Tension was running high throughout the day, but there wasn’t exactly much we could do but push on. I agreed with Nate that it only made sense to continue as one closed unit—particularly considering what it meant for us if our vanguard had gotten overwhelmed—but it was torture to check in with Hill and Cole each and every hour, and always get the same message back: no answer. I knew Blake had alerted the Silo, but I was itching to spread the word. Vegas and the large Utah settlement were our closest possible safe havens, both seeming a million miles away considering the terrain—and heat. Summer was in full swing now, turning the days endless and hot as hell. Two of the cars broke down during the day when we kept pushing on beyond what we knew was smart, Nate deciding to abandon them after a brief discussion with Martinez. I tried calling into New Angeles—hoping my name and voice would open doors after all—but the line went to static as soon as I managed to identify myself. That more than anything else made me antsy—Greene and I had had a pleasant-enough talk just days ago, and while I understood him not committing any people to our cause, he always seemed to have considered the coastal settlements as part of their growing network. Absolute silence could only mean one thing—someone must have made them circle the wagons against all incoming forces, us included. My guess was on the Ice Queen herself, deciding that, at worst, the lives of a few hundred were worth less than several thousands throughout the state and New Angeles itself. I also had a certain feeling that as soon as we’d left for our assault on the camp, whoever remained behind had been in a permanent state of high alert. Maybe the unease churning in my gut was completely unwarranted, and what had actually happened was all our people gathering in New Angeles and spending a week on the beach waiting for us to pass one checkpoint or another until they could flag us down to reunite there. It sounded highly unlikely since neither I, Nate, nor Martinez or any of the others knew about it, but it was possible. Nate and Pia both had in the past proven that keeping secrets was easiest if nobody was aware of them—it was hard to torture knowledge out of people who didn’t have it in the first place. But—now more than ever—Marleen’s betrayal was a constant reminder that we couldn’t be careful enough.
That night, we made camp an hour after nightfall, and Nate didn’t return to the car until after I’d dozed off. Part of me was curious about what he was doing, but I was happy to give him space if he thought he needed it. Truth be told, I needed a little alone time myself. After taking forever to fall asleep, I was awake by three, finding Nate rolled up on the other side of the vehicle, fast asleep. Too anxious to stay put, I got up and went to volunteer to relieve one of the guards, but since Nate had apparently left word with them not to give me a rotation, they sent me scampering off once more. It just so happened that I was walking by the radio Humvee when I heard the sound of an unfamiliar voice coming on.
“I repeat, anyone out there?” someone said, followed by a low chuckle.
No one else was around, so I took it upon myself to open the door and reach for the mic. “Hearing you loud and clear,” I said without identifying myself, figuring that if they were trying to hail us, they’d know who they’d get on the line.
“Thank fuck,” the unknown caller acknowledged. “I was getting worried here that you’re deliberately ignoring us. Or that you’re just human and fast asleep at this ungodly hour.”
I couldn’t help but smirk, despite the knot in my stomach. “Yeah, what can I say? Someone always gets the graveyard shift.”
That seemed to be enough to qualify me as someone worth reporting to. The caller’s voice took on a slightly more serious tone. “We just got back to our base truck. Don’t have any long-range transmitters on the buggies.” I wondered if that should make any sense to me, but he explained before I could ask. “We’re the people Harris sent from Vegas to go snooping toward the coast. Since there was a lot of hush-hush going on, we decided to take two dune buggies to investigate. Much lighter, pretty fast, and very hard to spot in a pinch. We didn’t find the vanguard group you’re looking for, but there’s absolute radio silence from the five independent settlements on the coast. It’s not due to a signal scrambler; at least we still had radio contact between the buggies. We figured it was best to report in with that before we go any closer. Something’s definitely up, but we didn’t get close enough for a good look yet. My boss thinks it’s someone’s contingency plan, but since you called in, I’m not so sure about that. We know where some of their forward watch stations are and we’re checking in with them later today. If you don’t hear from us by morning tomorrow, proceed with caution.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, but until we knew more, I couldn’t allow myself to start freaking out. “Thanks for the update,” I told him. “Looking forward to hearing from you again.”
