Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 4 | Books 10-12
Page 55
Ahead, Eden and one of the guys riding with her had picked up my idea and were now also leaning out of the car, laughing and shouting at the caravan. By the time we traversed from guard to cargo cars, a few of the guards were grinning if not laughing outright themselves, making me feel just a little less idiotic. The traders just stared, perplexed if not intimidated.
Whether it was feeling terribly exposed or the tension coming from being afraid to fall, the adrenaline pumping through my veins was making me stupid, turning my laughter—and some of the taunts I kept screaming into the wind—from forced to real to manic. I was fully aware just how idiotic my actions were, but there wasn’t a hint of regret in my mind.
And then we blew past the lead vehicle and the road was empty and endless in front of us, and for a moment, I forgot all about the doom and gloom and threats and dangers, feeling alive and like myself for the first time in… way too long. I knew it was, at best, a momentary reprieve, but right then I didn’t give a shit. I threw my hands in the air one last time and leaned into the wind, living in the moment.
Then I almost lost my balance, the momentary sense of vertigo slamming my heart into my throat and kicking my instincts into higher gear. I caught myself and quickly pulled myself inside the car, quite happy to be out of the wind and constantly getting pelted with dust particles that hurt way more than they had a right to. Blake was eyeing me carefully and seemed relieved that I was both whole and sitting next to him once more.
“Think it worked?” I asked rather needlessly since no shots had been fired and we were in the clear.
Rather than reply, he pointed at the radio. It was still tuned into the trader frequency, where the same guy as before kept insisting that it had turned out to be “Nothing. Just some tweaked-out assholes.”
“Oh, come on! That’s the worst they got?” I complained.
Blake grunted. “You missed the good parts. I’m sure someone else will be happy to recount them to you. I sure won’t.”
Since that sounded final, I didn’t press on, and instead got dressed and belted once more. My mind calmed down a little once I felt the familiar pressure of the harness around my torso. Marleen was still snickering where she did the same in the back row, much to Fletcher’s disappointment.
“I have one question,” Blake said.
“Just the one? If I were you, I’d have several,” I shot back.
He ignored me. “Why the strip down?”
I shrugged, unable not to smirk. “Let’s put it this way—if I’ve learned something about this new breed of scavengers, it’s that they love to have fun, and they don’t give a fuck about the risks involved. Everything I learned about operational security is the opposite of fun. Wanna know who’d never get the idea to hang half-naked out of the side of a car? Exactly—the people who drive Humvees across the country on clandestine missions.” I allowed myself a small laugh. “Besides, now that my tats have become legendary and even less of a security concern than when I got them, I might as well share them with the world—on my own terms. I’ve lost count how many people have forced me to show them my naked ass over the past years. If I can use that to my own advantage… You get my drift, I’m sure.”
Fletcher seemed tempted to point out that I’d, in fact, kept my pants on, so technically, I hadn’t been mooning the traders, but Blake’s low, rumbling laugh took care of that.
“I think I’m starting to see why Buehler was so eager to join when she heard you’d be around,” he noted.
“Yeah? Well, I’m sure she’s not that heartbroken to be with the main group now—without me. That’s generally the safer side to be on,” I remarked, losing some of my recently gained levity. “Let’s hope this turns out to be the most insane thing any of us will have to do until we find the Chemist.”
Marleen chuckled darkly. “I somehow doubt that.”
And my, wasn’t that something to look forward to?
Chapter 7
We spent as many hours on the move as we dared, and it was still light out by the time we drove the cars off the road and went to seek shelter. That reminded me an awful lot of the time when we’d been a slightly smaller group with a lot more familiar faces. On the trek to the camp, the train that Zilinsky had put together was manned enough that we could camp wherever we wanted. Since we were trying to be more stealthy now, invisibility during downtimes was key once more. It was also a huge difference from how Nate and I had lived for so long, just the two of us, where the possibility to barricade our hideout had been the number one priority, since we would have had to light a signal fire to draw attention. It still bothered me that we didn’t know for sure if the slavers happening upon us had been bad luck, or a concerted, well-planned effort. Since I doubted the executing—and now, likely, executed—party had had a clue about it in the first place, playing guessing games was useless.
