Parr nodded, which somehow was a signal for everyone to take their seats. The guy opposite me—Leary, sitting between the captain and Nekanda—tried to start the same bullshit with me as Nate had going on with Parr, but I gave him a pleasant, slightly insipid smile. Buehler was frowning, but when she caught that smile, she snorted under her breath, quickly trying to hide it under a pretend coughing fit. That made me remember that I had, in fact, seen her working out in the hangar a couple of times. She’d even helped me get one of the heavy weight plates onto the bar when my right hand had been acting up. For what must have been the millionth time I cursed Bucky for being such an asshole. The last two weeks could have gone down a lot smoother otherwise.
While I had been busy studying the lineup, most of them had started browsing the small paper slips placed at their designated places, so I picked up mine. There were what amounted to three meal options printed on each. “You circle the one you want,” Burns whispered as he leaned closer.
“Yeah, I figured that,” I murmured back. “Seeing as that’s what all of them are doing now.”
That got me a snort—and unlike the marine sergeant, Burns didn’t try to hide it, which was a small relief. Buehler herself had a hard time keeping a straight face. She struck me as the kind of woman who would inappropriately roar with laughter, and be great to gets drinks with afterward. I’d come here with the full intention of repeating to her what I’d already told Nekanda—to let her marines off easily—but I decided to renege on that. It would likely have offended her, unlike anything else I could have flung in her face. And if it had happened because of her wrong judgment, I was sure that the two imbeciles had slinked away with a mere slap on the wrists.
After one of the young sailors had collected the menu slips, Parr returned to scrutinizing us, beginning with Nate. “I hope that besides a few minor misunderstandings, your stay with us has been pleasant, Capt. Miller?”
And that’s when I finally figured out where the latent animosity among my guys came from. I hadn’t even thought for a moment how being among members—officers, no less—of other branches of the military could turn out to be for us. Except for looking at Nate as our leader, I’d never seen any of the guys act as anything but equals—and Pia, of course, his undisputed second in command. Rationally, I’d been aware that they were a mixed bunch, but I still hadn’t quite figured out how the hierarchy should have been, which had long since turned inconsequential, anyway. Now, maybe not so much.
Nate gave Parr a rather stern look. “As you are, without a doubt, aware, Commander, I have been dishonorably discharged and stripped of my rank. And even if that hadn’t been the case, bearing in mind our recent history, I wouldn’t use it anymore.”
Parr took that without any kind of reaction, his attention skipping right over me. “And you, Sergeant Burns—“
He got a tight, fake grin for that. “Same difference, although you’d likely have to call me a deserter. Don’t care about my rank, either. Would just complicate things otherwise because technically, that would set me up as the leader of our illustrious bunch, and as that’s the farthest thing from what I want, thanks, but no thanks.”
Before Parr could ask, Tanner offered, “Those three are our top dogs. Don’t look to me for answers. I wasn’t in active duty at the time, and the rest is history.”
Unexpectedly, Buehler spoke up at that. “How come you weren’t? From what we’ve heard, the Army mobilized overnight, starting said Tuesday, and besides us and the Navy, they’ve had surprisingly high report rates.” Her gaze briefly flickered to Tanner’s left hand where a similar mark was inked like the three across his neck. “Or maybe not that surprising for some.”
Tanner’s answering grimace was a painful one. “Because I was doing time, and until they realized that they might have used me as an asset, civilization as we know it was no longer existing.”
Now wasn’t that an interesting tidbit? Leaning to Nate, I whispered, “I’m starting to think I’m the only one sitting here who’s got nothing for the shit being flung around to stick to.”
Nate did not deign to answer to that. A wise choice.
