Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 4 | Books 10-12

by Lecter, Adrienne

  The hard set of Nate’s jaw made it obvious that he was having none of that. “I’m not leaving you behind to die.” His voice was husky and pressed, almost as if he was the one hanging there.

  Andrej gave a short bark of laughter, quickly drowned out by a cough that seemed to wrack his entire body—and got more blood spurting over his front and down his back onto Sadie, who gave a low whimper when she felt it dribble over her head and down her neck.

  “You will,” Andrej pressed out. “It’s the only way to save the girl. And it will spare you having to put me down later. Not worth it. Get her out and leave me.” He even went as far as to show a bloody grin, a few of his teeth missing. “I always wanted to go out with a hell of a bang. Looks like I’m getting my last wish.”

  Nate looked ready to protest while he continued to fiddle with the contraption, but it was Sadie speaking up that made him pause. “He’s right,” she more sobbed than said, her voice barely regaining strength as she went on. “They tortured and beat him before they strung him up. I think his spine’s severed. They only stopped when they realized he was about to die and convert on their traitorous asses. They leashed me to him so he’d try to keep himself alive for as long as possible as they knew he wouldn’t want to go for me first.”

  Her words made it hard for me to suppress a shudder, but on a logical level, it made sense. That didn’t take away from the horror gripping me at the very idea.

  “’Tis true,” Andrej muttered. “Get her out. That’s all that counts now.” Sadie’s quiet sobbing made his words sound all the more final—and right. We could still save her, provided we got the C4 harness off her before it blew up. If we had to drag Andrej out, that would take time—time that we didn’t have once the detonators were active.

  Nate still spent another five minutes checking and rechecking the contraption before he turned to me, defeat making him look twice as angry as before. “Get me a body that weighs about as much as Sadie with some extra for the C4.”

  There were several women among the dead settlers, but I ended up dragging one of the female scavengers over to them that had defended the cantina. Somehow, manhandling a stranger felt easier than someone Sadie might have known. Nate and Burns spent another endless minute discussing the cables running all over Sadie’s burden before they started cutting wires. I felt like wincing each and every time, but they were too fast and meticulous for that, and besides, I was busy shoving the dead body in my arms at Hill. The belts came next. Nate did that himself, while Burns got ready to stand in front of Andrej, grabbing the top of his shoulders to keep him weighed down as soon as Sadie was free. Just like them to share a few idiotic jokes that grated on my very soul.

  As soon as the last belt gave, Nate pushed Sadie away from Andrej, but only a step, immediately holding her back, her feet still on the pressure plate. There were more wires previously hidden between their bodies. Rushing forward, I grabbed Sadie and pushed myself flush against her, both so I could keep her upright and maybe lend what little comfort I could give her. Her cheek sagged down on my shoulder, her sobs almost inaudible next to my ear. Over her slightly slumped body, I could see some of what Nate and Hamilton were doing, but the view of Andrej’s back was too distracting. It looked like they’d really gone to town on him, beating him literally to within an inch of his life. That he was still holding on was as much testament to the serum as to how much of a tenacious bastard he was.

  Finally, the last wire was snapped and Nate nudged Sadie and me away so that Hill could drop the dead scavenger on the pressure plate as soon as Sadie was off it. Nate checked that Hamilton knew what he was doing as he used some rope to tie the corpse to Andrej before he went to town on Sadie’s harness. By then, she felt like little more than a human-sized rag doll between us, not resisting as we kept pushing her back and forth between us so Nate could cut her free. I almost expected another surprise when he finally lifted the harness away—like that they’d punctured her with some wires, too, or some shit—but the heavy, stained contraption came away without a hitch.

  Nate then gave me the signal to go, but I suddenly felt frozen in my tracks. Sure, my mind was screaming to run, to get away from the horror and the spreading flames and the explosives, but this was Andrej we were talking about. He’d been the one who first showed me how to handle and maintain a gun. He’d shown me how to skin a deer, and a million other handy things required to make it in this world. He’d always had a smile and an easy joke for me, even after standing by with a stony expression when Nate chewed me out—or us both, on a few occasions. I’d never shared quite as much personal shit with him as I had with Martinez or Burns, but just like them, he was one of my closest friends; an older brother in everything but blood. The very idea of turning my back on him now was unbearable.

