This time when Mako stepped up to me, I didn’t shy away, but rather than hug me, she squeezed my shoulder gently. “You are right. I have no idea what you are going through. But I’ve been out there. I only got to the Silo late autumn last year. I know what it’s like out there, and that was before anyone started speaking of civil war. I know that this likely doesn’t help, but you’re facing the same dilemma any soldier faces in any war. You didn’t start this, and you know that the guy you’re trying to kill before he can kill you in turn is sitting in the exact same boat as you are. There is never any personal gain in war, only loss. But just because you survived doesn’t mean that you deserve to be punished, by fate or God or whatever else you believe in.”
“Not sure I still believe in anything,” I admitted, dropping my gaze to the floor. “I know what survivor’s guilt is. I had to deal with enough of that last year. This is different.”
“How?” she asked, her fingers on my shoulder like a gentle nudge. “How is it different? You were faster. Better. More tenacious than the other guy. It was likely luck that made you survive and him end up dead.”
Swallowing, I shook my head. “If it was just one guy…”
“So you’re good at what you do,” she offered. “I’ve heard the stories about what your group did. You saved those women and children from the cannibals, and who knows how many caravans that would have fallen prey to them if you hadn’t eradicated them. Without you, Harristown would be a patch of blood-soaked earth. Even though the factory was a trap, the Raiders managed to bring two cargo holds full of antibiotics back to Dispatch that will get hundreds of people through the winter when otherwise they would likely have died. Nothing you have done was selfish, or just for your own gain. In fact, people like you are the most altruistic we still have out there, and I’m counting us and the people in Dispatch in that, too.”
If anything, that claim just made me feel worse. “You don’t get it, do you? Doing some good doesn’t outweigh all the bad.” Pulling away from her, I sighed, my frustration so palpable it made me choke. “I was so stupid. So naive. I whined and bitched and moaned because I didn’t have enough responsibility, not enough of a voice in decision making. But look what happened. I complained that I didn’t want to stand around, guarding the cars while the others cased the cannibal compound, and the day they take me out with them, I end up getting Bates killed. Without us showing up, the Chargers would never have tackled the zombies at Harristown, and not lost one of their own. I had a bad feeling at that factory, but did I speak up? And when we were trying to get out of that hellhole, I could have shot that fucker that offed Cho, but I didn’t. If I had, he likely wouldn’t have died, and I wouldn’t have become zombie chow. I wouldn’t have gone on a rampage, wouldn’t have killed however many soldiers trying to get away. And we wouldn’t have been there to slaughter all those soldiers who tried to take those trader women with them. They ended up dead, anyway, and now we have a fucking bounty on our heads, giving the other side ammunition to showcase just what monsters we are. Well, they are right, because that’s exactly what we are. Monsters. And I’m fighting for top spot with the worst of them.”
It would have been easier to see derision or fear on her face, but Mako kept shaking her head all through my rant, compassion the foremost emotion shining from her eyes.
“I’m not saying that you haven’t done your fair share of messed-up crap,” she offered once I fell silent. “But you, personally or as part of your group, are not responsible for every single bad thing that happened. A lot of it was likely circumstantial, or plain bad luck.”
I kept shaking my head, not letting her words get through to me. “I didn’t have to be so stupid.” Hesitating, I finally said what I really needed to get out. “No one forced me to shoot. Or drive over defenseless people. That was my decision. And I hate myself for it.”
There wasn’t anything she could say to that, and honestly, it wouldn’t have made a difference if she’d tried. I turned around to go, but hesitated by the door. “Thanks for listening. I’m sorry I dumped all that on you, but I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”
“You have your people,” she pointed out. “You have someone. Someone who cares for you, and who will never judge you, even if you’re afraid that they might. But they can only help you if you let them.”
She might think that, but I knew that it wasn’t true. Every single time I’d tried to touch a subject like this with Nate, all I had gotten back from him was pretty much a “welcome to the club.” And I hadn’t just signed up for this—I’d done my very best to throw myself right into the thick of it. Looking back, it was so obvious why he didn’t want me to be a part of the command group. Not just because I lacked experience, and likely was too weak for this. But because he didn’t want me to have to, one day, be where I was now. Feeling responsible. Feeling guilty. Feeling like a bullet right between my eyes was not just what I deserved, but would be the only thing that could absolve me of my sins.
“No one can help me,” I said as I turned back around and left.
Chapter 15
By the time I made it back to the command center, more people were up and going about their daily business, making it harder for me to dwell on my morose thoughts. Half of the guys were already getting their breakfast chow, so I joined them. I didn’t pay attention to what I got from the breakfast buffet, just selected something at random that there was plenty of that people seemed to avoid. It was all the same to me, so why should I care? Apparently I was alone with that view as I hadn’t yet spooned up more than a mouthful of whatever that was supposed to be when Nate sat down opposite from me and shoved a heaped plate across the table. I stared at the food with disdain—and not just because I loathed that I wouldn’t be able to taste the scrambled eggs, grilled tomatoes, or bacon. “Am I not even allowed to select my own food now?” I asked, not caring whether I sounded like a petulant child.
