Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 2 | Books 4-6
Page 95
“Same difference.” He grunted. “From the very beginning I haven’t understood why people need to divide us, now that there really are only a handful of us left. Nobody can live indefinitely on the road without shelter, the same as every settlement needs outside help that can come and go whenever the need arises. What I’m opposed to are the oppressive politics that have taken over common sense these past months.” A self-deprecating smile started spreading across his face. “You think that, coming from me, that must be complete and utter bullshit?”
I considered that, but in the end shook my head. “No, I believe you. Just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that you really seem to have changed.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” he divulged, a hint of the asshole I’d known breaking through the more laid back facade he was showing the world now. “Plus, turns out the ladies really dig the whole man of the people thing.”
I couldn’t hold back a derisive snort. “Yeah, so like you to take responsibility only to get laid.”
“Says the woman who is about to turn a personal grudge into what can only end in a bloodbath, whatever outcome,” he retorted. I shot Gita a sidelong glance, but she seemed entirely engrossed in watching us trade insults without finding anything peculiar about it.
“Why exactly doesn’t anyone get pissed at me not simpering all over you? I personally wouldn’t let anyone dump so much shit on my leader’s head without taking personal offense.”
Greene chuckled, while Gita looked perplexed. “You don’t know about—“ She cut off before getting to the good part, but Greene was happy to fill in the blanks when I glared at him.
“Let’s just say that I have been building my own notoriety by telling people that the day you released that video, I was in the same building with you. And that not going with you was one of the mistakes I’ve made since the world went to hell. I don’t think I will tweak that story now that you’ve set the record straight, but the sentiment remains the same. It may have been more than a year since we last met, but from day zero on I’ve considered us to be on the same side. Learning that I was on a kill list and consequently deciding to make my own luck out there rather than wait for someone to put a bullet into my head underscored that conviction.” He let that hang between us, that sardonic smile still in place. “You and me both know that we’d never have done anything for the good of the people in true altruist fashion, but then again who trusts someone who doesn’t have ulterior motives?”
I was starting to wonder that if they’d ever manage to bury the hatchet, Greene and Nate might get along well. That being impossible put an immediate end to my musing, but if things had gone down differently…
Speaking of the devil, Nate took that moment to saunter over to us, the solemn look on his face making me guess that Pia, walking beside him, had already filled him in on Taylor. He nodded at Burns and Gita, ignored Greene except for a dismissive look, and fixed me with a peculiar stare. “So good to see that a year of sometimes literally beating the shit out of you to teach you about stealth has left not a single trace of common sense in you.” Yet before I could retaliate—verbally or physically—he picked me up and whirled me around like a small child, making me squeal in indignation, then laugh when he started tickling me.
“Stop it! What the fuck? I’m trying to behave like a proper leader here and you’re treating me like a spoiled brat?”
My shrieking only got worse when he leaned in and tickled the side of my neck with his breath, my flaming red hair likely doing nothing to obscure the hickeys he’d left there. Rather than let me go—or at the very least stop—he held me tight, whispering softly into my ear. “No one in their right mind will debate that you have the ruthless streak needed to lead them all to victory. Let them see that underneath all that bravado there’s still a normal, sometimes even likable woman.” He probably had a point with that, but I was still happy when he stopped molesting me and toned it down, only keeping his arm slung across my lower back. Burns shook his head, grinning at us. The Ice Queen suffered our display with the expected ignorance. Gita’s cheeks had reddened to the point where I was starting to wonder where exactly she was on the hero worship going on crush spectrum. It certainly was much easier to keep on grinning, seeing Greene strike a fake barfing pose.
