Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 4 | Books 10-12

by Lecter, Adrienne

  Oddly enough, if there hadn’t been a ramp and a dock filled with armed guards between us, I might have offered him my hand to shake. Or tried to clap him hard enough on the back to make him stagger. As it was, I had to leave it at a satisfied smile, hoping that I wasn’t reading his banter wrong. “Well, what can I say. That’s me in a nutshell.”

  Greene was the only one who laughed, but since I didn’t see a single familiar face down there besides his, I didn’t much care about the rest. Deep down I’d expected to see Gita there with him, but for now I had to hope that she was still alive and doing well. Maybe Burns would know—provided he was still alive and doing well, also, but I wouldn’t allow myself to consider that not being the case.

  “Where’s your worse half?” Greene asked, drawing my attention back to him.

  “Don’t you mean, better half?” I groused, just for the sake of it.

  “Nope,” Green told me succinctly. “Myths and old wives tales aside, I’ll never believe that you’re capable of outdoing the shit he’d already had sticking to him long before you even met.”

  I shrugged. “Apparently, I now cause civil wars without being present, or actually while being dead. I’d call that quite a feat, wouldn’t you say?” The two scavengers perked up at that, and a few of the traders—still lingering not to miss the show—looked downright disconcerted. I did my best to ignore all of them, keeping my attention on Greene.

  He begrudgingly inclined his head. “You do seem to have a skill to inspire people who have never met you to believe the worst of you. I can see it in those who have crossed your path but will always marvel at the rest.” He added a dramatic pause there but went on when no curious questions came from anyone. “I see you’re avoiding answering my question. I completely understand why. I should probably extend my condolences to you. Your husband may have deserved the reputation he had, but not the end he has likely met in the meantime. It’s been, what? Three weeks now?”

  I had to fight for composure for a second, the urge to come down that ramp and punch the answers right out of Greene so strong it almost overwhelmed me. It took me a few deep breaths to steady my voice to the point where I could ask instead. “What the fuck do you know?”

  Greene remained calm, but the always-present teasing quality disappeared from his tone. “Less than you do, presumably, but enough to draw the conclusions that you would have come to already if you weren’t, well, you. Nobody has ever gotten away from that camp after they got caught.”

  “I got away,” I pointed out.

  Greene cocked his head to the side, considering me for a moment. “I can guess why, going on your unusual combination of physical shortcomings and compensatory strengths. Consider yourself the one lucky exception. Nobody would have underestimated your husband like that. It pains me to say that, but I will miss him. In his own way, he was someone I always considered good to know he was still around, if maybe not for my personal health. If you’re here looking for support to go on another crusade, I have to disappoint you. We don’t have anyone to spare for fool’s errands.”

  “I’m not here to ask anything of you,” I clarified, pretending like his words didn’t make my heart sink. I didn’t allow myself to believe him—I simply couldn’t. “Except information, maybe, but since you already confirmed that you know nothing, I’m happy to take my leave. I’m just passing through.”

  “Not quite yet,” Greene offered, his attention skipping from me to something to my right—Richards, if I wasn’t completely oblivious. “You weren’t the one bargaining for passage, and you’re not the one who’s here on a mission.”

  I found Richards his usual calm self as he pulled something from his jacket pocket—a flash drive, I realized, surprised to see that one still existed, but probably shouldn’t have been. At Greene’s nod, one of his guards lowered his weapon and started up the ramp, accepting the device from Richards to hand to Greene once he was back on the dock. Greene didn’t even look at the drive before letting it disappear. He gave Richards a curt nod, and took a dramatic step to the side. “Must be something important you’ve got planned if you’re pulling some of your moles out,” he noted as he turned his head to look further down the dock, where a group of three men stood surrounded by the guards, looking none too happy—and neither did the people around them. I wouldn’t have picked out any of them as spies, and I didn’t seem to be the only one as one of the guards—a woman in her late twenties—visibly stiffened as they passed by her on their way to the ship.

