Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 2 | Books 4-6

by Lecter, Adrienne

  The corner of Nate’s mouth quirked up into a teasing smile. “I thought you didn’t like it when I lie to you.”

  “And I don’t. The truth just sucks sometimes.”

  He snorted. “Well, ain’t that the truth.”

  Silence fell, and this time it was that comfortable, familiar kind. Nate remained lying on his back, but all too soon his breathing became heavy before it turned into light snoring. I wished I could have fallen asleep just like that, but as exhausted as I was, rest was a long way from coming. And it wasn’t just the static noise buzzing inside my head. Even shifting slightly still hurt enough to tear me right out of the light slumber I eventually managed. At least the splitting headache the sunlight had given me slowly receded, but that was about it.

  It must have been hours later—it certainly felt like weeks—when something jerked me fully awake again. A glance at Nate revealed that he was still sleeping soundly, if somewhat more soundlessly now, curled up on his side. I held my breath as I listened into the night—nothing. Probably just my imagination. Who could have faulted me that?

  I was just about to drift off again when my mind startled awake once more. Something was wrong, I just knew it. Or not wrong, but going on. A diffuse feeling of agitation took hold of me, as if something was calling to me, drawing me closer. It took a few minutes until I could pinpoint it, and I felt myself deflate when I realized that it was coming from the direction of the oak tree. Of course. It had probably been stupid to expect that I would be able to sleep at all tonight, and likely a testament to just how tired I was that I’d managed, if barely. Staring up at the ceiling, I laced my fingers over my chest, counting my breaths. Maybe going out there had been a mistake. Maybe not knowing, not seeing would have been better. I would never know.

  My thoughts turned sluggish, making thinking hard, so I just let my pain and grief wash over me. One more life lost, like so many others. And just like with all the others I would learn to cope. Learn to move on. Learn…

  There it was again, that latent buzzing just outside of what I could actually make out with my senses. Calling to me. Drawing me closer. Making my skin itch, the hairs on my arms stand on end. Frowning, I sat up, grimacing at the residual discomfort the motion caused. This was starting to freak me out. I knew all too well just how miserable my guilty conscience could make me feel, but this? This was a little too visceral to simply be a figment of my imagination.

  I considered shaking Nate awake, but he looked so peaceful asleep that I couldn’t quite make myself. He’d gotten even less sleep than me, and probably needed every minute of it. Sagging back into the pillow that had long ago stopped being a creature comfort and had since turned into a torture instrument, I resumed my quiet introspective.

  Then a second something out there joined the first, if coming from a different direction, seemingly further down the road that led by the motel. It was weaker than the other, but gained strength over the next minutes. Like the first, it came and went, not a constant buzzing, but unnerving me every time it reappeared. I checked my forehead, but while there was residual clamminess from the less than cool night air making me sweat all over, my temperature had dropped to its usual point. Of course this could all be in my imagination… only that I didn’t buy it.

  A whiff of something tickled my nose, making my sluggish thoughts grind to a sudden halt. I was wide awake within moments—not just awake, but my pulse was racing, adrenaline leaking into my blood. Inhaling deeply, I tried to discern what had caused my heart to trip into overdrive, but deep down I already knew what it had to be. Nowadays there were few things out there that my instincts responded to quite like that. True enough, on the third inhale I could pinpoint it: the lingering scent of decay, like an animal rotting away underneath the floorboards of an old house.

  Leaning over, I clamped one hand over Nate’s mouth, the contact enough to immediately startle him awake. He didn’t make a sound, and after a moment of staring at me with wide eyes he reached up to lightly tap my arm, the sure signal that he knew to stay quiet.

  “They’re out there,” I said, my voice as low a whisper as I could pitch it.

  In the dim light I saw him frown, but not with disbelief.

  “You sure?”

  “I can smell them,” I replied. Not just that, but now was not the time to share that new tidbit.

