Green Fields (Book 4): Extinction

by Adrienne Lecter

  Burns found that incredibly funny, but he would—as a demolitions specialist he wasn’t quite that averse to chemistry as some of the others.

  “There’s really no need to continue trying to sell this to me,” I said, hard-pressed not to scoff. “I think we can all agree that we’d rather hit a factory than deliver mail.” It didn’t go by me unnoticed that Wilkes, in particular, seemed very pleased about my answer. “Do you intend to keep it all for yourselves, or will you eventually distribute whatever we bring back?”

  The shrewd look he taxed me with was a downright badge of honor. “Let’s phrase it this way. We are independent up here, particularly if traders and scavengers still drop in at least every few weeks. We are one of the few remaining installations that don’t have to work with the government network. With New Angeles next in line to become a key power player in the emerging new world order, the idea that we can wield some additional leverage isn’t one that robs me of any sleep. On the contrary. I’m sure that in the long run we can all benefit from working together rather than against each other.” I was sure that he hadn’t forgotten about Nate’s musings concerning the winter, either.

  I still asked Nate what he thought about this contract, but he raised no objections when I voiced my opinion that it was probably the next best thing for us to do. Ten minutes later I was standing in front of the video wall, but only used their radio to sign in with Tamara to let her know that we were going to take the contract. Much to my surprise she let me know that someone else had already snatched it up. “But I can try to get them on the line,” she offered. “This sounds like the kind of hit where more people just means more loot for everyone involved.”

  “Anyone we know?” I asked.

  “Probably not,” Tamara replied. “They’re about as bad as you are about keeping their transponders online. Might be a day or two until I hear back from them. They’re still three days away from the target, so if you beat it now, you can rendezvous with them there.” The facility was just outside Alexandria, Minnesota—with luck not an eventful drive. “I presume the guys from the Silo have already told you what they need?”

  That made me chuckle. “Not yet but I think they are keeping their lists ready. They already praised me for being perfect for the mission. Former scientist, playing fetch for the real ones.”

  Tamara laughed, but it had a certain edge to it. “Well, if you don’t mind…”

  “Do I have a choice?” I asked, but answered that before she could. “Honestly, as much fun as it is to sit around and watch endless re-runs of ‘90s sitcoms, I’m about ready to be out there again. I haven’t spent the last year getting into the shape of my life only to fatten up again now.”

  Nate gave me a look that was borderline unreadable—all preferences aside, starvation wasn’t that good a look on anyone—before he signed off. I left it at a silent shrug. Sure, it was nice to be able to let my guard down, but it had been three weeks since Harristown. Three weeks of almost no zombies, no close calls, no endless night shifts just waiting to have to sound the alarm. Not that I was missing having to run for my life, but if I was honest, I was starting to get a little antsy. Not because I needed the thrill—not exactly—but because I was afraid that if I went much longer without it, I would realize that I’d lost what edge I’d built over the winter.

  “Anything on your mind?” Nate asked. Apparently I had stared at nothing for far too long.

  I shook my head. “No. Just being stupid. Why?”

  He gave something between a grunt and a laugh. “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, right. Spit it out.”

  Nate shrugged. “I was just wondering if maybe you weren’t quite that agreeable about joining forces than you let on with Tamara.”

  “Why shouldn’t I be?” I asked, not feigning surprise. “Banding together with Jason’s guys was a great idea. Why shouldn’t we do that again?”

  “You tell me why,” he said.

  “Ah, shut up,” I grunted, looking around. The usual underlying buzz of people working all around us was still going strong, if somewhat more muted than before. That they were eavesdropping on us was a given. “You’re just projecting your own insecurities on me.”

  “What insecurities?” Nate chuffed, giving my shoulder a light push toward the exit. “You’re so eager to beat it? Then relay the good news to our people. I’m tired of them grumbling at me.”

  “Who grumbles?” That was news to me. “No one ever complains to me.”

  “Yeah, and why is that?”

  That was an insult, that much was obvious, but I didn’t deign to act on it.

  “Whatever. I’ll tell the guys, you go harass the nerds about what they need us to fetch. We meet at the cars in thirty.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he acknowledged, giving me a mock salute. Sighing, I turned away, not giving him the satisfaction of the return quip he was waiting for. Sometimes I asked myself why I was putting up with this—but today was not one of those days.

  On the way back to the cars Sunny caught up with us again, looking just that tad bit harassed that raised my hackles. It was that very same look people had when they wanted something from you but were well aware of the fact that they were asking for something you weren’t willing to give. The ghost of a smile on Nate’s face just underlined that—he’d caught it, too.

  Giving the chief scientist a sidelong glance, I decided to end his fretting. “Just spit it out. What do you want?”

  Sunny looked downright appalled, his usually open and friendly face taking on a decidedly pinched expression.

  “It’s less about what I want,” he explained. “More something I have to offer, if you are willing to take it.”

  That was cryptic enough that it made me stop in my tracks so I could look at him better. “What’s with the hedging then? We were happy enough to accept the optics you got for our assault rifles.”

