It didn’t really matter. We were all doomed to die, the serum’s protection against the zombie virus that all of us had gotten infected with sooner or later too shoddy to hold out indefinitely.
In a sense, that was a relief, however horrifying. It cut my list of priorities down to two things only: One, to make sure we got to Decker and killed him before he could make things even worse for the few people who had managed to survive this far. And two, to make sure that when I inevitably turned into a mindless killing machine, it would happen somewhere that I couldn’t come after any of my friends, or anyone else, preferably. In the days after getting up from my deathbed—the first time, after the factory—I had sometimes joked, to myself inside my head, that wouldn’t it be tragically romantic if one final day Nate and I would have to kill each other with perfectly timed headshots to make sure the other couldn’t turn into our worst, shared nightmare? That scenario had lost all sarcastic appeal now since it was way too close to home. Before Marleen had pulled a number on me, I’d have said it was much more likely that I’d have to shoot Nate first, but the injuries must have set me back some. Since we had no way of knowing—or even guessing—it was just as well. Decker first. After that, I wasn’t required to have much of a care for pretty much anything, and I could appreciate the simplicity of that.
Pain and exhaustion were a great way to keep the latent panic at bay.
Our rendezvous was planned for tomorrow, but when we didn’t stop for longer than absolutely necessary to keep from killing ourselves on the road, I figured that had been a ruse as well. Driving spread out like this, it was hard to tell, but everyone seemed to be keeping up for now. We only had to wait once when one of the older vehicles blew a tire, but that was only a twenty-minute hitch in the plan. After the insane mobs of zombies in the city, seeing a few shamblers pop out of ditches didn’t do much more than get my pulse up slightly.
On and on we went, the day stretching endlessly. Doing nothing but staring out at the passing landscape shouldn’t have been enough to wear me down, but it did. I could tell that I wasn’t fooling anybody by pretending I was doing okay, catching Nate’s cautious glances every once in a while. There wasn’t much I could do about that except to keep hanging on, so that’s what I did. It left me too much time to mull over Marleen’s betrayal and the bad aftertaste it had left. I couldn’t quite believe that Richards had been in on it, even though Nate seemed more than ready to. Sure, that Marleen had waited until now to spring her trap was suspicious, but Richards had had so many better chances to kill me or make sure I’d never become a bother for anyone ever again. Without him, I’d never have made it to California to mobilize the others, and he could have easily made me disappear when we’d infiltrated the camp and blamed it on Cortez and his men. That would have sent Nate over the edge just the same as thinking Hamilton had killed me. Speaking of Cortez, it made no sense that Richards, full to the gills with drugs, had managed to hold up the pretense. Marleen had seldom been anywhere alone with me and never with my life depending on her, and she’d also been conveniently ready to help us escape from the prison cell. Why she hadn’t killed Nate and me right there, I didn’t understand, but considering how long she must have been working as a mole, it was hard to gauge any part of her behavior. I was tempted to ask Nate what annoyed him more—that she’d managed to make him trust her, or fuck her—but refrained. It may have been amusing for a moment to drag a growl out of him, but probably not worth the reminder in the long run.
Afternoon turned to evening, and still we were going on. The batteries of all cars should have been fully charged when we set out, and we could always take a longer break once we met up with the others. I didn’t think that likely to happen, but the idea of it made it just a little easier to get through the next five minutes, and the five after that. The sun disappeared in the distance, and Nate called for the other cars to close in once more, making staying on the roads easier for those who weren’t gifted with supernatural low-light vision. I’d always considered that as kind of a fair trade, a nice bonus to keep in turn for almost dying and getting infected with the virus. That had continued to lose its appeal as I’d come to accept what the infection was doing to my body, but I’d tried to hold on to it even when I’d lost most of my toes and more fingers than I could afford. Realizing that ultimately the virus would kill me and make me convert should have been just an afterthought, but it made it all the harder to see the benefits. Watching the landscape spread out in front of me lose the last orange tints and actually become sharper, cast in blacks and grays, made me downright miserable.
It also made me see the light of a single flashlight a good two miles ahead minutes before that should have been possible, my brain drawn toward it like a moth to the flame. Nate gave the order to course-correct for those who hadn’t caught it yet, and at the next intersection where little more than a trail ran off into the hills, we all turned from the small road we’d been following. The two Humvees went first, their extra plating giving them a better chance to make it should this turn out to be yet another trap.
It wasn’t, which was just as well as I wasn’t convinced we could have defended ourselves against well-rested, uninjured, organized people. As it was, I recognized a few marines and people from California before we eased the cars to a stop right where Santos was switching off the flashlight he’d been waving as soon as the last car came to a halt. Through the trees, I could see that they had set up a small camp around two fires, those kept well shielded from the plains and only visible because we were in shouting distance of the people milling around them.
