Green Fields (Book 4): Extinction

by Adrienne Lecter

  “Have I mentioned how much I love battlefield experiments?”

  Nate grinned but remained silent as he continued to reload his sniper rifle.

  The com cracked, drawing my focus back from our banter to the road. “Front Charger, copy. Leading the second group down into the plains, rendezvous after first bridge looking good,” Jason said, confirming what Burns had told us minutes before. “Thirteen Alpha, you aware that you have your com on the entire time?”

  I couldn’t help but grin, but it was Burns who replied for me. “Yeah, they always do. Serves for entertainment these days. Nothing goes with a good bloodshed than some old couple bickering.”

  “You warm my heart, Burns. And my panties, if I was wearing any,” I replied. My momentary mirth was short-lived as I glanced behind us again. “Horde is catching up to us. How far until we reach that bridge?”

  “Another mile,” Pia reported. “If you get scared, we can do rear duty, as usual. So much easier in the front, isn’t it?”

  It wasn’t like I wasn’t tempted by her offer, but I’d rather die than let that sit on me. Which, considering our situation, was a possibility. “Nope, I’m good. Just a little antsy. I don’t like running.”

  “Finally something we can agree on,” she replied. “We see the bridge up ahead. If you haul ass, you can get there in about five minutes if you need an escape route.”

  “Thanks, but if you do your job, we won’t have to run,” I said. That got me a laugh from her.

  Glancing to the right, I thought I saw a dust cloud rising behind the trees that grew along where the slope hit the flat ground, here at its narrowest. As soon as we passed by that, the area evened out into the delta that Charlie had been talking about earlier, sun streaming into the car from the east. I squinted, wishing not for the first time that I had self-tinting shooting glasses. I could see a few structures that might have been a farm up ahead, and there was that first bridge. The rivers meeting here must have flooded several times over the course of the last year, leaving low sand dunes everywhere. Not the most ideal underground to make a stand, but what slowed us down would also hinder the zombies. The remaining cars were about a mile out, on perfect intercept course. Except for our timetable, so far everything was going splendidly.

  It was just a matter of minutes until someone would jinx it, I just knew it.

  “When are you going to drop the mines?” I asked, watching out for the horde behind us. They were only now streaming around the last bend of the road and into the wider basin. Seeing more targets ahead made them fan out, but the faster ones were still following us.

  “Once we are beyond the bridge,” Nate replied just as the hatch of the car before us opened, Pia looking out. Nate scrambled back again, and I couldn’t help but tense with every uneven patch of road I hit. Demolitions expert or not, I didn’t quite trust him not to blow us up. What was the half-life of explosives, anyway? Did they just become less effective, or deadly unstable?

  I forced myself to stop panicking as I accelerated just a little to draw closer to the other cars. Taylor’s was falling back until all three of us were driving side by side, rocking over the uneven ground. I didn’t know why explosives still scared me more than anything that fired ammunition. Maybe because guns had never brought an entire building down on me.

  “Get ready to throw the Happy Meals,” Nate ordered. “On my mark. Three, two, one…”

  My right leg trembled on the gas pedal, but I forced myself to keep the speed steady. The last thing I needed was to shoot ahead, and anything that dropped behind would go off right next to one of our vehicles.

  None of the charges detonated when they hit the ground, making me tense up even more. The zombies swarmed over them within seconds, and still nothing—until a loud “boom” got me jerking in my harness, the car rocking slightly as the pressure wave hit us. In the mirror I saw a huge cloud of dust rise, obscuring a good part of the horde following us—except for the five super zombies that were still hot on our heels.

  “Slow down!” Nate shouted, his voice clearer over the com than through the car.

  “The fuck I will,” I protested.

  “I’m not going to repeat myself,” he threatened. “Slow down. I think I can take at least two of them out with grenades.”