  Nate gave a curt nod as he rolled out of the bed and onto silent feet. The carpet muffled any sound he might have made as he snuck over to the window to glance out beside the boards covering the others. I followed him, compressing my lips as I bit back a groan. Yeah, a few more days to heal would have been great.

  From the way he tensed I could tell that he’d seen something out there. Pushing myself against him so I could glance outside, I quickly cast around. It only took me a couple of seconds to pinpoint the exact location that buzzing feeling was coming from—from across the road, maybe half a mile out. The zombie was too far away to really see it, but I could tell that it was moving at the center of a small crowd of them that was, slowly but surely, coming our way. And they weren’t alone. Craning my neck, I tried to get a better look all around, but there was simply not enough room. Even so I counted easily fifty of the undead shamblers, trudging all over the road and surrounding fields. A few had made it into the parking lot, but only one seemed interested in the car parked by the stairs, if only cursorily so.

  “Shit,” Nate muttered, low enough that I barely caught it.

  “You think?” I replied, unable not to share his sentiment. He glanced my way, then stepped back into the room to get his night vision scope. I didn’t really feel like laughing at the grim look that took over his face as he scanned the lot once more.

  “Guess that answers your question from earlier,” he whispered.

  It was definitely time to go.

  Chapter 5

  Theoretically, we could have chanced staying, but neither of us brought up that possibility. With maybe ten or twenty zombies, it would have been a gamble. With more than three times that—and who knew how many more following—it wasn’t an option. Sooner or later they would start tearing apart the car, and if I could smell what we’d left behind in the other rooms, so could they. From what we’d seen in the past, they could be investigative little fuckers, and tonight was not the time to test if they’d stop two doors down from finding something that might have been interesting to them.

  That, of course, left only one option: flight. After my glorious descent of the stairs earlier, I really wasn’t looking forward to this.

  Packing our things was the easy part. There was nothing in the room that couldn’t be left behind, and Nate had never bothered unpacking what little provisions we still had. Two bottles of water and a handful of cans didn’t even weigh down his pack. It only took him about a minute to get into his gear and strap on his weapons. My gear? What was left of it was in the car, but I had a certain feeling that if I’d been forced to wear the heavy, reinforced clothing rather than the shorts and tank top I was in now, I would have keeled over on the spot. I wasn’t quite as defenseless as a newborn, but not a long shot from it. Speed was still my best chance.

  And, who knew? Maybe I didn’t even smell like food to them anymore.

  That thought was one I kept to myself. What I didn’t was my assessment of what would happen once we’d managed to—somehow—make it to the car. “I’m driving.”

  Nate gave me a look that was a breath away from incredulous. “You can hardly stand up straight—“

  “Then be glad the car still has seats,” I whispered right over his protest. “I didn’t say I want to drive. But can you? Out there, tonight, with the clouds obscuring what little moonlight there is? The scope may be good enough for spotting any moving targets, but you won’t see a single bump in the road or pothole. You need me to drive.” I didn’t point out that in the event that we had to shoot, he was the only one of us who’d hit anything. If it came to that, we were likely toast. Just starting the car and letting i
t rumble down the road would already send the zombies into overdrive. Suddenly, that idea the guys at the Silo had with their electric engine wasn’t half as harebrained as it had seemed at first glance.

  Nate’s jaw stood out hard as he gnashed his teeth, but after a few seconds of deliberation he gave a curt, reluctant nod. “Do you think you can make it down the stairs on your own? I’m afraid that if I have to carry you, the friction of fabric against fabric will be enough to make some of them at least curious.”

  I nodded, although I didn’t like the idea one bit. Then again, it was the same if it took me one minute or five to get down those stairs, as long as I managed not to make a sound.