Tanner’s smile had turned a little more jovial by the time he continued. “It wasn’t the worst place to hunker down and wait until the situation cleared up, and the guards had weapons aplenty that they didn’t need anymore. Me and a few others likely had an easier time surviving the first months than a lot of those caught outside. After we’d had to do a thorough cleanup of our cell block, of course.” If anything, his tale got him an admiring nod from Buehler. Tanner glanced at his seat neighbor next. “And our girl Gita here did a great job turning from city girl to survivalist all on her own.” It was then that I realized that I’d never asked her for her surname, wondering now if she even used one.
That explained, Parr’s attention turned to me, and I could tell that he hadn’t skipped over me to snub me, but because he had a really hard time placing me in context to the others. “May I presume that at least you, Dr. Lewis, still use your academic title?”
I wondered for a moment whether he was trying to bait me, but his tone was too pleasant for that. My fingers twitched involuntarily, my desire to hide my hands under the table top strong once more, but I forced them to remain where they were, right there in plain sight.
“Actually, I pretty much stopped seeing myself as a scientist the day I got my marks. When I joined my fellow scavengers, out there, exiled to the roads.” And gee, wasn’t I being romantic tonight. Turning serious, I went on. “And I’m sure Capt. Hamilton has already informed you about my recent history, and how our paths have a tendency to cross in not quite peaceful ways. You’d better forget most of what he might have told you about us as it’s as much heavily biased as very likely completely untrue.”
Oh, Bucky must have told quite the tales, judging from how Buehler once more struggled to remain neutral, while the other officers—except for Higgs—did some communal glowering. Parr did the best job appearing unaffected.
“I think his exact words to describe you were that you are an exceptionally intelligent woman prone to making exceptionally stupid choices.”
Against my better judgment, that assessment made me snort. “Yeah, he’d think so, I’m sure. I’m also sure he neglected to explain his own idiocy and insubordination while heavily layering on ours. Don’t get me started on that man’s shortcomings.”
Once more, Buehler spoke up, and judging from how the officer next to the captain grimaced, she wasn’t expected to. “He told us that you were all under his command, with absolutely no mention that you were, in fact, not part of the army any longer, or never had been. I only found out about that last week when I had a chat with your communications specialist at the gym. It’s probably a moot question, but how exactly did you come to be here?”
“He’s not our commanding officer,” I repeated what I’d already told her marines.
Nate cleared his throat next to me, making me shoot him a sidelong glance. “Technically, he is. You were there when you agreed to follow his orders.”
I had to think hard, trying to make sense of that. “Oh, you mean at that meeting with Raynor and that buffoon of a general, or whatever he was?”
Nekanda and Leary looked scandalized at that, while Buehler and the chief were mostly amused.
“Yes, that meeting,” Nate pressed out.
“And you think I actually remember anything from there, except that I was fucking glad I only lost three fingers, a bunch of toes, however many non-vital organs, and the fucking bacteria didn’t eat off half of my face?” I had a good recollection still of how Raynor had baited me into agreeing, but that was beside the point.
Nate’s expression was unreadable, but I got the vague sense that he was rather amused by the reactions my words drew from the other side of the table. The captain still remained impartial, but Buehler was itching to ask, I could tell. And since we were still waiting for the soup—if there would be any, I had no stinking clue—I wa
s only too happy to regale her with the tale.
“You see, my beef with Hamilton is many-fold, but the part that is likely most pertinent for you is that he has a history of disobeying orders where I am concerned. I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I think that every single time we met, he had a standing order to bring me in, and he never really tried. Well, once, at that factory, he did, but considering that they had set a trap with a good two hundred zombies locked away that they unleashed on us, I don’t think the plan was for any of us to survive. The powers that be wanted me on their side for the help I could have given, but he let his ego get in the way every single time. You likely heard about us going to war against him, which culminated in us forcing a truce on him?”
Buehler inclined her head. “His version of the event was slightly different.” The way she stressed that made it obvious exactly how much our stories diverged.