  I considered just speeding ahead, but then eased off the accelerator, gnashing my teeth. If this got us killed, I was so going to kick his ass…

  A cadence of smaller explosions went off behind us. Seven. I counted. One of the zombies disappeared from view. Then a second, and a third remained farther behind as it was limping heavily now. That left two.

  A slap on the shoulder gave me a start but made me speed up, racing after the other cars. By now our reinforcements had reached the road, between the lead cars and our trio in the back. The two cars carrying machine guns were drawing to a stop, aiming behind us. Andrej already started breaking away to turn the car, passenger side facing toward the zombies, and I eased into a similar maneuver.

  Nate, back in his seat, was getting his assault rifle ready. As soon as the heavier guns started shooting, I brought the Rover to a stop and watched anxiously as he opened the side hatch below the passenger side window. All our cars had them, a nifty little surprise for anyone who thought that you couldn’t just shoot out of a moving car. Aiming was virtually impossible, but with what came toward us, it was harder to miss than hit.

  Then everyone who wasn’t behind a wheel was firing, the resulting racket deafening. I gritted my teeth, my earplugs only doing so much. Through the car, I watched as the zombies coming toward us fell by the ranks, bodies jerking as they were riddled with bullets. Nate slammed a second and third magazine into his rifle as he emptied the other, then barked a loud, “Go!” at me. I didn’t hesitate before I sent the car forward, circling back until I hit the road. Most of the other cars didn’t bother and just fell back, driving through the dunes and remaining rivulets. As dried up as the river had seemed a few miles below the settlement, here water was still flowing.

  Twice more we aligned ourselves into that very same formation, and every time I wondered how much of a difference we were making as we fell back. There were zombies everywhere. The shots only seemed to draw them closer rather than decimate them. Lots of them remained on the ground, with even more tearing into them, but there were still so many running…

  Until we built up a fourth line of defense, and this time kept shooting. I hated having to stay inactive, with nothing to do but watch. Yet as the last shots rang out and the air cleared, the onslaught had stopped. Not that we’d killed all of the shamblers—not even close—but there were a lot more that were busy feeding rather than lining up to meet their timely end. I didn’t need Nate’s command for us to beat it—half aiming for the hills, us going toward the second bridge to withdraw to the other side of the river.

  With the immediate danger dimmed, I felt weariness sweep through me, but I forced myself to remain alert. I was sweating like a pig and muscles all over my body ached from getting jostled the entire time—and being tense as hell didn’t help—but the latent panic had run its course, leaving me feeling that weird adrenaline hangover as my body decided it had mobilized enough resources for now. Fat chance, but for a few minutes I could almost relax. The way to the bridge was clear, and we were the second car that reached it, with Jason’s in the lead. Andrej was once more right behind us, but now Burns was on my other side, while Taylor had joined the second group.

  “How many do you think we killed?” I asked Nate, unable to stop checking our rear. Still nothing coming after us but the remaining cars.

  “Hopefully enough,” he answered what I had actually wanted to know. I didn’t like the look of worry on his features.

  “You don’t think so?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Our plan didn’t factor in the emerging group dynamic.”

  That was a sobering thought, but nothing we could do anything about until we were back at the settlement to check if we�
��d made a difference or not. I wondered if he felt vaguely stupid—as I did—about not thinking about that. We’d seen something close to that happen in Sioux Falls—why was it a surprise that it happened again? But there was a difference between squatters aggregating, and leading a concerted effort to tear down walls.

  “What happened to the last two of the juiced ones? Did they go down?” I asked.

  “Lost sight of them, so I’ll presume they are still out there. Just because fate is a bitch,” Nate replied, making me laugh despite of myself.

  “Shit.”

  “Could be worse,” he offered. “We’re still all in one piece. And looks like for now we’re getting away.”

  Just as he said that, static burst from the radio, making me grimace with the feedback. Then I heard shots ring out from behind us on the other riverbank, and I knew that, yup, Nate had just jinxed it.

  “Status!” Jason barked, the car coming to a halt as soon as it was off the bridge.

