"Don't you dare lay a finger on him."
"I'm sorry."
Jack presses the barrel of the gun harder against Jeremy's head, his arm tight around his neck. Noah begins to cry.
"Give back my brother..." He sobs and my heart aches to hold him, though the gun point situation was too tricky for me to move around under.
Jack's expression is tight, a certain sadness flashing in his eyes that I can't identity quick enough. Jeremy begins to hyperventilate and I stand up from the wheat, though Jack takes a step back holding him closer.
"Stop right there. Don't come any closer, or I'll shoot."
I narrow my eyes.
"You wouldn't. All this time you could've shot us all, but you didn't. You need us. Why?" I growl. Jeremy's eyes flicker from the gun then back to me, tears dwelling close to the edge. Jack only sighs and points the gun at Noah.
"Noah, get up." He orders. Noah wipes the snot from his nose with his sleeve and whimpers, rising slowly and then quickly running behind me. Jack points the gun on me.
"Start walking."
I search his face, his posture, his actions for some kind of explanation, but find none.
"Why are you doing this?"
Jack only turns the gun back to Jeremy.
"I said walk."
"Give me Jeremy." I hiss. We enter a staring contest, and I never waver my glare. He sighs again and shoves Jeremy forward and he runs to me, crying into my shirt. I hold the two boys close, squeezing them tight.
"It's alright." I say over and over, though I know it isn't. We are going to be killed and it's my fault.
As always.
It's as if danger is attracted to our little family.
"Walk." Jack says a little louder than last time and we do. Out of the field of golden wheat and back into the forest. He stays a few feet behind us with the gun trained on my head and we march to our deaths. Retracing our steps, back to the alley, then into the broken city. The zombies are less and less here now, too many shot down by Jack's people. I urge the boys forward as they grow weary, telling them innocent stories, wiping away their tears. I don't mind to talk aloud now, even in the presence of Jack, because they need to hear my voice. The innocent children of the apocalypse, ruined forever.
Soon we reach our destination; an abandoned factory. I look around as Jack whips out a key, unlocking the fence surrounding the building. Watch towers stand at the four corners of the land, snipers peeking out of the square windows at their peaks. Jack nudges us forward, watching the gunmen carefully.
"Why is it that you need us to join your survival group so bad?" I ask as we are forced forward, tightening my grip on Noah's and Jeremy's hands. Jack seems more jumpy, more nervous now as the factory doors open ahead of us.
"You're not joining."
A rush of adrenaline pumps through my veins as I watch him mouth those three words, fear emerging from the back of my mind. My head whips forward as we are shoved through the doors and into the factory, Jack now lagging behind.
This is a trap.
Wires hang loosely from the ceiling, sparks emitting from their ends. Fires burn on revolving belts carrying nothing, assembly lines broken down, the machinery now useless. The factory has been converted to a base, survivors huddling around fires and boxes, some looking at us with scared expressions, others with more smug ones. Something odd strikes me about them, though. Some of the survivors are missing limbs.
A few large men, bulky with guns slung across their backs, march forward toward us.
"Hands." One of them grumbles. I look at them strangely and the man who spoke sighs.
"Put up your hands." He orders fiercely, looking at the three of us with narrowed eyes. Slowly I put my hands out and Jeremy and Noah do the same. He explains them before nodding to us and the army behind him goes mobile. My hands fly back down and grab the boys, but two men are already on me.
They grab my arms and pull me along, others doing the same to the boys. Our hands are quickly pulled apart, causing me to shout furiously. They are carrying them away from me. The looks Jeremy and Noah give me are terrifying and tears leap to my eyes.
"You let them go!" I scream, struggling against them and dragging my feet across the ground. The expressionless men mechanically respond by lifting my feet off the ground. I scream more and wiggle in their grips, throwing my head to look over my shoulder to yell to the boys, but my tongue get's caught in my throat.
Jack is standing in between the doors where we entered, frowning.
I'm sorry, He mouths.
A door opens to the right of him and out comes a little boy that runs into his legs, hugging him, and Jack kneels down smiling. More men, the ones from the group that I'd met before, follow after the boy out of the door with crossed arms and smug grins. They pat Jack proudly on the back, extolling him with light hearted laughter.
No...
No, no, no, no!
This can't be happening.
The memory of Jack's face when Noah had wailed for his older brother flashes across my mind.
I kick and scream more, straining for Noah and Jeremy, though I know they had already been dragged out of sight. A burlap sack is placed over my head, my vision obscured and darkness consuming me.
I fight for freedom, I scream for mercy, I beg for forgiveness.
This wasn't a trap.
This was an exchange.
Secret nine:
In this world, it's eat or be eaten.