The Defectors (Defectors Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF Page A

winter set in.  
    I ran until the light that fanned through the canopy of trees was a faint velvety blue. I’d only made it twelve miles, but I thought that was decent for such a late start. Trying to put as much distance as possible between myself and the PMC, I had waited too long to stop. Darkness was coming quickly now, and I would not have much time to settle in for the night.
    I chose a small grove of trees overlooking the trail to make my temporary camp. Higher ground provided a good vantage point to see carriers coming before they got too close. I pulled out our map and smoothed it out on the rough carpet of dead leaves. It didn’t show any creeks nearby, and it was too dark to go exploring. I would have to ration the water I had left in my canteen.
    I began to feel a steady hum of panic in my chest. I’d been in the dark woods plenty of times, but never alone. My hands shook as I unzipped my pack, and I had the sudden realization that I didn’t know what I was doing. Earlier that day, Greyson had been arrested, I had run from the PMC, and I’d smashed a car window. Maybe I had gone off the deep end. I wondered if succumbing to basic survival instincts made everyone feel this crazy.
      As I made my bed, I kept looking over my shoulder and squinting through the darkness for any carriers that might be lurking in the shadows. Now that I was no longer running, every snapping twig and cracking branch made me jump. I gathered some dry leaves to stuff under my thin sleeping bag for a makeshift mattress and looked in my pack for something to eat.  
    I didn’t want to build a fire that might attract carriers, and food that didn’t require cooking left me very few options. Throat still itching with thirst, the salty nuts and jerky seemed pretty unappealing, but I knew some protein would help my muscles recover. The food wasn’t very satisfying. I still felt empty inside from dehydration.  
    It was completely dark by now. The rush of wind through the leaves and the sound of an owl not too far off did nothing to ease my comfort as I settled into my sleeping bag. I tried to breathe deeply and count each breath to relax. I told myself I needed to rest to regain my strength for the next day, but it was impossible. I didn’t like the idea of closing my eyes in the darkness unprotected and alone in the forest.  
    Just as my heart rate returned to normal and my careful breaths began to slow, I heard a distinct crunch of leaves coming from the direction of the trail. My neck tightened, and I swallowed back a yelp. Someone or something was crashing through the underbrush, but there were multiple distinct patterns to the cadence. As the sounds grew louder, I realized there had to be more than one thing.
    I held my breath, not daring to move. The footfalls were much too heavy to belong to any deer, and no human with any sense would be making that much racket, for fear of attracting carriers. That left only one possibility.
    I listened, straining to hear beyond the thunderous pounding of my own heart.
    Sure enough, I could make out the ragged intake of breath from sick, infected lungs clotted with mucus. They were close — just below my camp and down on the trail. A pack of carriers was on the move.
    They couldn’t know I was there. If they did, they would be running toward me to tear me apart. They saw me as a threat, and their only instinct was to kill.
    My thoughts went to the food in my pack. Could they smell it? I didn’t think carriers had a heightened sense of smell, but I had heard so much about them on the news that carriers almost didn’t seem real to me. Not the ones that looked like zombies with the oozing sores and decaying flesh, anyway. Not until now.  
    There was a heavy, putrid stench of death on the air — sickness and decay that wasn’t natural. It was the smell of rotten garbage and raw, rancid meat.
    They continued to crash through the leaves on the side of the trail — maybe looking for a small