  “You lying asshole!” she hissed after one of them—the rightmost, who was doing a shit job avoiding looking at her, his shoulders tense enough to make him look a bit like a turtle yearning to disappear into its shell.

  “Trish, it’s not what you think—” he tried to explain, halting momentarily, but one of the other guards quickly pushed him forward.

  The woman would have nothing of that. “It’s pretty obvious, wouldn’t you say? You’re dead to me! Don’t bother ever coming back!”

  He stopped again, briefly wrestling with the guard to get a few more seconds, but they pushed him forward—and a moment later, the woman had disappeared into the crowd of onlookers. The scavengers looked tempted to come after the small group, but thought better of it considering the guards were giving them pretty much the same looks as the apparent spies in their midst. I couldn’t help a wry smile as I turned to glance at Richards. “Must be a pretty good reason for you to play home-wrecker like that.”

  His expression didn’t give me much, but there was a brief spark of anger in his eyes. Interesting. “As I said before, we didn’t come here just to play taxi for you.” I knew that was all I was going to get out of him, so I didn’t ask. It was enough to see all the newcomers glare at me with enough venom to know they blamed me for having to leave their cozy little hideout here. They toned it down for Richards, but made no attempt to mingle with the other three soldiers, much to Hill’s amusement.

  “I presume that concludes our business here?” Richards called down to the docks, but that might have been addressed to anyone.

  Greene nodded, but rather than retreat himself, he started up the ramp, followed by a cluster of guards. I didn’t miss the obvious limp, his right leg not quite working as well as the left—a reminder of past conflicts, maybe? When he saw my surprise, he gave me a dazzling smile. “Oh, you thought I’d miss out on that happy reunion you have planned? Fat chance. That I need to see.”

  Since it wasn’t up to me—and I doubted anyone would ask for my opinion—I kept my mouth shut, stepping aside to let them all onto the ship. The guards fanned out except for two refrigerator-sized guys who remained glued to Greene, who seemed happy to remain right there next to Richards and me.

  “You shouldn’t have come,” Greene told me, his attention at the dock—and scavengers—below. “Things would have been so much easier if you’d remained gone.”

  “Easier for you?” I presumed, hard-pressed not to sound full of glee to have, once more, made a nuisance of myself.

  “For you,” Greene corrected, turning his attention to me. “The best thing you ever did was drop off the face of the earth after the rumors started that winter. I thought you’d gotten that message.”

  “We did. But seeing as I’m short a husband, I couldn’t very well continue to skulk around the very edges of nowhere. Don’t bother telling me again he’s dead; we both know he’s tougher than that. He will survive, and I will get him back.”

  Greene’s smile wasn’t a nice one. “You say that like it’s a fate you’d wish on anyone you profess to love.” Before I could respond to that, he turned to Richards. “What’s so important that you uncover your moles? Bad choice, by the way. I would have gone with Connelly and Shanks instead. We’ve known for years they’re your people. Too stupid to get a single coded message out without tripping all of our warning systems.”

  Richards didn’t take the bait. “Why should I have pulled out our top recruiters? Would be a bad move, wouldn’t you sa
y?” He gave a curt nod—to me only—and left to join his men, and after a few words to Cole went on to the sulking extractees.

  Business here concluded, the ship cast off once more, slowly gaining speed as it got further away from the docks. I would have loved to take my previous place at the railing once more to run a few more great lines through my head that I might offer once I stepped off the boat again—somehow, “Sorry I disappeared, now help me,” didn’t quite feel sufficient—but Greene seemed to have other plans, remaining plastered to my side. The remaining guards at the dock dispersed quickly, as did the traders, until only the scavengers were glaring after us. Lovely. I kind of had a feeling that might, eventually, catch up with me. And there I’d tried to be so nice and diplomatic. But first, I had to pull off and survive the impossible—and after that, get my husband back.