  He opened his mouth but closed it again, and when he finally spoke, it was to Nate rather than me.

  “Two of our molecular biologists got their fingers on the documentation that the government is distributing among those that are working on the cure. The XLC22 documentation, I mean.” It took me embarrassingly long to realize that he was talking about the serum. It had been so long since I’d heard anyone refer to it by its original name that I’d pretty much forgotten it.

  “What about it?” Nate asked when it became obvious that Sunny was waiting for something.

  “As you’ve probably noticed, we don’t have a single one here in the Silo who’s been through that program. But we’ve been compiling a list of the advantages the serum inferred in those that were inoculated with it—“

  “And survived,” Nate interjected, his tone just a little snide.

  Sunny inclined his head. “Of course. My point is, we’ve developed a booster for it.” At Nate’s raised brows, he explained, talking almost too fast for me to understand. “It’s nothing dangerous, or not inherently so. It boils down to the injected equivalent of an energy drink, only that it actually works. The main components are epinephrine, caffeine, amphetamine, ketamine—the usual suspects in all kinds of stimulatory substances. In someone who already has a boosted metabolism it should confer an increased state of alertness, paired with lessened pain sensation. It lets you perform at the maximum of your capabilities, for a certain time frame. Once it’s out of your system, you'll probably feel the effects of overexerting yourself, but nothing you haven’t experienced before, I’m certain.”

  Now didn’t that sound nifty? And like I still hadn’t gotten all the pages of the memo, I had to admit. What was that last part about?

  Nate latched on to a different part of the rambled explanation. “It should confer?” he echoed, now definitely amused.

  “We’re not out of the beta testing stage yet,” Sunny admitted. “That’s why I’m hesitant offering this to you. I have read the files. I know what they did to you. I understand if you’d never want to get anywhere near experimental medication—�
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  Nate made a dismissive sound low in his throat. “If it’s simply to see what breaks first, my fist or a wall made of cast iron, I won’t agree. But if it’s something that might give me an edge out there in a moment when I need it, I’m not necessarily opposed.”

  Sunny practically beamed at him, looking relieved at the same time. “That’s exactly why we were looking into developing it. Your physical skills are already superior to those of others, and you often find yourself in situations where an extra ten percent might make a difference between life or death. Science, in its true purpose, should not just examine but further the human condition. We just didn’t have much chance to test it yet.” At an inquisitive look from me, he shrugged. “A few of the scavengers that dropped by earlier this year let us run a few tests on them. There are side effects, but none that aren’t to be expected. If you run yourself ragged, you will experience exhaustion afterward. But none of them are lethal. They just extenuate the effects you will feel because of the strenuous activities you put your body through.”

  That sounded useful, except for one thing.

  “What if someone like me takes it?” I asked. “Someone who hasn’t gotten the serum in the past?”

  I’d expected Sunny to balk at the very idea, but the chagrined look he gave me proved that they had results on that, too. “I wouldn’t advise it,” he pointed out. “He might end up tired and a little jumpy. To you it would feel as if you’d been burning the candle at both ends—with a blowtorch. You likely wouldn’t go into cardiac arrest, provided that you don’t suffer from a pre-existing condition. There’s a limited risk of suffering a stroke. It would, at the very least, feel rather unpleasant, like a bad acid trip.”

  “You’re speaking from experience?” I guessed, not without humor.

  I got a somewhat dejected look back. “Of course we had to test it on someone. At the very best, one tenth of the dose of someone who has been inoculated is what anyone else should take. But only if they were absolutely desperate.”

  I had no intention whatsoever to get anywhere close to that stuff, but the considering look on Nate’s face made me guess that someone was bound to play guinea pig very soon.

  “How much of that booster can you spare?” he asked.

  Sunny shrugged. “How much do you want? We can easily produce more if you give us a few days' time. How about I give you four doses for testing on the road, and you can always come back for more if you think it’s something that might give you an edge.”

  “Speaking of an edge,” Nate said. “If you’ve been reading up on the original documentation, did you find the formula for the reactive coagulant agent in there, too?”

  Sunny looked a little confused until his face suddenly lit up. “You mean the glue?”

  “Yes, the glue,” Nate agreed, smirking in my direction.

  Snorting, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Yeah, don’t remind me of that. I still have nightmares sometimes.” When Sunny blinked, clearly not getting what was a running inside joke between us, I explained. “Nate here so happened to get speared by a rebar the day the shit hit the fan. He probably would have bled out if Martinez hadn’t glued him up with that shit, whatever it is. And I had the dubious pleasure of cutting all that and the necrotic tissue all around it out the day after. Which reminds me…” I trailed off there to fix Nate with a glare. He was still grinning, the bastard. “Back then, the peanut gallery wasn’t just there to hold you down while I cut you up, right? They were there that should you turn into a fucking zombie they could off you before you managed to chew my fucking face off!”

  Nate was very unimpressed by my rage. “Why do you keep asking things you already know the answer to?”

