Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 2 | Books 4-6

by Lecter, Adrienne

  Rita scoffed. “It’s also incredibly naive. I can think of a thousand things that can—and thus will—go wrong right off the top of my head.”

  “Do you have a better one?” I asked, convinced not to let her rain on my parade. “I get it. This is madness. But did you forget that our entire endeavor isn’t exactly a well thought-out operation? The longer we sit here and do nothing, the bigger the target that we’re painting on our backs. The only thing we have in our favor is speed and unpredictability. So shouldn’t we do the thing that comes with the biggest element of surprise?”

  “Half of us would die before we’d even get there,” Flint protested once more.

  “No, they won’t,” I insisted.

  “And pray tell how you expect us to get through the most zombie-infested stretch of the country that exists?”

  I knew that it was a gamble to let them see into my deck of cards, but lacking that one piece of vital information, I could tell why they weren’t quite convinced I had retained even a semblance of sanity. I told myself again that Greene must have had a good reason to send all those beacon generators with us, and that included revealing a so far more or less kept secret.

  “We make sure that they don’t get to us,” I said, waiting for the inevitable shouting that should start any second now. I mostly got scoffs, but that had to do. “Simple question. Who of you has been to New Angeles before?” I got a scowl from Tanner while Gita beamed at me, underlining my suspicion that she’d known more about that entire beacon business from the start. Well, there went nothing. “The reason why they have a damn fine city going on down there is because they came up with some congenial defenses. When we set out from there, they sent some of that with us. It’s some kind of sonic pulse technology that has an extremely adverse effect on zombies, or the polar opposite when charged the other way round. Don’t ask me how it works, but it does work. Phenomenally well so. All we need to do is set the beacons to blasting out the adverse signal, and none of the shamblers will get anywhere near us. At least not if we don’t provoke them too much, I guess, so we’d still have to go slow so they can evade us and be out of the way by the time we get where they were when the beacons started to chase them away. We have by far enough spare car batteries to power all the generators we have with us.” I could tell that I would have to explain that in more detail, so I decided to drop the second half of the bomb on them while their minds were still reeling. “Driving through heavily infested territory might also come as a blessing. Who says we have to set all the beacons to aversion? Why not use a few to get the undead to follow us, so we can then use them as part of our attack?”

  That was about as far as I got before the voices of protest drowned me out. I didn’t bother with refuting any single claim that I’d gone insane, but waited for them all to die down again. And then waited some more because that wasn’t going to happen. At least not until Nate leaned over the table and slapped his hands down hard on it, making everyone shut up for the second he needed to start talking.

  “I get it. That plan’s even more insane. But you’ve all heard the news by now. Aimes told us as much, and our recon team confirmed it. They are already using zombies up there in the mountains to ward their base, and they’re going to be a huge problem for us either way. If we use the beacons, we can at the very least distract them, and bury them in the horde we gather and bring with us. Not all of us. Just a fraction of a fraction. I don’t have a current head count of how many people we have with us who are immune, but we wouldn’t need more than fifty for this plan to work. Two per car, going in groups of maybe three or four cars. Across the plains, we alternate them with the much larger streams of cars that are protected by the beacons. It’s a plan with a failsafe—first, the zombies get chased away by one group and attracted by the other, and even if that fails, we can make sure that they’ll chase us rather than the rest.”

  “Us?” Rita echoed. “So you’re offering to play bait?”

  “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Nate told her flatly, then glanced my way. “We’ve had first-hand experience with streaks before. We know how they work. We’ve also been around the beacons. If all else fails, we stand a much better chance at not dying even if we get bitten. So naturally, that’s what we will be doing.” He paused, then added, “Volunteers only. There’s a much higher chance that these teams will bite it than for the rest, and we still need more with the other teams to make sure that once we breach the base, we still have the upper hand where the zombies are concerned. Or if someone needs to physically tear down a door or two. Let’s not be coy about this, because we know that the other side is playing with the same resources, and they will use everything they have against us. I’m not being a boisterous ass when I say that those of us with the extra marks across our necks can do extra damage, and also take it. I wouldn’t ask this of anyone else, but I’m sure I’m not the only one here who feels like they have an obligation to give it their all to give us the chance to succeed.”

  There was still a lot of disbelief and outright dissent going on, but it was the biker chick of all people who nodded. “It’s a mad plan, but about as solid as it will get,” she agreed. “Provided you can make it through ten hours of zombie baiting, and then launch a full-out assault.”

  Nate shrugged. “It won’t be easy, but then few things worth dying for are.”

