“And here I thought it was mere coincidence that almost all of us wouldn’t have passed that weird glowy-eyes test.” I paused, considering. “Did you know that there’s something in the serum that makes our fluids, including fresh scars and eyes, glow in what I suppose is some kind of near-black light frequency?”
Greene looked rather nonplussed. “How do you think they quick-test their own soldiers?”
That made more sense than I’d expected. “Then why go through the hoodoo blood screen they forced on all the scavengers?”
I knew it was a stupid question when Greene smirked at me. “To see how much you’ve been screwing the pooch?” he suggested but went on before our conversation could derail any further. “I’m sure that by now either your husband or one of your other higher-ranking illustrious companions has told you that the Esterhazy base has, for a long time, been one of the experimental labs of the serum project? That was late-stage, almost-ready-for-mass-production testing. The lab you’re heading to now? That was all first-stage alpha testing. Rumor is, nobody ever came back out who was sent there. They pretty much used their test subjects until there was nothing left that could have walked out.”
My, wasn’t that a sobering thought? It certainly put a damper on my latent need to snark. Not quite a surprise, but something I could have done without knowing. And it offered a possible answer to another thing I’d been wondering about.
“Do you know if they’ve had their own version of the serum in Europe?”
Greene seemed surprised at my question. “Not as far as I know, but it’s likely that a few hundred individuals who had been inoculated were on the continent when the shit hit the fan. Why?”
“Because we’ve encountered a former security guard who was packing quite the punch. Literally, as in hitting me heavily enough that it must have burst some hidden pocket of infection I’ve still had in my torso that then caused some issues. Was a really bouncy fellow, too.” I knew Greene couldn’t do anything with that information and I mostly dropped it so I wouldn’t have to explain to the others once we were done here.
Greene considered for a moment. “No clue, really, but it stands to reason that if they developed something, they would have shot up their security staff with it. I presume it wasn’t a random encounter?”
“No, it was at the conservatory where they had a safe full of papers with serum variants in the triple digits printed on it, presumably the backup location for some of the data from that secret lab.” Again I sent a gloating look at Hamilton over my shoulder that went ignored just like the previous one. Spoilsport.
“Probably expect more of that when you get down there,” Greene advised unnecessarily. “Another bit of information you will find interesting: the lab went silent two weeks before the outbreak happened in the States.”
I could almost hear the screeching sound of my thoughts grinding to a halt. “Wait a minute. The virus hit Europe weeks after it had already wiped most of us off the earth.” We’d found plenty of old newspapers propagating that.
“Exactly,” Greene agreed with me.
“Shit.” I could tell from the way that Nate shifted that he hadn’t made the same logical jump as I had. Half-turning to him but speaking loud enough that everyone in the room could hear me, I tried to explain. “However they managed to get the weaponized virus into the damn syrup and distributed all over the US, they must have manufactured it somewhere. There’s a good chance that part of that lab was a bank of bioreactors so they could manufacture whatever they needed for their experiments in bulk. The lab likely went dark when whoever these whack-jobs had planted as a mole or recruited had to shut down the entire facility so they could harvest the virus and get it out of there. Think several truck-loads of material.” It must have been a logistical nightmare, and no idea about the details. Then, something else occurred to me. “This was the lab that went dark that prompted Emily Raynor to push the doomsday clock button, right?”
“Must have been,” Greene agreed. “Because it was the only facility working on the serum project that went offline until we were neck-deep in undead. It’s anybody’s guess what you will find down there, but if your theory is right, you’ll also have a chance to harvest the raw version of the zombie virus. Enough to waste the fuel for one last return trip with the Navy’s last remaining, still-operational destroyer, wouldn’t you say?”
So much for thinking about what might happen if we missed our rendezvous at the beach for pickup. Something told me that whoever was there would wait—but only once.
“So we’re here to get what might be the cure, and the cause for the end of the world. Sounds very poetic.”
“A heroic quest,” Greene jeered.
“I’m sure our people back home will be cheering us on. Or they would if they knew. Never mind.”
Greene stared at me for a second, obviously considering—never a good sign. “If the news that you’ll only have one chance to come back across the pond wasn’t enough to make you worry, there’s more. Turns out, Raynor and her people have been quite busy over the past weeks, since we last talked. You likely didn’t hear it yet but you and your husband, you’re best friends with the Army and the reconstitution effort. Everyone knows that you’re working with them, all in good faith and the spirit of unity.”
If he’d slapped me physically, it would have had less of an effect on me than hearing that. “Excuse me? And people believe that bullshit?”
“Why wouldn’t they?” Greene offered, nonplussed. “His old buddies. Your career before the apocalypse happened. Nobody really knows shit about what went down at the Green Fields Biotech building, and who really got your motives for leading your crusade in late summer? They all just heard you claim that you were ambushed, and then you suddenly turned up to lead the rebellion to a surprisingly easy truce. Makes a lot more sense that you’re a plant, and it was all staged to make everyone believe you were fighting for them while, really, you were helping sell them the story they needed to hear.”
“That’s—” Preposterous wasn’t even coming close, but Greene had another word instead.
