Green Fields (Book 2): Outbreak

by Lecter, Adrienne

  “So what’s the plan?” I asked when no one did anything except eye the passing mob wearily.

  Nate shrugged. “We wait.”

  “For what? That one of them glances to the side, sees us, and the whole horde comes chasing into the forest?” If I didn’t sound very happy about that idea, tough luck, because I really wasn’t.

  Pia gave a bark of laughter that made me stare at the zombies with even more alarm, but none of them seemed to have noticed. “Why chase us when they have their all-you-can-eat buffet right out there? We’re probably safer here than we’ve been all day.”

  I couldn’t believe that no one else spoke up, but unlike me, the others seemed content to relax for the moment. Nate gave me a look that spoke volumes of how amusing he found my fretting, but I chose to ignore it. Fact was, I was damn tired after two days of little rest, but I doubted that I would get any quality downtime out of our wait.

  Just as the first of the group started to settle in and drop their packs, I heard a distinct noise coming from our right—east, I guessed—but except for trees and zombie-infested road, I couldn’t see anything. But I wasn’t the only one who noticed, because Andrej had his binoculars out again and was staring in that direction. Over the next minutes the noise increased, until I could just make out what the irregular cadence might be.

  “Are those gunshots?”

  Andrej kept watching, until he grimaced and handed the glasses to me. “Something like that.” Nate and the two guards were also looking, wearing similarly perplexed expressions on their faces. “You got to be fucking kidding me,” one of them muttered.

  Searching, it took me a little while to find the source of the increasing din, but when I finally zeroed in on it, I blinked several times, not sure if I wasn’t hallucinating. The noise was indeed gunfire, coming from two quads that were racing along the lawn strip of the northern lanes of the highway, more precisely from the figures perching on the rear seats. As they drew closer still, I could also hear them screaming and whooping, just as if they were taking a ride at an amusement park.

  “Drugs can do terrible things to people,” Nate deadpanned when I stared at him, my mouth probably hanging open. “But to answer your previous question—I think what we’ve been waiting for is just coming down the road.”

  I wondered for a moment if I was suffering from a psychotic break. Not that I didn’t have cause for that aplenty.

  “Are you shitting me?”

  He shrugged. “You weren’t too thrilled about waiting until the mob passes. Figured you’d be ecstatic that we can now use this distraction.”

  “You seriously want to run through a zombie mob that gets all riled up over some weirdos randomly shooting at them?”

  “And going at high speed which will make all the zombies focus on them, yes,” he added.

  I really didn’t know what to reply to that. And I didn’t like the “plan” one bit.

  “For the record, if we all die out there, I’m coming back as a ghost to haunt your ghost ass for eternity.”

  Nate didn’t looked fazed by that.

  “I think it’s much more likely that you’ll turn, provided they don’t eat you. Which is much more likely still.”

  “You’re so not helping,” I grumbled.

  All around us, the others were getting ready, and still no one was protesting this insanity. Even without binoculars, I could now make out the four figures on the two vehicles, coming ever closer in swerving, winding lines as they piloted around the thicker clusters of zombies or cars and trucks that had ended up on the green strip. A few of the faster zombies tried reaching for them, but most were too slow—and the lucky few who weren’t ended up as yet more roadkill on the asphalt, much to their fellow shamblers’ delight.

  “Listen up,” Nate called out—if softly enough not to attract undue attention. “This is how we do it.” He explained his—in my opinion still completely whacked—plan. Like the night before, we would split up into groups, but this time we’d make a run for it all together at the same time, thus trying to minimize the risk for the individuals. There was no way in hell that this was going to work, but when I noticed that Skip and Steve were eyeing me with a cautious kind of disdain, I kept my trap shut. I certainly wasn’t going to remain behind, and for a moment the knowledge—hope, really—that Andrej and Nate would make sure that I’d make it across unscathed almost made it worth the general craziness of the undertaking.

