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

by Lecter, Adrienne

  Suddenly on my own without a pacemaker or guide—and quite shaken from the shock and the shockwave both—I slowed down a little, but then gunned the accelerator, surging on ahead. I tried to remember whether I’d seen any markers, but I’d been too far back from the exploding vehicle for that. Just to be sure it wasn’t some kind of previously set-up defensive system, I aimed the ATV a little farther into the plain, which gave Martinez the perfect excuse to shoot by me but slow down almost immediately, falling back to match the speed I was going at. The other two quads were following at a little more of a distance now but they were still there, continuing the surge forward.

  “There was a patch of turned earth there, I think,” Sonia’s partly breathless voice came over the com. “Just like the one up ahead to our two. Let’s avoid that.” Martinez was already course-correcting and I followed suit. Looking farther ahead, I saw a lot more of those the closer we got to the shamblers—and a moment later, one of them tripped another claymore, disappearing into a mist of red, not all of it dust.

  “What the fuck was that?” an unknown, gruff voice asked—likely one of the soldiers.

  “Claymores, buried all over the plain,” Martinez reported back in. “That’s gonna be a problem for you more than us.”

  Cursing followed but cut off immediately when Pia came on the line. “All cars come with four people—one driver, one navigator, and two gunners. Navigator keeps track of what’s going on, easy as that. They won’t have mines where the thick of the fray is, but still keep an eye out for any.”

  Ahead, the sunlight flared across the palisade making up the main defenses of the settlement, setting the slightly weathered wood seemingly aflame. At first I thought I was simply seeing things when something was moving, but then I realized they were opening their gate, a convoy of cars coming out. The ATV ride was too uneven to properly count them but there must have been at least fifteen—and they weren’t done yet. Following at a slower pace behind the cars, two massive harvesters came rolling out, barely fitting through the gate. That confused me at first but I was sure that Minerva knew what she was doing—and I doubted they had chosen this morning to go get some crops. The cars started fanning out to the north and northwest, one of the harvesters slowly trundling after them, while the other continued straight out from the gate. Something about it continued to distract me, but I didn’t have enough focus left to pay much attention to it. Between keeping the ATV at as high a speed as I dared risk and continuing to dodge the patches of turned earth that may or may not have hidden mines underneath, I was about fully occupied.

  And then there were of course the shamblers.

  We were almost at the halfway point when the first didn’t just glance idly in our direction but started surging toward us. With the center mass of the streak toward the settlement, those turning to us were the slow, skeletal ones, too slow to be much of a bother for Martinez and me, but it wasn’t long before the assault rifle of the marine at the very back started barking in uneven intervals, interspersed by the low cursing of its wielder. Apparently, our bumpy ride wasn’t that great for picking out moving targets.

  Then a few more substantial shamblers made a run for us, forcing Martinez to slow down so Sonia could aim. My instinct was to slow down along with them, but I had nobody behind me who I trusted to keep the undead off us, so instead I gunned it—and narrowly missed driving over another mine, partly hidden under some sorry excuse for a shrub. I instinctively wrenched the ATV to the side as soon as I registered the abnormality on the ground, sending it into the higher grass toward the mountains. That was the wrong decision, I realized, when I almost brought it to topple over when the tires got stuck in something I hadn’t seen—some branches or whatnot. Cursing, I reversed, losing precious seconds as I slowly made it around the hidden obstacle and turned the ATV back toward the dust of the plain—only to see two rather beefy zombies vault in huge steps toward us.

  Neither of them reached us—the first’s head exploded as soon as I became aware of it, and the other’s followed a few seconds later just as I ambled the ATV back into the grass. I stared at the fallen corpses stupidly for a second, then wised up and gunned the throttle, picking up speed once more. Between finding where best to drive and avoid further mines, it took me a little to deduce where the shots had come from—and in actuality, it was only after another zombie was felled, maybe twenty yards to our left: someone was shooting from the top of the harvester.

