Where possible, we remained close to the river, using it as a loose guideline for our route. When we got closer to one of the many towns and cities along the Wabash did we veer off inland, only to return as soon as the riverbanks were clear again. It wasn’t necessarily cooler close to the water, but at least we could fill up our flasks all the time, and more often than not we stopped for an hour or three when the June sun beat down mercilessly on us. I still didn’t quite understand why we were advancing at a punishing pace without taking a day off when we found a completely deserted place where we could have relaxed and let our guard down somewhat. By then it had been days since we’d seen the last trace of any living inhabitant anywhere, and while still a massive problem when encountered in larger numbers, the zombies weren’t that much of an issue as long as we were careful. Wyoming was still a damn long distance away, but I doubted that a day or two would have made a difference.
It was on one of our larger treks away from the river, around some slightly more heavily populated area on the south bank, when one of our sentries returned, running at full speed, immediately swinging in to Nate, talking in hushed, agitated tones. At first, I was hoping for another unlooted truck—the week of everyone falling sick had reduced their numbers drastically, and so far we’d not dared come close enough to a larger city to hunt down a depot or factory—maybe with baby food this time? Hey, a girl could dream. But the increasing tension in the air as Pia and Andrej both joined in the discussion made me uneasy. Plus, the other guy who’d been doing recon—Innes—hadn’t come back, setting my teeth on edge. I was sure that if he’d been killed, Moore would have reported that.
By the time the huddle broke up, Nate had everyone’s attention, silence spreading across the entire group. He looked around us, his eyes briefly connecting with mine before he averted his gaze and addressed us at large.
“There’s another group ahead of us. Thirty strong, probably more as they’ve set up a camp and we didn’t get a good look inside. Innes and Moore got sloppy when they tried to back away and ran straight into their guards. They claim that they’re not hostile, but they want to talk to us. That’s why Innes is their guest right now.” He stressed “guest” enough to communicate that it hadn’t been his choice to stay.
Murmurs and looks were exchanged, but no one seemed particularly happy about this. After what had happened in Dresden, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the mere mention of other humans, strange as that might have sounded. Plus, if they were that many, they could easily overwhelm us in numbers.
“Moore said he was running as quickly as he could, but I don’t doubt that within minutes, they’ll be watching us, so running is only an option if we do it now. I don’t have to tell you what will happen to Innes if we do that.”
More murmurs rose, but when Burns spoke up, no one disagreed with him.
“If we have a chance to get him back, we won’t leave a man behind.”
Nate gave a curt nod, clearly having anticipated that remark.
“We’ll be cautious, and hope that our weapons will discourage them. They have some of their own but not quite our arsenal. Still—“ He trailed off there, and again his eyes deliberately sought me out. “Can you put your hair up under the cap? Or better, switch with Bates; the less they see of your face, the better.”
His order confused me, but I wordlessly handed my baseball cap to Bates and put his boonie hat on after stuffing my ponytail up over the crown of my head. While we were busy, he turned to Skip and Steve.
“I know that you can’t shoot for shit, but I still want you to carry guns. And look like you can use them.”
They were both handed two of the backup shotguns, fumbling until someone quietly instructed them how to hold them properly. With not a little amusement I realized that no one bothered with that with me, but then I’d racked up five confirmed kills with my trusty Mossberg so far. The second thigh holster—the knife now transferred to my left leg—for the Beretta wasn’t just for show, either. In short, I probably looked a lot better outfitted than either of the two even if someone had lent them a camo-patterned shirt.
“You two, keep in the middle,” he instructed our two noncombatants next, while shooing everyone in position around them. Looking at me a last time, he directed me over from where I’d lingered at Burns’s left side back to where our medic was bringing up the rear. “Stay close to Bates and Martinez. That way they’ll hopefully not notice that you’re a clear head shorter than most of us. Everybody, move out.”
With that, we set into motion, for the first time in ages without anyone ranging to the front or hanging back to spread out the bulk of our group. I really didn’t have a good feeling about this. Pia grabbed a dark scarf and pulled it over the lower half of her face, leaving just her nose and piercing eyes visible. With the wind carrying a fare share of dust with it, it might as well have been for something else than concealment.
“Do I want to know why we’re doing this?” I asked Martinez, the grip on my shotgun just a little sweaty.
Martinez sent me a long look, but then replied, if reluctantly. “Not having seen that camp, I can’t be sure, but I’d say that he has a very good reason why he wants us to look like we’re not easy bait and don’t have anything interesting to take from us.”
With a sinking feeling I realized that he wasn’t just referring to food with that.
It took us a good thirty minutes to make it to the crossroads Moore had indicated as the meeting point. It wasn’t even a proper cross as the other road was bridging ours overhead, leaving the group of men standing ready on top of the slope in clear advantage. As we drew closer, a few more joined them, equalizing our numbers with the clear message that there were likely even more of them hiding in the scarce trees on top of the slope. They looked about as dirty and ragged as us—still setting us apart from the shamblers, but they’d been living just as rough as we had. Faces were gaunt and looks grim, but they didn’t appear hostile outright. Innes stood between two of them who were holding ARs—and looking like they knew how to use them. He didn’t appear scared, but also not the least bit relaxed.
