And my, wasn’t that a question I so didn’t want to answer. I could practically feel Sam’s gaze bore into me, making me want to offer a slew of lies—but then again, it was probably in my best interest to keep her at a distance.
“Actually, no,” I started, choosing my words carefully. “We happened to be together when things went south in Lexington.”
I didn’t need to directly look at Sam to see her stiffen, and judging from the light frown crossing Mary’s face, she’d noticed it, too.
“How long have you been married?” she asked next, still conversationally but that edge was back in her voice.
“A few weeks,” I said, feeling kind of shitty that I couldn’t even give an exact answer to that. “Of course we’ve been together much longer. But that was when we decided that we might as well get hitched, seeing as there was no one else out there with whom we’d rather spend the rest of our days.” It was as close to an apology as I could give Sam—or was willing to. I knew that technically, I owed her nothing, but it still felt shitty to tell her all this. I should probably have been thankful to Mary for pulling all that out of me, preventing a more intimate conversation later. It was only then that I realized that she was likely aware of that, and kept asking questions for that very reason. That made me guess that she wasn’t much more happy about me being here than I was myself. But why keep me from the radio if that was the truth? The sooner I got someone to pick me up, the sooner she would be rid of me.
“Was it after you sustained that injury on your leg?” Mary continued the interrogation. I left it at a simple nod. The less I had to talk about that, the better. Mary didn’t seem to agree with me. “It looked like you sustained a lot of damage there,” she noted. “It must still be painful to move after something that left that amount of scar tissue.”
It was a good thing that I was as exhausted as I was. Otherwise I would have likely stiffened at her words, and not only after a few seconds to think over the implications of them. I shrugged, hoping that she’d take my hesitation as general discomfort thinking back to how I’d sustained said injury.
“It still hurts sometimes,” I offered, rubbing over my leg underneath the table. “Particularly after I’ve stayed immobile for a while. But moving helps.” As did the amount of nerve damage I’d sustained. In some places I still couldn’t feel it when I ran my fingers over the scars.
“How exactly did—“ Mary started, but this time I didn’t let her end the sentence.
“Dogs,” I said, letting my voice lose volume and emotion both. “It was dogs.” Let them make of that what they wished. The less I said, the more horrible the conclusions would be that their minds jumped to. I could see several people around us wince, and the scowl that had been firmly planted on Sam’s face turned into a look of misery and compassion. It made me feel even more shitty to try to manipulate her like that, but it wasn’t like I could tell anyone the truth.
Mary hesitated, but finally inclined her head. “Hamish, I think it’s time. Sam, will you go with them and make sure to find a place where our guest can rest during her stay with us?” Both of them nodded. Mary turned back to me, her smile not exactly warm, but a little less unfriendly than before. “Anna, I hope that you understand that we are naturally suspicious of anyone coming to us under the circumstances you did. But rest assured, you have nothing to fear from us here. We value life above all else.” In afterthought, she told Sam, “Make sure to tell her about the rules. I will hold you personally responsible if she causes any trouble.”
That made my hackles rise, but neither Sam nor anyone else at the table reacted negatively to it. Sam inclined her head, and she and Hamish got up once Mary dismissed them with a nod. I followed suit, trying not to keel over when my thigh muscles protested vehemently. Sam was there to keep me from falling, my obvious display of clumsiness garnering me the odd smile. I would never have lived that down with the guys—and that realization gave me another pang deep in my chest. Shit, but I missed them all. So, so fucking much.
Chapter 29
The radio was located in the building closest to what I realized was the road leading from the main gate into the settlement, three houses down from where we’d had breakfast. There were a few desks heaped with paper and books in there but no one manning the station. A few people had followed us but remained at a distance while Hamish sat down and started fiddling with the controls, looking unsure enough to make me guess that they didn’t use their radio very often. So far I hadn’t gotten to see any of the radios in the settlements but I would have expected everyone to know how to operate them in case of emergency. Apparently I was wrong, but I hoped to use that in my favor. Sam remained by my side but didn’t say anything, either still mad at me, or waiting to resume our conversation once it was just the two of us. I didn’t exactly look forward to that.
