills,” Elle answered. “I was a freshman. Would have been a sophomore this year.” She sighed. “Too bad. I had plans.”
Jay grunted. “Tell me about it,” he murmured.
Elle saw Georgia out of the corner of her eye. Her long, thin frame was pressed against the brick siding of a building. Pix was clinging to her arm. They both looked terrified.
“Georgia,” Elle stated, nodding in her direction.
Flash surged forward, toward his sister. They embraced.
“You made it,” Pix said.
Georgia hugged Jay. He squeezed her back, and Elle wondered what it would be like to be hugged like that.
“Elle,” Georgia panted, “I’m sorry. I lost you in the rush, but I had to get Pix out of there.”
Elle shrugged it off. She felt awkward, watching everyone else embrace.
“Let’s get back to the bakery,” Elle said. “The Klan will be looking for us. Especially me.”
“Elle,” Pix whispered, tugging on her sleeve. “Thank you for coming for me.”
Elle cleared her throat. She wasn’t used to gratitude.
“Come on, let’s move,” she mumbled.
They followed her through the darkness. They didn’t speak until sunrise, when they reached the bakery. They pushed inside, exhausted. Elle collapsed on the floor, her back against the counter.
“I thought we’d never make it,” Georgia sighed, lying flat on her back. “God, what we just did was insane.”
“You should get out of the city,” Elle advised. “The Klan will look for you. And once they start hunting someone, they don’t stop. Ever.”
“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Jay replied. “They’ve been hunting you for a long time, haven’t they? You were a fighter in the Pits. That’s why you know so much about the Klan, and that’s how you knew where to find Pix.”
Elle slid her backpack off her shoulders. She was dead tired.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “I was a prisoner in the Pits.”
“And you escaped.”
The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Elle’s mouth.
“Yes,” she said.
“How did you do it?”
Elle drew a circle in the dust on the floor.
“I just waited for the right moment,” she answered. “The Klan is dangerous, but not all of them are smart. In fact, a lot of them are pretty stupid.” She pulled the sleeve of her jacket down. Her shoulder was black and blue, bruised. “Ouch.”
“Tomas did that to you,” Jay stated. “That looks painful.”
“It’s not bad.”
“How long were you in the Pits?”
Elle shook her head.
“I don’t know. Two months, maybe?” She shrugged. “It wasn’t that long after Day Zero. I came to the city, hoping to find my family. I got caught by the Klan instead. I’ve been here ever since.”
“If the Klan is hunting you,” Flash said carefully, “why don’t you leave the city?”
“Because I don’t know what’s out there,” Elle replied.
Jay and Georgia shared a secretive glance.
“What?” Elle demanded.
“In the bunker,” Jay answered, his tone even, “we had a radio. A ham radio. We had contact with some people before we left.”
“You had radio contact with other survivors?” Elle asked, bewildered.
“Yes. And militia groups. That’s how we kept track of what was happening in the outside world,” Georgia said. “The only reason we left the bunker was because we ran out of food and water.”
“Elle, you should leave the city,” Jay interjected. “Staying here is suicide.”
“Leaving is suicide. Omega is almost everywhere,” Elle pointed out.
“Sacramento is safe,” Pix said. She straightened her spine. “We heard it on the radio. That’s where we’re going. We’re trying to get there.”
“Sacramento is a long way from here, sunshine,” Elle deadpanned.