“I’m sure it was. Fact is, by then the lead scientist of his faction knew that I wasn’t immune to the zombie virus—and even less so the massive bacterial infection the bite of our undead scourge comes with—and she sent him out to invite me to come to her so she could keep me from rotting from the inside out. He must have neglected that small detail, which, in hindsight, looks to be the only real reason he was sent there with orders to agree to our terms, as they could have just as easily fought us until everyone on both sides would have turned into zombie fodder. That scientist is now so pissed off at him that she has managed to convince their military strategists that it would be wiser to let me and my husband do his job instead. If you thought we were along as technical advisors, think again. We’re both here as a test run to see what we can accomplish, and how their soldiers handle having us in charge. That is what is actually happening, and that is also the reason for the altercation that so utterly confused your men earlier today. Hamilton is a limp-dick asshole who is watching everything he has ever been fighting for slip right through his fingers, and only because he was a fucking idiot over and over again. I’m not even sure if he still knows why he is holding the grudge that set all this in motion, but we sure don’t want to be a part of this. So, in the light of all that information, whose version of the story do you believe?”
“Neither,” Parr answered, making me turn my attention back to him. “But then I have the luxury of not having to take sides. You are all guests on my ship, and as far as I’m concerned, I’m happy to have you off tomorrow morning.” He offered that with a hint of a smile that made me realize that, indeed, he was joking, but only so much.
I tried my best at an appeasing smile. “I think I speak for my people when I say that we thank you for offering us your hospitality, and that you and your crew have treated us well. We’d love to catch a ride back home, though, from wherever you’re kicking us out.”
“France,” Leary, next to the captain, provided. “And we are to check back in exactly one week for a few hours, then return for final pickup in a month. If you’re not there after three days, we have to resume our route back to the States.”
That was the most information anyone had given me so far, and I was surprised to get it from them, now. He seemed to be waiting for something in return from me, but all I could do was shrug.
“You know more than we do,” Nate explained, finally relaxing. “How much sense that makes I don’t need to explain to you. As my wife has already mentioned, our reasons not to accept Hamilton’s authority are many, and all of them directly relate to the fact that he’s not a good leader.”
“And still you chose to come along with him,” Nekanda protested. “Why?”
I wisely kept my trap shut, leaving it up to Nate to answer that. He hesitated, considering, and went with the truth. “The others had a choice. Not so much Bree and me. The options they gave us were to either fall in line, or watch them slaughter our friends. I don’t have to explain that this wasn’t a hard choice to make.”
None of the others reacted, so Nate must have filled them in before. I couldn’t remember; maybe I’d been the one to spill the beans. The first few days of my recovery were like one hazy acid trip.
“Doesn’t mean that we won’t do our best to make this mission a success,” I offered. “Whatever said mission will turn out to be. Hamilton might be an ass, but his lieutenant knows how to handle his men, and he has done his very best to turn us all into one fighting team.” Several of the officers nodded, Buehler the obvious exception, but judging from how she was suddenly studying her blunt, short fingernails, I had a certain feeling that she and Red had gotten along exceptionally well. Good for them.
Perfectly on cue, our meals arrived, serving as a welcome distraction. Conversation turned to food and other related anecdotes, what still lingered of the previous tension soon forgotten. Chief Higgs was almost as bad as Burns with his vivid recollections of what sailors did once they were off their destroyers, and the others easily kept the ball rolling. There was only one slightly awkward moment when, over dessert, Parr asked Nate how it had come that the army had kicked him out, but Nate’s reply was a surprisingly self-reflective one. “I swore an oath to protect my country. Then I put my ego above that. I had no place among their ranks anymore, and they were justified in doing so.” Parr and Leary gave curt yet almost admirable nods. That made me wonder if, maybe, Red had run interference for us, correcting a few assessments Bucky’s lies might have put in place.