“My pleasure,” the scavenger replied. “And good to have you back in the loop, Lewis. Things were way too boring without you around.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle in spite of myself. “Do I know you?”
“Not personally, no,” the scavenger replied. “Looking forward to maybe remedying that soon.” He paused briefly. “I’ll let you know what we find out as soon as we have details.”
He signed off then, leaving me to my pacing. I made it exactly three steps away from the Humvee before a dark shape materialized out of the darkness—Hamilton. The way he stopped, he must have seen me by the vehicle, making sure to keep his distance. In the near complete darkness of our temporary shelter—the outskirts of a small forest at the shore of a reservoir a few miles west of the Texas-New Mexico border—his tall, emaciated frame looked less human and more like it belonged to some kind of woodland creature from a nightmare scape. The usual contempt and hatred burned in his gaze, but rather than engage, he just paused until he saw me draw up short before he stepped around me, continuing on his trek to who-the-fuck-knew where. I stared after him for a moment before I forced myself to relax. In the direction he had come from, I saw Burns make a beeline for where we kept leftover coffee for the night-shift guards in a thermos by the extinguished fire.
He looked up when I joined him, pouring a second mug for me as soon as I held my aluminum cup out to him. “Can’t sleep?” he ventured what must have been an exceptionally well-informed guess, judging from the slight grin lighting up his face.
“Just heard from the scavengers that are scouting the coast,” I told him rather than reply to his question. “They said all five settlements there have gone dark.”
I’d expected a shrug and joke, but he mulled that over for a moment. “I don’t know for sure, but chances are good Zilinsky sent all of them scrambling when she heard back from us,” he pointed out. “They wouldn’t be advertising that after the fact.”
“Makes sense,” I admitted. “But why not tell us that?”
“No use trying to hide in obscurity when you blare it out over the open frequencies,” he noted. “But I’m with you there. I don’t like this one bit.”
We didn’t say anything else, but since I was already awake, it made sense for me to join him on his perimeter route. Somehow that reminded me a lot of the first months we’d spent together, when I’d seldom been left alone on my shifts. It was good to spend some time just hanging out, even if we weren’t talking much. Who knew how much time we still had for that?
In the morning, I shared the new information with the others, little as it was. I was met with a round of grim faces, and we broke camp even faster than the day before. The sun wasn’t yet fully over the horizon, and already I was sweating in my full gear, not looking forward to how the day would go.
By nightfall, one more car had broken down, and more than one fatigued figure more fell than staggered out of a vehicle when we made camp for the night. Nate was gone before I could ask him to—please!—lift the embargo on me doing perimeter guard, and Hamilton was nowhere to be found as well. I took it upon myself to inform Blake that I was absolutely taking the early shift for next morning, and couldn’t help but glare at the radio Humvee eve
ry so often. No message came—and the same was still true for when Martinez woke me up, gently knocking on the window of the car. Again I found Nate fast asleep next to me, leaving me conflicted and just a little angry—until I got a little too close to where he’d ditched his jacket in the front seat, the metallic scent of blood tickling my nose. Even sluggish with sleep, it didn’t take my brain long to make the connection—he and Hamilton must have been out hunting, and had obviously been successful this time. Relief warred with annoyance as I let myself out of the car and checked in with the two marines who were sharing the shift with me. Sure, I was glad that he’d found a way to feed himself—even if it came at the expense of downtime—but why didn’t he take me with him? I was more than capable with a bow, particularly if he gave me an evening to modify it to suit my needs. I didn’t need a shrink to tell me what got my hackles up was who he was doing it with, not that it wasn’t including me.
Morning broke, and still we had no answer from the scavengers. Nobody said anything, but I could see the latent anxiety growing, jumping from us to the marines in no time. I tried to tell myself that it could still be coincidence—or Pia had caught the scavengers and forbidden them to call in as not to alert anyone needlessly to our plans—but deep down I knew that things were ramping up to be bad.