Hamish finally managed to get the right frequency, signaling me over to the desk mic they had set up.
“Dispatch, do you copy?” he asked, still working on two of the levers. “This is the Halsey settlement. We have a guest here who would like to talk to you.”
Static cracked, followed by a voice that I didn’t recognize, instantly making me suspicious. “Halsey, hearing you loud and clear. What do you want?”
That sounded hostile enough to make me guess that this settlement wasn’t one of those on the neutral list, but then nothing here had given me that impression. I leaned over the mic and managed to blow right into it, resulting in a rather abysmal whine as the feedback made us all wince. “Sorry!” I called out, hoping that I wasn’t overdoing it. “I’m not used to this. Daniel usually does all the talking.”
A pause, before the unfamiliar voice was on again. “Who’s this?”
I cleared my throat, making the mic whine again. “My name is Anna. I’m looking for my husband Daniel?” If I was deliberately vague, all the better. “Who am I talking to? We usually talk to Tamara or Mike.” That should clarify that I wasn’t quite oblivious of how this was normally done.
“I’m Frank,” came the answer. “Tamara’s out for the week.” So much for hoping that I could sneak in some inside joke that would make her recognize me. “We get lots of folks looking for someone. You can’t possibly think that we have time for that?”
Whoever this Frank was, I didn’t like him, and not just because he sounded like an unhelpful asshole. But as much as I wanted to snark at him, Anna couldn’t really do that, scared mouse that she was.
“I’m sorry,” I tried to assuage him, making sure I sounded it, too. “We were part of a trader group that got ambushed last week. I thought you might have heard something of that by now? If my husband is still alive, he must be looking for me.”
Rather than reply to me, I heard the telltale lack of static that made me guess that Frank had muted the mic to ask around. That got verified when he came on again a few moments later, sounding a little less like a complete asswipe. “Where exactly did that happen? Any details you can provide us with could help.” He didn’t sound too ecstatic about that, though, making me want to sigh with exasperation.
What to reply? I didn’t dare drop any more concrete names like Yuma. It had probably been a mistake to mention Colorado at all, earlier. But I had to give him something, or else he would just ignore me, I was sure.
“We started from a settlement in Colorado, going north,” I offered the same bull that I’d dished out at breakfast. “We got a contract to deliver some crates. Medicine and clothes, I think.” Yeah, like any trader wouldn’t know exactly what cargo they were carrying. Shit. I really needed some sleep, and lots of it. “Listen, I’m sorry that I’m so vague. I’m not a good navigator,” I hedged. Which was only partly true, but then what did I have Nate for? “I spent days out there, scared for my life.” Truth, again. “Can you just, I don’t know, ask around? I’m Anna, looking for my husband, Daniel Hawthorne. Please. Maybe I’ll get lucky and you manage to track him down? He must be looking for me already.” That was about as much hinting
as I dared allow myself. Now all I could do was hope that it was enough.
Frank mumbled into the mic, hopefully as he was taking notes, before he spoke more clearly again. “I’ll see what I can do. But don’t get your hopes up. We’ve lost people a lot more proficient at survival than a bunch of traders. If they haven’t signed in with us in the meantime, they’re likely all dead.”
“Thank you,” I said, trying to sound like I meant it. “You’re my only hope.”
A pause followed—with luck, he realized that it was one of the nerdiest obscure quotes out there. But rather than acknowledge it somehow he just signed off, leaving me standing there none the wiser. My shoulders slumped as a visceral feeling of defeat rushed through me, making it hard to breathe for a few seconds. What if I was wrong and they really weren’t looking for me, thinking I was dead? Or, worse, Taggard’s people hadn’t just snatched me up but killed the others? In a town as large as Yuma, who would miss a few traders?