  “We’re getting overwhelmed here!” a male voice answered, drowned out by another, screaming profanities. Searching for the issue, I couldn’t see anything, a stand of poplars at the riverbank next to the bridge hiding what was going on there.

  “Burns, see anything?” Nate demanded, but I knew the answer would be negative as their vehicle was already halfway across the bridge.

  “Negative. The river bank was clear when we passed it,” Cho reported. “They must have been hiding in the trees.”

  My first impulse was to suggest to turn right around and go back over the bridge, but just then the driver of Jason’s car noted, “Incoming from the north!” Looking further upriver, I saw another mass of zombies—smaller than what had come after us from the settlement, but still substantial—pour onto the plain, coming right for the remaining two cars that we still couldn’t see.

  “What about our other group?” I asked Nate, but he was already shaking his head.

  “They’ll be out of range by now. If they’re still here by the time we get clear, none of us will make it.” Looking around, his eyes zeroed in on something further downriver. “We drive south until that mudslide over there. We cross the riverbed, go up the other side, and see if we can get the other cars out.”

  I so didn’t like the sound of that. “Won’t that break our suspension?”

  “Only if you hit a boulder the wrong way,” he told me with a grin, then jerked his chin toward the riverbed. “Come on, we’re wasting time. Time that they likely don’t have.”

  No objections came from Jason, so I let the Rover roll forward, toward the mud slide that Nate had indicated. It looked smooth enough from a distance, but I had to slow down to a crawl to get the car to go down the steep decline. Andrej followed immediately after, sending a small shower of rocks banging over our rear. After that I had to concentrate too much on what I was doing to keep track of the others.

  Endless minutes later we reached the bottom of the riverbed, larger stones making the crossing harder still. A few times I got stuck, but managed to rock myself free again eventually.

  “Wouldn’t it have been faster taking either of the bridges?” I grumbled as the Rover crashed against another boulder, making me wince.

  “No element of surprise,” Nate replied, continuing to look around us. “We’d draw too much attention from the other shamblers. We’re almost through. Keep going.”

  We reached the opposite bank more or less intact, and with a fountain of gravel flying out behind me, I managed to get the car up out of the riverbed. There was some underbrush up on the bank but it was no match for my mighty bumper. We broke through about two hundred yards south of where the two cars stood jammed together, swarmed by a mass of zombies. It looked like we were already too late, but I could still hear shots being fired, so I aimed right for them.

  “Any last minute advice?” I pressed out between gritted teeth, asking myself not for the first time today why I was doing this. No sane animal headed into danger, but only ever away from it.

  “Try not to total the car,” Nate said. When I grunted, he offered a brief laugh. “Get as close as possible. I’m going out.”

  “You what?” I asked, but it was already too late. He had the door open and threw himself out, ending in a crouch after a spectacular roll. I made a sharp left turn to throw the door shut again, ending with my rear toward the zombies. In front of me I saw the other three cars coming for me—a somewhat unpleasant sight in and of itself—but didn’t hesitate to throw the Rover into reverse and slam it right into the mass of zombies with as much precision as I could. Which was to say, I kept going until the rear bumper hit metal, then sent it back forward, each and every bump I went over giving me just a hint of satisfaction.

  Rifles were going off all round me, and as soon as I was clear of the worst of the fray, I stopped the car, popped the buckle of my harness, and exited myself, shotgun at the ready. There was no time to get my face gear on, but I was sure that I was far enough back that it wouldn’t matter. So far, inhaling a little of aerosolized zombie hadn’t done any damage. It was more the bleeding gunk all over me part that I tried to avoid.

  With twelve people closing in rapidly, the about fifty zombies were soon down on the ground. I got to squeeze off a few rounds, but mostly kept myself to guarding their backs. Martinez and Charlie went in to pull the people from the car that lay toppled over on its side; the other was still functional and only got stuck when they tried to rock the first one back upright. The scent of gasoline lay heavily in the air—cloying enough to be ominous even over the stench of decay—and as soon as the two wounded were clear, Jason called for a retreat. I watched as they were pulled into the back of the Land Cruiser—our impromptu ambulance vehicle—while Burns got back behind the wheel, barking at Martinez and Cho to haul ass.

