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

by Lecter, Adrienne

  I sure felt like a responsible, capable adult as I turned my full attention to Scott, and thus hopefully annoyed the fuck out of Hamilton for not getting a rise out of me. “You have something? As Hamilton without a doubt has already told you, we got nothing that we didn’t already know—but, as they say, sometimes you need confirmation that there is nothing to be found.” If Nate got annoyed with me for hijacking his statement, that was his problem, not mine.

  Scott looked disappointed that he didn’t get to sneer at me again but was quick to answer. “Our interrogations went just as badly, but one of my contacts managed to ferret out one of the Chemist’s assistants as he was trying to sneak out of the camp yesterday. We have now confirmed his identity.”

  I couldn’t help but frown—and not just because he still wouldn’t give up who his connections were. “Sneak out in this weather?” I hadn’t been outside since the early hours of the morning, but the worst of the storm was blowing over the camp right now, audible even here, below-ground. From what little I’d caught was going on with the camp, several of the more rickety buildings had already caved in, making people flock into basements and the sturdy structures of the citadel—the converted upper levels of what used to be a coal mine, also housing the arena.

  Scott allowed himself a small smile. “Might be a case of intelligence not necessarily translating into street smarts.”

  Before I could respond, Hamilton had to offer his two cents. “Sounds familiar, huh?” he drawled from way too close, not just the lack of distance making it too damn intimate.

  And because I’d about used up my mature-behavior moves for the week, I had to turn my head so that we were almost nose-to-nose, and stared blankly into his grinning visage. “You wouldn’t know.”

  We kept staring at each other, my skin crawling but my ego unwilling to move even a muscle.

  Nate was the first to grow tired of our antics, speaking up for the first time. “I presume the reason you’re not yet busy beating the shit out of him means that you want us to do it? Tell us where your people are keeping him and consider it done.”

  Scott’s attention had jumped from our staring match to Nate but briefly flickered back once more. “Are you sure that you don’t want them to hash things out first?”

  Nate cast us both a look that was scathing enough to make me draw up short, but his tone remained jovial as he replied. “If I had an iota of hope that would change anything for the better, I would have herded them out into the arena and let them beat the crap out of each other. But since I don’t, we’ll have to do it the mature way and pretend to be working well together until something catastrophic enough happens that we actually do.”

  Hamilton gave a silent sneer—still more in my direction than Nate’s—and I left it at a consternated glare. Scott found this surprisingly amusing, likely because it was a message received and neither of us was able to protest that fact. He certainly looked more at ease than the Ice Queen, who appeared more than sick of the holdup. The rest of the people were watching in silence, which made me feel actually chagrined. I didn’t mind being the prime entertainment around but could have done without it happening at my expense.

  “My men have stashed him in the Chemist’s workroom,” Scott explained. “You might want to take a look around as well.”

  Nate accepted the news with a nod, and after a glance at Pia—who gave him a similar gesture to show she had everything else covered—turned toward a different exit than through which we’d entered. I still found it eerie that he knew his way around this place so well although he must have spent virtually all of his time in his cell, but that was my husband for you. I would have gotten turned around in this rabbit warren all the time if I didn’t have someone to guide me along. Bucky was right there next to me, of course, as apparently we’d already maxed out the alone time we’d get that day. I would have minded less if his smirk didn’t let me know that he was quite amused at my obvious vexation.

  I really needed to learn how to stop carrying my emotions on my sleeve, even if it was mostly the need for bloody murder, and usually centered on just one person.

  I was surprised when Nate not only led us to the upper level of the tunnels, but on into an above-ground extension accessible from below that must have been some kind of admin building for the mines. Everywhere we turned, people stepped out of our way, most of them giving us as wide a berth as possible. I didn’t mind at first—traveling with company again had accustomed me to not being on my own somewhat but the crowds here still made me uncomfortable—and it made getting to where we were headed easier. But it only took a few minutes for me to catch on that they not just responded to someone, armed and armored, being in a hurry, but they actually recognized Nate and Bucky. Hamilton, if anything, seemed to love watching them inch away from him, practically gloating at the mix of fear and awe that met him. Nate, already tense, seemed to get more so with every second that passed, his gaze unwavering in front of him as he pushed forward. Knowing him as well as I did, I could see his unease in every line of his body, making me want to punch all those gawking assholes in the face.

