Nate let out a low sigh. “Nothing we can do about that, either. It’s just a few more hours and they’ll be back at the base where they can put up with Jason hounding them for leaving him and Charlie behind.”
“Martinez is doing okay,” I supplied.
“You talked to him, too?”
“Briefly.” My silence seemed to be answer enough but since we were stuck in here for a while… “I really wanted to tell him that I didn’t do this for him. That I didn’t betray all my principles just so he’d get another chance to walk. He should be smart enough to eventually get that where there’s a carrot, there’s also a stick.”
Nate chuckled softly. “I’m sure he knows. But wouldn’t seem like such a rift between us and the rest of the world if everyone we met was all, oh, sure, we understand! We forgive you! Just come back any time you want!”
That I hadn’t considered—and I caught myself smiling in spite of myself. “Think the others will wonder where we are? You and me, we both survived that lab but we had chances aplenty to be killed off that Hamilton was directly responsible for. And I’m not even talking about your dumbass sacrificial stunt.”
Nate’s answering silence made me wonder what I’d missed.
“At least we know now that we can count on more help than we thought,” he offered in what sounded like a non sequitur, but I didn’t buy it.
“Like who? Zombified Aimes was only a thread more hostile toward me than human Aimes.”
Nate snorted as if I’d recounted a fond memory. “Well, for instance, we now know that I still have some standing with the people who’ve been under my command in the past. I give Murdock a sixty percent chance that he will desert if he gets a good enough opportunity, and Davis would likely be sitting in here with us if he hadn’t bitten it.” He waited for me to protest and went on when I didn’t. “Sure, there will always be lost causes, like Parker, but he’s nobody’s loss. People like Aimes, Wu, Russell—you can’t win with them. They’ve been fed the same BS they still believe in since the very day they signed the dotted line in the recruitment office. You’ll never change their minds. But it took you all of a single fight and some random campfire chatting and you got Cole and Hill firmly in your camp. They’re both too married to the cause to turn their backs on what they’ve dedicated their lives to, but they don’t follow orders blindly. They question, and they consider, and if one day down the line we all meet again and Hamilton tells them to pull the trigger on you, they might just say, hey, wait a minute—why don’t you explain exactly why we should do that? And don’t leave out the good details.”
“And you think that’s worth risking your life for?” I couldn’t quite keep the incredulity out of my voice.
I got a smirk in return. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
That was when I realized where I’d been wrong. “You fucking conniving, lying asshole!” I shouted, punching him in his arm, not caring how much that hurt. He sure deserved it. Of course he was laughing, although he also made shushing sounds to make me turn down the volume. “I thought you actually sacrificed yourself for me!”
“And whose fault is that, huh?” he teased, but caught my arm before I could aim for his face next. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t want to lie to you but, you know. You’re a shitty actress on a good day. You would have ruined it all if you’d spent the last two weeks gloating at everyone, particularly Hamilton.” I continued to glare at him, which made him laugh more softly now. “Oh, come on. Snap out of it. It wasn’t just an opportunity served on a silver platter. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I would have kicked myself for the rest of my life if I hadn’t taken it.”
“Yeah, tell that to Tanner.” I knew this was a low blow, but right then I was sore enough not to care.
Nate gave an appropriately chastised nod, which in and of itself was rather suspicious. “I will regret his death for the rest of my life, too. I tried to dissuade him but he insisted on helping me. And he was right. He would have been too focused on guarding Gita, which in turn would have made him an easy target and then they’d both have been dead. He knew what he was doing, and if you ask me, he died without many regrets. That’s my burden now. As for doing it at all? We needed that diversion or we would have died for sure, one after the other. They might not have realized it at the time, but they were counting on me for getting them out of there. Shit, Bucky was counting on me to get them out, and if I wasn’t certain that he would have loved to see me die for nothing, I’d say he set everything up like this.”