Somehow I ended up without anything to do since none of the cars was mine—and it took only so many people to set up the battery recharging racks—and our rations meant no cooking was required. As usual I was scheduled for graveyard-shift watch, and I hadn’t bothered with bringing a book, since entertainment seemed like the lowest priority ever on this mission. Usually, I didn’t expect to need any since I could just talk to people. Only problem was that as we exited the cars, the different factions reassembled, leaving me with the wonderful prospect of either getting glared at for my antics by Sonia or my husband, or Hamilton’s usual kind of hospitality. I would have considered joining the army bunch but both Cole and Hill were on watch and I could do without Richards’s attempts at playing my own personal shrink. I also didn’t want to overstay my welcome with Blake. The scavengers were the only ones who seemed eager to catch my attention, but I wasn’t certain how that would end—and not just because of the drugs. My plan with the caravan had certainly continued to endear me to them, and while I wasn’t hesitant to use that for my advantage, I also didn’t want to risk it—or the uneasy balance our covenant here was hard-pressed to keep. It was hard to miss the way almost everyone was looking at the four colorful, not-quite sober individuals currently stuffing their faces.
Sitting in the car for so long had made my body stiff as fuck, and it made sense to withdraw to behind Nate’s car to get some good stretches going on that the odd, bored male brain could perceive as a different kind of entertainment. Nate found me there not five minutes later, and for a moment I entertained the notion that, just maybe, I’d managed to catch the interest of the only male brain I enjoyed that kind of attention from. But I could tell that he was looking for a fight more than a fuck, which was disappointing—but also such a common occurrence that it alleviated some of my residual unease. He was mad at me because I’d been brilliantly stupid—what else was new? And because I knew that my resulting grin would annoy him even more, I let it fly as I shifted my weight to my other side, not giving a shit how much my tits or ass were sticking out.
“You think you’re oh-so clever, don’t you?” he remarked as he rocked to a halt in front of me, arms crossed over his chest.
“Yup,” I replied, because it was true. “Was it stupid? Risky? Maybe needlessly so, on both counts? Yes. But it worked, and last time I checked, that’s enough.”
His glare expressed his disagreement, but surprisingly enough, he dropped the point. That made me immediately suspicious. “Are you done playing social butterfly now?” he asked, not bothering to mask his annoyance.
“You mean, am I being the adult here and trying to avoid giving your bestie the chance to be a royal ass wipe every chance he gets? He can’t act up if I’m not there to receive his unwanted attention.” Nate’s eyes narrowed, but the fact that he didn’t answer made me realize just how close to the truth I’d hit. That was unusual—and worried me a little. “Is he at least getting the same speech you’re burning to deliver to me? I bet he had quite the opinion on the stunt I pulled with the caravan today and wasn’t afraid to voice it.”
A muscle jumped in Nate’s cheek, but that
could have been amusement. I knew he was capable of being both amused and offended for me at the same time. Did it rankle that, obviously, he hadn’t gone off in Hamilton’s face for that? Yes, but the opposite happening would have surprised—and disconcerted—me more. “A few comments may have been exchanged that I think you don’t need to hear,” he offered up succinctly. “But it wasn’t a bad plan, or I wouldn’t have let you go through with it.”
Maybe it was just my general level of annoyance, but his phrasing—that he let me do anything—made my hackles rise. I would have loved to claim that it was simply my normal need to constantly push against my boundaries, but that missed the point. Intellectually, I knew that we needed a leader—consensus only worked so far, and in many ways I was glad to have him back to his confident self I’d gotten so used to in the early days of the apocalypse. Yet as I was the first to admit, rationality wasn’t always my strong suit. It could have been something as simple as the lack of the people who usually reinforced the hierarchy and left no leeway. Not having Pia and Andrej around made it so easy to snap back to the mindset I’d cultivated over the past two years when it had been just the two of us. I hated to admit it, but having Martinez around to take my cues from and use as an emotional battering ram to tear down my stupid impulses was another factor.