Fuck.
I knew that I couldn’t think like that, but it was hard to fight the dark thoughts threatening to crush the spark of hope inside of me. I knew they were still alive. And even if they weren’t, there were a lot of people out there who would follow me on a bloody warpath of revenge.
A light touch on my arm made me jerk away, too late realizing that it was only Sam. She gave me an unreadable look before she nodded toward the door. “Let’s get you a place to sleep before you keel over,” she offered. To Hamish, she asked, “You’ll tell us if they call with news?”
He nodded. “You’ll be the first to know.”
Sam led me away, and I didn’t protest. Sleep sounded even better than food had before, and I needed it about as much. She went to one of the smaller, newer houses that turned out to be little more than two stories of sleeping quarters, each room holding two rows of cots. “It’s not much, but we’re trying to be thankful for what we have,” she explained by way of apology. To someone used to sleeping on the ground or in the questionable comforts of a car seat not exactly designed for restful nights, it was an unexpected luxury. I would have been happy with just a blanket on the floor, too.
As soon as my head hit the pillow, I felt exhaustion overwhelm me—but that didn’t mean that my mind was ready to shut up and let me sleep. I dozed off quickly enough, but startled awake what couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes later, sure I was back in that damn tiled cell. Sam looked up from where she’d sat down on the cot next to mine, a book in her hands that had seen better days. The concern on her face seemed more like reproach to me, so I turned over and tried to go back to sleep.
The most I managed was a fitful slumber, interspersed with nightmares and memories—the factory; Taggard’s underground complex; the cannibal compound; the motel room. I was running until I couldn’t run anymore, fighting until all strength had left me, until everyone I’d ever known or cared about was dead. That was the worst—not just that they were all dead, but that I was alone. All alone in the world.
Through the small window high up in the wall I could see the progress of the sun across the sky. I gave up a few hours after noon, feeling not a little rested although I could tell that my body had recharged somewhat, likely due to the food. Sam was still there, watching me more than reading her book. I remained lying on my back, eyes closed, for another ten minutes, waiting for exhaustion to finally do its thing and pull me under, but alas, that didn’t happen.
“Remember when I used to volunteer at that shelter, in college?” Sam asked, her voice low enough that I couldn’t read the emotions swinging in it. Turning to face her, I raised my brows, silently prompting her to go on. The look on her face remained unreadable, but a certain pleading quality became noticeable in her tone. “Despite what you may say, you’re behaving awfully like the women I met there. Who were abused by the men in their lives.”
I couldn’t hold back an exasperated sigh, although I already knew that would just spike her ire. “Sam—“
“No, listen to me,” she insisted, dropping her book in favor of turning to me, her hands folded in front of her. “The way you startle and jerk all the time. The way you look at everything like a deer caught in the headlights. You can maybe alleviate everyone’s suspicion here because they don’t know you, but I do. Or at least I used to.”
Letting air escape slowly through my cracked lips, I tried to find words that I simply didn’t want to say. “I’m not saying that a lot of shit didn’t happen to me over the past year,” I tried to explain. “But Daniel isn’t responsible for any of that.” Which wasn’t quite true, but Nate had never deliberately traumatized me just for the heck of it. And he’d always been there to let me vent or otherwise learn to cope with the situation. Only now that for the first time that I really, actually needed him… But I knew all too well that thinking along those lines wouldn’t help me.
Sam let out a frustrated snort. “So this thing between you and him—“
“Our marriage,” I cut in, knowing I hurt her, but anything that would get her to leave me alone was better than this.
Her mouth twisted with derision, and her tone turned sharper as she continued. “I thought you died out there, you know? When you didn’t come back home that Friday evening.” She paused, giving me a chance to speak up but I remained silent. Her next breath was clearly audible, speaking of a world of hurt that I immediately wished I could take from her. “All this time I grieved, and the truth is that you were cheating on me with some guy. That’s why you didn’t come home. Typical.”