  “Are you going to spend the entire time north standing there, staring at me?” I asked Greene when, ten minutes later, he still hadn’t found something other than me to entertain himself with.

  “Thanks, I quite enjoy looking at ghosts,” Greene offered, his usual inanely annoying, constantly goading tone back. “But as you seem so conversational, how is it that I had no clue whatsoever where you were hiding, but they managed to pick you up within days? Doesn’t really paint a pretty picture for you, considering you will be running the ‘I didn’t do anything with them’ narrative, I presume?”

  “I’m not using a script, if that’s what you’re asking.” The very idea made me chortle—until I realized what he was really asking. “No, I don’t suspect that Richards had anything to do with what happened. But thanks for confirming that we actually did manage to pull a complete disappearing act.”

  “And still, those asshole slavers found you—as did your buddies with a penchant for all shades of drab green,” he noted, sounding very self-satisfied.

  “Bad luck,” I shot back. “And no such thing as coincidence on the second count.”

  Greene looked properly disturbed, which made all this worth it—at least for a second. “I can’t believe you set up a safety call with them but not your people. And I know you didn’t because they learned that you’re in trouble through the grapevine, which in and of itself will get you shit.”

  All I could do was shrug at that. “Then our plan worked. Nothing I can do about the consequences.”

  Greene kept studying me for a while, either waiting for me to elaborate or change topics. When neither happened, he heaved a theatrical sigh. “Please, have it your way. Which reminds me, I have been thinking—”

  “Never a good idea. Did you hurt your pretty head?”

  Greene flashed me a brief grin at my taunt but otherwise ignored me—which didn’t bode well. “You mentioned a name on our brief talk when you were in France. Since you never do anything like that casually, it piqued my interest quite a bit. In this case, I figured you were just mining for dirt you could get on any number of your associates, but ever since, it never quite left my mind. Do you remember who you were asking about?”

  Any levity I’d felt before was gone in under a second flat. “I’d hardly forget the reason why we decided to disappear.”

  For once, Greene didn’t look pleased at having guessed right, but he also seemed annoyed with me. “The thing is, I tried to find out something—anything, really—but there is nothing to find. He’s dead, just like millions of other grumpy old bastards who had no chance whatsoever to survive the apocalypse. I didn’t think you’d be someone who believes in ghost stories.”

  Maybe not me. “Nate does. And that was enough for me.”

  A frown crossed Greene’s expression, making him look downright pinched. “You sure your husband didn’t just want to shirk some responsibility? Endless guard duty and diaper runs aren’t all that entertaining if you do it for years. Could it be possible that he sold you on the idea because he wanted to spend some quality time doing whatever you weirdos do when you’re out there, all on your own?”

  I couldn’t help myself; even knowing he was baiting me, that one I had to take. “You mean, fuck like animals? Of course we did lots of that, but being near people has never really stopped us.”

  Suppressed laughter coming from further down the boat made it obvious that our conversation wasn’t staying between us. Greene gave me an exasperated sigh, but he had been asking for it. Literally.

  “Don’t you think that, four years into this shit that we call civilization at the moment, we’d know if there was such a big, bad wolf hiding in our middle? I guarantee you—I’d know. I may not have been able to pinpoint your exact location, but you haven’t been that completely off the map that I haven’t been able to narrow it down to a few select regions. If I’d wanted to, I could have sent someone to fetch and drag you back to us anytime.”

  That got the derisive smirk it deserved. “You had the right people on your doorstep who we’d gladly come with if needed. You didn’t send anyone because you had your reasons not to. Don’t play the saint and protector now; that’s never worked with me, and never will.”

  If anything, Greene seemed challenged rather than annoyed—good. I needed any help I could get, and I wasn’t that choosy where it came from anymore. That lesson I’d had to learn the hard way.

