Green Fields (Book 7): Affliction

by Lecter, Adrienne

  “Pretty much. For a while we figured that I got most of the perks they got.” I nodded at Nate, Burns, and Tanner. “That’s why Wilkes and his squints decided to ignore the extenuating circumstances and give me those extra two marks. But of late I’m starting to wonder if they were wrong.” And because life was out to get me, that fucking cough had to return that very second. No phlegm this time, but my wheezing was impressive enough to draw all the attention in the room.

  I had to hand it to her, Minerva didn’t shrink back, but the thread of warmth that had been in her eyes was gone when I locked gazes with her again.

  “So you think that rather than being half zombie, you’re afraid the balance is shifting toward two thirds?” she guessed, the sarcasm lacing her words easing me rather than alarming me. She could have just shot me, or come after me with that ax of hers.

  I hesitated, leaving it at a shrug. “Maybe? Maybe not. I don’t think I’m contagious, or else I wouldn’t have walked into your settlement.” I shot a sidelong glance at Blondie and his buds, all of them noticeably paler now. “If I were, I’m sure someone else would have fallen sick already. And there’s a very good chance that this is just a normal, nasty cold that I caught because I may be immune to the zombie virus, but not quite as bulletproof as they are. There aren’t exactly many immunologists or doctors left who know their shit and have a lab at hand. But there’s the Silo—“

  “And they already have your samples from when they inked you and your infection was fresh,” Minerva finished for me, giving a curt nod. “Makes sense that you’re heading there.” She thought about that some more before she pushed away from the table. “Jason, I presume you and your merry band of misfits will want to use this as a way to get out of hunting duty?”

  Jason’s previously subdued smile was back in full force. “You know us too well.”

  “Thought so,” Minerva grumbled under her breath, not a hint of surprise in her tone. “I can’t make any guarantees, but as I said, Wilkes would be stupid to antagonize me. We will send an extra load of grain and preserves with you to fatten him up. But if I were you, I wouldn’t tell him the entire story, or at the very least give it a different spin. I have it on good authority that they’ve recently had some issues that might make your problems hit a little too close to home.”

  “Like what?”

  Her snort at my question was somewhat derisive. “You can likely guess. Not everyone from that Nebraska settlement that you so eloquently brought down came to us. A smaller group, somewhat under pressure, decided to head for the Silo. That much is common knowledge. What very few people know is that the reason for their rushed departure was that one of their own was showing unclear but concerning symptoms of infection with a delayed progression that kept him alive to their very doorstep, but not much beyond that. From what little Wilkes had to admit to me, they lost a good third of their scientists when the corpse wouldn’t quite stay dead. Does that ring a bell?”

  I could tell from the confused looks all around that for them, it didn’t. Even Nate eyed me askance, but I didn’t dare look away from Minerva’s imploring gaze. Shit, but I hadn’t expected that outcome. Choosing my words carefully, I offered, “I might have an idea who caused that.” Her brows went up, silently urging me on, but I turned to Nate instead to explain. “That asshole of a mayor. From Harristown. Remember, in Halsey, when you came to fetch me and then all shit broke lose? He cut me when he was trying to make a stand and hold me hostage. Well, when I threw him over my shoulder and then turned the tables on him, that knife might have nicked his throat a little—“

  The curiosity in Nate’s gaze turned right into a deadpan stare. “You deliberately infected him.”

  “Not deliberately,” I offered, trying to play off that thread of guilt slowly blooming in the back of my mind. But really, did karma always have to come back around and slap me in the face? “In my defense, I tried not to get shot or sliced up, and end the entire fucking situation as quickly as possible to keep innocent bystanders from being shot or sliced up as well. I might not have been in the most stable mental state at that moment, leading to a slight lapse of judgment…”

  At Nate’s snort I trailed off. “You killed him,” he offered, cutting through my bullshit.

  “I thought I did,” I amended. “And I can’t say he didn’t have it coming. But I didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough not to shoot him the second the fever set in. The scientists at the Silo should have known what was going on at the very least! Someone must have mentioned that I was the one who cut him, and that should have alerted them!”

  “I’m sure it did,” Nate answered, his tone wry. “That’s why they couldn’t just burn him, which would have been the smart thing to do. No, they had to dissect him, and take some samples, and oh no! Why did nobody think of cutting his head off first!” He even raised his arms halfway, giving a very half-assed impression of flailing.

  I snorted at his antics, but then turned back to Minerva, who was still studying me with interest. “It was an honest-to-God lapse of judgment on my part. I had my reasons, but I would have been more careful if I’d expected anything like that to happen.” It certainly explained why we specifically weren’t welcome at the Silo anymore. It also tore open a wound deep inside of me that I’d thought long healed—if the mayor had survived several days, what had happened to Erica? Sure, she’d gotten sick right away after they’d injected her with my blood, but considering the slower progression, she might have still been alive when Gussy, zombified, had taken the entire underground complex apart. Had they taken her with them when they’d evacuated their shit? Or had she run? I hoped the latter was true, but that likely meant she’d died out there, all alone, if only a few days later than she should have.