I knew that I didn’t deserve this, but still felt like she had a right to say so. “Sam—“
She shook her head, making me fall silent again. “Guess I can’t fault you, right? I always knew that sooner or later you’d go back to… Never mind. How did you get out of the city?”
I shrugged, not sure exactly how much to tell her—and how much of what had actually happened she would believe. “Yes, Daniel and I were together,” I said. “Then it became obvious that we had to flee, so we ran.”
“So you abandoned me,” she pressed out, anger low in her voice. I tried to shake my head but stopped myself. In a sense, I had.
“I couldn’t have made it across town by the time we realized what was going on in the morning—“
“It would have been too late by then,” she cut through my protest, her eyes boring into mine. “They sent a detail to fetch you, you know? Apparently you were on some list of important people worth saving. They waited until after midnight before they brought us all into their evacuation camp. They said maybe you were already there as they were sending someone to your work place, too. And when they flew us out, I saw what was going on down there, and I knew, you couldn’t be alive anymore. There was that bridge with all those people trying to run—“
She cut off there, looking away. The impulse to vault up from my cot and shake her until she told me every damn detail was there, but I cut down on it. What were the chances that it had been that very bridge where the nightmare had really started for me? There had been planes and helicopters flying overhead, leading the undead surge straight to us.
But none of that mattered now, and it would have been cruel to explain that to her.
“Sam, I’m sorry—“
Her sharp laugh cut me off again. “Don’t be,” she huffed. “I’m sure that your Daniel helped you move on quickly.”
A slight echo of that old pain deep in my chest flared up, but it was mostly how I was hurting her feelings that made me speak up.
“I mourned you. For weeks. Months. Heck, just last week I thought of something that you’d have said, and it still hurt. Yes, I moved on, but you would always have remained a part of me. Because I loved you. I really did. Whatever else happened, that never changed.”
There was, if anything, only satisfaction visible in her gaze. “Loved? As in, you used to?”
Anger made me want to snap at her, but I forced myself to calm down before I answered. “Yes. But meeting him had nothing t
o do with that—“
“Liar,” she grumbled, narrowing her eyes at me. I held her gaze evenly.
“It’s true, and you know it. I’m not saying that everything was terrible toward the end, but what we had barely even resembled a relationship. You were sleeping around, and I was doing everything to keep myself out of situations where we had to do something together. We would have both been much better off if we’d just called it quits and parted amicably.”
I knew I shouldn’t have said that when I saw the stricken look on her face, making me feel like shit. After a year of not pussyfooting around anything with Nate it was hard to remember that I had never been this frank with Sam—which was likely the cause for the rift that had opened between us.
“It was all terrible for you?” she whispered after swallowing thickly. Oh great. Next thing she would start to cry, I knew it.
Shaking my head I looked to the side, trying to salvage the situation somehow. Fighting like this was so useless. I felt like slapping myself for how I was wasting what still felt like an opportunity I had never expected to get—to spend one more hour with her and tell her all the things that I never got to say.
“Of course not. I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s all just…” I trailed off, then sat up so I could reach over to her and take one of her hands between mine. She let me, but her grasp was lifeless. “So much has happened. I can’t think straight right now. Finding you alive here, it’s—“
“Too good to be true?” she offered, a weak smile ghosting over her features.
I nodded. “Pretty much, yeah. It’s the first good thing that’s happened to me in a really long time.”
Sam considered my words before she pulled her hand away, but rather than withdraw further, she got up and walked around my cot, sitting down behind me so she could lean against the wall. She patted her thigh, and after a moment’s hesitation I lay back down, my cheek cushioned on the soft folds of her skirt. Her fingers went up to my hair, stroking gently, making me relax instantly. The sense of familiarity sweeping through me was enough to choke me up.
Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 2 | Books 4-6 Page 67