“Ho there, friends,” a guy next to the guards called out, going as far as raising a hand. Nate stopped and our entire group came to a halt, leaving just enough room between us to give everyone space to move. My fingers were sweaty enough that I yearned to switch my grip, but I refrained, lest anyone took it for nervous fidgeting.
Cutting right to the chase, Nate looked from the leader to Innes.
“I see that you’re still keeping one of ours,” he observed—not quite hostile, but his tone clearly conveyed that he wasn’t happy about the situation.
“Just a precaution,” the guy responded. “Been a while since we met anyone. It’s nice to get a chance to chat. Catch up on things, stuff like that, you know?”
The look on Nate’s face could have meant anything.
“We don’t really have anything to trade,” he offered. “Just tell us what it takes for you to let our man go, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Oh, we’re not holding anyone hostage,” the guy said, smiling—although the rope keeping Innes’s wrists secured together in front of his body was speaking plainly that he was lying through his teeth. “Maybe with the right incentive you’ll find something? You’re welcome to stay at our camp for a while.”
If he was trying to get a rise out of Nate, he had to work much harder, that was obvious.
“You said you have a camp? We have two tents that we don’t really need. You can have those.”
The leader weighed his options, but much to my surprise, he shook his head. “Nah, keep them. And as a token of our good faith, you can have your man back. But we’ll keep his gun and ammo. As a parting gift, you understand?”
Nate inclined his head. “Much obliged.”
I held my breath as Innes stumbled his way down the slope, just waiting for him to trip over a mine or fall into a pit. But he made it down safely, where Andrej lowered his rifle so
he could cut through the bonds. Innes accepted the Glock that Andrej kept at his hip—leaving him with only two backup guns, as far as I knew—yet with the barrel lowered. Nate didn’t look as if he’d expected anything else, still at ease as if he’d been just out on a stroll.
“I really can’t tempt you?” the guy tried again. “Our camp’s as secure as they get. Even dug some trenches. We’re decent folks, you know? Just cautious. Have some women in the camp who we help protect. Don’t have to tell ya fellas that it can get awfully lonely on the road out there.”
And I highly doubted that said “protection” came without strings attached. Just like that, I had another reason why I was damn glad that I’d fallen in with this bunch of guys, and not someone else.
“I think we’ll have to decline,” Nate said after taking exactly five seconds to consider—although I didn’t think that he actually weighed his options. The leader scowled, until Burns cleared his throat.
“Been getting awfully familiar with my right hand these past weeks,” he offered with a brilliant smile. “Then again, it’s only been weeks. From my tours in Afghanistan and Iraq I’m still used to going months without pussy. Nope, I think I’ll manage awhile longer.”
I’d never thought it possible that a stupid remark from him could make me actually like him more rather than less.
The group up on the slope looked offended. “You guys all gay?” One of them called down, while another whisper-shouted, “Damn faggots.”
While none of the others ever passed up a chance to tease each other, or make Martinez the butt-end of a joke—and now even I was guilty of that—none of them opened their mouths.
“Well, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink,” the leader said, laying on the sadness a little heavily. I wondered if they were considering trying to—as if there weren’t enough sickening possibilities whirring around my head already.
Nate gave a somewhat exaggerated shrug. “We don’t do any protecting so I think it’s fair if we don’t reap the benefits.”
“Boss, not sure if that’s not just a huge load of BS,” one of the guys further down the line called out. I could practically feel his eyes burning into me, making me want to hunch my shoulders and slink a little closer to Bates. That he could ever feel like the one to valiantly defend my virtue had not seemed possible until a few moments ago. “Because that one over there has a mighty fine ass, and I’ve never found a boy any way attractive.”
The tension in the air shot up from one moment to the next, and the row up on the slope was only a hint quicker in raising their weapons than we were. Suddenly, all the times Pia had been drilling me into immediately falling into a defensive stance seemed a lot less ridiculous.
And it wasn’t Nate who replied this time, but the Ice Queen herself, her usually faint accent heavy enough to make her words slightly garbled.
“Just give me a reason to shoot off your cock. It’s been weeks since I got any precision shooting at really small targets.”
No one laughed, but from the corner of my eye I could see Burns’s lips quirk up. Assholes will be assholes.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Nate said, his words—if not his tone—trying to defuse the moment. “As you can clearly see, we carry enough firepower to blast you all into the stone-age. And trust me when I say that all of us are fucking surgeons at this distance, whether something dangles between our legs or not.”
The leader contemplated this for endless seconds, but then lowered his gun, even if he was the only one. “Stand down,” he told his men. Then, to us, “You can go. But we’ll be watching you. So you don’t get any funny ideas, ya know?”
“Don’t worry. We won’t,” Nate promised, and with a jerk of his chin started walking. The rest of us followed—weapons still up and aimed at the slope—and I was kind of glad when Burns and Andrej fell back to guard our rear. Only when we were out of range did the guys slowly lower their guns, but still kept them at the ready. We spread out a little more, but tension remained in the air, at least until the men on the slope dropped back into the trees, out of sight.