  As if he’d picked up on my internal conflict, he raised his head and turned it as much toward me as it would go, giving me another grisly smile. “You did good, girl,” he grated out in Serbian. “Do one last favor for me?” I nodded, feeling tears start to tickle at the back of my eyes. “Tell Zilinsky—” He paused, then started anew. “Tell Pia that I’m waiting in hell for her with a bottle of vodka and some blinis.” I wondered if he was even still lucid, raving about pancakes of all things, but then he added, “She’ll get it. Now go.”

  I still didn’t want to, but when I felt Sonia push partly between me and Sadie so she could take some of her weight and help, I nodded and did my best to smile at my friend one last time—and then we hightailed it out of there as quickly as two women could drag a third who got increasingly harder to carry since all strength seemed to have left her, being able to do little more than stumble between us. I only realized how hot it had gotten inside the building when the cool night air felt freezing on my sweaty face. As soon as they saw us coming, the marines guarding the perimeter in this sector quickly stepped aside to let us hasten toward the docks. As soon as we passed by them, Sonia and I both stopped and pivoted, looking back with shared anxiety. Sadie sagged against me but seemed loath to let go, which was fine with me. From the outside, it looked like the entire roof was already engulfed in flames, turning the two figures escaping through the same door as us into black silhouettes. Hamilton and Hill were both running, joining us in record time.

  And then we waited, and waited, and I was about ready to scream with frustration and helplessness when, finally, Burns and Nate came hurtling through the door, neither man looking back.

  Not a second too early did they clear the frame of the building when an explosion inside went off, the shockwave hitting both men hard from behind and throwing both forward onto the ground. Even further back, it forced me to take a step back as I tried to shield myself and Sadie against the debris pelting us. Every fiber of my being screamed to let go of her and run to check on Nate, but he and Burns were already stirring, two scavengers quick to run over to them, slap out what little flames had caught on their gear, and pull them farther to safety. The roof of the building—where it was still standing—was about to cave in with terrible cracking sounds, two of the walls folding as well.

  Checking on Sadie, I found her still staring into the burning ruin, tears streaming down her face. Her lips were moving silently but she didn’t seem aware that she was mumbling something under her breath. Once the ringing in my ears from the boom subsided, I could hear her utter a single word over and over—“Chris.” It could have been her lover’s name, but I was terrified that it was her daughter’s.

  Turning around—more to distract myself than in search of anything—my eyes fell on a single, tall figure emerging from the shadows from farther down the dock. My eyes went wide when I recognized Pia, swathed in a dark blanket weirdly bundled across her left shoulder. Her eyes were trained not on us but on the flames, and low in my gut I had the sense that she knew her oldest, closest friend had just been blown to bloody pieces. It was only when she had almost reached me that I realized why the blanket looked so weird: rather than carrying her gear—and from what I
could tell, she didn’t even have a gun on her—it was a child she was holding in her arms, using the blanket to shield them both from whatever shrapnel of still-burning ash was whipping around us all. She looked haggard and drawn, one eye and the jaw on that side of her face dark with bruises and swollen, but still alive.

  I must have tensed, or accidentally let go of Sadie, because she turned next to me, and let out a wail when she saw Pia. The Ice Queen noticed her, if only for a second, her motions mechanical as she pushed the bundle from her arms into Sadie’s. She visibly shook herself out of her stupor for a moment, quickly assuring herself that both mother and daughter were safe in being reunited before she looked back at the flames, coming to a rocky halt next to me.

  My mind was burning with questions, but I wasn’t stupid enough to pelt her with them right now. Glancing at Nate, I found both him and Burns sitting in the dirt, still a little stunned from the blast, but looking physically mostly okay. Martinez had materialized from a different part of the perimeter, crouching beside them, checking on a few wounds they must have sustained, either from the blast or before. The guards at the cantina seemed to have been the last, everyone else dead in the streets, with only us still standing. Blake had taken over coordinating a quick search to make sure there were no other hideouts since he still had a working radio.

