Resurgence: Green Fields book 5

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Resurgence: Green Fields book 5 Page 39

by Adrienne Lecter


  “Traders. Shit, you saw the state I was in. No trader that I’ve ever met could get through what I had to pull off, and that was just the twenty hours before I got here. I’m not even talking about the week I had before that. Where did you think the bruises on my body came from? You don’t get deep tissue trauma from hitting your arm on a doorjamb. I’m sorry that I lied to you, but I had to. They would have likely killed me on sight if they’d realized who I am, or worse yet, not done it properly. Just… I can’t explain it all to you. Trust me. Come with me. I don’t have the time or resources to help everyone, but I can help you. But you need to let me, right now.”

  From the very moment that I confirmed that I had been lying to her, I could see that I was losing her, but I just had to try. Her eyes went wide when she realized just how blind she’d been, and she started shaking her head by the time I tried to persuade her again. I knew then that it was useless. That I was fighting a battle that I’d already lost—likely years ago.

  “I don’t believe… how could you?” she said, way too loud, making several of the women perk up. Over Sam’s shoulder I met Mary’s gaze, and I knew that moment that I was busted. I expected her to start shouting for someone to take me down—knowing who I was was one thing, but inciting rebellion quite another—but she just held my gaze, a hard twist coming to her mouth. Was that disapproval on her face?

  I tried to ignore her and turned back to Sam. “Please. Yes, I lied to you. I’m sorry. You can spend the next days berating me. If you want me to, I can try to explain. Later. Just, for once in your life, don’t be such a cunt and do the smart thing and cut this passive-aggressive crap.” Not the wisest thing to say, but maybe this way I would get through to her.

  Rage made her eyes widen, but rather than continue to argue with me, her head snapped to the side and she glared across the village square at Nate. He’d ditched that abominable hat and the sunglasses, carrying them both in his hand, his shaggy hair making him look even more like Raleigh than usual. I couldn’t help but look around me, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for Kat to come out running, screaming bloody murder at him.

  “That’s your husband?” Sam said, her voice oddly toneless. Doubt and worry replaced the anger on her features, and when she turned back to me it was she who was pleading with me. “Listen, I don’t know what he told you, but he’s not the guy you think he is!”

  Irritation raced up my spine when I realized that she must have recognized him, but it was nothing more than one more rehash of a story that had long since lost anything that could still hurt me.

  “I know exactly who he is—“

  “No, you don’t!” Sam protested. “I saw him, several times. At my therapist’s office.”

  The very notion that he had been seeing a therapist was laughable, but I had a much better idea why he’d been there—to “accidentally” bump into my girlfriend and somehow weasel some details about me out of her that he could then use against me. Or at the very least to get under my skin quicker. He’d likely broken into the therapist’s files and had had quite some fun reading through pages of Sam complaining that I’d been dismissive of her feelings and that a whole slew of things that I repressed had been the foundation of all our issues, likely translating into a simple “needs to get laid” to him. Come to think of it, next time I felt like getting in his face that might make for some great ammunition. But none of that mattered now.

  “There’s a very simple explanation for this—“ I tried to offer, but Sam shook her head vehemently.

  “Not as a patient, I think. He never checked in with her assistant, and he always showed up after all other patients had left.”

  A detail Nate had mentioned along the way swam up from the deep recesses of my memory. Or maybe Raleigh had mentioned it in his semi-coherent ramblings, hours before he’d died. He'd said that their mother was a psychologist.

  Or rather, had been, as my guess was.

  That made me remember another detail. That morning, after we’d escaped the collapsed building, when I’d wanted to turn back and try to get to Sam, Nate had convinced me that even if she was still alive, there was nothing I could do for her now. With stark clarity I realized that he hadn’t just told me that because I was about to leave a loved one behind. He’d very likely been in the exact same position. And he’d never once mentioned it to me, not on the many, many occasions when I’d complained about all that I’d lost, all the sacrifices I'd had to make along the way, ignorant—as usual—to anyone else’s plight.

