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Green Fields (Book 7): Affliction

Page 7

by Lecter, Adrienne


  Harris nodded. “Makes sense. Doesn’t sound like anyone here wants to join, but we got a call in earlier from our next stop. Might add to our numbers there. They’ve got themselves a few too many scavengers who overstayed their welcome, and might be doubly glad if we take some along with us. Even offered beds indoors and some other creature comforts if we do. For all of us,” he stressed. “Not everyone’s as stupid as these fuckers.”

  I couldn’t help but grin at that. “Did you tell the good folks of Pixley that there’s an entire colony of us just camping beyond the horizon? Could be here on foot if any of them insta-convert within a good night’s run.”

  I got a shrug for that. “Might have mentioned that fact. They didn’t seem too pleased about it. Then again, they also keep complaining about the beacons and how that makes their hunting trips extra hard. You and yours must be really special that Greene shares the beacon schedules with you.”

  Now that made me choke on the tasteless chili. “He doesn’t with you?”

  Harris shook his head. “Never asked, to be frank. We’re well enough north of the main zone to avoid the streaks, even if they come a little close sometimes. Us not knowing the schedule means that whenever they need something sent south, they need to come and get it. Works fine for us.” He paused, glancing at the settlement behind him. “I think I should get back there before anyone does something stupid and we’ll have to join you. We’ll bring some fresh milk and eggs for breakfast. If you have any other special needs, hail us. They already shoved a ton of shopping lists at us. Might as well ask for anything we could possibly want in return.”

  We wholeheartedly agreed to that and wished Harris a good night. Tanner waited until he was back through the gate before he turned to Nate. “Good thinking. If I hadn’t been along yesterday, I never would have guessed that’s not the main reason you’re heading to the Silo.”

  “Who says it isn’t?” Nate replied, leaning back in his chair. “However long that truce holds is anyone’s guess. We might as well try to mend things with Wilkes, provided he feels like they’re broken. We’ve never gotten any confirmation of how we stand toward each other. Come spring, our first trip won’t be north but east. As long as we keep Dispatch on our side, nobody can fuck with us. As great a place to hide as New Angeles is, it’s useless during most of the year for most of us.”

  “I’m sure Rita’s already looking forward to that,” I quipped, unable to hide a smile. Nate ignored me, turning to his food instead. The others did the same. One thing the people of the Pixley settlement weren’t, and that was stingy. We easily had enough to feed twice our numbers so nobody had to go hungry as we tucked in for the night. As much as it sucked to have to stay out here, at least we were warm and fed. Could have been so much worse.

  “I’m taking first watch and Bree’s up for last, as usual,” Nate decided. Briefly grinning in my direction, he added, “Need some alone-time with my wife.”

  Burns answered that with a laugh. “I’m not giving up my cozy sleeping place in the car. You better do what you need to do out here, freezing your asses off.”

  “To talk,” Nate clarified.

  That made me chuff. “Way to get a girl’s hopes up!”

  The others hashed out the watch schedule between them, Gita getting second, Tanner third, and Burns the shittiest of them all just before mine. They trudged to the cars rather enthusiastically, not much of a surprise considering the dropping temperatures. Nate held Gita back for a second. “I’ll wake you when we head to bed. Might be later so don’t set an alarm.”

  That got him a relieved smile. “Don’t mind that one bit.”

  “Thought so.”

  He returned to me after swinging by the Jeep to get something from the cargo hold, briefly checking in with Burns before it was just the two of us left. I eyed what he carried back to the dying fire with incredulity that only rose further as he handed me a steaming mug several minutes later.

  “Hot cocoa? You are aware that I still can’t taste anything?” I noted, not even trying to keep the skepticism out of my voice.

  Nate shrugged my comment off. “But you can still smell it, and feel the warmth when you wrap your hands around the mug. It’s not just the taste that makes this the world’s favorite comfort food.”

  “It’s a drink,” I pointed out.

  His sigh was a light one, if holding a note of exasperation. “You always complain that I don’t take you anywhere nice that’s not zombie infested. Consider this my attempt to remedy that.”