That was awfully close to what I’d accused Hamilton of, only the other way round—yet as Nate seemed convinced of his view I felt my own conviction drain slowly.
“So you took the chance to turn from a traitor into a savior,” I noted, not trying to take my acidic tone down a notch.
Nate didn’t deny it. “You know how they all saw me when we joined up with them. How they looked at me, whatever I did. I’m the one who betrayed his own people’s trust and got them killed for my own ulterior motives. I’m the one who ran when the shit hit the fan and my country needed me. I helped instigate a rebellion, and I’m still supporting the biggest pain in their collective ass there is right now. Which is you.”
“Yeah, because I didn’t get it right away,” I grumbled, trying hard not to grin.
“Now?” he went on without dwelling on my childish glee. “I may not have changed everyone’s mind, but you’d have to be one dumb fuck not to see that Hamilton was the one who stranded them down there, and I got them out. Sure, he had his orders—and while I know you will disagree with me on that, I’m certain that he did have them, and it was our mission to get the samples. No one would begrudge him acting in accordance with our primary target. But not getting torn to shreds and eaten by monsters does a thing or two for a man’s psyche. No, I don’t think that Wu or the likes will ever change their mind, but people talk. People listen. I didn’t set out to clear my name, and there’s still a lot of shit that’s sticking to me, but one thing I hammered into their heads: I’m not a coward, and I won’t waste their lives for no good reason whatsoever. That might make a difference if push comes to shove one day, far, far down the line. I’m sorry that I couldn’t let you in on this. You would have tried to come with me, and I’d have had the exact same problem that Tanner tried to avoid. You wouldn’t have been so convincing in rallying the troops to go hunt for my corpse. And you wouldn’t have spent the past two weeks stalking around, hissing and spitting at everyone and everything because you felt like I made the ultimate sacrifice and nobody was grateful for that.”
A lot came to mind to respond to that, but I left it at a simple, “Burns told you about that?”
“He sure did.” I caught Nate’s faint smile in the dark. “I’d like to claim that I’m deeply concerned about your priorities, but what can I say?”
“‘Thank you’ would be an appropriate choice,” I harped.
“Too easy.” He continued to laugh even when I smacked him good. Again he caught my hand on the second try, and this time I noticed.
“So, having some low-light vision of your own going on now, huh?” I summed up my razor-sharp conclusion.
“Not exactly,” Nate admitted. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice any changes.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “Too early to tell. I’ll let you know once I’m sure about it all.”
“If you say ‘monster penis,’ I’m gonna slap you.”
“You just did,” he pointed out.
“Again.”
“Still not that much of a threat.”
I snorted, leaving it at that.
We ended up sitting there, listening to the ship groan and creak around us for what felt like a small eternity until the gentle vertigo of motion made my stomach queasy for a moment. “Guess this is it,” I remarked. “Think we made a colossal mistake?”
“Wouldn’t be the first,” Nate enthused, grinning at my frown. “Oh, come on. It’s not like this
is for forever.”
“And what if it is?”
He shrugged, unperturbed by our circumstances. “Then we’ll die, old and alone, in the wilderness, knowing that we didn’t drag any more innocents into drama that we didn’t create.”
“Not sure I’d call someone like Burns or Martinez innocent. They’d likely object.”
“Vehemently,” Nate agreed.
“Fuck, but I miss them. All of them.” Nate held my gaze, not saying anything, a silent agreement if there ever was one. “You think it’s worth that? Slinking away into hiding, on a whim? Bucky’s the only one who ever really mentioned anything about Decker. He could be lying.”
“He’s not,” he replied, sounding more convinced than I was about pretty much everything. “But I’m rather certain that, either way, we’ll sooner or later find out. Let’s hope it’s later, and after someone else has taken care of the problem for once.”
Somehow I had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen—but hope was cheap, and something I realized I had in abundance after how the last months had gone down. It couldn’t really get that much worse than both of us almost dying, right?