Martinez relaxed next to me and let out a loud breath, prompting me to do the same.
“Damn. But the one time anyone compliments me on my curves, it has to almost end in a bloodbath,” I muttered, braving a smile when Burns guffawed behind me.
“You want compliments? Shit, girl, you just need to let me know and I’ll praise your ass and tits from sunup till sundown. Just didn’t dare yet. Too afraid you’d cut off my cock if I’d try.”
Glancing back at him over my shoulder, I gave him the brightest grin I could manage.
“Your cock, and your balls. Wouldn’t want to unbalance you, big guy.”
I think it was Santos who snickered somewhere in front of me, and Martinez snorted.
“Just because he’s packing muscle everywhere else doesn’t mean he’s packing much there.”
“Why, you checking him out, Martinez?” Andrej asked.
“Professional curiosity as a medic, is all,” Martinez insisted. “After all, if he gets his balls cut off, I should know if he’ll need stitches, or if a bandage will suffice.”
Our banter got us a few sharp looks from the front, but I couldn’t kill the smile on my face. Post-fright jitters, I was sure, but it was actually fun to let off steam like that—and be included in the ribbing.
“Someone’s following us,” Santos cut through our mirth, making everyone snap back to attention.
“One of them?” Andrej wanted to know.
“Nope, doesn’t look like it.”
We slowed, moving into a tighter formation, but when I looked back, it wasn’t any of the armed men following us. It wasn’t even anyone male, at least not over the age of approximately ten, I realized. Four figures were slinking along the trees, two taller and two smaller ones, and when they saw us slow down, they ran down the increasingly softer slope, waving at us.
“Wait up! Please.”
Glancing at Martinez, I could see a similar unease on his face as I figured was on mine. As they came closer, it was easy to identify the four as a woman and her three children—presumably hers, but I doubted she would have taken them with her if they weren’t. The oldest—a girl of maybe thirteen—didn’t look particularly happy, but the frightened glances she kept shooting back where they had come from were obvious enough. The smaller children—two boys—were maybe eight and ten, the empty looks on their haggard faces enough to give me nightmares. I didn’t even want to consider what they had been through to just up and run after us, but that didn’t mean I was happy to see them here now.
No one said anything, but the looks Nate and Pia were trading made it clear that they were debating. The Ice Queen appeared ready to chew steel, and while Nate didn’t exactly seem ecstatic, he kept his hostility in check.
The woman gathered her two smaller children close to her as they reached us, stopping several feet away. Her older daughter lurked behind her shoulder, still stubborn but with hope now dawning on her face.
“Thank you,” the mother called, out of breath from their jog. “Please, take us with you? I promise, we won’t be a burden. I can cook, do your laundry. We won’t slow you down.”
I highly doubted the latter. Yet before anyone else could rain on their parade, Skip spoke up, attempting something that might have been an encouraging smile.
“Of course you can come with us,” he promised. Then it occurred to him that heavy silence still hung over the entire group, and he looked hopefully at Nate. “Right? What’s four more people? You took us in, too.”
Pia looked ready to remedy that any moment now, but after another tense moment, Nate nodded, stepping around the group and up to the woman, his face stony.
“You can come with us, at least until we find somewhere safe for you to stay. But only if you follow our rules.”
I hadn’t been aware that we had any rules—well, except for not act like a stupid fucktard—but no one spoke up, thankfu
lly. The woman was quick to nod, offering a hesitant but clearly relieved smile.
“Thank you. I promise, you won’t regret it. I can be very resourceful.”
That I didn’t doubt, and I really didn’t like the way she was smiling at Nate now. Yet true to his general stoic behavior he just nodded and turned back to assume his usual place next to Pia.
“Just make sure that you keep up with us,” he called back, and on we went.
Chapter 15
We stopped a little early that night—still away from the river, but even I could see that the clearing next to a small creek, open on two sides with just enough trees growing nearby to serve as cover, was ideal to make camp. Because we’d already done our drills in the morning, Pia selected a few of the guys to go foraging instead, but drove home the fact that they shouldn’t use their guns unless a zombie was already chomping down on their necks. At first, I was happy not to be selected, but then I noticed that first Bates, then Santos disappeared behind the small thicket, Madeline—the mother—in tow.
And, just like that, the relative ease I’d so far felt around the guys was shot to hell.
The first change of guards was up, and when Martinez got up to do the rounds, he shook his head at Burns and instead came up to me. “Wanna tag along?”
I sent him a long look, but then got up, grabbing my shotgun. “Sure.” So far I’d been spared the extra time on my feet, but now that additional bit of exhaustion wasn’t that bad anymore.
We quickly swung by Pia to let her know that we were out and about, neither her nor Nate batting a lash at seeing me for support. Avoiding the trees, we cut right through to the stream, walking along the riverbed while we scanned the terrain for movement or anything large enough to hide one predator or another. I figured it would be any day now for the wildlife to take back what humans had claimed.
The Green Fields Series Box Set: Books 1-3 Page 44
