We came around a bend in the softly sloping road that was headed toward a hill—and all of a sudden found the road ahead of us cleared of all snow, recently enough that the wind hadn’t managed to undo the work. That it wasn’t a natural phenomenon was obvious from how abruptly the snow drifts ended. Nate eased up on the throttle until the ATV came to a stop, the front wheels on the shoveled path, the back ones still in the snow.
“Guess this is it, huh?” I offered, incapable of keeping a slight tremor out of my voice.
“Point of no return,” Nate pointed out, agreeing with me. “I’m sure they have guards posted farther out than this, but I doubt they’ll pursue us if we turn around and zoom back the way we’ve come.” He paused. “Your choice.”
That surprised me, considering his vehemence from before—but I appreciated the sentiment. Somehow, it made the decision that wasn’t actually one much easier. “You mean, do I walk or do you carry me?”
“Oh, you’re walking,” Nate grumbled, gunning the engine one last time to send the ATV toward the crest of the hill.
As soon as we reached the highest point, I knew we’d arrived. Before us, down the soft slope on the other side of the hill, lay something I hadn’t expected to ever see again—a fully functional military base. Not a single soul was in sight beyond where the road ended at a closed gate in a mesh fence, heavily reinforced with criss-crossed iron struts on the inside, all around the circumference of the perimeter. It spanned at least twice the area of Dispatch, with several clusters of warehouses, huge buildings that looked like hangars, neat rows of above-ground housing, and an odd assortment of concrete block buildings. What looked like a massive runway was completely cleared of snow, with the area close to one of the concrete blocks taken over by a fleet of miscellaneous trucks and orderly parked Humvees, the latter looking ready for deployment on a moment’s notice.
“Think they are expecting us?” I chuffed as I studied the setup. It looked so irritatingly bland that I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Nate’s silence, more than anything else, let me know that I shouldn’t trust that impression, but anything that kept my nerves at bay was fine with me.
Rather than reply, Nate slid off the seat, stepping away so I could do the same. He didn’t offer a helping hand but I was sure that the moment I was about to stagger or fall, he’d catch me. Steeling my spine, I did my very best to keep my muscles in check. Why I was even trying to appear stronger than I felt, I didn’t know; it certainly felt redundant, seeing as I was sure that the moment we’d left the Silo, someone up here had gotten a call, or email, or whatever form of communication they still had available.
Then I remembered why I was trying to keep up appearances: ego. I might have come up here because it was my only option, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t do that with my back straight and my head held high.
The gusts of wind tearing at our gear were as good an excuse as any why it took us a good minute to walk over to the gate—and the very welcoming black camera, pointed at the space in front of the entrance. A million thoughts ran through my head of how I could possibly spin this, but all of them ended in useless puffs of smoke long before my mind could settle on a single useful sentence. So I did what I knew best—I winged it.
Rocking to a halt right in front of the eye of the camera—more because taking another step might have sent me to my knees than because I was considerate about the people watching the video feed—I glared up at the black lens as I pushed back the hood of my jacket, then yanked my wool hat and scarf off so that my head was fully uncovered. Last, I pulled off my shades, only then noticing that I wasn’t weeping clear tears anymore but something that looked rather close to half-congealed blood. It was bad enough that I could see the smears all across my face in the reflection. Well, I hadn’t planned on stunning anyone with my beauty, anyway.
Throwing my arms up to my sides—which almost made me stagger, but I tried to turn that into a mock curtsy—I shouted, “You want me? Here I am. And I got a proposition that’s too good for you to refuse.”
I wasn’t sure if there were any speakers hidden anywhere, but I didn’t get an answer. I was sure that they’d heard me, though, so I went on after a dramatic pause that was just long enough for me to catch my breath.
“I have Raleigh Miller’s data. Not the work shit that likely landed on your servers in the first place, or what he’d been fine-tuning in his off-hours back at the Green Fields Biotech hot labs. No, what he was really working on. Which was, as we all know, how to keep his brother from turning into a viral nuke on two legs. The only reason he’d ever join such an illustrious group as yours.” Another pause, for the very same reason. Damn, but screaming over the howling of the wind didn’t help. “I know that you don’t have his notes, because he made damn sure you wouldn’t get them in the first place. And you want them, because you’re still not done perfecting the serum, and they are a vital part in how you can get there. But you don’t just want them, no. You want my input on them as well, trust me. Turns out, he was on the cusp of a breakthrough but decided to put it on hold. That file was dated two weeks before his death. Three weeks before I would have started working for him. Wanna know why? Because he was basing that theory on something I’d discussed with him for my thesis, but it hadn’t worked for me so it never got published anywhere. It’s also not in his notes. Only one copy of that still exists, and that’s up here.” I theatrically pointed at my temple. “So what you’re gonna do now is fix me, and you’re going to pay very special attention to doing it well, or else I won’t be able to feel appreciative and in a cooperative mood that will let me remember all that science shit.” I briefly glanced at Nate, but all he did was silently gloat at the camera. “You have fifteen minutes to decide. Then we turn around and go, and your scientific breakthrough will be history.”