  The door we were looking for wasn’t hard to find, with Hill and Cole leaning next to it, pretending like they were on guard duty but mostly interested in watching the people pass by. To say they drew up short when they saw us round the corner was an exaggeration, but they seemed somewhat conflicted about whether they should salute or not. The marines were definitely having a bad influence on them. When they realized that Hamilton wasn’t about to get in their faces, they relaxed, and Hill pulled the door open after rapping on it twice.

  “Have fun,” he told me, way too chipper.

  I still managed a smile even though my heart was already sinking considering what I’d likely be doing five minutes from now. “You know I will,” I quipped, increasing my speed just a little to be the first through the door.

  Inside, Scott’s other three marines were loitering around, if a little more present than the soldiers had been. I could immediately see why they weren’t on high alert; the man they were guarding looked like the least threatening person I’d seen all day. That probably said more about the scavengers milling around than him, but he couldn’t have been much taller or heavier than me. The marines had tied his limbs to the chair he was sitting on, but because it was made of wood, I figured I should maybe not punch him too hard or else the rickety piece of furniture might disintegrate. Maybe it was simple bias because of my personal beef with Cindy, but judging from the way his eyes went wide as he saw us come in, I didn’t think I’d need much violence to get this one talking.

  “You can leave now. We got this,” I told no one in particular. When nothing came from either of my silent, hulking companions, one of the marines nodded and signaled the other two to beat it. The guy in the chair looked after them with something akin to longing before his attention snapped back to us—and he went a few shades paler. I was tempted to do some posing shit like crack my knuckles—not that they would do that, and even less so in the gloves—but left it at crossing my arms over my chest, remaining in an easy stance in front of him. “I hear you have something you want to tell us?” Which was a lie, but he did look ready to spill his guts.

  “Yes!” he pretty much shouted, his attention still split between the three of us. “Please, there’s no need to hurt me! I’ll tell you whatever you want to know! I’ll tell you everything!”

  That was a nice change of pace—not that I necessarily trusted it, but after repeating the same questions over and over for hours and never getting anything to work with, far was it from me to protest.

  “Fine with me,” I told him, mostly so his eyes would finally stop alternately snapping to one of the guys and quickly skimming away once more, a new wave of horror making the prisoner shake like a leaf in the wind. “Let’s start with who you are and what you’ve been doing here, and maybe what you think is the most useful information for us.”

  It didn’t exactly work, but he did include me in
his mad looking-around for a moment. Bucky let out a grunt, which made my annoyance spike. Glancing to the side, I realized that he was now leaning against the closed door at my back, staring with bright-bordering-on-crazy eyes at the guy in the chair, which made me guess he’d seen him before. “Yeah, I do remember you,” Hamilton growled, which made the guy actually whimper. I checked with Nate next but he remained standing, his expression hard but neutral—and by itself no less threatening than Hamilton’s grimace. Great—looked like I was going to have to pretend like I was the mature one. Again.

  “Talk,” I told our prisoner. “You have about ten seconds before either of them decides that—”

  I didn’t get any further than that as the guy started stammering immediately, his tone high-pitched in real panic. “My name’s Mike. I got here around two years ago, in summer, just when they were getting started. I used to be the Chemist’s assistant but I don’t know his name or where he went, and…” He had to stop there to catch his breath—or take one, for starters—and I used that to silence him with a quick, raised hand.