  “You both really think Decker’s still alive? And not just that, but behind everything that’s going on? I hate to break it to you, but the main issue we’ve faced has always been chaos rather than fascist order. We must have lost a good five to ten thousand people to faction after faction doing their thing which ended up undermining themselves and costing even more lives. You can’t really negotiate for a truce when there is no one to negotiate it with.”

  That sounded quite a bit different from what Richards had told me—and I gave it the same amount of credit. I didn’t expect any one of them not to lie to me. “Is that what happened? To your docks, I mean.”

  “And my leg,” Greene griped, but didn’t offer up any further details. “Make fun of me all you will, but New Angeles has become one of the stabilizing powers. All that we got for that was making ourselves a target. That’s why we’re closed now to anyone we don’t have a very good reason to trust.”

  “And I’m the exception again, right?” I guessed.

  He took way too long to reply not to confirm my guess. “Let’s just put it this way: nobody in the city would spill a tear if anything was to happen to you.”

  “Even though I didn’t commit any of the atrocities that everyone seems to be pinning on me now?”

  Greene looked confused for a second before a nasty, enlightened expression took over his face. “Ah. You don’t know.”

  “What don’t I know?” That I didn’t was obvious—as was the part about not really wanting to hear this, but what else was new?

  Greene turned around so he could look over to the soldiers, studying them for a moment. “I’m not going to waste my breath on asking what tall tale they dished out. Let me set all this in perspective for you. What everyone knows is that your people turned up in the spring in the first year after the world went to shit, well-fed, trained as a team, bustling with weapons, ammo, and gear. You hung out just long enough to establish yourself as power players, and the next thing we knew, we had open war on the roads. Lo and behold, it was you who rallied the scavengers to fight back, which you did with lots of ease and surprisingly few dead—including enemy numbers. It was such a shining victory for freedom and self-empowerment—are we on the same page so far?”

  “If you completely ignore the loss of lives and why we did what we did, sure,” I snarked, not liking where this was going.

  “Collateral damage, as we soon found out,” Greene offered succinctly. “Next thing, you both disappear, leaving some semi-believable tale with just enough evidence to make it sound real for a while. Add confirmation about your forced cooperation—which, really, was a great move, abusing my gullibility to establish the different fronts there—and then you simply disappear, presumably to spend the next years lazin
g away at some base or other, to watch the world burn. And burn it does, because what your crusade really did was highlight the players who might be strong enough to fight, and happy to dissent. How am I doing so far?”

  “Talking a lot of BS, if you ask me.” I didn’t have to feign annoyance. That was all real.

  “Is it?” Greene asked, striking a musing pose. “It makes so much more sense than any other explanation. You weren’t the only one who disappeared that winter. We don’t have exact numbers, but estimates are that more than half of the scavengers who went to Colorado with you vanished without a trace, including two entire settlements.”

  “It was a hard winter,” I objected. “Besides, we know the army was recruiting. Maybe people just changed their minds?” Those were feeble protests at best. I hated how doubtful my voice sounded.

  Greene pretty much agreed with me on that. “A few, maybe, but not people who had families in settlements and were just out there to make living a little less like hell. It’s not like we have official numbers, because come spring, Dispatch was the first city that quit working with the network, and after that it quickly turned into a free-for-all out there. Must have been coincidence that, just like your husband, Dispatch is led by a woman who has direct, and very close, ties to the powers that you claimed to fight against.”

  This was getting better and better. “What do I know about what Rita does? I’ve met her two times in my life. Maybe three. If anything, her and my husband’s shared past seemed to have been a probable cause for issues, not agreement. And no, not because they were screwing around for a while, if that’s your guess. I’m not the jealous type.”

  It was funny to see how much my deviation from the topic annoyed Greene, but it didn’t stop him from continuing to unfurl his fairy tale. “It doesn’t matter what I know, or what I believe—this is what the world believes. You served them up on a silver platter and betrayed them—and, if anything, getting caught up in the hell that you caused and left behind serves you just right.”