Keeping my balance was easier with my arms crossed over my stomach, so I eased back into as relaxed a stance as I could manage without keeling over the next second. A look of vague surprise at my revelation crossed Nate’s face, but it was one of the “at least I didn’t do this for nothing,” kind. Now all I could do was hope that I wasn’t wrong. There was still a good chance they’d try to save my life independent of this, but I felt like I had a somewhat better negotiating position.
A minute passed, then another. Nothing happened. I half turned to Nate, figuring that now was the last chance we’d get at a moderately private conversation—only to find that I was at an utter loss for what to say. He picked right up on that, a hint of a smile crossing his features. Reaching up, he lightly brushed his gloved thumb over my—without a doubt blood-speckled—bottom lip. “I know.”
A loud, grating sound coming from deeper inside the base was as good an excuse as any not to verbally acknowledge the fact that we’d reached the height of geek references in our relationship. Really, there wasn’t anything I could have said that he didn’t already know. But there was something else I still needed to get out while I had some time. “You don’t have to come with me. I can do this alone. Might even need you to spring me later, so you should probably hop on that ATV and race away. There’s still enough fuel in there to get back to where we picked it up. You could reach the others within a day or two more.”
Nate didn’t hesitate for a moment as he shook his head. “You need all the bargaining power you can get. And even though I feel useless as fuck right now, to them I’m still an asset.” His tone was awfully hard but at the same time bleak as he said that, once more reminding me what kind of people we were dealing with. With the insanity of the zombie apocalypse happening—including finding out how and why it had happened—it had been too easy to forget what the serum had always been intended for, and that had never been a morally sound, humanitarian objective. Not since it had gone into mass production and application. Nate had managed to extricate himself from all that, against all odds, and he’d spent the last year and a half doing everything in his power to keep it that way. And now he was giving all that up, ju
st for me. Yeah, words were overrated sometimes.
Motion at the concrete building behind the Humvees drew my attention and I snapped my mouth shut as I tried to make out anything, not easy with the wind slicing against my already hypersensitive, burning eyes. Soldiers, a good twenty of them, on foot, came marching up what looked like a ramp from the underground bowels of the building. Now that looked a lot more like a black ops site should.
It took me only about twenty seconds to recognize their commander, who was marching at the very front of the group. Rolling my eyes heavenward, I let out a small sigh. “You really have it out for me, huh?” I didn’t need to check whether Nate had recognized him—if I with my shot-up eyes could see that much, so could he. “You can still run, you know?” This time I got a low growl for an answer. Well, that settled it.
Exhaling slowly to gather the last reserves still left in my body, I did my best to stomp out the flames of fear licking on my very soul. This was something I was familiar with. This was something I could do. Had done, several times. Because no other than Bucky fucking Hamilton was marching across that runway toward us, smirk on his face, and I’d rather die right this very second than show even a hint of weakness in front of him.
The entire procession stopped at the other side of the gate, no one making a move to open it yet. Hamilton continued to gloat as he stepped forward, close enough that I could have spit on him had I stooped that low. I was considering it, sure that a stunt like that would wipe that stupid grin off his face. What mostly held me back was the fact that I was afraid I would fall right on my face if I tried, and there really was no need for that.
“Look what dragged itself out from under a waste dump somewhere,” he jeered, as if that would impress anyone. “I quite clearly remember telling you that you’re not welcome here.”
It was hard not to react to that except continue to stare blankly at him. Unlike at our last encounter, Nate had a rather tight grip on himself, and I wasn’t going to threaten that if I could help it. And it wasn’t every day that I could pretend to be the mature one.
“Speaking of which, I’m retroactively surprised that they didn’t just take you out back and shoot you for disobeying a direct order when you returned from your little diplomatic mission where we last met,” I said as levelly as I could. “Did you tell them that you didn’t even try relaying that invitation to me? Or did your buddy right there cover up for you?” I nodded at the red-haired soldier that had been with him in Colorado as well; I remembered none of the others, but he’d stood out to me then for whatever reason. “Told them that you tried your very best to be an elder statesman, but that recalcitrant bitch just wouldn’t listen to reason?”
My suspicion that I had been correct in guessing that Bucky’d had a similar envelope with him as the one that Wilkes had handed me proved right, but all the fucktard did now was shrug. “As I remember it, you were very adamant about not letting me discuss terms. Not my fault.”
I didn’t miss that the other soldier looked displeased for a second, but he schooled his expression too quick for me to jump on it. Not that I would have. We were just wasting time, and that was the only thing I didn’t have.