Buehler was back soon after the ship had started moving once more, ushering us into one of the abandoned crew quarters no one seemed to have inhabited for quite some time judging from the mildewy scent. She told us to stay put while she fetched what remained of our gear. Stuffed right into the top of my backpack I found a hastily scrawled note from Burns, reading, “You fucking assholes! Hope you have a wonderful life!” with a series of lewd smiley faces. I made sure to fold it properly and stow it away where it wouldn’t get wet.
Most of our things were still there, plus Tanner’s spare outer gear that would fit Nate in a pinch. Also some spare magazines and ammo—but only for our handguns. As it turned out, Hamilton had been very thorough in cleaning out the armory, leaving us with what contrabands we’d hidden in the packs. Nate didn’t seem concerned so I swallowed my ire, and really, I’d get a new shotgun somewhere, I was sure. With just the two of us, going for stealth was the only option, and rifles would only slow us down.
There was also an entire pack of provisions left in Nate’s pack, what Burns and Gita must have had left from the French. We’d need that soon enough as well, considering that winter might not be the best time to start a new pantry.
Speaking of which, Commander Parr dropped by our cabin a few hours later, looking rather conflicted, which made me guess that he hadn’t expected us and Buehler to actually enact our plan.
“I presume you won’t be sticking around with us forever?” he asked, still taxing the leader of the marines with questioning glares. Buehler ignored him.
“Wherever you want to drop us off is fine with us,” Nate offered jovially. “If you have a map handy, my wife can give you a more concrete location if you will.”
“She can?” I mouthed to Nate as we followed the captain to the bridge.
“Just pick a spot on the coast,” Nate murmured back. “Carolinas or farther into the Gulf would be neat for winter.” When I was still confused, he flashed me a grin. “You’re the queen of randomness. Didn’t you tell me once that was your strength, not following military code and strategy? Well, be as random as they get.”
Viewed like that, not the worst idea. So it came that we were guests on the destroyer for another week before Buehler and a few of her marines piled into a boat with us and set off toward the Georgia shore. Since they’d already had to fuel up the RHIB, they used the opportunity to hit a few houses to see if anything worth raiding was to be found. By the time they returned to the beach, we were long gone, walking up the soft incline away from the ocean, side by side.
“Any idea where we should head next?” I asked as I studied a signpost, figuring that neither downtown Savannah nor the greater Atlanta area sounded like such a great idea. I’d always wanted to visit the CDC headquarters but that didn’t sound quite that appealing anymore.
Nate shrugged, surprisingly relaxed considering that we didn’t even have a map of the area. “It’s all the same to me. You choose.”
“So you get to blame me later? Fat chance.” Shaking my head, I took a look around. “How about we head west?” The road leading in that direction was barely more than an access road, ideal for hiding in the ditches. Nate set out down that path without further comment, making me snort under my breath. “Really, no objections at all? You must have some place in mind. At least a general area. Doesn’t have to be a fortified bunker but I’m not sure I want to spend the next years living in a cave.”
“I thought more along the lines of a log cabin somewhere by a river. Good for fishing,” he mused.
“Sounds good. Just, where?” He shrugged, still smiling. “Seriously? You’re not fucking with me right now? You have no clue where we should go?”
“I have many clues,” Nate replied, the smile disappearing. “And all those are places someone else knows about as well. But if I don’t know where we’ll end up, neither will they. I say, we wing it. We have provisions for a few weeks if we pace ourselves, and there’s plenty of houses between here and the Rockies that are waiting to be looted. We find signs of any kind of habitation, we move on or backtrack into the wilderness. Sooner or later, we’ll find something we like. We stay for the night, for a week, or for fucking forever. Who cares?” He let out a sudden laugh that was way more carefree than I’d ever heard from him. “Bree, we can do whatever the fuck we want! We have no obligations! Shit, I’ve never felt that free in my entire life!”
