I nodded. Did I ever. I was sure that Buehler had no fucking clue about the details of my friendship with Pia, but I was one hundred percent certain that if she hadn’t followed me and told me the story about her children back at the Silo after my miscarriage and subsequent recovery, I doubted I’d have been able to get through all the shit that I’d had to deal with since then. It maybe sounded stupid, but realizing that the Ice Queen, of all people—my nickname for her long since having turned into an honorific—had once started from scratch, with even worse odds against her than I’d been facing when the zombie apocalypse had happened, had made me question my conviction that the only way I could move on was to let myself become hard, cold, and deadly. Ninety-nine percent of what she’d taught me had been about survival and proficiency in all aspects of war, but it was that one remaining percent of humanity that was responsible for me standing here today. And it was about time that I’d make sure to repay her for that. Or maybe not; suddenly, it made a lot of sense why she’d—pretending to be annoyed by it—asked Burns and Sonia to hitch a ride with her. If there was someone who could get that job done, now that Andrej wasn’t around anymore, it was Burns. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t at least give it a try.
“Looks like you’ve overstayed your welcome here,” Buehler remarked wryly at something that must have been going on at my back. Half-turning, I found Nate waiting, obviously annoyed, next to the Rover, with Hamilton looking about to volunteer to come get me and drag me, kicking and screaming, to the cars. When I glanced back to her, she gave me another brief smile. “As promised, I will do as you asked of me. Gladly. In turn, why don’t you make sure we won’t need to nuke anything? As if zombies weren’t bad enough as it is. If we need to add radioactivity to the decontamination mix now, those of us who’ve so far survived will die of bleach intoxication.”
“I’ll give it my best,” I promised.
“Wouldn’t have expected any less of you,” she offered, ready to turn away, but then pausing once more. “If you find Richards, and it turns out we’re both right—tell him to get his ass over to the Silo if command doesn’t agree with us. We can always do with some able-bodied, bright-minded young men. Like those three scoundrels you left with us. They’ve come quite a long way, Blake recently mentioned. Your fault for not keeping them for yourselves.”
I grinned, and didn’t do a thing to tarnish my own reputation by letting her know I hadn’t wanted the three idiots along for the ride because I didn’t fully trust them. We had gotten off on the wrong foot, true, but reading people wasn’t necessarily my strong suit.
With a final nod of thanks, I left to join Nate, ready to get this show on the road.
We were pretty much ready to roll, everything stowed away and checked over twice, when I saw Martinez halt next to his car, seemingly hesitating to get in. Suddenly done thinking about missed chances and where we’d all gone wrong, I changed course and stalked over to him. He saw me coming, first offering a smile, then frowning when he realized I was about to put my war face on. “What’s with the—” he started, and that was about as far as he got.
“Are you fucking insane? I’m not letting you go just like this,” I bit out, underlining my words by poking him in the chest. “After this shitstorm has blown over, that’s what you said, right? That’s not going to cut it. Have you learned nothing from our combined idiocy? Just look at Sadie, who never got a chance to tell Bates that he was going to be a father. Or my damn husband who would have let me die without ever telling me that I am the one for him, and he had to fucking ask me to be his wife after I crawled up from my deathbed! Man up, you fucking coward!”
I didn’t know what exactly had set me on the roll I was on, but after a few concerned moments, Martinez relaxed and let me prattle on. When I finally shut up, he offered me a tight grin. “Are you done?”
“Depends on whether the message hit home or not,” I quipped back. “You still have, I don’t know…” I glanced at where Nate was glaring at me, as usual annoyed by my antics. “Five minutes or so? Go make the most out of them.”
I knew something was up when Martinez continued to grin at me. “Are you done making an ass of yourself?”
It took me a moment to decipher that. “You… popped the question already?”
He gave me a tight—and rather self-satisfied—nod. “Two days ago, actually. After all the carnage, and your dear husband carried you off so you could do whatever ungodly things you two do to each other, Charlie and I got talking because I remarked how fucking romantic that gesture was.” He paused, smirking. “Because it wasn’t. Don’t lie to yourself, chica. Anyway, I joked around about what would come next, seeing as there was always something next coming to massively complicate our lives, and I was kind of sick of it. And he said, well, that is life, whether we like it or not. I admit, I was a little drunk, but that sounded like some really deep shit to me, very profound. I thought some more about it, and asked myself, what am I waiting for? That either of us dies before we get to the good parts? That we survive but virtually all of my friends die? Right that very moment, it was as good as it was going to get, because I was there and he was there, and then I said, fuck it. There is one single thing in my life that I would regret not having done if I did end up dying the next day, and I was not going to let the idiotic wait for the perfect moment take that away from me. So, there you have it.”
I stared at him for several seconds straight, then echoed what was, without a doubt, the important part. “Two days ago? And you’re only just telling me this now?”
Martinez let out a guffaw, but it had a good-natured tone to it. “I’m under absolutely no obligation to share every single thing with you that happens in my life.”