  “Okay, Mike,” I offered, trying to be jovial but really, it came out more like a taunt. It was hard to step out of the confrontational mindset I’d been in most of the day, and Hamilton’s presence didn’t exactly help with that. “Let’s start from the beginning. How did you become the Chemist’s assistant? What did you do for him? And is there anyone else around that we could ask as well?”

  He shook his head at first—likely in answer to the last of my questions—but quickly stopped when Hamilton leaned a little closer. “I didn’t have a choice, you know?” he stuttered, his words still coming out pressed and too fast. “They signed me up for guard duty first but I knew I wouldn’t survive that. You have no idea how horrible it was!?”

  “I can’t imagine,” Nate more growled than drawled, apparently deciding not to sit this one out after all.

  Mike’s eyes went wider still, a visible shudder running through him as he realized what he’d just implied. I hadn’t thought I’d ever meet someone who was scared out of their wits, but he seemed pretty close to the definition of that idiom.

  “It was either that or the arena,” he explained, slowing down a little when his stammering got too bad to get the words out. “None of the guards do it because they want to. Well, most don’t. Cortez has a few who do. But the rest of us, we don’t. They caught me stealing—food, because I was so fucking hungry, and back before the scavengers came to trade and we had the fields producing, there barely was food for anyone. Of course I chose guard duty, but they accused me of slacking off when I got beat up good by a few of the prisoners as we subdued them.” His gaze again flitted between Nate and Bucky, but this time he managed to focus on me before anyone could threaten him further. “My supervisor was warning me off just as the Chemist came with a new round of drugs to test, cursing under his breath that he never had enough hours in the day to get the work done. I used to teach basic chemistry in school so I offered to help. It sure beat getting killed.”

  I was tempted to give him a “cry me a river” response but let the guys do that with their mere presence. “Exactly what was it that you did for him?” I hadn’t had time to check if there was any documentation to be found, but judging from the empty spaces on the desk and few shelves that weren’t full of tubes and flasks, I didn’t hold my breath.

  Showing a first hint of possessing a spine, Mike blinked in irritation. “I mixed up whatever he told me to. Some solutions were straight-up basic organic chemistry. We also did a lot of plant extractions and distillation. More often than not, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing—he just had me follow the instructions he gave me. Sometimes he tested the results on me, too—you know, so I wouldn’t deliberately screw with the outcomes. You’ll likely not understand half of it if I tried to explain it to you.”

  I could practically feel Hamilton’s silent laughter beside me, vexation sneaking into the relative relaxation that had settled over my mind. “Try me,” I shot back, doing my best not to sound—and look—as offended as I felt.

  Mike’s beginning ire increased but he obliged me. “Some of the compounds I could guess at because of how he had me mix them—esters for the most part, some salts. The plant extractions were almost all psychedelics. Once the first batches produced stable results, that’s what he had me use as a base for large-scale production. Most ended up crystalized. What the scavengers love to get high on comes from that.” And whatever Cortez had shot me and Richards up with that gave me the hangover of a lifetime right now, if my guess wasn’t completely wrong. That much made sense—the few glances I’d gotten at the shelves were enough that I could cook up a batch of acid if I found a basic recipe somewhere… not unlike the shit we had gotten up to in college sometimes, after hours, with the help of a TA who had dutifully signed out the respective chemicals from the general list that had existed to prevent that very use of them. I’d always had the suspicion that had come with decades of tradition.

  My absentminded nod seemed to annoy Mike further—as did my next question. “That all you did?”

  “I helped with injections, too,” he professed, sounding a lot smaller now.

  “And?”

  He blinked—and that’s when I started to suspect that at least some of the shuddering and stuttering was an act. “Producing drugs large-scale takes up a lot of time.”

  “Actually, it doesn’t,” I pointed out. “Only if you don’t schedule the batches right. But yeah, it takes a day or two if you laze around on your ass, pretending you’re doing something other than twiddling your thumbs.” He didn’t react, which in itself was confirmation enough—although not for anything I felt like further blaming him for. So he’d been a slacker. Considering the consequences—particularly for those who seemed to have been the guinea pigs for the test batches—that might have saved lives. “What else did you do for him? And before you keep on digging that hole you’re in, we know that wasn’t everything.”