  Sunny seemed rather impressed by the tale so I didn’t say what else was on my mind. When we didn’t continue to bicker he gave a brief nod. “Yes, we have a batch or two of that glue around. Unlike the booster it’s not really stable for long out there so we haven’t concentrated our efforts on it. But if you think you could use it in the next two weeks or so, you can have that, too.” He paused for a moment. “Do you expect to need it at that facility? I doubt it, honestly. It’s an abandoned factory. Even if there were workers still inside when they turned, they’ve likely long since abandoned the building.”

  “Never hurts to be prepared,” Nate replied. “It works great as adhesive for other things than human tissue, too.” There was definitely a story behind that but I was happy to wait for the explanation until we hit the road again.

  “I’ll get everything for you,” Sunny promised. “Meet you in the hangar bay.”

  He scurried off, leaving us in the middle of the corridor. I raised my brows in silent question, but Nate shook his head. “I’ll explain later.”

  And that was that.

  It was late morning by the time the blast doors of the Silo opened for us again and our column of cars rolled out into the sunshine. After days spent underground in the well-temperated tunnels the heat hit me like a slap in the face, and not for the first time I rued that we’d killed the AC in the car. Fuel efficiency was one thing, but boiling to death wasn’t much better than getting eaten alive. I was sure that the guys at the Silo would have been able to restore whatever damage Martinez had done in the winter. But I already knew that asking was a futile task, as Nate would overrule any suggestion I could bring up. Too bad.

  One dose of the glue and booster were hidden in the dashboard console now, the remaining doses with Pia and Burns. Martinez had been ecstatic about the news, while the rest had taken it with indifference.

  It took us about thirty minutes to make it through the gauntlet of traps and mine fields. Now that Nate knew what to look for, it wasn’t that hard to find the way, but the very idea of just how well secured the area was gave me the creeps. Maybe not that good an idea to bug down here for the winter after all.

  Then it was back to the empty roads, the desolate, beautiful landscape streaking by our windows. Nate kept studying our surroundings as usual, but I couldn’t help but feel like he was avoiding me.

  “So they didn’t just turn you all into potential walking suicide bombs, but they also experimented on you?” I said when I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  I got his typical shrug back that could have meant anything.

  “A lot happened that’s not important anymore now,” he replied eventually.

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  He shook his head, still not glancing in my direction. “Not particularly.”

  “Why not?”

  A muscle jumped in his cheek, and when he did look at me, his expression was unreadable.

  “Because I can’t very well complain about something I did to myself, right? I’ve told you so before. I signed up for this shit. I wanted this. I volunteered. It was no last chance for me, or some kind of salvation. Just inane eagerness to get myself killed for someone else’s ideologies.” He smiled, but it held no humor whatsoever. “Even got my brother killed in the end. So what is there to talk about?”

  “You said you’d explain?” I hedged, not sure if I even still wanted that explanation.

  Nate sighed, stretching out in what seemed awfully close to stalling. “I think you know me well enough that you can read between the lines. Didn’t Stone give you that very same file, back when he tried to lure you into complacency in Aurora?”

  “I only read the science part,” I admitted.

  “And that’s all you need to know, really,” Nate stated, finality heavy in his tone.

  I probably should have continued to bug him about it, but let it slide. He obviously didn’t want to talk, and if I was honest, the idea that they hadn’t just doomed all of their test subjects to eventual zombiedom but also used them as guinea pigs was making me physically sick. And chances had been so damn good that I would have been a part of all that if things hadn’t happened the way they did. That thought, more than any other, made me realize that any lure the labs still had on me was all but gone. I could ge
t behind Dom’s idea of trying to keep everyone vaccinated so that the next generations wouldn’t have to fear measles again, but the rest? However I looked at it, cure or no cure, it always boiled down to that virus that should never have been created and the disaster it ultimately caused. No, thanks. Even if I might have been complaining about the AC again, I’d rather spend my days in an overheating car, out here in the open, than locked away in some bunker, propagating the horror that had already killed billions.

  Nate’s soft laugh made me focus on him again. “Do I even want to know why you’re frowning like this?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “It’s not about you, for once.”

  “Then, please, keep on frowning. I’ve always had a thing for wrinkles.”

  “Oh, just shut up,” I advised.

  Much to my surprise, he did.

  Chapter 21

  We made good progress, and two days later we were in Minnesota. Even in the western parts I could see why they were all about the water here. If not for our—somewhat haphazardly—coordinated meeting place and time with that other scavenger group—the Raiders; very creative—I would have loved to spend a few days at one of the many lakes that we passed, and often had to make detours around. With the zombies not particularly fond of water, this region wasn’t as overrun as we’d gotten used to from Missouri and Illinois, making it downright cozy here, if not as quiet as Montana. The weather held up except for a tornado at the eastern horizon on day three, but we were far enough away that we didn’t get more than a few rain spatters. Well fed and with a purpose on our minds, bickering remained at an all-time low, to the point where I started to get bored. But I’d take that kind of boredom over starvation and constant fear for my life any day, thank you very much.