  A little closer now, I could finally make out what had irritated me about the harvester before—besides its very existence on the battlefield: there was movement on top of the huge machine where several people stood, probably lashed to the vehicle with belts or whatnot to prevent them from falling off. From what I could make out, four men were slowly but steadily picking out targets with sniper rifles, while a smaller figure—too small even for most women—was waving colored flags. A quick glance over to the second harvester confirmed that they had a similar setup going on. Too bad that I had no fucking clue what they were coordinating between the two of them, but it didn’t really matter.

  Trusting for now that the snipers had our backs—or fronts, or sides, or whatever—I increased the speed to as fast as I dared go. A second ATV pulled ahead and fell in beside me. It wasn’t Martinez as I’d hoped but instead the one with the marine, still happily chewing into the shamblers slowly turning toward us. I slowed down a little, letting them pull ahead. The com frequency lit up as our cars started to engage with the zombie streak, coming in from the rear. I picked up from their calls that the Utah cars were also gearing up to cut into the mass. Yet the free corridor leading to the settlement was getting smaller and smaller, and we were still a third of the way from the gate. With a sinking feeling in my gut I realized we wouldn’t make it. Well, if I had to, I would smash and kick my way there, dragging Sadie along behind me.

  At first I ignored the pressure on my right thigh, but when Sadie added a loud shout close to my ear, I finally slowed down a little so I could glance back, if not in her face than at least so she’d realize I was paying attention to her. “I think that white flag is for us!” I thought I heard her shout, hard-pressed to make out the words over the com chatter and the assault rifle spewing lead a few feet away from us. Looking forward to the harvester, I saw the flag wielder—likely the adolescent child of one of the snipers, I figured—let out another flurry, but this time I realized that it ended with a repeat sequence, using a set of two white flags, pointing repeatedly away from the grass and toward the shamblers. That seemed like the most idiotic idea ever—until I topped a small rise, and realized that the mines we’d previously circumnavigated were only the beginning. The strip of land in front of us looked partly churned, making it impossible to estimate what was safe ground and what wasn’t.

  So into the fray it was, or at least as close as I dared drive.

  Not that it came to that, as I almost collided with two of our cars that came blasting by us, first putting a kind of physical barrier between our ATVs and the streak, and then opening fire on them. I didn’t get a good look at the first, but the second came with the Ice Queen and Sgt. Buehler pretty much hanging out of the rear windows—secured with rope harnesses to keep them from falling out—shooting into the mass of zombies as fast as they could reload, which was plenty considering who we were talking about here. Someone was stealing a page from my distraction playbook, it seemed, and I so didn’t care.

  I didn’t even attempt to hold back a feral grin as I did my best to match my speed to that of the cars, trying to concentrate less on possible shamblers bypassing our honor guard and more on the terrain. Farther ahead, I saw the snipers up on the harvester switch to assault rifles as well, going for more close-quarter tactics—which were necessary now that they had reached the mass of undead. The harvester managed to keep going forward but at a slower pace, and considering how quickly the bottom half of the vehicle was covered in gore, they were applying the vehicle’s intended purpose to its most grisly use.
I could see the driver up in his cabin, barely above the splash radius, looking concentrated but calm.

  And then we were past the harvester, and past the guard tower, the cars falling away from us to remain close to the vehicle while we blasted on toward the gate. Already, I saw the massive doors opening, a handful of guards on foot stepping out to join those on the palisades above in killing any shambler getting too close for comfort. A hundred feet, fifty, and then we were through, careening into the huge open space behind the gate meant for traders and scavengers to get ready, or as a very convenient space not to crash into each other right now. I let the ATV lose speed as I eased up on the throttle, the steep elevation directly at the gate helping. Swerving in a gentle curve, I let it roll to a halt at the very back where more armed guards were waiting, but also a bunch of civilians, although they didn’t look any less fierce or less armed, to be honest.