All in all, it was an almost pleasant evening with a few hitches along the road. The food was a bonus, even if I could only really enjoy the scent of it. Not having to sit where Bucky or his flunkies could gloat at me was nice. We parted as, if not quite friends, more or less respectful comrades fighting on the same side of a battle none of us had chosen. Knowing that they wouldn’t leave us stranded in France out of spite was a relief. Knowing that we might get stuck there for at least half a year if our rendezvous didn’t work out, not so much. But Parr explained that their job was to patrol the northern Atlantic, including most of the European coasts this side of the Strait of Gibraltar. That was also why they had the marines with them—something I was told wasn’t ordinary—as a recon and salvage team. I could tell that Buehler was itching to come with us, but her mission was a different one.
On our way back to our quarters—sated, and in Gita’s case, slightly inebriated—I felt a little better about our lot for the very first time. Working with the likes of Bucky was hell for me, and I knew I wasn’t alone in that. But people like Parr or Buehler—and in a sense, Red as well—let me see a light at the end of the tunnel. Their dedication to a job that had pretty much become obsolete as the zombies had overrun the cities spoke of dedication and duty that I’d found sorely lacking from a lot of people in the recent months. The likes of Bucky, I didn’t trust to uphold our truce come spring. But someone like Parr wouldn’t even have let things escalate this far.
It stood to reason that the events of the last year and a half had made many reflect on what duty meant for them. The fact that Parr, Leary, and their crew all still serving on the destroyer, far away from any families—if they had survived—was telling. I still couldn’t relate, not on a personal level, but I could respect that—same as I was, if much more grudgingly, starting to respect it in Red and the other soldiers. Hamilton wasn’t an asswipe because he was in the army, but because he was the human representation of fecal matter. There was hoping I wasn’t completely wrong, but if that was the case, I had the feeling I’d only get a few minutes, at best, to regret it.
Yet it was that exact thought that made a different kind of unease well up inside of me. Whoever was giving orders to Bucky and his lot must have different goals than Parr and Buehler, who clearly saw it as their mission to uphold what standards of civilization there still were, and help rebuild by using what dwindling resources they still had available. But, like them, the soldiers had initially helped the settlements, and were still adamant about that whenever asked. So what the fuck had gone wrong?
I had the sinking feeling that I’d very soo
n get an answer for that, and it likely lay in France.
Chapter 10
I was exhausted by the time we returned to our quarters, but not quite tired enough to tuck in yet. So when Nate suggested to do one last check on the few bandages I was still wearing, I followed him to the head without question, not quite sure what to expect. That he didn’t have any nefarious intentions was obvious from his mood—quiet, bordering on glum—that he no longer tried to hide as soon as it was just the two of us. I hopped up onto the bank of sinks once I was down to my underwear to make it easier on him to check my thigh and toes. He pretended to poke around some, but we both knew that it was a moot point. All of my wounds had closed up for good a few days ago, and while there was still some residual bruising, there was no need to reapply any of the bandages.
I was a second away from asking him what this was about when he looked up from my thigh, both hands now set on the steel frame I was sitting on, as he looked me dead in the face.
“Thank you for not spilling the beans on exactly why you came so close to eviscerating Hamilton today.”
Something deep inside of my chest seized up, and it was easier to joke than acknowledge it.
“It’s such a nice word. Eviscerate. So underused in everyday language.”
Nate snorted, and I knew he was about to call me his little homicidal maniac again, but for once passed up that chance. Instead, he exhaled slowly, and it was only then that I realized he was shaking slightly with tension. No, emotion, I corrected myself. Holy shit—Nate was about to have a nervous breakdown. Swallowing became incredibly hard for me, frustration hailing from not knowing what to do—or say, or how to react and make it all better—made me reach for him, but he turned his head away, no longer able to look me in the eyes.
“I’m so fucking sorry for what I did to you,” he whispered, his voice a low croak full of emotion and a world of regret. “Not just what that fucked-up mind control shit made me do. Everything. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t chatted you up in that park. If I hadn’t selected you from that three-page long roster of possible choices who could help me down in the hot labs. Shit, I didn’t even really need any help; I could have just gone in there without any protection. We made sure to scrub it all well in advance.”
Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 3 | Books 7-9 Page 50
