Burns, sitting next to me, had been listening in silence so far, but now offered his own concerns. “I say we stay away from settlements. We don’t need ‘em, and all they’ve done is get us into greater shit than we’ve been in before. Why not go out there, find a neat place for the summer and spend the next months letting the sun shine on our lazy asses? A sortie a week is enough to keep ammo stocks high and us well fed. Let all that talk of civil unrest fizzle out. In the fall we find some neat cabin up in Canada, hit a few more larger towns to get enough gear to get ready for the winter, and then we wait until we thaw out again. Worked well last winter, and there’s no reason it won’t this year.”
Campbell, two seats down on my other side, agreed with him. “All the shit that’s happened to us was because we thought we had to go help people who don’t even want our help. We should have all bit it in Sioux Falls, but the worst that happened was that Bree cracked her ribs good. Hitting the cannibals and that damn factory wasn’t for our own good, but that’s where we lost our people. Sure, it’s neat to come here and get fed, but between us, we can easily build a water pump, irrigation system, and whatnots you need to have some creature comforts, too. No one thought to add anything to the bunker because we all knew that it was a temporary hideout for just one long-ass winter. I say we leave now and build our own compound. Next year, when we’ve tested and fortified it well, we can open it up for others. After this shit has died down.”
Agreeable murmurs rose from all around, although Pia didn’t look thrilled. I was tempted to tease her about whether she thought that farming was beneath her, but then it occurred to me that she might have another reason against permanent settlements. One upside to being nomads out there was that there were no dependents around that needed to be taken care of—like children. And my, didn’t that thought do its own to make me want to stay on the road forever.
Surprisingly, it was Martinez who spoke up as the voice of opposition. “I agree that we should lay low for a few months, but I don’t think that avoiding the settlements will do us any good except alienate them even more,” he said, looking around the table. “They are scared. They likely still don’t understand what is going on out there. If we don’t want them to become completely dependent on that government network they all think they need to belong to, we need to be out there and show them that they can depend on us. If we give up on civilization, we can’t complain that civilization is giving up on us.”
It would have been easy to disregard his arguments as idealistic, but he had a point. Nate seemed to agree with me on that, speaking up when no one else offered another opinion.
“Consensus seems to be that we take it easier for now. We can always decide later what we do, for winter or otherwise.” His gaze briefly skipped over to me. “We need to replenish our stocks and get some new gear. I’d also like to give Bree some time to get more familiar with her new abilities and limitations. I’m still not quite up to date on what happened since the factory, but I’m sure that there is someone around here who can fill me in on the details. If I’m not completely wrong, our folks in Wyoming won’t be too happy about a complete embargo. Any objections to me calling them and asking what is happening on their end? If they haven’t drunk the Kool-Aid yet, we could drop off one of the radios Wilkes was talking about. Depending on how the general state of the nation is, we could cross the Rockies and try our luck on the west coast.”
Pia looked less than ecstatic but inclined her head. “You mean you want to find out what the matter is with this town, New Angeles?”
Nate gave an ambivalent grunt. “The thought has crossed my mind. Having the Silo for a backup solution is good, but I would like to know more about this settlement—if it could become a second runner-up to withdraw to, if we need to. My first choice is still to just drop off the face of the earth. Objections?” No one voiced any, so Nate sealed that with a nod. “Anyone got any messages I should relay to our guys at the bunker? With luck we’ll see them in a week and you can chat in person, but we all know that Fortuna can be a fickle bitch sometimes.”
Some murmuring followed but no one seemed particularly chatty today. So Nate got up, presumably to go get that intel we needed. I hesitated, but then followed him.
Although it was still early in the morning, the command center was already buzzing with activity. Nate tracked down Petty Officer Stanton, who was very happy to give him a status report about the settlements, scavenger units, and trade routes that were still operational. I should probably have listened in, but I was soon getting bored. When I noticed Sunny sipping coffee at one of the consoles, I hesitated, but then excused myself and made my way over to him. He gave me a borderline hostile look but toned it down when all I was capable of was a flat stare back.
“You’ve come to your senses, I presume?” he asked, not as cautious as he probably should have been.
I had to remind myself again that I’d been just like him—detached, never seeing anything beyond the results. Maybe it was different with social studies, but scientists in general weren’t known for their empathy toward their test subjects.
“Ever ask yourself how the mice feel that you cut up to check whether a gene mutation you wanted to introduce has taken hold in their offspring? Well, I’m that mouse,” I said, hard pressed not to snap at him. From the way he blanched I could tell that he’d finally caught on to why exactly I’d stormed off yesterday, but before he could stutter something that was likely as offensive as it was inadequate, I shook my head and made an appeasing gesture. “Doesn’t matter now. Just tell me exactly how contagious I am, and what I have to pay attention to. Maybe next time… or maybe never. You have the results, and I trust you to deal with them accordingly.”
Sunny nodded, but still took his time to exhale slowly before he glanced at the papers lying to his left. He didn’t pick them up, or tried to shove them at me again, which I was grateful for.