  “I can’t believe you’re agreeing to this,” Flint groused. “Why risk losing people before the first shots are even fired?”

  “Else we’ll never get there in time, if at all,” I interjected. “The weather is fine now, but we just need a few days of rain and there might be snow up in the mountains. If that happens, we will lose people, and might find ourselves with an overwhelming force of opposition. Don’t you think that the moment they realized that we know where they are, they called for reinforcements? We’re not just running against the seasons, but a possible convoy dwarfing our numbers. Aimes was right when he said that our best chance is to be swift and deadly. That way we will lose fewer people, and if we can agree on a truce before their reinforcements arrive, we can be spread out into the corners of the world again by the time they’ll consider hunting us down.”

  “And you think that truce would hold?” he asked. I didn’t care for the calculating look he gave me in particular.

  “Nothing is certain,” Nate offered. “But if we sit around here and twiddle our thumbs, we’ll never get anywhere. So unless someone else has a better idea…“ He waited a good ten seconds. When only silence answered him he gave a brief nod. “Then it’s settled. You know your people. Split them into at least eight groups, ten or twelve would be better. All volunteers for the bait groups will meet here with us in an hour. We’ll move out as soon as we have all the cars ready. Pack enough food for a week. Anything that takes longer than that means we fucked it up, and then everyone’s out for their own.”

  It was only then that the impact of us losing came down on me. How I had been that short-sighted, I couldn’t explain, but it took Nate saying those words for me to realize that if we fumbled this, it wasn’t just our lives on the line. It would impact everyone in the country, even the placid sheep in the settlements. Whatever beef I had with them and their idea to use us a convenient trading community on the move, the idea that with us gone they wouldn’t have a choice except to accept whatever terms were forced on them didn’t sit right with me. Only one way to find out if we could prevent that from happening.

  I let the others do the discussing and went to fetch some chow instead, only paying attention that it had high protein and fat content, not what had contributed said macronutrients. It was some kind of hot stew with lumps of meat in it, but I couldn’t tell where that had come from. Coyote or rats were my guess, but I didn’t voice that out loud. Breakfast of champions, that’s for sure. Burns tracked me down about three spoonfuls in, clinking his aluminum cup heaped with the same against mine before he dug in. I wondered if I should have asked him about what Nate had told me l
ast night, but decided to leave it at our usual easy teasing. I’d lost too much over the past weeks to give a shit anymore about what had happened in the past. Burns was still here and he didn’t hold a grudge against me, and unless I was sorely mistaken, he’d still up and join Nate on whatever we’d set out to do once this was concluded without looking back. If we survived, that was, and in a condition to do anything during the winter months to come. Not something I wanted to consider.

  “You think this is the smart thing to do? Run ourselves ragged, hoping we’ll make it through the zombies, and then storm the base?” I asked while I was preoccupied with getting the last dregs out of my cup.

  “It’s not a good plan unless it’s suicidal as hell,” Burns replied, laughing at his own joke. “I’ve survived worse. We’ll do fine.”

  With nothing else to do, I packed up my things, made sure that all my weapons were in working order and I had ammo for everything in my pack and at easy reach. Nate joined me at the Rover, looking pissed, but when he ignored my questioning look, I dropped it. “Do we have a marching order and route?” I asked instead.

  He nodded. “Sixty people in twenty-seven cars. I tried to foist Gita and Tanner at one of the other groups, but neither of them would budge, so they’re with us. Might help with coordinating, or end in a true disaster. Only time will tell. Tamara’s going with Harris and his bunch, trying to sort out the routes for the rest of them. With luck, we’ll all end up at the base at the same time. If not, it’s going to be one depressive field of slaughter.”

  “My, someone’s chipper this fine morning,” I said as I blinked into the rising sun. “And there I thought you got to enjoy yourself last night.” Nate only had an exasperated sigh for me, but that was likely for the best. “Anything else we still have to do before we leave? Maybe hold a speech or two?”

  I got a shrug for that suggestion. “If you want to, but from what I gathered, everyone’s either excited or still sleepy as hell, and the usual shitting their pants is going on. Speaking of which—“

  He was wise enough to trail off there before my hostile glare could turn into more. “Got that covered,” I retorted haughtily. “You don’t have to remind me how much on days like this, being a woman sucks.”

  Of course he had to snort, but didn’t harass me any further. “If you still need to catch up with anyone, now’s the time. I think I saw Jaymie asking around for you earlier. She’s leaving with Rita today, so if you want to catch up, you should do that now.”