Another endless day of baking in the sun, just as unforgiving in Arizona as it had been in New Mexico. One more day, and we would be close enough to New Vegas for short-range transmission. Another, and we’d be at the California coast by nightfall. Radio chatter on the open frequencies sounded normal enough, the only reports we snatched up coming from broken-down bridges, tornado warnings, and some flooding in Vermont. My wound was still giving me grief but had healed up enough that I could easily sit through four hours of driving before Nate made me switch, and again in the second half of the day. Nobody from Vegas had invited us, but I was tempted to suggest that we call in and ask if we could spend the night. Particularly if our worst suspicions turned out to be true, getting a good night’s rest—and some fresh provisions, and maybe even some backup—would make a difference. Nate considered—which in itself already surprised me—but instead decided that we would continue on our current heading, trying to get just a few miles closer to the coast.
It was only when we stopped for the night when Sonia, of all people, brought up something I’d completely forgotten about. “Shouldn’t we be close to the New Angeles beacons now?” That we weren’t was obvious. I would have at least felt them, as my experience riding with Red to catch the boat a few weeks ago had proven yet again. I’d never gotten a look at a conclusive map where they had been positioned, but the people from the settlements clearly knew.
It was Burns who finally voiced what must have been on all our minds at her prompt. “Someone must have deactivated them.”
The implications of that sat dark and foreboding in my stomach, and I wasn’t the only one who kept a weapon ready while eating dinner. Nate was just about to send everyone except the guards to hit the sack—apparently still sated from the last hunting trip—when the radio in the Humvee squawked. Since he was already up, Nate went to get the mic, the vehicle close enough to our fire for all of us to listen in.
“Anyone out there getting this?” someone was repeating—not the same voice as before, if I remembered correctly, but going on the same lack of protocol that seemed to be normal among the scavengers.
Nate—frowning slightly with what must have been annoyance because of that—picked up, but didn’t hesitate to go for a casual response himself. “Hearing you loud and clear,” he reported back. “What’s up?”
“Identify yourself,” the voice responded, harsher now.
Nate’s frown increased. When he glanced at Amos, the scavenger shook his head. No, that wasn’t according to their not-protocol.
“Who’s this?” Nate replied, his voice also taking on a different tone—but more like he was stoned, and definitely not gnashing his teeth at the lack of proper protocol.
Silence followed, then, “What’s your position?”
Amos had gotten to his feet by then to lumber over to Nate, still shaking his head. Nate motioned for him to speak, indicating that the mic wasn’t sending right now. “We never do call-ins like that,” Amos insisted. “Not even when we’re pretending we’re someone who we’re not. We have code phrases just like you assholes do,” he offered, quite jovial—and clearly excluding Nate from the scavengers as they saw themselves.
Rather than respond, Nate reached into the Humvee, not just ending the call without saying another word but also disconnecting the radio from the battery. Hill looked ready to protest, but didn’t when Nate resurfaced, scowling for real now. “We’re moving camp. Now,” he declared. “I don’t think they’ve managed to pinpoint our location, but I won’t risk it.”
Nobody complained, and an hour later we’d set up position ten miles farther south, going in the one direction that was least useful for our journey. It was past midnight by the time we were ready for sleep—only that I felt like I wouldn’t get much rest tonight. My body was screaming for some downtime but my mind wouldn’t shut up. Just as I was about to open my mouth and loudly complain about that—Nate’s elevated breathing rate made it obvious that he was still awake as well—he rolled over to face me, concern etched into his expression. We stared at each other for several seconds flat, no words needed. We both knew what that radio transmission was about—someone must have snatched up the scavengers Harris had sent out to do recon for us, and it stood to reason that those were the same people responsible for the radio silence of the settlements. It could all be coincidence, sure—but considering the random location of the scavengers, the frequency that wasn’t common knowledge, and a million other things, it sounded like a lot of opposition. More opposition than we with our less than forty people could easily meet—and we still had no clue what we were walking into. The only thing that was certain was that tomorrow would likely devolve into another shitshow of epic proportions.