  But really, what would have been the alternative? Wait, sure, but none of us knew if the zombies would really move on, or maybe get followed by yet more. I didn’t know the Interstate well but there weren’t many roads bridging it, and I only knew of a single one going under, but that was much closer to Wheeling, and likely overrun. And backtracking until we were far enough south to find another route didn’t sound that appealing. At least the terrain seemed to level out somewhat on the other side of the highway, making walking just a little less torturous.

  Groups formed mostly organically, and as I’d expected, I ended up with what remained from my team from last night. I wondered if I should ask that guy for his name, but considering what had happened to his buddy, I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to know.

  And then the ATVs raced by, turning every zombie head around and making them surge after them, and a hard shove against my pack got me staggering out toward the highway. The idiots on the quads were still whooping and shooting, but already I saw the attention of the shamblers turn elsewhere, at least those who were already busy with picking apart other remains, or for whatever reason not keen on meals on wheels. I was second in line now, with Andrej to my right and Nate just behind my left shoulder, almost caging me in. The guy in front of me was heading straight for the piled up rows of cars, aiming for a gap where a minivan had ended up sideways, creating a somewhat larger open space. As soon as I was close enough to see the road between the cars, I knew why.

  There was a veritable crowd of zombies crouching on the floor over what looked like the remains of an entire family. I averted my eyes as soon as they fell on a bloody, shredded teddy bear, a small hand still clutching the fur.

  Veering to the right, I made a turn around the van, but there were more zombies standing on the other side. The spot must have shielded their view of the quads—and now they were staring right at me.

  I tightened my grip on my bat, ready to bash it into any snapping face that was coming right at me, but the blank stare skipped right over me after a second, before the zombie turned back to what it had been occupied with—the dark clumps on its chin and chest looking like fur. Barely daring to breathe, I stepped further to the right to bring another car between me and that feast, even if that meant that I had to scramble over the hood because it was flush with the bumper of the next one. Andrej was right behind me, his eyes remaining on the zombie until we had both cleared the car. Nate must have gone around the other side of the van.

  A few more shamblers were crouching and standing around, but they ignored us just the same. Somehow, that was even more creepy but I was so not going to protest. And I had the sinking feeling that it wasn’t going to last.

  The second row of cars was easier to get through, and I scrambled onto another hood to get over the crash rails and into the strip in the middle. For whatever reason, that part was free of zombies, and left and right of me I could see a few others fight through the thick vegetation there, Nate among them, much to my relief. Andrej was there to help me over the next rails—and that was where the problems started.

  Just as I’d expected, the zombies much closer to where the quads had zoomed by were agitated and restless, and as soon as they saw us, they came right at us. I had just enough time to find my balance after dropping onto the lane between two cars before the first was reaching for me, screeching with delight. Swinging my bat, I did my best to keep it at bay, but it didn’t even seem to notice when the aluminum crashed into its shoulder. Bloody, dirt-crusted hands reached for me, and a wave of nauseating odor swept over
me. Stepping back, I almost toppled onto the hood of the car again, but that gave me another idea. Sliding back until I found purchase with my ass, I used that to kick out, hitting the zombie squarely in the chest. That made it stagger, just enough so I could ease around it and make a run for the other side.

  Claws were reaching for me and that terrible howling rose from behind me, but I didn’t look back. Someone was stupid enough to fire some shots, making all zombies surge in that direction, and I bailed. The moment I skipped around the last car I broke out into a full run, forcing my aching body into one more lightning dash. I was among the first who made it, which came with the disadvantage of a few zombies tagging right after me, but the wet, dull, thudding sounds behind me made me guess that Andrej took care of that. Almost out of sight of the highway, I finally slowed and turned around, hefting my bat but hoping that I wouldn’t have to use it.