Pushing the car door open, I sighed when the cool evening air hit my face. AC or no AC, the interior of the car stank of bleach, sweat, and a multitude of organic scents that I didn’t want to further analyze. Nate was already up and moving, asking for a status update now that we had caught up with our people—or at least some of them, as it turned out. What I saw were the volunteers from five cars that had veered off the track the much larger caravan was taking to come meet us. Already they were swarming toward our cars to redistribute gear and resources, making sure that if we had to abandon the site quickly, the cars would be ready for it.
I waited for the world to stop spinning before I trusted my legs and took a step forward, but that was enough for the constant pain in my lower right torso to flame up into blinding agony, hours of stiffness from moving too little not helping. I managed to drag myself around the car door and leaned against the side of the hood, fighting for breath more than trying not to whimper—that fight I’d already lost. My guess was that I’d bled through the bandages, which had turned them and my clothes into one congealed mess, and twisting my torso now had torn all that free. From the direction of the fires, I could just make out the worry etched onto Martinez’s features as he came trotting over to us, two bags with what I presumed were medical supplies slung over his shoulders. He needn’t have bothered—we’d taken everything we could find from the lab, and although it had been raided before and never gotten restocked, that was a lot more than we’d had on the road since just after hitting Sioux Falls what felt like a million years ago. I gave him my best reassuring grin as I partially hunched over, trying to ease up the stress on all injured parts. Cut muscles and ligaments weren’t anything I’d wish on my worst enemy—
Who just so happened to come heaving himself out of another car, way too close for comfort. Then again, Hamilton could have been standing three states away from me and it would still have been too close. He watched me with a grim look of satisfaction on his face, which I decided was worse than his usual condescending sneer. That made an appearance a few moments later when he saw Martinez come to a halt between us, his expression etched with worry. “What the fuck happened?” Martinez asked as he dropped the bags, already snapping on gloves. He knew better than to get close to either of us without that flimsy latex layer of protection.
Grimacing, I got ready to offer up my new favorite sentence, but Hamilton beat me to it. �
��Nothing much,” he jeered. “She’s just annoyed that I got to plug one of her holes that she probably didn’t want to get plugged by me.”
Martinez gave him a “what the fuck is wrong with you” look before stepping up to me.
I couldn’t very well let that go, so I straightened, hand uselessly pressed against the thickest wad of the bandage as I sneered at Hamilton. “I swear I will make sure that you survive this entire fucking mess so I can then bash your head in with a boulder!”
As expected, Hamilton was less than impressed by my threat, grinning brightly. “I thought you wanted to castrate me. Toned down your list of what you think you can accomplish, eh?”
I glared right back. “Don’t worry. I have an entire laundry list of things I will do to you, and if it’s the last thing I do—”
“Enough!” Both Hamilton and I jumped at Nate’s roar that was loud enough to make the many critters hidden in the grass and trees around us pause for a moment. We both drew up short as he came stalking around one of the cars to join us, his eyes narrowed in anger. “You”—he pointed at me—“get fixed up. I’ve been smelling the blood leaking out of your wound for the past two hours so it won’t do to just slap on a new bandage. And you”—he rounded on Hamilton—“come with me.” Neither of us protested, and the two of them were gone within moments, like two shadows gliding into the night. I stared after them, silently gnashing my teeth, before I turned to Martinez. His worry had shot up a notch at Nate’s words but irritation was still lurking in his eyes, making me guess that his tolerance for Hamilton’s bullshit was all used up. For mine possibly as well, I reminded myself. I hadn’t forgotten Sonia’s talk, and finding myself face to face with one of the people she’d specifically mentioned didn’t make it easier to ignore her accusations.
“Let’s put it this way,” I said, trying my hand at levity—and finally getting to that precious line. “As it turns out, my new friend Marleen wasn’t my friend after all. She knifed me in the back, thinking she’d kill me if she hit my remaining kidney, and set things up to make Nate think Hamilton did it. Turns out I’m a tougher nut to crack.”
Martinez was still staring at me, a different kind of horrified now, but dutifully reached over to help me peel myself out of my layers. I wasn’t yet down to my tank top when Burns joined us, giving Martinez a bump with his shoulder in greeting. Sonia was nowhere to be found, so I figured she must have been helping Blake out of the car to be reunited with his people. “Yeah, that was quite something,” Burns chimed in, apparently having heard the beginning of our conversation. “You really missed out on a shitload of fun!”