  Nate hesitated for another moment, but there was no sense to it. Reaching for the door, I turned the knob and eased it open, momentarily shivering as the cool night air rushed in. I winced as the hinges creaked, but from what I could tell none of the shamblers down in the lot noticed. Looking left and right to make sure that the way was clear, I stepped outside, gingerly putting my foot down on the concrete. The stairs were only four doors down, but rather than head there directly, I stepped toward the bannister to look into the lot. Just as I’d feared, there were more shamblers lurking down below already, several of them congregating at the bottom of the steps. Nate followed me, and at a glance down he pulled me back, signaling toward the other stairs. Taking those forced us to do a good five-minute detour of slowly sneaking along the entire length of the building, but at least the way was clear. By now it was impossible not to smell them, and as silent as they were for a horde of undead, they still made enough sound as they moved to pinpoint their locations easily.

  A sudden gust of wind made the door of our room slam shut, startling me enough to jump, but thankfully not scream. Heads all over the lot snapped in that direction, and barely a moment later the first two zombies came up the stairs—the other stairs, thankfully. I didn’t need Nate’s gentle push against my arm to make me start down toward the lot, using the rush over there to disguise my steps. He remained behind me for the first five agonizing steps, but then eased himself by me and down, pausing only for a moment to point from me to the car. I nodded, taking a second to catch my breath. Walking on even ground wasn’t that hard, but stairs? Not my favorite architectural element right now.

  Within moments he’d disappeared in the shadows at the bottom of the stairs, silently melting away. I wished I was already down there, not fully exposed as I was right now. I still forced myself to wait until I stopped panting from discomfort before I eased myself down the next few steps, holding onto the rails to try to take as much weight off my wounded leg as possible. About the pain in my abdomen and chest I could do nothing. Before long I was sweating like a pig, my teeth clenched so hard that I was surprised that their grinding noise didn’t alert every single zombie in the state. But I forced myself to keep moving, even if it was at a snail’s pace.

  Even without looking, I could tell what Nate was doing—trying to dispose of as many zombies in the lot as quietly as possible. Already there were several heaps on the ground, unmoving. So far he hadn’t drawn any attention to himself, but it was only a matter of time until he’d slip up, or one of the shamblers would put up just enough of a fight to alert the others. The buzzing at the back of my mind had turned to a constant annoyance, but at least it let me gauge that we still had about five minutes, maybe ten, until the two sources would converge on us. Splendid.

  I was ready to just drop to the ground by the time I made it down the very last step, my body shaking so much from exhaustion that it was hard to keep holding on to the rail. Right next to the stairs I saw the slumped bodies of two permanently dead zombies, but already three more were coming in my direction, either drawn by the promise of food or because they’d seen me. Swallowing thickly, I stepped away from the stairs and into the shadows cast by the walkway above, pressing myself against the wall. Two of the shamblers halted while the third went straight for one of the heaps on the ground, the wet, crunching sounds that followed making it plain what was happening. One of the others soon joined it, but the third remained poised above them, its head slowly turning from left to right. Then it took a shuffling step forward, and another, dragging itself right by the others. Holding my breath, I tried to melt into the wall, but to no avail. It had seen me, and if not downright hostile, it was definitely curious.

  Exhaling slowly, I tried to decide what to do. There was a chance that it would just sniff me, decide that I wasn’t on the menu, and join the others. Considering that they had no scruples whatsoever eating their own, I doubted that it would regard me as inedible. I was suddenly very conscious of the fact that I wasn’t wearing anything that could be considered protective clothing except for my boots, and I doubted that in my current condition I could deliver a good roundhouse kick—that option was a no-go, too. I could still punch, but the very idea of touching that thing without gloves made me want to retch. There was a chance that I couldn’t get infected anymore, but even that thought didn’t help. Running away wasn’t a good idea, either, as it would likely just lead to all three zombies coming for me.

  That left one option—trying to intimidate it first. It had worked before—why not try that again?