I was a second faster, pushing up and landing on Nate before he could do more than tense to do the same to me. The sudden need for physical contact was almost painful, and he was quick to respond in kind. With frustration and dread so palpable that I could almost taste them, it was a relief to have one way of dealing with that where before only more of the same existed, twining seamlessly with the knowledge that tonight might be the last chance we got for some extended time together. I was doing my best to keep silent, but didn’t really care if the whole camp was aware what was going on.
Right now, it was just the two of us, everything else ceasing to exist—and all was right with the world.
But then it was over, and we both dressed again, ready to either grab a weapon and jump up to defend our position, or run into battle, leaving me feeling hollow rather than invigorated. Nate paused and cast me a glance over his shoulder that so perfectly embodied my feelings that I couldn’t help it and cracked up, his own wry mirth mirrored on his expression.
“Do you ever wonder if we’re doing the right thing?” I asked, mostly musing to myself.
“Never,” he said with a conviction that made me draw up short and look straight at him.
“Never?”
He shook his head. “Not since the day I got the call that my brother was dead. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve made a lot of wrong decisions since then, but mostly because I strayed from what I knew, deep down, is the right path. Getting our people to safety? Coming after Decker? We should have done that years ago.”
“We thought we were doing just that,” I pointed out.
Nate hesitated—which, in turn, made my stomach cramp up in trepidation—but his voice was strong and full of conviction when he replied. “No. We were biding our time, because I was trying to avoid that ultimate confrontation. Because I knew it would come at a steep cost, and I wasn’t ready to pay that price yet.”
“And now you are?”
He shrugged. “What choice do we have? And how
much worse can the consequences get than what we’ve already been through?”
I had a feeling that he had just jinxed us—yet at the same time, I couldn’t help but agree. Me getting infected; him getting abducted; all the friends we’d lost along the way… we couldn’t exactly have prevented all of that, but more often than not, avoidance had led to things getting worse rather than better. Looking back, our two years of exile had bought our friends time to settle and prepare, and for Sadie to give birth to baby Chris, but it had given the other side a lot of time and opportunity to make matters a lot worse.
Now it was time to put an end to that, once and for all.
I was surprised just how ready I felt for that.
Chapter 6
Nate called for a break during the hottest hours of the day. We were still a good seventy miles from our destination, and judging from the frowns plastered on faces all around me, I wasn’t the only one reluctant to halt for two hours, but of course it made sense. We needed to hydrate, eat, and get a little more rest before driving into what might turn into a hell of a long night. My mind still wouldn’t shut up and let me sleep, but lying in the relative shade of the ground level of a partially destroyed building, out of the sun, was still better than driving the car through the near-desert. The area was blissfully free of shamblers, making me guess that whoever had deactivated the beacons had either herded them farther north first, or New Angeles had set to getting them out of their backyard for good years ago. Come to think of it, we hadn’t seen any on the trek to the camp, either. Since that was nothing I could do a thing about right now—and not exactly a concern unless they came back all at once—I did my best to ignore the nagging voice at the back of my mind. Chances were, a streak wouldn’t be the surprise that got us killed today.
Eleven of us knew where the forward sentinel posts were situated. Since three of the positions were more or less in the area we were using as an entry vector, Nate split us up into three groups, making sure that we were staying with Martinez, Burns, and Sonia. We got the southernmost post to investigate while the other two groups split away to the north. It felt stupid to give up the relative safety of numbers, but if that maybe helped with getting closer to the settlement before we got detected… not that I thought it would make a difference. Complete radio silence made it sound like our vanguard had been caught as well, and that last call on the scavenger frequency pretty much confirmed that they had gotten compromised, so why should we be any different? All cars together might have been able to ram right through a roadblock, but splitting up would keep us from that advantage. Yet I kept my opinion to myself, certain that Nate had considered it—and just like the question of whether we should directly involve Vegas, he chose to go our own way. After Marleen, I could more than understand—but I didn’t have to like it one last bit.
Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 4 | Books 10-12 Page 81