“If you’re careful, it shouldn’t be a problem. There are viral particles in your saliva, urine, and fecal matter but most of them are inactive due to the enzymes working in the different environments. You maybe shouldn’t kiss anyone who can get infected, but I doubt that something like sharing a bottle of water or taking a bite from the same food would cause transmission.”
That wasn’t good enough for me. “‘Doubt’ isn’t exactly a seal of confidence.”
He shrugged. “I cannot tell you that it’s impossible, just highly improbable. You explained so yourself on your last stay here—all of you have come in contact with contaminated matter and none of you got infected unless it was a larger wound.” That was true. I couldn’t count the times I’d had zombie goo on my hands and had accidentally wiped my face, or had small scrapes or cuts somewhere that hadn’t even gotten infected—as in the leaking-pus-and-swelling kind of infected.
“So no making out with anyone not marked up, and maybe not sucking snake venom out of anyone’s leg,” I supposed. Sunny’s mouth opened, ready to offer a comment on the latter, I was sure, but he left it at a curt nod before he went on.
“Exactly. Now, your blood is another matter. Your virus titer is lower than what we’ve found in the samples you brought us, but it’s still high. We have no time-course studies of how the virus multiplies as no one thought of doing any as they got infected, but it should be above the threshold where direct exposure could lead to transmission. We haven’t tested it as mice can’t contract the virus and we don’t have any monkeys on hand—“
He shut up when I glared at him. “And I hope you wouldn’t if you had,” I ground out.
A muscle jumped in Sunny’s cheek, but he didn’t contradict me. “If we had any macaques we would have infected them with the original strain of the virus,” he supplied. “No animal we’ve tried contracts it. Not even pigs. Whoever engineered it made sure that it would only transmit between humans.”
The thing about pigs surprised me a little. Not that I was disappointed not to be attacked by zombie hogs out there, but particularly
with influenza having been part of the original virus, transmission might have been possible.
“You tried? As in someone here?” I asked.
Sunny shook his head. “No. It was mentioned in the documentation that came with the serum trials, and one of the new labs did preliminary testing to confirm that nothing has changed about that since.”
That raised more than just one red flag with me. “What else did they test? Did they do human trials, too?” Sunny looked at me as if I’d gone insane, making me want to call him a hypocrite. “We found one zombie that had extensive needle marks. My guess was that he got infected and then someone took samples, but could have been the other way round.”
The alarm on his face eased some of my residual anxiety. I didn’t know him well enough to judge whether he’d try lying to me, but that genuine look of horror on his face was too real to be pretense.
“You don’t really think—“
“I don’t know what to think,” I admitted. “I just know what I saw. And what happened over the last weeks doesn’t exactly instill a lot of confidence in me where the good of humanity is concerned.”
He nodded, if grudgingly. “I guess I see where you’re coming from—“
A cold look from me was all it took for him to fall silent. “I don’t care if you understand my motives.” I had to take a few breaths to calm myself again, doing my best not to look at the stack of papers on his desk. “Thanks for screening me. And for not singling me out. I’ll do my very best to make sure that my viral load stays with me.”
Disappointment crossed his features but he actually extended his hand for me to shake. “My pleasure. Should you change your mind about the rest of the data, I’ll keep it right here at the Silo. We’ve only been working with off-line computers for analysis, and all samples are already destroyed so no one else has access to them anymore.” That gave me enough of a painful twinge deep inside that breathing got hard for a couple of seconds, but Sunny kept on talking, pretending not to have noticed. “The database is updated. You’re officially added to the serum roster, with the annotation that you were part of the vaccine trials. If anyone should ask why your serum protein profile was different in Aurora, we will tell them that the methodology over there was flawed. You shouldn’t let untrained personnel conduct important tests.”
“Thanks,” was all I managed to reply.
“You’re welcome,” Sunny said, looking from me over to where Nate and Stanton were still talking. “Looks like they want something from you.” At my glance over I caught Nate’s nod that let me know that he was about done.
Turning to Sunny, I forced myself to swallow the perpetual lump in my throat. “I’ll keep you updated, should I notice any unexpected changes.”
“You do that,” he said. I waited for him to offer up anything else—condolences, or some inane attempt at a pep talk—but he pretty much dismissed me as he turned back to his computer. I gave myself a mental shake as I returned to Nate, deciding that it was in our best interest to at least pretend like I was ready to move on. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice.
“What did we miss?” I asked, glancing from Nate to the printed-out map that he held in his hand.
“Rumor mill is still going strong,” he explained. “No one knows anything concrete. Dispatch is on high alert. Some of the settlements haven’t even realized anything is going on. The traders are scared. The scavengers are out for blood. There’s no telling how the bounties on our heads will reflect on us. Might get us shot on sight in some places, or invited for a drink in others. Elsewhere people say it’s all propaganda because no one would pull a stunt like the factory. Or survive it. Everyone has an opinion, and no one knows the truth.”
“Sounds just like politics,” I offered. Before I could say more, one of the radio techs signaled at us to come over.
“Call just came through for you,” she explained. “From Luke’s Chargers?”
I couldn’t help but crack a smile at the mention of Jason’s guys. If there was anyone out there that I considered on our side, it was them.
“Are they still on the line?” Nate wanted to know.