  Minerva gave a rather ambiguous shrug. ”Not my people, not my problem. But you see now why going to the Silo might not be the best option for you, even though you think it’s the only option? You’re free to stay with us, if you don’t want to return to the coast just yet. We have plenty of room, and a lot of work for people who know their way around outside of the settlements. Come see me tomorrow morning with your answer. Until then, please enjoy our hospitality.”

  She pushed away from the desk and left. Blondie was still giving me the weird side-eye, making me itch to cough in his direction just to see him jump. I refrained, generally not too keen on showing weakness—least of all like that.

  “Sounds like we’re dismissed,” Tanner noted wryly, scratching his chin.

  “Looks like.” Focusing on both him and Harris, I asked the question that Minerva’s parting remarks had inevitably posed. “We’re continuing on to the Silo, but you heard what she said. Just arriving in the same convoy with us might get you a less than friendly reception.” I did a quick calculation in my head. “Can’t be more than two to three days driving. We can easily do that last leg of the journey on our own.”

  Before either of them could answer, Jason butted in. “Already said we’re coming with you. Not going to back out of that just because they might have an actual reason to hold a grudge against you. It’s an easy three-day drive, two if we’re pushing it and the weather allows it. My achy old bones tell me that we might be getting snow soon.”

  Charlie let out a guffaw from where he was still lounging by the door. “Don’t believe a word he says. The locals told us about the weather, and the last two hunting groups confirmed that a few storm cells are building.”

  I didn’t like the idea of driving in bad weather, even more so with regular road maintenance and snow plows being a thing of the past. Then again, neither Jason nor Charlie looked particularly perturbed, so I figured that getting a face full of sleet when I had to hop out of the car to relieve my bladder might just be the worst that was in store for us.

  “Gita and I are coming with you,” Tanner offered. “I’ll have to talk to the rest, but they will likely want to stay here until we’re back, lazy bastards that they are.”

  I glanced at Harris
, who gave a shrug. “Got nothing better to do than tag along.”

  “Gee, everyone’s so enthusiastic these days,” I muttered, ready to call it a day and get some food. Yet as I turned around, I found Blondie behind me. “You got something to say, do it. And you better be on your best behavior, because I don’t think Minerva was carrying that ax just because she thinks it’s pretty.”

  Jason, of course, had an answer for that, too. “Nope, she uses it to kill deer if the shots didn’t do the trick. And she claims she likes to have something handy that resolves issues rather than creates them.” That sounded about accurate from what I’d gleaned off her. Burns found that funny, of course, while Blondie did his best not to let us sidetrack him again.

  “We’d like to come with you as well. If you don’t mind.”

  That was somewhat unexpected, and I couldn’t just accept with a simple nod. Instead, I put my hands on my hips, trying to appear as if I wasn’t damn exhausted from all that driving around and sitting all day long. “And what if I do mind? What are you going to do then?”

  One of his compatriots chuckled softly. Francis found that less funny. “Do you get off on being a bitch?”

  Before I answered that, I shot a scathing look Burns’s way that went, oh wonder, mostly ignored. Of course he was silently laughing his ass off.

  Nate used the opportunity to offer his esteemed opinion. “You can’t give her an opening like that and expect her not to go for it. It’s like setting up a buffet in front of a starving dog. The amount of training it requires to keep it from wolfing it all down is hard to come by.”

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I gave Nate the stink-eye. “Are you done yet equating me to canines?”

  “Well—“ Nate started, barely hiding a smile, but I talked right over him before he could finish that thought.

  “Yes, I mind if you tag along, but as you can see, nobody gives a shit about my finer sensibilities. Behave like someone we’d want around, and there won’t be a bullet in the back of the head waiting for you. Think you can keep from exceeding the amount of assholery we got going on? Your choice.”

  Francis looked not exactly thrilled with my proposition, but eventually inclined his head. “Gotcha.”

  That settled, I made for the door, our group quickly dispersing outside as Harris and Tanner returned to their people, and the asshole brigade made themselves scarce as well. Jason looked after them with a bemused look on his face. “I know there’s a story behind that, and I’m almost afraid to ask.”

  I waited for Nate to regale him with that, but since he seemed to have lost his tongue, the deed fell to me. “Let’s just say that we started off on the wrong foot, but they came through at a moment where I really didn’t expect it. I’m trusting them a whole lot less far than I can throw them, but who am I to keep them from signing their death warrants?” Glancing at Nate, I added, “Besides, it’s been a while since we had some fall guys along, just to make sure I make it.”

  “Who knows what they might come in handy for,” Jason divulged. “Let me give you the quick tour of our home, and then we’ll get some quality food into you. None of that beans and rice shit you must have been living on. One thing I don’t miss about being on the road is rations.”

  “So true,” I agreed. “Lead the way.”