  I was just fast enough to duck when one of the quick zombies reached me, smart enough not to howl so it took me by surprise. Staggering by me, it still managed to grab onto my pack, throwing me off balance as it pulled with more force than someone who had been slighter and shorter than me should have the right to possess. I went down before I could decide whether I should try shucking my pack, my left hip taking the brunt of the fall. The zombie growled, still tearing at my pack, but let go when I kicked out hard and hit it in the knee. Scrambling to my feet, I went right after it, swinging my bat in the general direction of its head. Too stupid to really defend itself, I managed to hit it in the head, and when it went down, I kept on swinging. The sounds that the caved in skull made as I kept hitting it made me sick, but adrenaline made me crazy enough to ignore that.

  The zombie stopped moving and I sprang back, bat at the ready, looking around for my next attacker. Andrej was busy finishing off another one, and a few yards away I could see a few more of our group huddled together, watching, exhaustion plain on their faces. Somewhere someone was screaming, and it didn’t sound like the zombie howls. Panting heavily, I tried to shut down the realization of what was going on, but there was no sense to that. One of us hadn’t made it, and now the zombies were eating him. At least I presumed that it was a guy as I could see the Ice Queen’s blonde head among the stragglers who joined us now. Another shot rang out and the screaming stopped, but I immediately felt resentful because now the zombies would just snap back to attention.

  “Move,” Pia hollered at us, not stopping as she ran through the trees, away from the highway. With fear and adrenaline still going strong, I didn’t hesitate but just fell in step behind her, panting as I forced my legs to start moving again. All that was left to do was run.

  Chapter 8

  A small eternity later—likely closer to an hour and a half—we’d finally gotten away from the last, most persistent zombies. And by that I of course meant that someone had stabbed or sliced or clubbed them to death. Unlike with Smith, waiting for them to bleed out wasn’t an option anymore. Unless it stopped moving, it wasn’t finished off yet. Although I figured the one that Burns left behind with broken knees and hips counted, too, although it was still trying to come after us, dragging itself forward slowly with its hands.

  The screamer hadn’t been the only one we’d lost, it turned out. Both of the hunters had gone down after they’d been stupid enough not to heed Pia’s directions not to fire their guns if they could help it. One more of our guys, and the one of the guards from the barricade who wasn’t Santos had found their end on the highway. Several people were limping and I didn’t want to think about what tomorrow morning would bring, if today was any indication. No one said outright that they’d been bitten, but I doubted that all of the wounds sustained were just blunt force trauma. But for now we were dragging on, the setting sun ahead and slightly to the left.

  I figured I should feel bad when relief only swept through me as I’d assured myself that Nate was still there, and looking relatively unscathed—but I just couldn’t find it in me.

  After the forest, we’d walked across several fields until we found a small access road that was just deserted enough to make for better going. With exhaustion dragging on all of us but fright still too fresh for anyone to want to stop, we dragged ourselves on in a spread-out line over almost a mile. At first, I’d been eyeing every bush and tree large enough to conceal anything with anxiety, but for the past minutes just putting one foot in front of the next without stumbling took all my remaining energy. If we didn’t find shelter soon, I’d likely fall asleep on my feet, and if a zombie happened by and ate me, I’d probably not find the will to give a shit about it anymore.

  Ahead, Pia stopped as the sentries came back, both looking just as tired as I felt. They remained with her, clearly waiting for the rest of us to catch up. As soon as I got there, I let myself drop into the grass at the side of the road, not caring whether I would be able to get up again or not.

  “I think we’ve found something,” she explained as soon as the last had caught up to us. “It’s hell to defend, but remote enough that we probably won’t have to. Looks like some out-of-the-basement radio station.”

  At Nate’s raised brows, one of the sentries shrugged. “There’s a sign. And we saw something move behind the curtains, but no banging. Might actually be someone hunkered down in there.”

  I wondered just how happy they’d be about us barging in—or whether they’d be left a choice about that. Even exhausted, we still had our weapons, and whoever was inside likely couldn’t tell that we’d been on our feet almost since the beginning of this.