  Exhaling slowly, I felt a single shake run through my body as there was suddenly no use for the adrenaline poisoning my blood, but a moment later I was off the vehicle so I could help Sadie scramble down. She almost fell as she stumbled, her legs too shaky to hold her up. I made sure that she was safely leaning against the ATV before I checked my hands to make sure they weren’t caked in gore—they were covered in dust, but that was true for my entire body—before I set to undoing the carrier, doing my very best to reunite mother and daughter as fast as possible. Two guards were quick to join me, helping once they realized what I was up to. I felt like screaming in frustration when my fucking useless fingers wouldn’t let me undo the belts of the harness, but someone else did the trick, and Christine was off me and delivered into Sadie’s shaking arms a moment later.

  Whipping around to look back at the gate, I tore the damn balaclava, scarf, and goggles off my head, only now realizing how stifling the hood had been. Warm morning air hit my skin, doing nothing to cool or calm me down. I should have been able to relax now that we’d made it here, but my mind and body seemed to have a different idea, making me feel like I was just now starting to gear up for a fight for real. Behind us, two other ATVs had come in and stopped, but the last was still missing—Martinez and Sonia. As soon as I realized that, I felt panic twined with rage flare up in my gut, so strong that for a few seconds they drowned out the constant thrum of the fucking beacons—

  The last ATV came sailing through the gate just as it was about to close, Martinez sending it into a masterful, elegant bank, ending with him facing the gate as if ready to depart any moment now. Sonia clapped him on the shoulder once before she hopped off, maybe a little unsteady but definitely safe. Martinez remained sitting, the only one of us smart enough to let his body acclimatize to the sudden relief that came with being out of harm’s way.

  But just because my rage had lost its target didn’t mean it was ready to leave me the fuck be.

  I forced myself to take a few calming breaths as I turned back to Sadie. She was crying again, but this time with obvious relief. That was a very natural, very understandable reaction, but it made me want to slap her, and yell at her to stop being such a baby. A woman and man who had that unshakable calm determination about them that seemed so universal to doctors, nurses, and other first responders were looking after her and the kid now, making it clear that she was no longer my concern.

  Looking back to the gate, I found one of the guards who’d been outside and quickly stepped up to him. “Give me a status report.”

  He gave me a slightly curious look, but whether it was my demanding tone that left no question that I thought I was in command, or the crazy look in my eyes, he was quick to respond. “All the cars are engaged now, three broken down but I think they got the men inside out and into other vehicles. Our snipers have taken out at least three of those undead fuckers with the beacon vests but that means they are staying right where they fell. We need someone to drag them back out into the plain so we can get them away from the gate and further spread out.”

  I slapped him on the shoulder to show I’d understood, which made him look at me cross-eyed. “Perfect. Any more vehicles going out that I can hitch a ride on? If not, get that gate back open for me to run outside in five.”

  The guy didn’t have time to respond when suddenly, the three female scavengers popped up beside me, already armed to the teeth. “Awesome! Where are we going?” the closest one to me—a girl barely past twenty with vaguely Asian features—asked as she pushed an M4 at me—not the one that was still strapped to my ATV. When she saw me glance at the vehicle, she let out a giggle that fit more into a mall or beauty parlor. “We took some spares along for you, seeing as you had your hands full.” She proceeded to shove a pack—filled with minimal provisions, lots of ammo, and some first-aid basics—at me. Pia would have approved of how well it was maintained. Actually, it stood to reason that the Ice Queen had packed it. So much for surprising me with my part in the cargo run scenario. I felt vaguely stupid, only now realizing that Nate and Pia had likely planned it in all the hours they’d apparently not just sat together in silence. Fine with me if it meant I had a gun, plenty of ammo, and what was as close to a fireteam as it was going to get ready to head back out with me. By the time I was done suiting up, the marine had joined us, equally not ready to sit this one out.