  “So places do exist that are zombie infested and nice, do I have that right?”

  Nate looked away, but didn’t try to hide the smile crossing his face. “Why, don’t you have the most wonderful memories of Colorado and Nebraska from last summer?”

  Leaning back in my chair, I balanced the mug on my crossed knee, lest I hurl the contents in his general direction. Trading barbs just felt… inconsequential on the grand scale of things.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Nate observed when I continued to study the last embers of the dying fire.

  “I remember very clearly that just hours ago you complained about the running commentary Burns and I have going on during the day.”

  “Because that’s beyond annoying,” he grumbled, but didn’t let me sidetrack him. “But that’s you on autopilot. Even someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do can see that your heart’s not in it. Or your head, really.” He paused, likely studying my reaction—or lack thereof—intently. I refused to make his job easy and catch his gaze. “You’re still concerned about the results.”

  Exhaling slowly, I took my time blowing on the contents of the mug. It smelled divine, even if it was prepared with water rather than milk, coming from a, without a doubt, dubious source. “Where did you get this, anyway?” I asked, mostly not to have to reply just yet, but also because it really was a peculiar thing to be carting around.

  Nate chuckled softly, letting me know that while he chose to answer, he wouldn’t let me get away with my evasive tactics for much longer.

  “They had some stocks left in New Angeles, but they’ve started to spoil. I grabbed a can while you had your physical. The plan was to drop it off at the camp, but I forgot, all things considered. And since they won’t let us into the settlement, why share it with them?”

  I eyed the mug a little more critically, but figured that between the hot water and what else was already going on in my system, a few more questionable additives of the biological kind wouldn’t kill me.

  “Makes you wonder what else will be useless very soon,” I mused. “Last summer that was a completely utopian question as even just living into the next week seemed like a stretch. I remember when we started out in spring, someone in some settlement or other told me to bring high quality clothing so they could store it and make it last as long as possible. Now we’re already at the point where dried goods spoil. How long until we’re out of a job?”

  “Long,” Nate replied. “True, easy to pick up and use things will be useless soon, but they’ll have us hunt for parts and materials like copper wiring for decades to come. The much bigger question is, with what will we get the goods back to the settlements then? There might be fossil fuels around until long past our lifespan, but we’ll see a lot of the vehicles we’re using right now break down soon. Ten, maybe twenty years, and we’re down to anything that’s simple enough that it just won’t give out.”

  I couldn’t help but snort at his pessimism. “Unless I drive it. Then it barely holds up beyond a year. Wasn’t that what you really wanted to say?” This time I looked up and held his gaze, putting as much challenge in it as I could muster, relaxed and inhaling cocoa scents.

  “Sometimes I’m surprised you didn’t trash the Rover sooner,” he observed succinctly. “And it wasn’t for your lack of trying.”

  “Not my idea to speed across dried-up riverbeds and ride down collapsing mountain sides.”

  “Aren’t you exaggerating that a little?” he prac
tically chortled, making me glare right back at him.

  “It certainly felt like that,” I pointed out.

  He shrugged my claim off—and went right in for the kill, now that I’d let down my guard.

  “Do you really think you’re about to bite it?” The acerbic note in his voice wasn’t lost on me.

  “Why can you never take my concerns seriously?” I complained, trying hard not to sound whiny.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” Nate shot back. “And I am taking you seriously. More than I want to, if I’m honest. I’ve only seen you this freaked out once, and that was when you realized what the company you’d been working for had been doing down in the bowels of the building.”

  That made me laugh. “Not even our little ‘there’s no safe place on Earth remaining’ talk?”

  He gave that some thought. “I think you already knew that was the case, just needed someone to spell it out for you. But this now is different. I know you well enough to see the difference between you being annoyed, and you being deeply disturbed.”

  I wasn’t quite sure if that was comforting or not. It was nice to see that he cared, but it wasn’t exactly one of the times I wanted to be taken seriously. And I had to admit, as much as I was freaked out, some of the urgency of that had lessened over the past days without any new—or exacerbated—symptoms showing up.