  For the first time in our time together, my heart hurt for him.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I murmured, forcing my mind to jump back to the here and now.

  “But it does!” Sam argued. “How can you trust a man who keeps so many secrets from you? And don’t dare to deny it. Whatever you just thought about, your misery is written plainly on your face. Just stay here. With me. I know that you are convinced that things are not ideal, but what did shacking up with him get you into? You’re barely more than skin and bones. You are hunted by people. So much happened to you that you won’t tell me, but I can see the horror in your eyes. It’s not just when you have nightmares—“

  She continued rambling on like that, but I stopped listening to her. We were right back to where things had gone awry between us. She only saw what she wanted in me—a victim. A helpless, hurt little bird that she could nurse back to health. She had acted just like that when my career had flown off the rails when I’d had that massive freakout down in the BSL-4 lab that had almost ended with my hallucination-induced suicide. I hadn’t wanted to see it back then, but I’d always known that she’d thrown herself into the role of my protector and nurse, outwardly consoling me but really doing her best to keep me down.

  As much as I’d sometimes felt like railing against Nate’s tough love approach to all my many shortcomings, I knew that he would never put me down. Everything he’d ever demanded of me had been rooted in his conviction that I could reach that goal, that I could put that obstacle on the road behind me and grow in the process. He not only saw me—he saw the best possible version of me, and would always do his very best to shove me down the road that would lead to me becoming her.

  There really was nothing left for me here.

  Glancing over to Mary, I debated asking her how she could live with what I knew was really going on here, beyond all their quiet, kumbaya-esque community. I could already picture her answer. A daughter, a sister, a grandchild—someone was somewhere held for ransom, and rather than fight, she’d let herself become part of the gruesome machine that condemned hundreds of women to unbelievable misery and death. If they’d wanted to make a change, the people of Halsey could have risen up any day and overwhelmed the fifteen to twenty guards that I’d counted. They could have called for help over the radio. They could have sent someone to get help. But rather than become their own heroes they were content playing the victims.

  I was so over it.

  Looking one last time at Sam—who was still talking at me, increasingly more frantic as she realized that her words weren’t getting through to me—I did my best to commit her face to memory. I couldn’t save her from herself—but I could get out there and do my very best to make sure to eradicate the danger that was looming just out of sight. She would likely never know that it had been me, in the event that I succeeded. It didn’t matter. None of that mattered anymore.

  Stepping back, I pulled off the hat and raised my face to the sun, forcing my eyes to open as wide as they would go. Pain arced like lightning through my skull, and immediately the tears started running down my cheeks. I kicked my sandals off, my still aching feet protesting, but if I needed to run or fight, they’d only hinder me.

  “What are you doing?” Sam called out, breathy with anxiety.

  Smiling at the increasingly more blurry image of her, I reached out and squeezed her hand. “You know that I’m a shitty actress. The only reason I could deceive you was because you wanted to see me as the weak, v
ulnerable victim. That wouldn’t work on anyone else if they saw me marching out of here with my head held high.” I paused, and slowly let my fingers slip from her grasp. “Goodbye, Sam. I wish you a long and happy life, but I can’t be a part of it anymore.”

  I didn’t wait for her reply, just turned around and launched my crying, sobbing self into Nate’s waiting arms.

  Chapter 33

  The moment my body collided with his and I felt his arms close around me, it was as if something inside of me broke. Tears that a second ago had just been caused by hypersensitive eyes turned real, as did the pretend sobs wrecking my body. I knew that I had to be strong, that I wasn’t out of danger yet, but right now I just couldn’t hold it together anymore. All the fright and horror of the past week came up inside of me, but there was so much more that choked me up. So much loss and grief and disappointment, a world of hurt that was simply too much to bear, to shoulder alone anymore. On top of that rode relief that he was alive, that what I hadn’t even dared to consider—that when Taggard’s people had nabbed me, they’d killed him and the others—hadn’t come true. The knowledge that I wouldn’t have to set out on my own, that I still had people I could trust at my side. So I allowed myself a few seconds to just let go, to let all that out and shove it off my chest, so that with my next, deep inhale I could pull myself together again and do what must be done, damn the consequences.