I could tell that some of my ruminations—or the underlying misgivings—were mirrored on my expression, but since I could do nothing about that, and didn’t necessarily want to pick a fight with Nate, I forced myself to ignore as much of that as I could. The patience he was showing as he kept waiting for me to go off in his face wasn’t something I was used to, and it was tantalizingly easy to guess where it came from. So very like him to turn a lesson forced on him into a tool going forward. That thought made me shudder deep inside—just how much had Decker and his people fucked with Nate’s mind in the past that his months spent at the camp were something he could just internalize and deal with, and move on with life? If anything, that hammered home that we really, absolutely, needed to put an end to all this.
He was still waiting for an answer—or some kind of statement or concession—from me, so I forced myself to back off my anger-fueled high horse and straightened from my crouch to bring us as close to eye level as we’d get with both of us standing there, in the middle of nowhere behind a beat-up, dirty car, barely out of earshot of the rest of our little war party. “Look, I get it,” I lied, but tried to sound convincing. “For whatever reason, you think you need him along. Maybe because he is a good fighter, or he knows way more than anyone else, or because it’s so comforting for you to have the single person in the world along that you feel can commiserate with what you have been through—your little trauma buddy, if you will.” I should definitely call Bucky that to his face. Nate didn’t move a muscle, neither in amusement or protest. Fuck, I hated his stoic side when it reared its ugly head like this. How could I bounce my indignation off him if all the possible blows just glanced off without any effect? “Or maybe he’s just a meat shield,” I went on. I sure liked that idea. “Wouldn’t be the first time you used one of those. Whatever your reasoning, I am sure it is sound and you don’t feel the need to share it with me. And I get that nobody else wants to sit beside him at lunch for so many reasons so you have taken it upon yourself to do that. But while I have to accept all that, I won’t continue to subject myself to that bullshit. If you stick with him, I won’t stick with you. I won’t ride in the same car, and I sure as hell won’t be in a fireteam with you. I don’t think there exists a single person in this world I trust less with having my back then Hamilton.”
Part of me waited for his immediate denial—and maybe a laugh to make fun of my grand stance there—but neither came, which made something inside of me run cold. Gee, some things I really didn’t need a confirmation of. When he finally did stoop as low as opening his mouth to respond, Nate still sounded too level for his own good. “I see you’ve put some thought into this.”
“Really not necessary,” I retorted. “For that, snap judgment is enough.”
That earned me a momentary grin, but it was a rather mirthless one. “Who are you going to pester instead? Blake will be wanting to have his marines work as the well-trained team that they are, and Burns, Sonia, and Marleen haven’t expressed similar levels of resentment as you.”
Way to make me feel singled out—but that was exactly what I wanted, right?
“I’ll go with Richards,” I decided, trusting that he wouldn’t mind since we had already been in the field together—including underground labs overrun with super-juiced zombies. I didn’t want to jinx it, but how much worse than Paris could it get?
Nate accepted that with a nod and looked pleased for a second, making me wonder if that had been his plan all along. It made sense from a tactical standpoint—both to even out the teams in number of people, and to spread what counted as the command crew out further. Then again, I was still surprised they’d all just accepted Nate’s leadership like that since Scott and Blake were more than capable of running this ship as well, as was Richards, I figured. If the scavengers loved having me along as a mascot, they still hadn’t overcome their starstruck awe at having Nate to stare at, so they were the faction I expected the least resistance from—and also the least discipline. I couldn’t shake the feeling that would mean they’d have better chances of survival if my own still-alive status was any indication.
Burns interrupted what I only then came to realize was my completely derailed attempt at expressing my indignation by joining us, grinning at us both. At Nate’s questioning look, he shrugged. “I’m here to ride to the rescue.” When we both had just confused—or, in Nate’s case, his usual stoic—looks for him, he laughed. “I saw you both stalk over here, bristling like cats. It’s been over ten minutes and you’re still not fucking each other’s brains out, so something is definitely wrong.”