“—what people are already believing, and with you not around to try to refute it, it’s already become the truth.” He paused, watching my reaction, which was probably more amusing than anything else. And the fucking hypocrite didn’t even sound heartbroken. “I’m not saying I believe it, but a suggestion, if you will? As it is right now, the people in France might be a lot more positively inclined toward you than those on this side of the ocean. I hear Normandy is lovely in the spring.”
A stronger, much longer burst of static followed, oddly befitting how I felt hearing that. Why was I even surprised? Five minutes of feeling superior because, for once, I was ahead of the game, and, of course, karma had to knock me right back on my ass, where I belonged. So much for hoping that I’d have until we were back at the US coast to decide what to do—if we even survived.
I should probably have seen that as a warning and shut up, but when Greene’s face came back into focus, I just couldn’t hold back. Trying to appear casual now, I cocked my head to the side. “Say, does the name Decker ring a bell?”
Someone behind me—likely Bucky himself—gave a chortling huff, but I ignored it, instead trying to look for the smallest of tells on Greene’s expression—but there was none.
“In what context?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.
“Army context, what else?” I offered, trying for levity. “I’ve been hoofing it across the country with a bunch of whiney old wives who love to drag up the most cozy campfire tales of camaraderie, every damn night. Gimme a break. They’re name-dropping like it’s a competition, and I know that in this one thing, you’re likely drawing a blank just as I do. Humor me.” A deliberate pause. “A recruiter maybe?”
Greene continued to think, restoring some of my faith in humanity—until his face lit up. “Might not be the same guy but my dad knew a guy named Decker, an old friend of his from ‘Nam.” He chuckled. “Never lik
ed the guy, and he sure as hell didn’t like me. Called me a waste of genetic material on more than one occasion. Meant it, too.” His smile let everyone know he couldn’t have cared less, and that I believed. It also made a lot of sense why a civilian biotech company was involved in something that I was sure USAMRIID wouldn’t have let out of their grasp easily. Another piece of the puzzle falling into place.
I was already turning away, my mind still churning on so many levels, when Greene’s question made me pause. “Why?”
More static followed, as if on cue. I shot Nate a glance and only got a shrug back from him that could have meant anything. Right. Play it by ear.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I overly loudly called toward the screen. “You’re breaking up!” I then turned to Elle. “I think we got everything we need.”
“And more than you were asking for, it seems,” she surmised, then nodded at the guy manning the workstation below the single working monitor. “Cut the feed.” She then continued to talk to him—in French—so I turned away, which incidentally made me face the table. No surprise there when I found Hamilton smirking at me.
“Just had to keep digging, never knowing what’s good for you,” he jeered.
I told myself to drop it, to simply ignore him, but Greene’s recount of the propaganda scheme going on at home just made my blood boil.
“Why, afraid who might be listening in? I have to have the name from somewhere.”
Bucky seemed unperturbed, but I wasn’t buying it. I would have loved to discuss this further, but when I heard a deep, male voice clear itself behind me, I dropped the point, turning around.
Three men had joined Elle, only one of them taller than her. I bet he was in charge, his bright gray eyes trained on us now. With a full beard and shaggy, sandy blond hair in a bun at the back of his head, only a flannel shirt was missing to turn him into a hipster, but he certainly looked like he meant business—as did the tree-trunk thick muscles on his arms.
“I presume introductions are in order?” I guessed. “Since you mostly know who we are by now.”
He held out a hand to me, introducing himself. “I’m Alexandre Bernard.” I hesitated for just a moment, figuring that it was way too late to get self-conscious about my fingers now. His grip was strong yet not crushing, a quality handshake that immediately acknowledged me as his equal. He let go and nodded at the man to his left, who shared the strong build and hair color with him, yet had dark brown eyes and an easy smile rather than a stern expression fixed on his face. “This is my brother, Antoine. My XO, if you will. Elle, our chief of security, you have already met. And this is Raphael.” He nodded at the last man, who was more the Mediterranean type, and a little slighter and younger than the other two. I vaguely remembered him being one of those who’d observed our little strip-down affair before. “He is the head of our scouts and will likely know best how you can get to whatever destination you are headed to.”
I couldn’t quite place a finger on what about my talk with Greene had smoothed over my ruffled feathers, but I easily resisted the temptation to be a bitch to Bucky as I did our rounds of introductions, doing my very best to sound as neutral as Alexandre had. I could only guess what they were making of the obvious bickering that was going on between us, yet none of them gave a clue of it now. A momentary lull in the conversation made me wonder if it was too soon to ask about that, but I decided that not knowing wasn’t in my best interest, so I turned to Elle. “I presume it was Gabriel Greene who told you who I am?”
Her slight smile seemed to hold more knowledge than it had a right to. “He confirmed your identity, yes.”
I wondered if that was a translation error, but that sounded too cryptic to just let it slide. “But you already knew?”
Her smile grew. “Of course. You’re the woman from the video.” She paused. “You’re the one who saved millions of lives.”
Chapter 4
Before my talk with Greene, that statement alone would have made me want to gloat. Now, it made my skin itch all over. What was it with people telling tales about me?