“As much as I would love to continue this“—Greene started, his tone clarifying that he did anything but—“work calls. I’ve set Gita to helping you find your way around, and fielding any important meetings you need to set up until you leave. Some of our more mechanically inclined geniuses have taken the liberty of declaring your cars pretty much ready to be scrapped, but might come up with ways to salvage them. You’ll probably find them lurking around their intended victims right now, just waiting to unleash the worst they can come up with on you. I wouldn’t keep them waiting. The more time they have, the crazier their ideas. We’ve also started a list pinned to the bar in our headquarters for people to sign up for your crusade so we know how much weapons, ammo, gear, and cars your convoy will need. Would probably be a good idea to check in with that, too.”
As soon as Greene had turned around and was disappearing between the buildings leading into the city, Gita set to the task of rattling off a list of people who’d already approached her with ideas and requests. Nate listened to her mutely for about a minute, then told her to lead us to our cars and continue to fill us in on the way, Burns and Pia falling in beside us.
About two blocks later, with Burns and Gita engaged in a debate about provisions and explosives, Nate pulled my arm, making us drop back a little further. “What do you make of our guide?” he asked, looking at our chipper addition to the group.
I wondered if he meant in a can-we-trust-her way, but decided that he was too relaxed for that. “She’s cute.”
“You would say that,” he grumbled. “I’m calling wang.”
I made sure not to miss a step as I rammed my elbow into Nate’s side, hitting the old scar where the rebar had pierced him precisely. No, I hadn’t missed the slight but still noticeable Adam’s apple, or that the shoulders-to-waist-to-hips ratio was more on the straight than hourglass side.
“Can you stop being an ass for like five minutes? If I can be the flame-haired leader of the revolution, she can very well be my fangirl number one. Besides, you’re just jealous that she’s all over me and completely ignoring you.”
“So just because you can let your queer flag fly you trust her not to report back to Greene every single thing we say or do?”
I shrugged, unperturbed by his accusation. “Actually, I’m counting on it. With her, I can make sure to put the right spin on everything. I don’t get the same chance with everyone else who’s spying on us. We both know that by the time we leave here, Taggard and whoever he’s managed to get to help him will have a detailed list of our group strength. It’s your job to tell me how we will get through this with an enemy that knows that we’re coming, and what power we’re packing. Let me worry about putting my foot in my mouth. No need for you to join me in that.”
It would have been too much to ask to expect him to look chagrined, but I’d take his agreement over winning an argument any day. But his comment was a good reminder that while people seemed to view us favorably here, I still needed to keep my guard up. All the community support out there wouldn’t do me shit if someone planted a knife in the side of my neck—and wasn’t that a comforting thought.
Chapter 15
I needn’t have worried, neither about assassins, nor Gita overhearing Nate’s remarks. Except for the few hours at night when I got to catch some shut-eye, there was always someone around, keeping me busy, and decidedly not exposed to attacks from afar. Gita herself dropped a few remarks that made it plain that she knew very well what some people might be wondering about, but didn’t give a shit about it—or at least was very good at pretending not to. I had to admit, the apocalypse had leveled so many playing fields that even I, prickly pear that I could be about some personal topics, knew to prioriti
ze. I was quite happy when on the morning of our departure Gita asked me if she could tag along with us, to manage communications with New Angeles and work on coordinating with anyone who might be joining us on the way to whatever destination points we would set. For obvious reasons we didn’t proclaim our exact route nor where we were headed, but even trying to be secretive I was well aware that we would have a hard time avoiding ambushes or traps.
Then again, maybe not, I told myself, as I walked along the double line of twenty-two cars parked behind the freshly modified and reinforced Rover and Jeep, the setting sun at my back. Over sixty people, carrying weapons and ammo for double that number, and provisions that should last us well past when we finally hit our target. Our window was closing rapidly, with the morning air holding the first hint of crispness of fall—or so Gita claimed; to me it was still stifling hot. Considering that even the straight approach would have taken us over a week, likely, and we had to go the long way around to gather enough people until we got there, it was about time that we got going if we wanted to avoid getting snowed in on top of all the other hazards that might be waiting for us.