  “He knew that he wouldn’t be making it much longer.” At Pia’s grating remark, I turned to her, but she was still staring into the flames. She must have noticed my motion because she resumed as if I’d asked her what she meant. “Romanoff. The day after you went off to Dallas, he told me. He could feel it coming, his end. Like a winter storm, he said. Raging on and on until you get lost in the endless whiteout. He said he wanted to visit the town one last time because he’d promised the girl he would be back. He’d known it was a lie when we left for the camp, but since he was still standing, he felt he at least needed to try.” She paused, her face still an expressionless mask, but there was a world of pain burning in her eyes when they finally shifted and fell on me. “It was my fault. I had a bad feeling but I chalked it up to paranoia, because of Marleen. I led us straight into an ambush. Too late I realized there was something fucked up about most of them. They killed two of my guys but dragged the rest back to the town. I wanted to take as many of them out as I could, but they threw us into one of the houses where they had rounded up more hostages, and I saw that one of the women there had Christine with her.” Pia paused for a moment, again glancing over to where Sadie was gently cooing to her dazed child. “She’d been watching the children sleep when they took over, and knew they’d likely use the kid as ammunition against us, so she said she was hers instead. Romanoff told me to stop being stupid, grab the kid, and hide with her. And that’s what I did, while they rounded up everyone else and executed them.”

  While her voice held no emotion, I could tell how much abandoning so many people she’d sworn to protect hurt her, but I agreed with Andrej’s choice. Shit would have been so much worse if she hadn’t gotten Chris out of there. Just the thought of what they likely would have done to her—and Sadie, since she was no longer the softest chip in the game—made new rage want to flare up inside of me. Staring at Sadie, I couldn’t help but feel a smidgen of relief that both of them had gotten away, although it stood to reason that abject terror wasn’t the only thing that had left marks on Sadie herself. Pia must have read my thoughts clear off my expression as she gave me a small nudge. “Go check on Miller. I’ll talk to Sadie.” She paused, then added, surprisingly emphatic, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  It took me a few seconds to realize she must be referring to my previous brush with death in the form of a knife in the back. That lag alone told me that I wasn’t really processing what was going on, but I was sure that would change eventually. It was a clear dismissal if I’d ever heard one, but rather than follow Pia’s order, I hugged her, if only long enough to feel her tense rather than relax. Stepping back, I tried my best at a smile. “Romanoff told me to tell you that he’ll be waiting in hell with a bottle of vodka and some blinis.”

  She stared at me as if I’d gone insane—rightly so, I had to admit—before, out of nowhere, a wistful but surprisingly gentle smile crossed the Ice Queen’s face. She squeezed my shoulder, as if in thanks. “My children always wanted blinis for breakfast on the weekend,” she explained, her voice so soft it was hard to understand. “I was an abysmal cook. I always burned them. But they loved them.”

  She turned back to staring at the flames, and since I didn’t feel up for any kind of debate concerning the afterlife or whatnot, I trudged over to where Nate was about ready to shove Martinez off if he dared come close to him again. I quickly relayed the news—that Sadie and Chris were both safe, and Pia had hidden with the girl—but all Nate did was give me the curtest of nods, looking over to the people in question to visually reassure himself that it was true before he strode over to Blake, leaving me standing there.

  I chanced a glance at Martinez and Burns, both staring after Nate with the same kind of concern that I felt burning deep inside my chest.

  Sonia appeared on Burns’s other side but he brushed her off, careful not to ruffle her feathers but insisting that he did not need to be doted on. He looked back to me. “Let’s make sure that none of these assholes are left standing. Then we torch the dead, and if there’s still anything left of this town when we’re done, we need to toast that rat bastard with some vodka. I’m sure he had some left in his house. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  It wasn’t like there was anything else we could have done, and that grated on my very soul—and I was sure I wasn’t alone with that.