While it was impossible to disband the wry smile from my face at his words, I couldn’t help but be a little annoyed. “Do I get this right? If we try to hash things out like rational, normal people, something’s wrong?”
“One hundred percent,” Burns agreed wisely. “On your own, you may—sometimes—act rational, but you’re never normal, and not when you’re having one of your powwows. Not defusing the situation with sex always results in at least one of you stalking off mortally offended, and since this mission doesn’t allow for this level of shitheadedness, let’s hash this out in a more mature way, right now.”
I wondered if Pia had set Burns up to babysit us. I didn’t think it beyond either of them, if entirely unnecessary. Nate seemed to agree with me, but he still didn’t rise to the bait. Since I was more than happy to do so, that was for the best. “What, just because I like to get naked and hang out of moving vehicles I’m immature now? You wound me.” I cast a sidelong glance at Nate to gauge his reaction. Still nothing. He was starting to freak me out a little. I turned back to Burns. “But to answer your burning curiosity, we were talking strategy. I’m sorry to inform you that you’re stripped of your usual babysitting-me-in-the-field duty. I’m going with Richards.” Since he now had Sonia along, that was for the best, but I didn’t voice that; I had no idea of her fighting prowess, but it was obvious that she would be his number-one priority. It only seemed to be my husband who let me roam free wherever I wanted—which was one of the reasons why he was my husband. Maybe for the first time ever, I considered how things might have been different if Nate hadn’t gotten badly wounded right at the start of our fight for survival. I presumed he would have still left it up to Andrej, Burns, and Martinez to chaperone me and give me options aplenty to vent or cry on a shoulder when needed, but I doubted he could have kept himself from messing with me more. I was suddenly burning to ask Pia’s opinion about that, knowing all too well that if I questioned Nate, I wouldn’t get a straight answer out of him—and even less so an answer that I liked.
Burns took my words for what they were—a sound explanation, interwoven with lies ev
eryone was aware of and nobody wanted to voice—and gave a brief nod, likely coming to the same conclusions, including Sonia, and my real reason for why getting constantly ribbed by Cole and Hill might be the pleasant alternative for me. “Doesn’t explain why you’re still standing here, talking.”
Nate finally showed a hint of a smile—and turned to go. “I’m getting some chow. Feel free to keep ranting about me behind my back.”
I stared after him for a moment before I turned to Burns—pretty much doing exactly what Nate had just accused me of. “Yes, I’m fucking annoyed, and more concerned than I like to admit, but it’s not that outside our usual MO not to be all over each other.”
Burns made a face. “When either of you is deeply traumatized, yeah. Guess that’s been going on long enough that it’s gotten kind of regular behavior for you now.”
That statement should have given me pause maybe, but I wasn’t going to indulge his badly concealed and equally just bad attempts to play shrink. “You know the company I keep. How is that still surprising to you?” I would have loved to continue trading quips with him but saw Sonia lurking in the background, glaring in my direction. “Chow doesn’t sound half bad, don’t you think? You can tell me all about my dysfunctional relationship if I still have one three days from now. No worries getting my panties in a twist when there might not be a reason for it if the shamblers eat us.”
As expected, Burns found my optimistic attitude funny but didn’t protest. Maybe it was for the best. And, if not? I really didn’t have the mental capacity to care much about anything except our immediate survival.
We spent the evening in quiet contemplation, or as quiet and contemplative a group made up of seasoned soldiers ever got. There was food aplenty and we were in relative safety, so by everyone’s definition, life was good. With one more day just like this to look forward to, it was easy to ignore what would come after that. Except that it wasn’t, because the aspect of walking into a city the size of Dallas went beyond comprehension. We still didn’t have the maps we needed, and I couldn’t help suspecting that “winging it” would not just be our last, but only option. How some evil scientists and a handful of henchmen could have made that trek not just once but several times was beyond me. Clearly, they knew something that we were missing. But what?