The plan was to set out tonight, as soon as it got dark—two days ahead of schedule. We’d used the excuse of the modifications to move all the vehicles outside of the safe zone over the last days, one car at a time. Had the very idea of not having access to my home on four wheels and two spares giving me a veritable anxiety attack? You bet. Even with all the sneaking around involved I didn’t believe for a second that we would leave completely unobserved by those who shouldn’t be in the know, but considering how sketchy communication could get these days, it was one of many advantages we’d decided to go for. It certainly broke military protocol where everything was always planned, and executed, on time. So why not drive through the ruins of one of our largest cities in the dead of night, with not a chance to gauge what was going on around us?
“The beacons are set?” I asked Gita for what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes.
“Yup,” she replied, not a hint of exasperation in her voice. “We have to hit the checkpoint between three and five, and we should be good. We get half an hour of rest at checkpoint three at ten, and eleven at five in the afternoon. That means we have an extended period of rest until eleven once we’re out of the L.A. area. If we hit all the marks and nothing stops us, we should be past Vegas in the morning.” Where we would pretty much play Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide which way to take to one of no less than seven possible next checkpoints. I still couldn’t believe that Nate had let me get away with suggesting to do some random on-the-go route planning, but that’s what we had committed ourselves to. Only the four of us and two randomly selected people from our convoy had the charts detailing when Gita would call in with HQ here in New Angeles to get the latest updates and try to reach anyone wanting to join up with us.
Part of me was fully expecting to have to plan the assault with the same sixty people we set out, guaranteeing complete and utter failure. Well, there was always Plan B: abandon this idiocy, drive up to Canada or even Alaska, dig in for the winter, and never meet another soul again in our lives. Judging from the sometimes calculating looks Nate cast my way when he thought I wasn’t aware of it, I wasn’t sure if that wasn’t the saner idea.
Up ahead, I saw Tanner chat with one of the guards who’d taken care of the cars over the past days. I’d been surprised that he was joining us as well, once more riding in the Rover with us to get us through the maze of the city, but after that he would be driving in one of the other cars. I didn’t know any of the other people who had joined us. Talked to a few at our strategy meetings, sure, but half of them I wouldn’t have been able to pick out of a crowd. That certainly didn’t make me feel peachy, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Besides, if this really ended with slaughter, I was glad for everyone I knew that wasn’t there.
“Great. Keep me updated if anything changes,” I told Gita, leaving her with the car she’d been assigned to—for today. As Nate has succinctly pointed out, it was likely a good idea to switch which ride our line of communication was taking to keep the threat to a minimum that someone would target her directly. I kind of wished I could do the same, but maybe I should have considered that before turning my hair into a flaming riot trailing after me. Not that I intended to keep it loose any longer.
Finally reaching my car, I couldn’t help but smile at the pockmarked Rover. Some of the worst damage had been repaired, but as most of it was superficial, thanks to all the doors having gotten reinforced last winter already, it had been decided not to give a shit about cosmetics. From the outside, the only real change were the windows, exchanged for heavily tinted, bulletproof glass. Half of the cargo hold was filled with portable pulse generators, the rest with explosives and fuel. My skin started to itch just considering how much of a prime target we’d turned the Rover into—but at least my death would be quick if we disappeared into a giant ball of fire. Nate was already waiting for me, his face stony as he did his best to ignore Greene smirking next to him.
“All set?” Greene asked as I joined them, looking back over the bustle of activity surrounding our convoy.
“As set as we will ever get,” I mused.
“Disappointed that it’s only a handful of people? Told you that our city can’t spare much manpower.”
“Still more contribution than anyone else promised so far—and delivered,” I pointed out. In reality, I was still marveling at how many people had thrown their lot in with us. Every single one of them would be missed, someone else having to do double shifts to pick up the slack. But that was true for virtually everyone out there—and as Nate had pointed out to me last night, it wasn’t up to me to decide who should join us, and who’d better stay behind. I’d told them to fight for their freedom, and everyone needed to decide now if that was something worth fighting—and potentially dying—for. I probably should have left it at that, but couldn’t hold back one last question. “What are you going to do if they annihilate us?”