“Not if you can’t be trusted with sustaining yourself,” Nate replied, giving the bowl of rice, or whatever that was supposed to be, a critical look. “You need protein and fat, not something with a high glycemic index that your body will burn up within the next thirty minutes and then you’re back to square one. You’re welcome.”
I was tempted to point out that I hadn’t thanked him, but that was a little too petty even for me. And he was probably right, which made me feel borderline ridiculous. Rather than protest a moot point, I switched plates and started shoveling what should have been a delicious meal into my mouth. I pointedly ignored the incredulous look I got from Nate. Never let it be said that I couldn’t be reasonable—I just usually didn’t want to.
One by one the remaining members of our group sat down at our table, while the rest of the cantina filled with the Silo residents and whatever other guests they were hosting at the moment. I watched as huge, steaming pots were transported from the kitchen out into the corridors, making me guess that they were trying to provide at least some hot meals for those that were camping aboveground. I could only imagine how quickly that must be decimating the food stores. Suddenly, all those raided towns that we’d passed made a lot more sense. Maybe it had even been people from here that had cleaned them out. I didn’t put it past Wilkes to concoct a plan like that. Scavenge now as long as there was still something to find, while building up stores for when that resource ran out. Sacks of rice, flour, beans, and the like were still useable. I didn’t see him or one of his aides, so I couldn’t ask.
Who I did see were several of the scientists, sitting at a table with Mako, and I made it a point to completely ignore them. I shouldn’t have blabbed like that to the nurse. It hadn’t done me any good, and there was a distinct chance that she would tell someone else. Just one more reason to be gone from here as soon as possible.
“Any idea what you are going to do next?”
I looked up at Wilkes’s voice coming from behind Nate. He took the seat next to Nate when Andrej moved over, nodding his greetings to us. Glancing at Nat
e, I expected him to reply, but he just looked back at me, a hint of challenge in his gaze, but muted enough that I could have ignored it had I wanted to.
“We haven’t decided yet,” I offered, omitting the fact that we hadn’t even talked about it.
Wilkes nodded, as if he understood that this decision required some time. “Any chance I can entice you to stay a little longer with us?”
Again I looked at Nate. He took that as incentive enough to reply. “As much as we all enjoy getting fed and having access to running water, our place is out there, not in here.”
Wilkes looked neither surprised nor annoyed by the rebuke. “I understand. I take it you have a plan? The people from your home in Wyoming have been asking about you already. I presume you will want to pay them a visit?”
It was a tempting idea, but also the most obvious choice for anyone who had even two brain cells to rub together. I didn’t need to tell Nate that, and the grim set of his shoulders let me know that a possible ambush wasn’t the only concern that might keep him away from the bunker. I hadn’t forgotten our conversation in the whorehouse jacuzzi. “We should probably coordinate with Dispatch,” he replied. “If anyone can give us a better idea of how things are out there, it’s probably them.”
I expected Wilkes to protest, but he took that with a stoic look on his face. “As much as I would like to think that we here have created a safe haven for everyone, more people are flocking there each day,” he agreed. “If strength in numbers is what you are looking for, Dispatch is likely where you should go.” Wilkes got up, pausing another moment to look at all of us. “Feel free to use our communication systems. Our tech staff has been working on assembling new radios that, as far as we know, cannot be tracked. We have several crates of them ready for shipping out, just no one willing to do any deliveries. If you decide to leave, you’d do us all a solid if you’d take them with you. As it is, more scavengers will trust you with that than us.”
“We will take that into consideration,” Nate said, a non-answer if there’d ever been one. Wilkes took his leave, several of our people looking after him. Not Nate—his eyes flickered to me and remained there. I stared right back, until I couldn’t take it any longer and raised my brows, silently asking for his opinion. Sooner or later we had to talk to each other again. Might as well be where I could hurl a cup of steaming coffee at him. “Any suggestions?” he asked, not the least bit cautious.
“Do you really want to head to Dispatch?” I asked, doubtful. “You already complained last time about the mass of people. That must be ten times worse now.”
He nodded, but didn’t looked deterred. “They will need us sooner or later. Until that happens, I’d rather stay in less populated areas. Less chance for anyone to sneak up on us.”
So much for our latent paranoia. “You think going to Wyoming means we’re setting ourselves up for an ambush?”
“Likely, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” At my incredulous look, Nate grinned. “Two of us were enough to take down twenty of them. You know what damage ten of us can do.” That was true—but the fact that our numbers were dwindling rapidly wasn’t anything that instilled confidence in me.
“Should we talk to them first? Or just get in the cars and drive south? If we cross the Rockies up here and come from the west we’ll likely avoid any traps they can set up for us. It’s all open country and not much else out there if we’re careful.” I knew that I was stating the obvious, but I still wasn’t convinced that was a good idea.
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.”
Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 2 | Books 4-6 Page 49