  I waited until the zombie was about three feet from me before I pushed myself away from the wall, hissing at it. It came to a halt, sniffing, but rather than shy away, it leaned closer—and hissed right back in my face. Foul air hit my nostrils, making me gag, and that was apparently enough to brand me the weaker of the two of us. The zombie let out a howl as it lunged for me, teeth snapping and hands clawing. I stepped back, trying to avoid it, but at the same time curled my right hand into a fist. The moment it took another step, I brought my fist up and slammed it straight into the zombie’s temple. I was rewarded with a satisfactory crunch, but unlike its living counterpart would have, the zombie didn’t even stagger back. Its hands came up, dirty, torn nails raking my arm as I pulled it back, trying to sidestep around it. Pain shot up my arm from the scratches, but it dulled compared to the rest. Exhaling sharply, I continued my retreat, but the zombie followed step by step, snapping at me whenever I made too sudden a move.

  It was only when I passed the third door that I got an idea. When I was close to the next, I fumbled for the doorknob, but although it turned, the door wouldn’t open. Biting my lips to keep from cursing, I gave it a sharp twist, hoping that the combination of a cheap lock and an even cheaper door would turn out in my favor—but it didn’t. Then I heard another groan from right behind my shoulder, making me realize that they’d cornered me. Fear gave me strength—or made me plain stupid—and I slammed my shoulder into the door, the resulting crash loud enough to turn heads all over the lot. But the door gave, a small triumph. Staggering inside, I whipped around and pressed myself against the wall next to the entry. The two zombies came after me, howling—but were too slow as I pushed myself right past them and wrenched the door shut as soon as I was through. Then all I could do was to stay completely still, and wait.

  It only took the zombies a few moments to batter down the flimsy wood, but by then several others had arrived from the lot. Because of the nice crashing and howling going on, they ignored the useless piece of meat right next to the commotion—me. I didn’t push my luck but instead started sneaking away slowly, moving in what I hoped was a continuous enough motion to seem uninteresting. As soon as I was sure that none of them were aware of me, I hastened my steps, until I was almost walking by the time I was parallel to the car. There was still no sight of Nate so I decided to just chance it, and ran the last remaining yards across the open ground. And because I was already panting heavily enough to bring the entire apocalypse down on me, I didn’t hesitate as I eased open the door and crept inside, closing it as silently as possible behind me.

  The interior of the car stank almost as bad as the zombies outside, but I did my best to ignore it. Nate clearly had had other things on his mind than to deep-clean the seats, and it didn’t matter now. Looking
all around me, I tried to gauge if any of the zombies had turned their attention to the car. A few were looking straight at it, but my maneuver with the room door turned out to be a blessing rather than a curse as the small tangle of zombies over there were much more interesting than this hunk of metal. Then my eyes fell on the road, and swallowing got a lot harder. Even with my enhanced nocturnal vision it was hard to make out anything that was farther away than three hundred yards, but I didn’t need to focus to judge that there were well over several hundred zombies coming our way. That crawling sensation in my mind was much stronger now, and it only took me a few seconds to find the two zombies it came from. And beyond them I could feel several more “pings” on the landscape of what I shouldn’t have been able to track.

  I had no way of being sure, of course, but I had a certain feeling that we’d found the streak from Harristown again. Or rather, they’d found us.

  Nate climbing into the passenger seat scared the shit out of me, but I tried to hash over the fact that he’d surprised me by reaching for the belt harness to buckle myself in. My heart should have been racing, but it felt sluggish rather than as if it were galloping, making my heavy breathing feel all the more at odds.

  “You okay?” he whispered, giving me a concerned look.

  I nodded, not bothering with an explanation. When I reached for the wheel, the moonlight hit my lower arm, the scratches dark against my pale skin. Nate made as if to grab my arm, but I shook my head. “Just a scratch.” That sentence almost made me laugh. Guess we would soon know whether I was immune to them now, or not.

  Nate seemed to agree with that because his focus switched right from me to the oncoming horde. “That doesn’t look good.”

  “Nope.”

  “Any ideas?”

  I shrugged, trying to get comfortable. “I don’t think that it matters. Whatever we do, if we’re still here when they reach us, we’re toast.”