“Waiting for you,” the tech replied. “Signal isn’t good because they’re using their car radio, but strong enough.” As we joined her at her console, she flipped a switch, sending static out of the small speakers of the workstation. “Front Charger, you’re live,” she said into the air between us, making me guess that she’d also turned on the microphone.
It wasn’t a male voice that answered, though, but Sadie—Emma and Bert’s daughter. “Thanks. Nate? Can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear,” Nate replied, smiling slightly at hearing her voice.
A noticable pause followed, and when she came on again, Sadie sounded slightly harassed. “How ya holding up? I wasn’t sure if I’d hear from you again after our last talk.” I raised my brows at him, but he shook his head. He’d explain later. “But we got this weird bulletin yesterday, and I thought I’d try the Silo to see if they knew more…” She trailed off there.
Ever the asshole, Nate let her hedge on without alleviating her obvious concern.
“As good as can be expected, I guess,” he replied.
“You’re sounding a little strange,” Sadie noted, her tone still careful and soft. “Did you catch a cold?”
I couldn’t help but snort, while a sardonic grin flashed across Nate’s face.
“You mean why I sound so weird? Busted nose. Burns did a shit job setting it yesterday and I had to re-break it this morning.”
“Why—“ she started, but cut herself off there in favor of asking, “Did you deserve it?”
Nate gave me a sidelong glance as he replied. “Bree seems to think so.” At my glare, he relented. “Guess I did. This time.”
The pause that followed was heavy enough that I couldn’t let this go on any longer. Clearing my throat, I said, “I’m here, Sadie. He’s not talking about a figment of his imagination.”
“Oh my fucking—“ Sadie cried, but censored herself almost immediately, pitching her voice from a screech to more human registers. “Why didn’t you tell me? I spent the last week trying to decide what to say to maybe try to cheer you up, and now you tell me that there’s no need to?”
Nate replied with a low chuckle. “I still have a busted nose—“
“So what, I have bruised knuckles,” I interrupted him, maybe a little sharply. Exhaling forcefully, I made myself calm down again before I went on. “Thanks, Sadie, I really appreciate it. Good to know that should I bite it after all, someone’s going to look after him in a way that doesn’t involve collective suicide.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied, but the momentary elation and levity quickly drained from her voice. “Listen, do you guys mind dropping by here soon? Unless you’re heading for Canada, we’re practically on the way.”
Glancing at Nate, I saw the same indecision on his face as I felt. Did I want to see Sadie and everyone who’d remained in Wyoming again? Sure thing. But there were the bounties, and everything else that was going on. Wyoming might have declared itself neutral—and there were those radios to distribute—but that didn’t mean that we were welcome.
Nate cleared his throat. “Not sure that’s such a good idea at the moment,” he offered.
“But you have to come!” Sadie cried before she continued a little less frantically. “Dave said he has something to tell you, but he’s not comfortable communicating over the radio. You know him and Kevin, old conspiracy nuts that they are. It’s probably nothing, but you won’t know until you get here, right? Could be important.”
Nate still wasn’t convinced. “Sadie, I’d love to drop by, but—“
She was quick to interrupt him, her voice almost breathy. “You know that I’m your favorite not-niece. You’re obliged to come running when I call.”
Sudden tension made the muscles at the side of his jaw stand out visibly, but he ignored my alarmed look. His voice was practically a drawl as he
said, “Sure thing, sweet cheeks. We’ll drop by in a couple days from now.”
“Awesome,” Sadie enthused. “Looking forward to seeing you all soon!” With that, she ended the connection, making me scowl at Nate.
“What was that about?” I asked. “And I’m not even talking about the grammatical atrocities.” I’d overheard them more than once speaking with each other at a level that any Oxford English professor would have approved of.
Nate didn’t look happy as he turned to me and shrugged. “Code phrase and confirmation. It’s something we’ve been doing since she was old enough to understand that sometimes when I call I can’t tell her everything that’s going on. And before you ask… No, I have no idea what’s going on, but she needs us, so that’s where we’re going.”
“You are aware that this could be a trap?” I asked, guessing that I was stating the obvious.
Nate shrugged, but he didn’t look particularly disturbed. “I doubt it. Of course this could be a truly elaborate scheme where someone captured the transponder from Jason’s car, or is mimicking its ID, and forced Sadie to say those exact words, but I trust her that she would have managed to sneak in at least a weird phrase that would have tipped me off. It’s probably nothing grave; just grave enough that she doesn’t want to run it past her mother.”
That made sense—a lot more so than the stable of conspiracy theories that had piped up in my head at his explanation. Well worthy of Dave, I had to admit.
“You mean like when she pulled you aside before our last loot run to Cody in the fall so you’d fetch her some contraceptives?”
Now he did look alarmed—comically so. “She said she needed the pill because otherwise her cramps were bad.”
It was suddenly hard not to laugh in his face. “Yes, Nate, any seventeen-year-old girl asks her godfather to fetch her something her parents might frown upon out of earshot because of cramps. Because being a responsible female adult can’t be the reason for it.” I might have smirked a bit, making him scowl—although that could have been because of the implications just the same.
Resurgence: Green Fields book 5 Page 17