  Chapter 12

  We spent most of the remaining daylight hours wandering through the settlement with Jason as our tour guide. Simply stretching my legs without having to constantly look over my shoulder—something I’d come to associate more with settlements than the great wild outdoors beyond the palisades—was great. We got to meet several of the people that made up the group the Chargers had managed to survive the apocalypse with, and lots of new friends they’d made since then. At first I felt a low level of trepidation well up deep inside of me whenever I saw a blonde woman duck out of a house or cross the street, but about an hour in I told myself to quit being so paranoid. Technically, it was possible that I’d run into Sam—as far as I knew she’d ended up somewhere around here, and I was sure someone would have told me if that hadn’t been the case—but just as I wasn’t too keen on running into her, she must be feeling the same. Our arrival had stirred enough people up that she must have heard of it, and the settlement was by far large enough for two people to avoid each other.

  It was easily the largest settlement that we’d seen so far. New Angeles might have been huge if one included the old city, but the actual living space was only a stretch several blocks deep and about three miles along the beach. It was obvious why Minerva had referred to it as her homestead—rather than one enclosed town it was more like several patches of habitats, each with their own communities and defenses, all working together to pick up each other’s slack. Between that were pastures and fields, now mostly bare for the winter months, but Jason enthusiastically explained that, thanks to the machinery they’d managed to procure on the way back from our crusade, bringing in the harvest had been a breeze, and they’d increased the amount of agriculturally used areas three-fold for next year. I’d never been one for farming, but the idea that they not only managed to hold their own but readily expanded to help others warmed my heart.

  Or maybe that was simply the delicious smelling venison we got for dinner. Judging from the way the guys dug in, it tasted just as good.

  Minerva had done a good job establishing that she was a hard-ass leader, but when she approached the many campfires that had been set up to feed their guests, she readily joined in, regaling the crowds with stories of her youth in the reservation, and later as a defense attorney. And not just that—about an hour in, I was ninety percent positive that she’d already convinced the townies that we’d been escorting to remain here with her people rather than go on to the Silo. It didn’t come as much of a surprise when later, as hot tea and coffee were distributed that went well with the moonshine that was passed around, she tried her pitch on us as well.

  “Told you before, we could use people like you,” she explained from where she was sitting across the fire from where Nate and I had hunkered down with Jason and a black-haired beauty who seemed surgically attached to his side. Burns had disappeared a while ago, feigning going for a leak, but I hadn’t missed that five seconds later, the two girls he’d been joking with all evening had followed. Well, good for him. Maybe that got him off my back for a day or two.

  “We’re not exactly much for community,” Nate retorted, nibbling on a hunk of cheese. “Might come as a complete surprise, seeing as we spent the entirety of the warmer months out there on the road.”

  Minerva wasn’t perturbed by that statement. “As Jason must have already explained, we here have a place for everyone. You can spend days on guard duty or hunting and never meet another human soul, if that’s your thing. There are abandoned cottages all over the hills and up in the mountains, and we only need a few days to build new ones. And there’s the matter of looting.” Her gaze skipped from us to Jason. “The city and metro area are still not safe to visit, but there are lots of houses outside of that, full of everyday items that are still useable and no one cared to carry off yet. We can’t send in larger vehicles that are too slow to get away in case they attract the wrong kind of attention, but the cars you drive should be able to make a clean getaway easily. Might not be glamorous, going house by house, street by street, stripping them of glorious items like pots and winter clothes, but it’s a hell of a lot safer than being out on the road where anything can happen. Plus, more equipment means we have surplus to either barter away, or attract more permanent residents.” She paused, considering our obvious lack of an enthusiastic reaction. “It’s pretty much what Emma set her people to doing all summer long, besides building their wall. I heard that all started with a somewhat misguided trip to Douglas, and ended with Wyoming establishing the first large, independent community.”

  Sighing theatrically, I turned to Nate, remembering our venture into the town all too well. “And I still haven’t seen that damn jackalope sta
tue.”

  “Put it on your bucket list,” he grumbled, still more interested in his cheese. I could tell that the topic bothered him, but didn’t know what to say to diffuse the tension.

  Minerva, uncannily reading his reaction, leaned forward. “If you’re reluctant to join us because you’re afraid that history will repeat itself and you get shunned for all the work you put into rebuilding what has been lost, I can guarantee that it won’t happen here. If Jason’s word isn’t enough, you can ask anyone here. We’ve never turned anyone away simply because we didn’t agree with where they came from, or what they’ve done in the past. We value action above everything else. Clean up your act, contribute to our community, and you’re valued and welcome here.”

  Nate’s soft laugh held a clear edge. “Do you really think I’m that shallow or vain that I hold a grudge against Emma because she didn’t value our contributions?”

  Minerva ignored his biting tone. “No, I think you’re right to have cut all ties to the people who were so ready to forget that it was your effort that brought them through the long and harsh winter, and who didn’t hesitate to ostracize those of you who have already sacrificed for our country long before we knew just how valuable that price paid in blood would become. I wouldn’t want to deal with people who are that short-sighted myself. The worst that would happen to you here if we chose to kick you out is we’d limit your access to the communal areas under supervision, and provide you with an easily defendable home outside of the inner perimeter of our settlement. Seeing as you’ve already stressed that you don’t want to live smack in the middle of a sheep pen, I think you’d likely even prefer to live a day’s walk away from the bustling heart of our community. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the camp your people have established north of New Angeles sounds very close to that concept.”