  Just then a pickup truck—heavily reinforced for withstanding a shambler onslaught at least for some time—was readied, the gate was pulled open once more, admitting three cars. I didn’t recognize the first two, figuring they were local, but the last was one of the cars that had helped get us to the settlement. I was only so surprised when I saw Nate jump out of the driver’s seat. He wasted only a second glancing to where I was clearly doing fine, and another on Sadie, before he ran over to the other cars, helping them unload their badly wounded cargo—seven men, presumably those from the cars that had broken down. Hamilton was right behind him, helping along, and I could see why in a second. The wounded had not just gotten mauled but were also splattered in gore from what must have been the rescue effort, turning them into one viral hot zone. Glancing at where Martinez and Sonia had perked up, I was glad to see both of them hesitate, the same as the medical staff who were still looking after Sadie and her kid. Fact was, the initial outbreak of the virus had killed too many doctors and nurses that no one could in good conscience risk their lives if it could be prevented. I’d heard Martinez himself rant about it on more than one occasion—and he dutifully ignored the advice, for the most part, where we were concerned—but from what I could tell at a distance, those seven men were going to die, and likely long before the fever from the infection could set in. But there were still some things that could be done for them, like to help them clean up and get comfortable, and anyone not afraid of the virus could lend a hand there.

  Part of me was aware that should have been my cue to run over there, but instead I swung myself up onto the back of the pickup, my scavenger harpies and the lone marine quickly following. The truck was equipped with an entire jungle of belts to let anyone riding on the truck bed shoot or move around without fear of being thrown off, and in short order we’d all found a spot. By the time the truck rumbled toward the gate, Nate and Hamilton were on the way back to their vehicle, ready to join the fray again after a quick respite. I had a certain feeling Nate had used this as an excuse to check up on me rather than a need to lend a helping hand, but maybe I was getting a little cynical in my old age.

  “We’re ready to leave the settlement again,” I talked into my mic after making sure that my com was still working. “Where do you need us?”

  Pia answered less than five seconds later while we were still waiting to get back outside. “Wherever the fuck you want. It’s a free-for-all out here. Make sure to bring melee weapons, because even with all our ammo, we won’t kill more than a third of them.”

  Before I could, one of the girls called down to the guards that we needed axes or baseball bats—and with a few more seconds of delay, we descended back into hell.

  Chapter 11

&nbs
p; On principle, I never doubted the Ice Queen’s assessment, but even less so where all matters of war were concerned. Of course, she had been right with her warning about just how big of a problem the zombies were—but a few minutes into the fight I felt like she massively understated the gravity of the situation. With all the attention that went into driving the ATV, I hadn’t had enough focus to get a good picture of the entire situation, and in hindsight, our decision to go as early as possible with our cargo run had been right—and the only reason that we’d made it through. Like with all streaks, this one also had the weak, frail, easier-to-kill shamblers that barely got enough food to keep on being a menace to all living things. The core of the large mobs was usually built around a group of either super-juiced zombies or at least unnaturally smart ones that had developed tactics that let them hunt food rich in protein and fat, drastically slowing down their deterioration and turning them into a real menace.

  All of us had counted on finding a few of them—but not fresh, super-juiced zombies that were smart and could easily wipe the floor with us, seeing as the virus had fried their pain receptors for good and broken down any inhibitions even the most ruthless human still had. Because, lo and behold, a good third of the zombies seemed to have been scavengers as little as a few weeks ago. Now that was a nasty surprise if I’d ever seen one.

  It made me a little afraid that I’d come face to face with someone I’d known.

  It also made me want to get on the next long-range radio to call Harris and ask him exactly how many scavengers—infected with the wrong serum or not—they’d lost since after the winter we’d been to France. I vaguely remembered that someone—had it been Richards? Greene? One of ours? I really couldn’t pin it down—had mentioned that a lot of the scavenger groups I had personally known and who had supported us were gone, but not in a million years had I expected to encounter them again like this. There was a chance that the faulty serum had killed some, true, but I doubted that had happened within a span of mere weeks.