Martinez grimaced as if he was taking Burns seriously, but his concentration was on peeling away the bandages that, just as I’d expected, were sticking to my skin and the fabric of my clothes alike, or had been. “Tell me all about it,” he muttered as he started wiping away blood with the part of the bandages that was just grimy with a day of sweat to get a better look at the damage. “You pulled a few stitches, and there’s likely a little pus underneath that’s draining out now with the lymph, but could be worse.” He briefly paused to look at my face where I was trying to crane my neck to see, which was, of course, impossible. “Sonia sewed you up?” I nodded. “She did a good job, but looks like you got up to move too soon.”
“Tell me about it,” I echoed his words, if not the sentiment. When he eyed me askance, I explained. “Nobody saw Marleen’s betrayal coming. Apparently, she’s been Decker’s mole for fucking forever. If she managed to embed herself like that in Nate’s trust, it stands to reason that she’s not the only one. We need to make sure to close ranks and get our weakest links to safety.” Meaning Sadie and her kid, but also other dependents who might not be able to go toe-to-toe with a psychotic assassin or the likes.
All Martinez had for me was a cut-off grunt before he got out some fresh gauze and alcohol, and set to work. While all I could do to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs was to clench my hands into fists and lean against the car, Burns quite conversationally brought Martinez up to speed, making sure to stress between the lines just how impossible survival would have been for our medic with his healed but not fully repaired spine injury. Martinez kept offering the token protest but when I caught a look at his face, I could see relief there.
Damn, but it was good to see him again.
It was late enough in the evening that all anyone wanted to do was to eat and sleep. Since most of us hadn’t had a chance for any breaks during the day, the caravan group got guard duty. Hearing our recounts from Dallas, they seemed more than happy with their lot. I spent most of the time chewing meditatively while listening to the others talk, which got me more than the odd concerned look from Martinez, but after sewing me back up he could likely guess why I wasn’t quite up to chatting. Nate spent the entire time on the radio or sifting through maps, plotting and asking for updates. I was aware that I should have been more engaged in that myself, but tonight I simply wasn’t up to it. As soon as Blake stretched and asked one of his people to help him up so he could limp back to the cars to catch some sleep, I got up and excused myself for the night. Thanks to the others coming at full strength, we were once more too many people for everyone to sleep in the cars, but since nobody had evicted me from our commandeered vehicle, I stretched out in the back, molding myself against packs and provisions. The pain kept me wide awake and uncomfortable for the first ten minutes, but eventually, that dulled to manageable levels, letting me doze off…
Until, maybe half an hour later when the back door on the passenger side opened, admitting Nate. He was moving slowly so as not to wake me, halting briefly when he saw me turn my head to look up at him. We stared at each other for a few seconds before he climbed in and pulled the door shut behind him, nudging stuff away until he could stretch out next to me. Part of me wanted to just close my eyes and sleep, but there was no telling when we’d get the next chance to have an uninterrupted night together in a safe place. I wasn’t exactly feeling up to working my way through five positions of the Kama Sutra, but deep down, underneath the pain and exhaustion and dread of what was waiting to come for us next, churned that unbridled joy of survival and the need to—physically and mentally—flip the apocalypse off. Too bad, fuckers—today is another day you didn’t get me.
Some of that must have been mirrored in my expression, drawing a wry smile from Nate. “Some things never change, huh?” he whispered as he leaned closer, but rather than follow up words with actions, all he did was stroke my cheek in a strangely tender way. Why that made me uncomfortable, I didn’t want to analyze, but he stopped with a snort when I turned my face into his palm—and bit into the fleshy part below his thumb, not hard enough to draw blood, but there were fading marks left when I moved back. He flashed me a grin at the challenge in my gaze, and—moving faster than his own injuries and the space available in the car should have made possible—the next moment he was perched above me, his grip on my arms gentle yet his weight pinning me down. There was clear intent in the way he kissed me as he pushed my thighs apart with his body, and I was only too happy to wrap my legs around his hips—until I arched my back and twisted slightly, which sent bright agony through my body, making me gasp in a quite different way than Nate had intended. He froze immediately and let up, his eyes narrowed in concern.
I did my best to smile, but it must have been closer to a grimace. “Yeah, not sure that’s working for me right now.”
He smirked, ever the asshole—but I didn’t miss him absently pushing a hand against his own wound as he moved off me. “That makes two of us,” he confessed, chuckling under his breath.
I rolled my eyes at him—both of us, really—and waited until he stopped wincing. Critically eyeing what most comfortable positions we’d both assumed, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Not sure that’ll work. Side by side?” I suggested.
He considered but then shook his head. “My hip’s too stiff right now. I don’t think I can get enough motion going.”
Pursing my lips, I grinned. “Do we really need a technical manual now to get it on?”
Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 4 | Books 10-12 Page 76
