“You made it contagious.”
She stiffened immediately, almost making me laugh. So that got under her skin? Which also gave me the understanding of what must have happened—a mistake. But it made sense. “You didn’t plan it, did you? To make it work, you needed to make the virus unstable, and the consequence of it mutating was that it wasn’t inert anymore. That it could jump hosts and didn’t remain in the inoculated subject as it was.” Thinking along those lines, something else occurred to me. “That happened after Miller’s death, right? You and Andrada, you thought you could go on alone; that you didn’t need him. But any virologist worth his salt would have told you that using a virus as a vehicle to introduce anything into a host always hinges on making sure that host never gets infectious. He also would have warned you to test for that, but you didn’t. You just inoculated your test subjects, and because you weren’t completely inhumane, you let them all sit together in a cell block, not their individual cells—because that would have been cruel. You let them kill each other in little contests and death matches, and it was all good. Until, one day, something happened, and you realized that not only were they all infected, no—they’d infected their keepers as well. And because once you take away our moral compass, we still remain team players and all they needed to do was to fight long enough to establish a hierarchy, but not to the death. That’s why you shut down the lab and called for a state of emergency, right? Not because the lab went dark and you were alarmed; it was the other way around. You realized that it was a lost cause and the only way you could contain it was to slam the door shut and throw away the keys. Only that, somehow, the plan to end the world was already in motion, independent of the shit you are responsible for, and you inadvertently managed to still save thousands while watching helplessly as someone else killed billions.”
If Nate’s brother hadn’t died, none of that would have happened—or if they’d pulled me into the fold the very next day, dumped all their research in my lap, let me sort it all out in my head, and tell them what to look out for. As much as presenting the facts to Raynor had made me want to gloat, that realization brought me right back down to earth.
Yeah, it’s not every day that you realize you could have averted the zombie apocalypse.
And seeing that slight smirk on Raynor’s face made it plain that she knew that I’d come to that conclusion—and would very likely die never breathing a word of any of that to anyone.
“That’s a very interesting theory that you have there,” Raynor said, toning down her mirth but not quite managing to get rid of it. “I’d love to talk about that in-depth with you at a later time. But I’m afraid that you were right—it is getting late, and science talk requires clear heads and rested minds. If that is everything, Dr. Lewis…?”
All I did was nod. Raynor smiled again and turned the camera off, the connection terminating a second later.
I probably would have spent an hour or two staring sightlessly at the dark screen if not for Richards clearing his throat.
“Exactly what did I just witness?”
A very odd way of phrasing it, but aptly done so. Turning to him, I crossed my arms over my chest, forcing myself to both relax and let my mind stop running itself into a rut. “Pretty much me trying to be a know-it-all but mostly schooling myself. It’s a scientist thing. No need to worry your pretty head with such bluestocking matters.”
He cracked a smile but I didn’t miss the spark of interest that remained in his eyes. Good. If the world needed one thing, it was one more smart person who second-guessed the bullshit others tried to sell him.
“If you say so. Doctor.”
That made me snort as I turned toward the door. “Oh, shut up, LT. Go be useful and tell that tech and Sgt. Buehler that we’re done here. Or whatever else you still need to do with her, seeing as in a few hours from now, we’ll be off this ship and it’s anyone’s guess if you’ll ever see each other again. You should spend your time wisely. After all, Emily will be disappointed if you got rusty in the meantime.”
Richards had the gall to snort at my insinuations but, ever the gentleman, pulled the door open for me. Considering how heavy these damn things were, I didn’t mind not having to mangle my fingers just to leave a room.
“Does that ever work for you?” he asked just as I was about to step outside. “Throw people off track by pretending to be a lewd asshole?”
This time when I smiled at him, it was a real one. “More often than you’d think. People also tell me it’s entertaining as hell to watch.”
I left him to his devices, lewd or otherwise, and made my way back to the hangar, not quite sure whether I’d really burned a bridge or just tightened the noose around my neck. Hopefully, I’d never get a chance to find out.
Chapter 22
Our last meal together in the mess hall wasn’t exactly a somber affair—actually, it was about as far from that as possible—but my heart was heavy throughout it, laughing and smiling as I might have been the entire time. I didn’t even care that Hamilton called me Stumpy three times, but no one else did. The sailors now regarded the entire lot of us with pleasant weariness, about ready to be rid of us. We were just waiting for the snowstorm to die down enough that the boats could bring everyone who was leaving to the shore. Clearly, we hadn’t returned to the same base where we’d come aboard for the first time but I was sure someone had given some thought to that. Nate and I still hadn’t had time to plan what to do next, but that was likely a good thing—if we didn’t talk, no one could listen in, and just maybe, an opportunity would arise. Even I would recognize it once it bit me in the ass. Burns was back to his usual joking and Gita seemed to be slowly reconnecting with the world at large. It was weird to admit it, but the last weeks had done a thing or ten to fuse all of us into a group. It annoyed the hell out of me that the idea that I’d likely—hopefully—never see a single one of them ever again made me weirdly melancholic.
I was sure that Hamilton knew we had no intentions whatsoever to come with him to that base. Richards, too, if he wasn’t a complete imbecile, which he’d proven not to be. Gita pretended to be oblivious but Burns definitely knew, and that killed me. I didn’t say anything when he brought me a steaming mug of coffee after lunch, and he didn’t, either, but there was a silent world of understanding between us—and a lot of accusation as well. So what if he didn’t like us tucking our tails in and running—he wasn’t the one both sides might be gunning for.