  Of course, Nate didn’t know any of that, and I had no way of communicating that to him. I could only guess how seeing me strung out and another few pounds lighter must have seemed to him. What had started as a simple embrace soon turned into him clutching me to his chest as if he was trying to wrap as much of him around me as possible, to shield me with his body. I could feel the tension increase in his muscles, which kicked my own alertness into a new level. Pressing my face into the mothball-scented coarseness of the poncho, I took a shaky breath, resisting the urge to let myself go further. I needed to snap out of this, right fucking now.

  “Bree, please tell me that you’re okay,” I heard him whisper into my hair. “I swear, I’ll kill everyone here if they’re responsible for this.”

  His words made me choke out a laugh, barely more than a hiccup, but I felt him relax immediately. I knew that it wasn’t an empty threat—but rather, a simple fact. That this made me laugh spoke volumes of just how screwed up I was—but I was in very good company there. Craning my neck so my lips could almost reach his ear, I murmured back—and for once didn’t feel bad about lying.

  “I will be. Just get me out of here, right fucking now.” I paused, using another deep breath to further ground myself. “You don’t need to kill anybody. But I do.”

  His grip on me loosened, letting me breathe freely again. I hadn’t even noticed that he’d been holding me tight enough to constrict my airways. I still clung to him, unwilling to let go just yet, but that didn’t hinder him from shoving the sunglasses onto the bridge of my nose and pushing the hat deep into my face. It was then that I realized that the entire ridiculous outfit was for my benefit—to shield my eyes from the sun, and to have something to bundle me up in should they have found me naked. I didn’t want to start considering what Nate had expected to find here. At least the skirt and tank top that I was wearing left me able to move freely.

  There was a chance I would still need that.

  Turning my face into Nate’s neck, I shamelessly smeared snot and tears all over his clothes before I nudged the glasses back into place. The wrap-around, glacier-proof ones would have been better, but these ones would do in a pinch. I blinked until I could see more or less straight again, noticing Andrej standing behind Nate where he could both pretend to be part of the conversation that the guards had mostly with Martinez, with Burns adding the odd comment here and there. I instantly berated myself for losing track of what was going on, even if it had been for only thirty seconds or so, but there was nothing I could do about that now. And with ex-mayor and still-asshole John standing right next to Martinez, I couldn’t allow myself to make a weird move. The fact that he hadn’t recognized any of us yet was a miracle, and one I wasn’t about to threaten.

  Just then another of the guards laughed about some derogatory statement Martinez had offered up that I knew must have made him taste bile, but he didn’t show any of it. It seemed he’d assumed the role of the leader of this group. Like any of the soldiers we’d seen out there they didn’t have any rank or unit insignia on their gear. Their getup could have fooled me—and hopefully would continue to do so with the guards.

  “Where you headed next?” John asked conversationally, but I didn’t miss how the other guards around him perked up. Andrej was still glancing my way, so I let my hand drop down from Nate’s shoulder to his shoulder blade and tapped my middle and index fingers twice, pointing east. Andrej gave me a lazy blink that anyone would have missed, but I could see his upper arm tense as he signaled something with his fingers that I couldn’t see.

  “We’re heading to an installation next to drop off these two here,” Martinez offered, his eyes never leaving the guards. “East of here.” It was a wonderfully vague statement but I couldn’t help but tense slightly, even though I willed my muscles to relax.

  The guffaw one of the guards gave was confirmation enough that it had been a good answer, and the guy from before shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “Fate can be such a bitch,” he murmured.