Contrary to what I’d expected, Greene was quick to reply, and without his usual acerbic taunting. “We will continue to rebuild. Someone will survive—and if not, we can still use you as a martyr to the cause. Someone else will rise up and take the lead. You didn’t set out planning this, either. Why shouldn’t history repeat itself? We will prevail. Would still be easier if you could carve a bloody path now and force peace rather than let it putter in over years, with thousands more lives wasted.” So much for hoping anyone would have faith in a non-violent solution—but everyone that delusional had likely bitten it hours into the zombie uprising.
At the same time, the thought that our cause would easily outlive us filled me with pride. Pride to be a part of this.
“I’m sure you’ll manage to both drag me through the mud and make a shining heroine out of me.”
“Nobody loves a hero without flaws,” Greene supplied, giving me a cursory once-over. “Besides, no one believes me anyway when I tell them that you used to be a shy, easily-ignored little thing. Then again, you did give them a run for their money up in the vents, pudge and all, so who am I to say?”
The familiar impulse to gnash my teeth was strong, but for once I suppressed it. The level stare he got back must have annoyed him in equal parts, judging from how his smile turned forced.
“They don’t seem to have the same issue with believing that you’ve always been an arrogant little shit,” I replied. Fuck the high road.
“That’s true,” he said, not the least bit chagrined. “Admit it. You’re glad to see I’m still around and kicking. Not that many people out there who’d actually miss you.”
“You’d be surprised,” I grumbled under my breath, but now it was easy to beam at him. “I think I should go, before I do something that may diminish the goodwill everyone seems to be having toward me nowadays. Take care of your people. Would be nice to return for some R&R in the future.”
He gave a nod that was both solemn and surprisi
ngly genuine. Could it be that, despite all insults we kept flinging at each other, Gabriel Greene was starting to like me? Stranger things had happened—but I wasn’t sure I was ready to get used to that yet. Still, the fact alone that he’d turned from sleazy womanizer with, admittedly, a rather large secret riding on his back, to leader of one of the few bastions of the free world was comforting. If people could accept the change in him, it was possible that they’d attribute the same courtesy to me. The only thing left was to hope that their faith in us wasn’t misplaced.
Out of habit I checked one last time that the canisters of gas were filled to the brim—and well secured where they were wedged right next to the explosives, oh joy—before I got in, snapping the belt harness in place. Nate sank into his own seat, his tense mood of the past days either gone, or well hidden. I could feel a similar thrill of purpose lick along my veins as I started the car, waiting for Tanner to get in and give us the final “go.”
The gate in front of us grated to the side, revealing the dark, half-demolished city streets. “Ready?” I asked my passengers the same as the New Angeles gate control that was patched into our radio, and the other cars in line behind me. I felt my heart lift further as the seconds passed, vehicle after vehicle calling in. Being out there alone—or with only the Jeep as a constant shadow—had made it easy to feel small and defeated, clinging to one last hope with the certainty of annihilation becoming stronger each day. How things could change in a matter of days. I couldn’t help but smile in feral anticipation of what we would be able to accomplish in the next few weeks.
Chapter 16
Gita’s estimations of how fast we would need to move to stick to our schedule were surprisingly accurate for someone who hadn’t left the base in months. Navigating the maze by day had been daunting. In the dark, it was a nightmare. We had to backtrack several times, losing at least an hour, but that was still faster than I’d expected. That left us with an extra twenty minutes of rest before actually leaving the city—half of which I spent hanging out of the car, barfing up trail mix, hoping that the near constant pulsing of the beacons would shut off soon. Turned out, not telling anyone that they affected me hadn’t been my brightest idea, but Nate had agreed with me that it was the kind of vulnerability that was too good not to abuse should anyone want to do away with us before we even made it out of the region. So suffering it was.