  Unless, of course, they were some crazy assholes or something who’d put traps and mines all over their yard and we wouldn’t even get close to the house. Being blown up had lost a lot of its horror, though.

  “Let’s try not to antagonize them from the get-go,” Nate said. “If there’s a chance that they’ll let us stay, we’ll go for it.”

  With that decided, we set out again, Nate, Pia and the four mercenaries who looked the least like they were about to keel over in front, and the rest of us following. I wondered if I should have put away my bat—I’d cleaned it on some grass, but it was still smeared with dirt, and a little dented—not feeling like I still had the strength to use it, should I need to.

  Soon we came to the aforementioned sign—spelling out what seemed to be a random acronym—right next to an even smaller, unpaved road that I likely would have missed if not for the sign. Everyone around me readied their weapons, tension ratcheting up, but Nate signaled them to keep them down. Slowly, we made our way down the road, across a bridge spanning a small creek, and onto the property. There was no gate, and beyond the part of the road that widened into a driveway I saw a quaint little house, half hidden between willows and birches. The rays of the setting sun were turning the white paint a burning orange, and the entire atmosphere was quiet and peaceful.

  It could only be a matter of minutes until something terrible would happen. I just knew it.

  Nate and Pia were cautious as they approached the front door, halting halfway to the steps leading onto the porch.

  “Hello? Someone in there?” Nate called out, loud enough to scare a few birds from their perch on the branches overhead, and making me jump.

  There was no answer, but I thought I saw movement at the curtains of the window next to the door.

  “We mean you no harm,” he went on. “But we’ve been out there for two days, and we could really use a place to crash for the night.” He paused, looking back over our huddle of misfits. “You probably don’t know how bad it is out there, but it’s bad. None of us are infected, if you’re worried about that. And we’re happy to help you out if we can.”

  I had no idea what we could have helped with—splitting firewood or something? Until it occurred to me that even if someone in the house was still normal, that didn’t mean that they didn’t have a former loved one locked away in a closet somewhere.

  Before I could come up with yet more gruesome ideas, I heard the telltale sound of locks dis
engaging, and a moment later the door swung open. It revealed a man, at least in his late seventies, a rifle in hand, but he didn’t look like he wanted to use it. Nate froze, but then slowly raised one hand and made a downward motion, signaling his people to put their weapons down. I didn’t feel particularly happy about that, but the man didn’t look very threatening. He seemed a lot more frightened of us, and I figured we’d still have a good chance to dive out of range if he really shot at us.

  “As you see, we are not defenseless,” he said, his voice pressed and raspy. “Just so you don’t get any funky ideas.”

  Nate took a step forward, still moving with slow, deliberate motions, his body language open and friendly.

  “Noticed, sir. Thank you for talking to us.”

  The man looked from Nate to the rest of us, his gaze briefly stopping on Pia—but in no world would she have appeared as a noncombatant, even if she’d been wearing a pink tutu—until it zoomed to me. I tried to smile but my facial muscles just wouldn’t respond. With Skip and Steve ready to fall over next to me, we must have made quite the picture in between the more grim soldier-y types around us.

  “That all of you, or you got more hiding in the woods?”

  Nate shook his head. “It’s just us.” And those few words said a lot more than just that.

  The man hesitated for another moment, but then eased up, bringing the rifle down to his side. He was still conflicted, but then I heard a female voice call out behind him.

  “Gerry, stop acting like this. Let these poor people in!”

  Gerry looked actually chagrined for a moment, but Nate managed to smile at him quite charmingly.

  “We understand, don’t worry. And we don’t want to drag any dirt into your house, ma’am. Do you maybe have something for us to clean up with? A garden hose, or a tub where we can pull water from the creek?”

  “Just use the water from the rainwater barrel,” she advised, still from behind Gerry. “But you can clean up inside. We don’t have any hot water because the power’s been out and Gerry won’t waste the generator on that, but we can heat some up on the stove.”