His enthusiasm was contagious, although I didn’t much care for how his shout chased away a flock of birds. Of course he noticed, but he still didn’t seem to mind. No mob of zombies came down on us as we continued down the road so it was probably okay. We were likely the only living bipeds in the county once the marines were back on the ship. “Hate to break it to you, buddy, but you still have obligations to me,” I reminded him, sidling closer. “Don’t forget about that.”
“Never,” he promised, leaning in for a quick kiss—before he retreated to the other side of the road, speeding up so he was walking a few paces in front of me, giving us both ample space to move should anything attack us. Ah, like good old times.
“We should probably stock up on gear,” I observed. “The usual stuff, you know? Extra boots, sleeping bags, maybe a camping burner if we find one. And coffee. If I have to live rough for the next few months on the road, I need coffee. Else I’ll be ready to kill you by the end of the week.”
“Coffee, got it,” Nate replied, his eyes still scanning the terrain ahead. “Anything else? Maybe a queen-size bed with an extra duvet?”
“You not being such an ass, maybe?” I suggested cheekily.
“You’d get bored in less than an hour,” he shot back.
I snorted but didn’t object. “Too bad we don’t have any of that booster left. I could do with a little high just about now.” And with it being just us, the other side effects weren’t anything to be annoyed by, either.
Nate glanced back at me, a hint of worry quickly giving way to more unnatural levity. “You don’t need the booster for that.”
“Har, har, very funny. Like you ever complained.”
He kept chortling under his breath. “I mean it. You won’t need the booster to key up. It’s a neat thing to have in sustained combat situations where you shouldn’t let your guard down, but since we’re not planning on getting into that, for any short-term stuff you won’t need it. Trust me, you of all people won’t. But maybe you should look into building a habit of meditating each day.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I complained, momentarily stopping to investigate a heap of rags by the side of the road. Months old, I decided, and of no interest whatsoever. “Both.”
Nate sighed as if he was already sorry to have said anything. “You do realize that the serum works fueled by strong emotions, right?”
“Duh.”
“And would I be so wrong if I said that y
ou’re a woman possessing a rather fiery disposition?”
That made me snort. “Did you just call me a raging bitch?”
His momentary silence was insulting enough but his words mollified me somewhat. “Do you hear me complaining? But you’ve felt the effects of it yourself now. The booster makes it easier to remove the shackles around your anger, but it’s a tool, not a necessity. Remember how stir crazy you got last year on the road? And that was with many other people around to distract you. Now it’s just you and me. Maybe learning to find a way to put a damper—or at least some shackles—on your temper might be worth a thought.”
“Or we could just have sex until we’re both exhausted and I’ve forgotten all about why I felt the need to beat you up in the first place?”
“Or we could do that,” he agreed, laughing. “Or you could pick up something like Tai Chi. Or hunting with bow and arrow. Fishing.”
“I still like my idea best.”
“Of course you do.”
“Like you’re complaining.”
“I’m not complaining, I’m pointing out that we have all the time in the world, and all options are open to us.”
“Including sex.”
He groaned but I could tell that he was still smiling—and so was I.
Sure, my heart was heavy with the knowledge that setting out on our own wasn’t the ideal solution. It killed me to know that our friends and loved ones had no idea of where we were, or whether we were still alive—and the reverse was true as well. But it was a solution, and for right now, it was the solution. And when things changed, well—I’d learned to adapt to many things. I was sure that I’d take whatever may come in stride. Because giving up? Now that wasn’t a solution at all.
Acknowledgments
You know the drill, right? Let’s get this party started!
This book wouldn’t be what it is today without my wonderful editor and amazing beta readers! You rock! And deserve some extra bacon! Also you, gentle reader, who you keep me happy and motivated, and all around doing this here writing thing! Last but not least, the guy who brings me my bulletproof coffee every morning, and has yet to complain about me ranting at my plot lines not behaving as they should.
Green Fields (Book 9): Exodus Page 32