“Please, by all means, continue to lie to yourself. The people at whose side you kneel like the good boy that you are will be very understanding that they almost missed out on getting their grubby hands on their chosen objective because of your little deception game there. I’m sure that will be a great comfort to you when they bend you over and fuck your ass without lube so maybe you’ll do better next time.” Maybe I should have done more of that pretending, but it was just too hard to keep my game up. Red let out a low snort that I thought was a muffled laugh, further undermining Hamilton’s slipping show of superiority. So there had been consequences already, and me dragging that dead horse back out into the light to beat it some more was not the kind of reminder he enjoyed. Too bad.
“Such a class act, as usual,” Bucky ground out, as if that would insult anyone.
“Well, considering I’m not here because of my winning attitude, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think of me,” I shot back. “Are we done yet?”
Hamilton opened his mouth, without a doubt to deliver another gem, but went ramrod straight the next second. I couldn’t hear whoever was yelling into his earpiece, but I was sure that I wasn’t the only one not too amused about his stalling. That went on for maybe fifteen seconds before he gave himself a visible shake and reached for the gate control. It took a seven number combination and his handprint for the gate to start rolling into the side of the fence, well-oiled enough to only make the faintest of mechanical noises. Red and one other soldier who looked vaguely more competent—although that was saying not quite a lot as they all looked like they could easily kill me with their bare hands—stepped forward, looking moderately enthusiastic about the task in store for them.
“Drop all your weapons and packs,” Red directed, obviously having drawn the short lot as he walked up to me. “Don’t give us any reason to drop you on the floor and search you, sitting on your backs.”
I wondered if he said that for my benefit, but his even tone gave me no hint whether he’d enjoy that or think it little beyond a nuisance.
Without hesitation, I pulled my knife from the sheath and dropped it on the ground, but hesitated with the Beretta in my hand, albeit holding it in the most non-threatening way possible. “Mind if I get that back once we’re done here?”
Red’s brows shot up. “Sentimental value?” Beyond him, I thought I saw Hamilton perk up a little.
I did my best to shrug nonchalantly as I handed Red the gun. “Not that particular gun, but I’m partial to the model. You manly men don’t strike me as the types who want to shoot with the girl gun. If there’s a chance I will need it later on, would be neat if you could hang on to it.” It was a joke, of course; several of the guys had been lugging similar pistols around with them without ever complaining.
I expected a smirk—or at least a rendition of the old “why shoot a 9mm if you could use a .45” argument—but got a curt nod as he pocketed the gun. That sent a sliver of hope through me—maybe he’d bury it with my burnt ashes. Who knew?
To everyone’s disappointment, that was everything he was going to get from me, although he patted me down as thoroughly as possible with me wearing full winter gear. Maybe a little too thoroughly in some places, but it wouldn’t have been the first time that I’d tried to smuggle in something weaponizable using a place some people might not want to check too closely on a woman. Not that I thought anyone here would have issues with groping me. Once done, Red joined the other soldier, who had a little more work to do with Nate.
“I wouldn’t open that out here,” I told him as he reached for the pack. Tension ratcheted up immediately, making me smirk at the cautious looks traded between Red and the other soldier who’d just picked up Nate’s small arsenal. I hadn’t bothered with trying to wedge a shotgun between me and the ATV, or me and Nate, but he’d taken care of that. “Not because we rigged it with explosives, stupid,” I chuffed. “There are loose papers with notes in there. If you open it out here, you’re going to spend the next hour chasing after them. Just looking out for you.”
Red didn’t respond, but he was decidedly careful as he opened the zipper of the main compartment just far enough to glance inside. Bucky looked downright disappointed when Red just slung the pack over his shoulder without further comment. Too bad, really. If I’d known that I could be that annoying by being smart, I wouldn’t have bothered with all the insults.
Nah, who was I kidding? But it was something to file away for later.
Red was as thorough with patting down Nate as he’d been with me, adding a small pocket knife and lighter to the other soldier’s collection, but commenting on neither. His expression was neutral as he stepped away from Nate and gave the “all clear” nod, but I couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t buying our reasonable-bordering-on-harmless game. But what did we have to
lose, really? Neither my ego nor dignity needed to give anyone an excuse to rough me up. Or maybe I was misjudging his reaction, and it was really a surprise that we could act reasonable? I made a mental note to ask Nate how many of Bucky’s flunkies he was familiar with, provided I got the chance. One more oversight I felt I would soon come to regret.
Without making another snide comment, Hamilton turned around and marched back the way they’d come, his soldiers closing in around us as we followed. My legs were shaking with strain from supporting my body weight even at a light pace, but I locked my muscles as best I could and forced myself to remain upright. Not having to slog through snow helped, but with every step that I had to take, the next one was just a little harder. I was winded before we’d traversed half of the runway, and panting by the time we reached the gate at the top of the ramp. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep myself from swaying as we had to stop while we waited for the gate to magically open. Nate, about as animated as a statue—and in that fitting in way too perfectly for my comfort—cast a concerned look my way, but didn’t move a muscle when I didn’t react.
Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 3 | Books 7-9 Page 28