  “Maybe I’m overreacting,” I admitted, glancing down at the mug before holding it out to Nate. He hesitated, then finished his own and took mine. No need to waste it when it really wasn’t going to do anything for me.

  “You? Never,” Nate quipped, but it didn’t sound quite sincere.

  “No?” I offered up a bright grin. “Let’s be honest. I’m so not sorry not to have to bake bread and build log cabins. I should probably feel bad for taking three able-bodied people away from the effort of establishing the camp in record time, but you both tagged along on your own accord.” Looking around, I couldn’t help but utter a small sigh. “I’ve missed this, you know? How things were last year. Hell, how things were this year before it all went to shit. Never thought I’d say that, but we had a good thing going on, all things considered.”

  I’d expected mockery, and of course Nate didn’t disappoint. “You miss being a scared little incompetent shit?”

  I didn’t bother with an annoyed grunt. “Why don’t you finally give me some credit? You all had your basic training followed by years of combat experience. I got the scare of my life, followed by what I know now was just as grueling on all of you as it was on me. It was sink or swim for me, and while I may have done some splashing and paddling around, I swam.”

  He grimaced briefly. “Which was exactly what was to be expected from you.”

  “Excuse me?” I didn’t have to feign the hint of real anger that crept into my voice.

  Nate shrugged. “You were a highly trained professional who was used to working under extreme conditions. Sure, you might have lacked the stamina and strength at first to keep up and not be an exhausted puddle after each stretch, but you had a much easier time handling the stress than some others. Working in a lab where even the smallest tear in a glove could kill you supersedes a lot of other environments.” He paused to take another sip of cocoa, clearly amused to watch me fume. “Besides, it wasn’t like any of us had a choice. What do you want me to say now? Good job, here, have a gold star? You’re alive, and last time I checked, that was the only thing that counted.”

  “Well, I certainly didn’t miss this part of the pep talks,” I harped, but couldn’t help but feel somewhat mollified. “So, tell me, what do I get for that gold star?”

  His answering grunt certainly was a good start. For once the wiser man, he kept his trap shut, leaving me to muse without riling me up once more.

  “It’s not the only thing I miss,” I admitted a couple of minutes later. “After leaving Aurora and their lab behind, I thought I’d thrown that door shut forever. But I can’t help it. I miss it sometimes. Investigating, analyzing, poring night after night over data to find that single detail that will make a difference.” Snorting, I kicked at a pebble. “Then, of course, I remember all that shit Alders kept piling on top of even more bullshit, and I feel like science and I, we’re not exactly compatible anymore.”

  Nate’s smile held little humor. “So Aimes and Hamilton really got under your skin when they told you everyone expected you to roll over on us and join their squint squad.”

  I wasn’t stupid enough to deny that. “Maybe a little? It’s not like I have anything else other than my intellect to be vain about anymore.” The fading scars on my hip gave a twinge as if on command, making me rub my thigh absentmindedly. “It’s not like I’m seriously considering that,” I went on quickly, trying to defuse that glare Nate was sending my way. “Beside the point that they’d likely shoot me on sight rather than accept my help, were I to offer it. Which I’m not. But there are so many questions left unanswered. There’s so much I could know. When we came back to the Silo after I almost died, I barely heard every fifth word of what Sunny tried to explain to me, and after dropping that bomb about what exactly happened to—“

  Exhaling forcefully, I made myself go on, trying hard to ignore the different kind of pain inside of me that had nothing to do with physical scars.

  “I may not have wanted to know anything then, but I want to know now. They’ve had months to analyze the data, from both of us. It only makes sense to drop by again and let them be the judge of whether my body’s on a downward spiral, or just the usual bender that I haven’t quite gotten used to. It might not make a difference, but I want to see the results, black on white. Last year I would have killed to get my grubby fingers on data like that, to see what the virus and serum actually do to us. Then I had it presented to me on a silver platter, but I just couldn’t deal with it. A lot has changed since then. I have changed. So why not go for it? Chances are good that we’ll get snowed in up there, anyway, and I doubt that even if things are strained—and they might not be, for all we know—Wilkes will let us freeze to death at his doorstep. At the very least I’m sure I can talk Dom or Sunny into handing over printouts with their complete findings. I can think of worse ways to spend the winter than doing some casual reading. Besides, with Dom still hell-bent on recreating all the antibodies and antibiotics that he can, he’s likely the guy who can cook up whatever cocktail my body needs to stop acting up.”