As it was, I couldn’t miss said opportunity as it grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into a room I had no idea what its purpose was, in the form of one perky marine sergeant. Nate was already standing next to Buehler, regarding her with a mix of annoyance and anticipation.
“You’re probably asking yourselves what this is about,” she whispered to us, casting one last look outside before she shut the door.
“Not really,” I offered, making her blink furiously.
“We’re special that way,” Nate supplied, shifting his leg to take the weight off the one that wasn’t quite up to par yet.
“You sure are,” Buehler muttered. “I got a really weird message last night from one of my buddies at the Silo.” She paused. “He said he’s met you? Guy named Blake.”
I had to rack my brain for a little but decided that must have been the grumpy guard who’d become my not-so-silent shadow when I’d last been at the Silo, trying to find out what was going on with me with Dom and Sunny’s help. “Yup. What did he say?”
“It’s not what he said,” she offered. “Or rather, what he didn’t say. He was contacting us on behalf of Commander Wilkes. Apparently, he’s come to his senses that his Navy wusses won’t save the day and has extended an invitation to the people who actually can.” Her pause was a pointed one before she said to Nate, “No offense.”
He gave her a toothy yet real grin. “None taken. If that chest pounding makes you feel validated, please, by all means, continue.”
Great, another one of those “we are the b
estest warriors in the world!” pissing contest—as if I hadn’t had enough of that already on a daily basis.
“So Wilkes is rallying his best buddies,” I surmised, cutting through whatever this was they had going on. “Good news for the Silo. They were concerned about staying independent last year, and I can’t see how that’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not,” Buehler insisted, a little sore I’d interrupted her. “They’re keeping some Army liaisons but trying to, ever so slowly, build up their own ranks. Apparently, a lot of the scavengers that bugged down there are quite happy to follow someone who provides them with training, gear, shelter, and food, and doesn’t turn that into the next stage of a war of principles. The way Blake put it, they seem awfully tired of picking sides, so Wilkes is going for true neutral. But that’s not the interesting part, besides what we’ll be doing once we’re done with doing duty here, I expect.”
“And, pray tell, what is the interesting part?” I couldn’t tell if Nate was actually curious or just yanking her chain. Buehler seemed equally undecided but went with dropping her posturing completely.
“Nothing concrete, but he said that about the time we took you on, people started talking. And then they did more talking. Nothing official, and nobody can pinpoint the origin, but then people started disappearing. Not in a creepy, kidnappy way, but, you know. People with a purpose following said purpose, just elsewhere.”
“You mean like planted spies retreating to their home base?” I ventured a guess.
Her eyes narrowed at me. “So you do know what is going on.”
I shook my head. “Nope. But let’s say that some people here”—I glared at Nate—“have a past that’s started to catch up with them. We’d greatly prefer not to be caught up with, to put it mildly.”
“Right.” Buehler scratched her head, looking from one of us to the other. “The thing is, also last night the captain mentioned that we have some extra space near the cargo compartments since we’ve used up so many of our provisions, and one of these days we should repurpose them.” She let that hang for a second, barely waiting for Nate to nod that he’d gotten her meaning. Ideal for storing human cargo, at least for a while. “We start unloading in ten minutes. If you get into those crawl spaces right now, nobody will realize you’re missing until everyone’s off the ship and on the shore, maybe not even then. I’ve already sent one of my guys to make sure that whatever remains behind of your personal belongings mysteriously disappears to make it look like you packed everything up. Downside is, you can’t say goodbye to your friends.”
And, right there it was—the moment I knew I would one day point back at and say, yup, that started all the shit that came after, but no way I could have done anything different.
Nate seemed to agree, as he said, without checking in with me, “Where’s that crawl space?”
Buehler looked a little disappointed but mostly because that ended our wonderful conversation as well. “Right behind you there’s a loose panel. Twenty yards toward the stern you’ll find a larger space where you can sit more easily. I’ll fetch you once we’ve made sure we don’t have any other stowaways and there’s no chance anyone from the coast can still get to you.” She paused. “Do you need a light? It’s pretty dark in there, we only have a few vents high up near the ceilings.”
“Not our first rodeo in tight, confined spaces,” I snarked, pausing to offer her my hand. She shook it, as before not minding that it was lacking two fingers. Nate left it at a nod. Buehler waited until we’d crawled through the panel into the—comparatively wide—space behind before she turned off the lights and closed the door, the locks engaging giving me somewhat the creeps. Nothing I could do about that.
I followed Nate as he crawled the way Buehler had indicated, barely able to make out anything even after my eyes got accustomed to the darkness. We still found the larger compartment as it was hard to miss with one wall dropping away for several feet of distance, and while not roomy enough for either of us to get up, it wasn’t so bad sitting side by side.
“So, this is it,” I said, lightly tapping on my thigh to bleed off some nervous energy. “Think anyone will actually look for us?”
Nate shook his head. “I doubt it. Hamilton will be happy to be rid of us. Richards has the samples and your notes—”
“And I got to talk to Raynor,” I supplied. He looked surprised but didn’t question my statement further. “Burns will hate our guts, and I’m not sure Gita will get over two more people she cares about abandoning her.”
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.”
Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 3 | Books 7-9 Page 103