  Glancing around to make sure that no zombies had manage to sneak up on us from the other side, I jumped into my own car, with Nate only seconds behind. I took off as soon as I was strapped back in. Someone must have thrown a grenade at the wreck because it went up in flames moments later, a scenic backdrop to the five of us speeding away, heading straight for the first bridge. There were zombies everywhere, scattered across the plain, but most were feeding on their fallen, ignoring us.

  I allowed myself to relax as we reached the other river bank once more, heading back south without further delay.

  “How bad are they off?” Nate asked once all the cars were clear.

  It took Martinez a few moments to reply, likely because he was still busy patching them up.

  “One’s looking good, just a little banged up. Sprained ankle, maybe a few broken ribs. The airbag broke his nose, but I think the blood’s all his.” He paused for a moment. “The other has a long gash straight across his back. He’s unconscious right now so I can’t assess how his torso’s doing, but lungs sound clear. Could have been from some scrap metal, but there’s gunk everywhere.”

  Shit. That didn’t sound too good. My thoughts were echoed when I heard Jason curse over the com link.

  “I’m fine,” an unfamiliar voice replied, presumably the first patient. “Fucking suckers surprised us. They were just there, from one moment to the next. One of them slammed right into my windshield and I panicked. Next thing I know, we’re jammed together sideways, and they’re coming through the broken windows. Safety glass, my ass. Boss, I’m sorry—“

  “No need to cry over spilled milk,” Jason replied, his voice uncannily soft. “Can you still shoot?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Mind if he stays with you guys?” Jason asked.

  Burns was quick to respond. “With Martinez busy trying to do some bona fide battlefield surgery right there in the back, we’re a man short, anyway. Would appreciate the help.”

  “Awesome,” the not-patient replied. “You got any spare ammo? I’m all out.”

  “Crate’s right behind the driver’s seat,” Burns said. “Help yourself.”

  With the rocky meadow mostly clear ahead of us, I
chanced a glance at Nate. He was looking grim, confirming my guess about the fate of the second merc—and maybe the first, too. We’d already lost one of our own to a wound that he hadn’t even felt getting. Something in the zombie saliva was so fucking neurotoxic that it immediately took out the pain receptors around the wound. Only time would tell if Jason was about to lose one or two of his guys. Either way, it wouldn’t happen until long after this operation was over—whether we won or lost.

  Fifteen minutes later, we were around the river bend with the flood plains opening ahead of us, letting us catch a first glimpse at the settlement again—but that wasn’t what drew my eye. I stared for several seconds straight, until I hit a boulder and the resulting jostling tore me out of my stunned silence.

  “Are those fucking tanks?”

  Chapter 7

  The smile spreading on Nate’s face wasn’t something I got to see often. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen it.

  “Actually, that’s an ABV,” he said, chuckling under his breath at my blank stare. “Armored Breacher Vehicle. What amounts to he lovechild of a tank and a bulldozer. Combat engineers use them to clear IEDs. Didn’t think we had any left, or personnel trained to handle them. Looks like I was wrong.”

  Now that we’d rolled to a halt, I couldn’t stop staring at the thing. From up closer, it looked exactly like Nate had described it—a tank with a plow attached in the front. One of them even seemed to have some kind of crane attachment, although that was folded square on top of the vehicle. As we kept watching, the hatch of the one closest to us opened and a man looked out, wearing what looked like regular army combat gear. He shouted something at us but we were too far away to hear. At Nate’s nod, I brought the Rover forward until we were in shouting distance. And because just opening a window wasn’t impressive enough, Nate had to climb back and open our own hatch, as if we had to prove anything. Next to those forty-foot long behemoths all of our cars looked rather diminutive.