  He drew up short but tried to hide it in another wide-eyed shake. “I swear, I—”

  Nate let out another growl—this one nonverbal, and of the kind that made the hair all over my body stand up—and Mike thought better of it. “Yes, he had me synthesize other shit, too, but I bet all of that is way above your pay grade. And it wasn’t like he was sharing his plans with me. I just got to do the lab monkey work.”

  “Like what?”

  He sighed, exasperated—and I didn’t miss how his focus dropped from my face to the side of my neck, where thanks to my tank top being my only clothing on top, the very ends of the X-shaped marks were visible. Ah—now things were about to get interesting. “You do know about the serum project?” A stupid question, as I was about to point out, but he went on before I got a chance to. “He was working on some improvements, from what little he told me. I won’t bore you with the details.”

  Now that was where he was wrong. “Please do.”

  He actually went so far as to grunt before he caught himself—and it was that last bit of annoyance that made me realize where this came from. He did a good job hiding the arrogance in his gaze, but not good enough, now that I knew what to look for. “Why waste my breath—” he started, but cut off when I gave him a bright, albeit cold smile.

  “You have no fucking clue who I am,” I observed.

  It was almost comical to watch him pause. Again his attention snapped to my marks, and he looked nervous for real as he licked his lips. “One of the scavengers, obviously,” came his hesitant response.

  Leaning back, I allowed myself a self-satisfied huff, then let my smile turn bright and toothy and possibly quite hostile. “The Lucky Thirteen sound familiar? I’m Bree Lewis, and this here is my husband.” Mike’s eyes went wide—no further explanation needed. Cocking my head to the side, I held on to that smile, but I could tell there was only sadistic glee in it now. Ah, how good it felt to, for once, get the recognition I deserved. “So when I tell you that I do, in fact, know a thing or tw
o about the serum project—and basic chemistry—you know that I’m not lying. And if you don’t spill the beans this fucking second, I will start to take you apart limb from limb and feed you to my husband, and make you watch how he will eat every strip of flesh, muscle, and tendon that I cut from your body.” I chanced a look at Hamilton—less to gauge his reaction and more to indicate him—and found that, for once, he was playing along nicely, a look of gleeful if violent anticipation on his face. “He can do whatever he wants. He obviously has his own beef with you, but I don’t expect that to go down any less painful or gruesome for you. We have been working quite well together all morning when we were cutting up that traitorous bitch.” I considered if that was enough, but since he hadn’t gone completely white in the face yet, I added, “And if their reputation around here isn’t enough for you yet, let me explain that back before the zombie apocalypse, the entire serum project had somewhat of a reputation because of the people they recruited for black ops shit—and these two were, without a doubt, among the worst of what the army had no official knowledge of. Well deserved from what I heard, which is but a fraction of the shit they actually got up to.”

  Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten so much satisfaction out of scaring Mike—and some of the glee I felt was definitely due to the last dregs of the drugs in my system making all kinds of things funny to me—but the sharp scent of urine tickling my nose was definitely rewarding. I didn’t look down at his crotch to confirm; that wasn’t exactly necessary. Before, he had been uneasy but putting on a show. Now, his panic was real.

  “I didn’t lie, I promise!” he cried, finally dropping the stuttering act. “I really don’t know what that asshole was up to! I just did what I was told!”

  I gave him a one-shouldered shrug to let him know I really didn’t give a shit. “Then speculate. Please.”

  He swallowed convulsively, his attention only straying from me for a second. “I’m not sure how the two are connected, but from what I can guess, he was trying to find substances that cut through the protection the serum conveys, and to develop different stable versions going forward. We didn’t work with the live virus here, obviously, but in the notes he gave me, a few version numbers were mentioned, in ascending order.”