“Yeah, but… two days?!” I was sure people were starting to get interested in our conversation, but I couldn’t let this slide. “Who else have you not told? Does Burns know?” Because if there was one man in the world who’d be pissed at him for not having been in the know, it was Burns. Well, and me, but this once I kind of understood how this might have been a bro code thing—and I had been a little unapproachable of late, too busy with my own concerns.
Martinez shook his head, cracking a smile. “You, right now, are actually the first person I’m telling. And I’m only doing this because I know you’re five seconds away from making a scene, and it’s probably easier to get this over with while we’re still inside the gate, not out there getting chewed up by the undead.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I was hard-pressed not to complain that I would do no such thing, but I knew it would have been a lie. “So is this just a proposal, or did you guys decide to take a page out of our playbook and go all the way, vows and ceremonies and all that be damned?”
Martinez shrugged—and I could tell that he was just a little nervous now. “If you ask me, I don’t need a document or a blessing from some idiot who got ordained five minutes earlier by the power of what used to be the internet. I know Charlie wants a bit more of some kind of official thing. We both agreed that now was not the time for that, with everyone’s nerves frazzled, too many people mad with grief, and the entire valley stinking of zombie guts. So, provided I don’t bite it in the next few weeks, I’ll come back, and then we’ll make it official. This way, I got what I wanted and he gets his wish, too. And I’d much appreciate it if you didn’t shriek now and started a mad hunt for some empty cans that you can use to deface my car, which makes no sense whatsoever since he’s staying here while I’m leaving in it, but it’s absolutely some fucked-up shit you would do.”
He wasn’t wrong with either accusation, but I did my best to keep a lid on the enthusiasm bubbling up inside of me. “Do I get to hug you, at least? You owe me that since you’re already robbing me of being your maid of honor.”
“You would so not have been my maid of honor,” he said, slightly incredulous. “Honestly, I have no clue what part in my wedding you could have played. They don’t normally have court jesters, right?”
“Har, har. Very funny,” I grumbled—and went to steal that hug anyway. He hugged me right back, and I was surprised to realize that there was a lump in my throat. No way I was starting to bawl like the mother of the bride now, but at least I had a few moments to compose myself. “I’m so happy for you both,” I whispered close to his shoulder.
“Me, too,” he snarked back, pushing me away with maybe a tad too much emphasis. “Now go. I didn’t spend an entire winter restoring that car only so you’d continue to ignore it.”
“Sure thing,” I quipped as I turned around, marching over to my Rover—and in passing hollered at Burns, “You know that Martinez got hitched without breathing a word to us because he was afraid we’d mortally embarrass him and do all kinds of weird shit?” I saw his eyes go wide before Burns whipped around and glared at Martinez, while Sonia started to laugh her ass off—and for once didn’t glare daggers at me.
Martinez was less amused. “Lewis, you fucking cunt!” he called after me, somewhat amused but still angry.
I blew him a kiss and skipped the remaining way to the Rover, stroking a quick line along the side of the car before pulling myself up into the driver’s side. And damn, it was neat to have a car again that was high enough that I could roll out of it and end up in a defensive crouch, without first needing to heave myself up. Nate looked somewhat bemused, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of my antics—but what else was new.
“I think we should be going now,” I tartly told him. “Possible roadblocks or not ahead, it only makes sense to be quiet while we’re out there as not to draw any unwanted attention. He can’t really be quiet and scream at me, right?”
Nate shook his head but spared himself a verbal response. I started the car as he gave the gate guards the signal that we were ready to leave. I felt the car come alive underneath me, and while it made sense that the electric motor only gave a low hum, I really missed that familiar purring that my old Rover had come with. It didn’t matter, though. Those were all just details.
I waited for Nate to sign in on the radio, but of course, he didn’t. “Where to?” I asked as I started easing the car out of the settlement, needing a few moments to reacquaint myself with it—or so it felt. All changes aside, it really did feel like my Rover.
“I-80 into Wyoming,” he ordered. “I think you know where to turn from there.”
Was I a little surprised that he didn’t follow Rita’s advice to take a slightly more southern route? Not at all. But I hadn’t expected that he wanted to swing by the bunker once more before we hit Dispatch. Then again, with his talk of aces up his sleeve, he had likely been referring to triggering literal contingency plans, not just something obscure like the joint power of our willingness to sacrifice ourselves.
I had a feeling I’d soon find out.
Chapter 17
We left the settlement—and soon the state of Utah altogether—without really saying goodbye to anyone. It stood to reason that, if we survived, we’d still have time to drop by once more and get that over with—and if not, that was fine by me. I knew it was superstitious nonsense, but deep in my gut I always felt like I was jinxing my chance to return if I didn’t just up and leave. Look what had happened to us with the bunker.
And no, it wasn’t coincidence that I was thinking about that, since that was exactly where we were headed next.
“We’re trusting them—whoever they are—that there’s nothing lurking out there that we’re driving straight into?” I asked about thirty minutes in, more blasting than cruising down the highway.