“You saw the video?” I’d heard the same mentioned from a few people along the way, particularly in the very early days, but it had been a while. I hadn’t expected to hear the same on the other side of the Atlantic ocean.
“Of course,” Elle responded, seeming a little irritated at my obvious doubt. “We’d heard that communications were already breaking down on your continent by then, but we had another week of working internet and television, and a good two months before radio communication turned patchy.” She and Alexandre traded glances, and after a few seconds Elle resumed. “There were debates, of course. A lot calling you a raving lunatic. But then the virus started spreading in the cities, and more people listened than doubted. We were able to evacuate before it was too late and build and hold defenses over the summer. We lost a lot of good people, but we were able to save many more.”
“How many did you save?” I was surprised that Nate would speak up, but probably shouldn’t have been.
“A good twenty million,” Antoine responded, his voice a warm baritone to his brother’s more rumbling bass. “In France. That is a little less than one in three. All over Europe, particularly in the eastern countries, the numbers are closer to one in two point five. The winter was harsh and claimed more lives, but we persevered. Of the seven hundred million people, a good two hundred million are still alive.”
The answering silence was deafening, the lot of us stunned into silence until low murmurs began to break it. I couldn’t help but stare at them, hard-pressed to keep my mouth from gaping open. “How?”
Elle offered a slightly triumphant grin. “We did what we’ve been doing for centuries when faced with foes coming down on us in superior numbers: we went into the mountains. They are easy to defend, and we had time to build shelters and homes in the abandoned bunkers from the World Wars and mines to provide for everyone at first. By autumn, we had many mountain valleys reclaimed and secured, forcing us to only abandon the cities to the dead. We had to give up a lot of luxuries, but in parts we still have electricity and running water, at least until the power lines come down. The reason why you haven’t encountered more of us is because for the winter, everyone has withdrawn to the strongholds. Less active people consume less food.”
Her answer made me want to ask for details—so, so many details!—but I refrained, instead zeroing in on something else Greene had dropped. Turning to Gita, I gave her a blank stare that was enough to make her hunch her shoulders once more. “And what exactly is your part in all this?”
I could tell that her discomfort at getting all that attention wasn’t an act, but the heap of bullshit that Greene had so casually dumped on me—again—made me less than sympathetic for anyone else’s plight. Plus, he had pretty much told me—and thus, her—to spill the beans. Tanner inadvertently took a step closer to his charge, resembling the big, protective brother even more than usual, and I couldn’t help but feel a hint of disdain ghost through my mind when I realized that move made her relax. I raised my brows, urging her on to speak, and with a sigh, Gita did.
“I guess it’s common knowledge that the video was released by the group who we all think is responsible for this?” She didn’t pass up the chance to glance in Nate’s direction rather than mine, but he gave her nothing. None of the soldiers said anything.
Alexandre eventually inclined his head. “We have heard mention that you blame a group of, what did Gabriel Greene call them? Eco terrorists? For contaminating high fructose corn syrup with the virus and releasing it at strategic points all across your country.” I nodded. He looked as doubtful about the story as Hill had professed to be a few days back. That, more than anything else, made me wonder if I’d never doubted it myself simply because it sounded so convenient, and hit very close to home because of Nate’s involvement with that very same group—only that he hadn’t known about their motives. “We never found out what made the outbreak originate, but the t
heory most people believe is that, all across Europe, around a thousand sick people arrived and started spreading the infection.”
Elle waited for him to fall silent before she interjected. “There have been reports that infection exploded in a few larger cities so it’s possible that the contaminated goods had reached us as well, but there have been virtually no new infections from food registered in the past year. But to be sure, we have switched to consuming our own produce where possible in favor of preserved and processed food originating before the outbreak. We’ve had some issues with starvation at the end of winter, but over the summer we should have managed to upscale production to feed everyone well into spring this year.”
“Then you’re lucky,” I offered, incapable of keeping my mouth from twisting. “We have tons of contaminated food. A candy bar is all you need to turn yourself into a walking bomb.” I’d never forget Bailey biting that bullet to give the rest of us a fighting chance at the factory. Too late I realized that this could turn into a touchy subject, but Hamilton left it at a contemptuous snort. Like he wouldn’t set up a contingency plan like that. I was sure that if I dug into any of the packs of his people, I’d find similar precautions than we’d carried around for most of the year.
“Well, it’s true,” Gita pressed out, her level of unease rising. “And I know because I’ve, ah, kind of been one of them.”
I wasn’t the only one who tensed and went still, staring at her. That explained her unease all right.
“Well, isn’t that just wonderful?” Hamilton drawled, but didn’t make a move. I felt a tad torn between my knee-jerk protective reaction and being a little on guard, but his sneer decided it. I’d have given her the benefit of the doubt, anyway, but now more than ever.
“I’m sure there’s more to this,” I insisted, earning myself a belligerent look from Hamilton.
It wasn’t that much of a surprise that Nate was the one to try to defuse the situation, now that he’d found his voice. “We all make mistakes based on not enough or the wrong kind of information sometimes.”
Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 3 | Books 7-9 Page 77