  Chapter 8

  By the time the sun came up, I felt like my arms weighed a ton, but I was afraid to give my body the rest it was screaming for—mostly because I didn’t want to leave the state of numbness that my mind had disappeared into. There was still much to do, but for now, the pressing matters were taken care of. The fire had been contained to the cantina building where a few scavengers were waiting for it to be out for good, all the wood of the building finally consumed. We’d messed up with the patrols, a lot of the affected scavenger drones reanimating shortly after the cantina had blown up. That—and cleaning the houses down to their crawlspaces of the previously killed and turned shamblers—kept us busy until the early hours of the morning. Pia and Sonia rallied the survivors, both knowing a few extra hidey-holes than I would never have considered looking into. Altogether, seventy-eight people had survived, including our vanguard. It was hard to calculate the numbers of the dead since several people reported sending their kids with shepherds into the surrounding land, and it would likely take days to round all of them up. Seven of our own were dead, including Andrej. There was also the matter of the other settlements, but from what we could piece together of how the insurgents had taken over the town, it stood to reason that most people there were okay and the saboteurs had simply taken out their radio systems to ensure we couldn’t call for aid. Blake himself offered to drive to the closest town, a few hours to the north, and report back in once he found out what had been going on there. That call arrived at 9:38 a.m. and was the first bit of good news—the town was safe, only missing two people who Pia later identified among the dead scavengers we submitted to the flames.

  Just like Marleen, the moles in our town must have been embedded for months, if not from the very start. It was hard to tell since their first move—after letting reinforcements in through the gate and docks in the middle of the night—was to round up all the scavengers who had already received the faulty serum and shoot them up with the mind-control shit that turned them into moderately useful drones. Whether it was the same shit Hamilton had shot Nate up with back in the Canada base I didn’t know, and the man in question avoided answering the question like the plague. He generally kept himself in the background, but since that entailed dragging the dead to the pyres to be identified, stripped of anything useful, and then flung into the flam
es, I couldn’t exactly hold that against him. Not a single of the confirmed insurgents had ever been part of the serum project, as far as we could tell, but that didn’t help much. There was a pervasive sense of frustration and grief in the air even though we had saved more people than I had dared to hope at first, but that still meant that two-thirds of the residents of the town were dead, their home mostly destroyed. News of how Andrej had died spread like wildfire, and while not everyone left standing had been friends with him, he’d been one of the cornerstones of the town.

  The only definite thing about the insurgents we could say was that the group that had dragged in our vanguard must have been strangers, else Pia could never have escaped with Christine. I could tell that she remained the only one blaming herself for not having saved more people, but the fact that their infallible chief of security had been forced to duck away and hide made everyone even more jumpy. The only thing I could think of that would have made it worse was if Sadie had died as well, but in the face of the gargantuan loss everyone had suffered, that was a small cause for happiness for most.

  There was no question about the future of the town. Theoretically, it could have been rebuilt, but with a lot of the important buildings gone and so many bad memories everywhere, it was easier to pack up what could be reused and start anew elsewhere. I wasn’t surprised when, just after noon, a fleet of fishing boats drew near the destroyed docks, bringing food for a few days and an invitation to relocate down to New Angeles—for now, or as long as people wanted. My paranoia immediately reared its ugly head—split between the possibilities that Gabriel Greene was profiting from the influx of capable people, and questioning whether the boats actually hailed from New Angeles—but considering my recent talk with Greene, I doubted that his reasoning was of the nefarious kind. I hated that after what felt like years of living in the spirit of people helping people being the only way we would all make it in this world, even neighbors now looked with suspicion at each other. Using our car radios and what felt like a million code phrases, Pia eventually verified that the ship convoy had been sent by Greene himself, and the offer was genuine—and yes, he was aware that, like us, he likely had a bunch of spies ready to pull the trigger on him again. I didn’t relay the conclusions I’d drawn after Amos had told us about how the New Angeles docks had been destroyed two years ago, but since that wasn’t my concern now, I felt that wasn’t necessary.