  Nate seemed surprisingly agreeable with that idea. “Let’s see what kind of reception we have waiting for us first. If worse comes to worst, we’ll find a log cabin and hunker down there for the winter. Between you, me, and Burns, we can easily make it through several months of setting snares and actively hunting game. Might be a somewhat one-sided diet, but I’ve subsisted on worse. Worse even than your beloved animal chow.”

  “You don’t think that Harris and his guys would join us?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Ideally, I’d try to make it back south to Utah and stay with Jason and his people. Watching you stalk around like a bristling cat whenever you see Sam might make for prime entertainment.”

  He got a scathing look for that. “Yeah, like you wouldn’t get jealous within a day or two.”

  “Never happened before. Don’t see why it should happen then.”

  “Because you never had any competition,” I pointed out, pursing my lips. “Might actually be worth it to see just how miserable you’d get once you realized you’re not that damn special.”

  “But I am,” he pointed out, flashing his teeth in a self-deprecating smile. “Consequently, your point is moot.”

  Mere months ago, I would have let that bait me into going off in his face, but now I just settled more firmly into my camping chair. “Keep deluding yourself. I’ll have a front-row seat to watch you eat your own words.”

  “Wanna bet?” Nate taunted.

  I considered for a moment. “Right now I can’t think of a single thing you could offer that I wouldn’t get otherwise anyway.”

 
; “So honor and bragging rights aren’t good enough for you anymore?”

  “Never were, never will be,” I shot back. “Now drink your cocoa. I need to take a leak, and might as well do a quick perimeter check, even if you want to ‘wing it.’” I even raised my hands to do the air quotes, but stopped, turning over my right hand to scrutinize my fingers. In the near darkness it was hard to make out, but for a moment I’d thought that there were slight discolorations on my pinky—besides the scrapes on my knuckles from sparring without using any hand wraps. I flexed my fingers a few times and, considering everything worked just fine, I discarded it as a fluke. Getting up, I grabbed my shotgun and set out to do exactly what I’d stated I’d do, leaving Nate and his slurping behind.

  Chapter 6

  The following day dawned late and overcast, the weather a little better than before, but not much. I was cold and kind of miserable where I’d parked my ass against the grill of the Jeep, watching the sky lighten gradually. The settlement had no visible outward guard posts near, but we’d noticed a change of guards just after midnight, and another well into my early morning shift. That was the likely reason we hadn’t seen so much as a fox during the night to disturb our slumber. Still not very effective, considering they’d let us come up right to the gates before not letting us in, but it was apparently enough—for now. It was anyone’s guess if there would be a zombie migration happening toward the southern, warmer states this winter, and how much the beacon maze around New Angeles would draw them away from the mountains around here.

  The weather notwithstanding, I felt pretty cheerful this morning, and as soon as Nate crawled out of the car, I ditched my shotgun and jacket to take off at an easy lope around the settlement. He caught up with me halfway around the more or less circular palisades, first falling into step with me, then starting to push. Soon, we were running full out, doing a good three laps before Burns joined us. Gita and Tanner watched us from where they’d started a fresh fire for coffee, Tanner shaking his head at us when I tried to get him to join. Without the outer layer to protect me from the wind, I was rather cold at first, but quickly worked up a sweat. In the camp I might have done a lot to avoid running laps—like sparring with Nate, knowing full well that I wasn’t a match for him—but after being back on the road with no respite in sight, it was nice to power through my body’s energy reserves to counteract all that stasis of sitting for hours on end. Driving was exhausting, no question, but it didn’t compare to running full-out across the hard-packed dirt, letting my body find its own rhythm. Before long, I left Nate and Burns behind me, dipping deep into my reserves.

 

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