  John was the only one of them who wasn’t snickering, his eyes taxing the three “soldiers” once more with a hint of suspicion.

  “Tell old man Taggard hello from us. Rotation’s overdue for two days now,” he said.

  I’d been waiting for someone to mention his name, but even so I didn’t manage not to jerk as my entire body tensed up. Nate must have noticed and likely the others, too, but what was surprising was that Burns went rigid—and that before he could have caught on to what was going on with me. John’s eyes zeroed in on him, but Martinez’s easy, relaxed drawl demanded his attention.

  “I wouldn’t call him that to his face and expect to survive. You testin’ us or something?” Jerking his chin toward Burns, he let out a snort. “He’s new. Don’t mind him. He’ll learn.”

  Did they know more than I’d expected? It was possible, but unlikely, extrapolating from the fact that Nate hadn’t started cutting a bloody swath through the guards yet. He seemed more alert now if trying to hide it, making me guess that he was playing off my reactions. Martinez must have hazarded a lucky guess.

  The rising tension among the guards lessened, one of them even going so far as the slap Burns on the shoulder. “You’re in for a nice surprise.” He finished that up with a leer in my direction, which I could thankfully evade as I pulled away from Nate, but made sure to keep his body between me and the guards. Part of me was praying for one of them to make a wrong move so I could let out the pent-up hatred festering inside of me, but I did my best to appear as meek and passive as possible. I wondered for a moment if I should have continued to cling to Nate, but if anything went south, we’d both need room to maneuver.

  Martinez turned around, his eyes barely more than skipping over me as he gave a nod to the other two. “We’re moving out.” His eyes returned to Nate, and I was surprised just how well he pulled off that derisive, you’re-beneath-me glance that traders got from so many sides—us usually included, I hated to admit. “Unless there’s a reason for a longer holdup?”

  Nate shook his head, his eyes downcast after a moment of contact. “I got what I came here for. We don’t want to be a burden.” He took a step closer to me as he looked around the guards and gathered people, his eyes skipping over Hamish and the other men before they returned to John and that other talkative guard. “Thank you all so much for sheltering my wife. I don’t know what I would have done without her.” I could think of a thing or two but wisely kept my trap shut. Let them believe that I was a meek woman happy to let her man speak for her. The sooner we got out of here, the better.

  There was s
ome suggestive grinning going on between the guards that got Nate to gnash his teeth, but he kept his hands open and relaxed at his sides, outwardly calm for anyone stupid enough to fall for it. I forced myself not to look back as our small group started toward the gate. I could feel Sam’s gaze on me, but there was no sense in seeing the betrayal and disappointment in it one last time. That part of my life was irrevocably over. What counted now was that I still had a life, oh, ten minutes from now.

  Our three guys were walking in front of us, Martinez still chatting with the guards while Burns seemed like a hulking boulder next to him, his spine ramrod straight. He managed to glance back to me once, and the cautious curiosity in his gaze, paired with a ton of apprehension, was all the confirmation I needed—he definitely knew who Taggard was. I gave him my best stony look back, hoping that would be enough for him not to blather anything before we were safely out of gun range of the settlement. My skin was crawling, my mind just waiting for the trap that we couldn’t have avoided to spring. This was all too easy…

  We reached the checkpoint at the gate without anyone holding us up or rounding on us. Not even John looked at us with more than some thinly veiled glee. For that alone he deserved a well-placed kick where it really hurt, but I did my best to simply ignore him and stare at the inside of the palisades instead. Only one more minute, maybe two, and I’d finally be free again…

  There was just one more step remaining except for them to open the gate, and that was for the guys to get their rifles back. Everything still rested on the table where they’d dropped them, another bored guard standing watch. Martinez was maybe ten feet away from the table when a loud whistle sounded from the top of the palisades where a single, somewhat scrawny guard stood. I made the mistake of looking up, as did everyone else with even an ounce of combat training around me—the wrong move, it turned out.

 

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