“Since they managed to stage the undead streak right outside of the settlement, I’m sure they have posted lookouts around here, too,” Nate observed while idly looking over the landscape speeding by us. “The route Rita suggested is the most likely one for us to take, but this one isn’t that far off, either. Since we have no idea how the situation is in Colorado, it makes more sense to swing north into Wyoming in the first place. Then again, I’d be surprised if our departure remained a secret for longer than it took for the first three cars to rumble outside, so it doesn’t really matter. So, yes. For now, I say we trust them, and give them all the chances in the world to fuck up.”
The first few miles from Wanship toward Echo had been slow going, too many wrecks on the road to do more than clear a path in the middle, but a short time later, I got my first chance to see just what the new Rover was capable of. It was just us and the road, no shamblers in sight with the late morning sun blasting down on us. The next car—Hamilton in the Humvee—was over a mile behind us. It was one thing to “trust” the message Rita had passed on to us, but quite another to be stupid enough to traipse into any possible traps that were waiting for us before the obvious one. All the transponders in the cars had been deactivated to make sure we would be moving in the black. We still had our coms but those were switched off right now as well, making it very easy to pretend that it was just me, Nate, the car, and no care for anything in the world.
“I find it disconcerting just how content you are to have that damn car back,” Nate remarked a while later. “You weren’t that ecstatic to have me back.”
The note of anger in his voice made me grin. “Oh, come on. I was high as a kite back then. And, as I remember, you were more important to me than food at the time.”
“Since you don’t get hungry, that’s not a feat,” he grumbled. When I just kept on grinning without taking his bait, he grunted, glaring at me. “You’re practically purring with contentment!”
“That’s the engine, my dear,” I teased.
“Just how much can I even trust you, huh?” Nate continued with his griping. “All it would take for anyone to turn you against me is to offer you an unlimited supply of cars to crash, and I’d be history.”
I gave that some thought. “Just how unlimited are we talking here? And I have only destroyed half the vehicles I’ve used since the apocalypse started. Our buggies must still be sitting right where we left them at their charging station, and the harpies are quite happy with our previous ride. Wanna know what this is about, besides you loving to hear yourself complain about me? You’re just jealous because I’m driving, and it’s officially my car, and you have no claim to this throne whatsoever.”
Nate continued to glare at me through slitted eyes. “I’m running this show. It stands to reason that any car I choose is mine.”
“Yeah, but this one has my name right here on the driver’s side, so you’re obviously wrong.”
Silence fell, making me wonder what he was musing about—likely how to usurp my position somehow—but when I looked at him again, he was smiling. “I’ve missed this the most, you know?” he said, a lot softer than before. “I know it’s a false sense of security, and I’m not falling for it. But being out here, on the road, with you thinking you’re a good driver—”
“I am,” I insisted.
Nate ignored me. “Those were the best days of my life, I think. After we left the bunker, and before shit went sideways at the factory.”
I was a little surprised that he didn’t extend that window to the winter before, but, looking back, I could tell that he’d spent the time at the bunker pacing up and down like a tiger locked in a cage at the zoo. He had been much more at ease once we’d set out to Sioux Falls, and even the shit with Bates and that damn town with the lab in Kansas had only thrown him for so much of a loop. Maybe if we’d all lied about identities… but I knew this was wishful thinking. It wasn’t like we’d had much of a choice in the first place.
Nearing the border to Wyoming at Evanston, I slowed down, hoping that we would be able to stay on the highway through town if we didn’t attract much attention. That turned out not to be a problem since the town looked completely empty. A few miles east, I turned north, leaving the highway for US-189 where it went north, then northeast after switching to WY-28 toward Riverton. I didn’t mind so much that Nate remained lost in thought while idly checking the horizon for anything that might require our immediate atten
tion. There were no good places to stop out here, not even much shade to park the car underneath to let the engine cool off a little, so I just kept on driving. The Humvee caught up to and even overtook us a few times before falling behind once more to let the next car do the same, thus making sure that our spread-out convoy was still all accounted for. One or two cars, driving at intervals up to ten minutes apart, didn’t exactly leave much of a dust plume to track, and right now, this was working well.
Once we got close to Riverton, I couldn’t help but look around with a little more interest, trying to pick out familiar landmarks. We hadn’t ventured farther south than the imaginary line between Riverton and Casper, where our territory had about ended. The landscape didn’t look much different from when we’d arrived here years ago, everything flat and dry and dusty. After looping around Riverton and as we turned north toward our destination, I couldn’t help but feel a familiar ache start up in my chest. We may have given up on it willingly, but this had been our home for a while, and I couldn’t help but feel like it had been the only real home for me since the outbreak. Nate didn’t comment on my change in mood but I was sure he was aware of it.
One thing that had changed were the guard towers and sign posts—forward positions of the core territory of the Wyoming Collective. I found it a little eerie to drive past what should have been manned checkpoints but looked deserted now. Was Decker’s influence really reaching that far? Or had Rita herself pulled strings? No way to tell now, and with no people in sight who we could ask, I doubted we’d find out.
Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 4 | Books 10-12 Page 99