  I’d wanted to, yesterday already, but there’d always been something else that needed doing first. Inclining my head, I grabbed my shotgun, leaving Nate to whatever last minute preparations he still needed to do.

  It wasn’t hard to track down both Jaymie and her sister, seeing as Tamara was glued to Rita’s side, nodding as Dispatch’s chief of security was hailing down instructions on her faster than she could take notes on a little pad. Jaymie stood right next to them, looking anxious as hell—not something I’d expected from her usual, laid-back demeanor, but I could see where things were different now that her sister was heading into danger, and none of them could hide behind fences and guard posts anymore. The moment her gaze fell on me, her face scrunched up, and it took me a moment to realize that it was a mix between a smile and a sneer. I still tried for levity as I stepped up to her, but before I could get a word in edgewise, she was in my face.

  “You better make sure that nothing happens to my sister, or I swear to God, I will come after you and kick your ass into the next century!”

  My first impulse was to make fun of her threat—it’s what I would have done with any of the scavengers—but I cut down on it, instead giving her a serious answer.

  “I’ll try, but you know that I won’t be in the same group she’s going with. My job is to make sure to be the distraction, to get the shamblers and soldiers both so riled up they’ll forget there’s anyone else out there. I’ll do my very best to make them ignore her, but there’s only so much I can do.” I couldn’t help but shoot a none-too-friendly glance Rita’s way. “Why is she not coming with us, anyway? She could take care of Tamara better than most.”

  Jaymie regarded me curiously, as if I’d said something surprising. “You don’t know?”

  “The hell I don’t,” I snarked. “All of us are throwing ourselves headfirst into danger, and she’s going to sit this one out? Sounds sketchy to me.”

  “Oh, I know she would love to, but she can’t. She’s got nyctalopia. She’s pretty much night-blind as soon as dusk sets in.” When I kept frowning, Jaymie snorted. “Or why did you think she’d hunker down in Dispatch when you all are having the time of your life out there? In a town where there’s always a torch or lamp handy, it’s only an inconvenience. Out there? It was mostly luck that got her to survive the first couple of weeks. She didn’t tell me much about it, but apparently it’s due to retinal scarring from an incident that happened a couple years ago.”

  Maybe it was just coincidence, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it had been fallout of whatever Nate had done to get out of active duty. Rita had been a career officer from what little I knew about her, and in hindsight it was peculiar that she hadn’t been with the Army when the shit had hit the fan. I made a mental note to ask her once this was done—provided I’d survive.

  Mostly to change the topic, but also because I kind of wanted to know, I asked, “And what’s next up for you? I heard a couple of your people talk last night, and they mentioned that they want to catch up with you before you leave for Dispatch. No sticking around, doing victory dances?”

  The Jaymie who’d dragged me onto the dance floor in Dispatch would have loved that idea, I was sure, but now I only got a shrug. “As far as I know, the plan’s to start a slow retreat, and judging from how your operation ends, we’ll either beat it, or wait for whoever wants to come with us. With half a state between us, it makes no sense to set up a triage station here. Besides, you have the new North Platte settlement just a few hours north if you need help.”

  That didn’t sound very enthusiastic. “Something happened that I should know about?”

  Her gaze remained even as she kept regarding me, but her face was too closed off to read. Never a good sign. “Nothing happened. Just reality catching up, I guess.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Her mouth snapped open, likely to deliver a scathing reply, but she caught herself before she could get there. The answer she gave was too diplomatic to sound true. “Life is what it is. Some were born to fight. Others to wait it out on the bylines and deal with the fallout.” I frowned, ready to weasel out of her what she really wanted to say, but she took Rita finishing her last-minute instructions as an excuse to end our conversation. “As I said, make sure I still have a sister this time tomorrow. And good luck, I guess.”

  I was still bewildered by the time I’d shaken Rita’s hand and turned to leave. Jaymie and Tamara hugged for a long time, but Tamara caught up to me quickly after I stepped away from them. When she saw the look on my face, she glanced back over her shoulder toward her sister, a light frown on her forehead.

  “Please tell me this is not about something weird, like that she’s jealous that I got married. Or not invited her for the wedding,” I groused.

  Tamara snorted, her brief smile disappearing quickly. “Wish it was. I’m a little concerned. I feel like she’s been talking to the wrong people. Or more like, listening to them.” When she realized that I didn’t get the hint, she sighed. “Bree, not everyone here’s convinced that a direct attack is the way to go. And splitting off the supes won’t do you any favors with them.”

  “The what?”

  Tamara made a throw-away gesture. “Super soldiers. People like your husband, and, I guess, you now, too. You know, those of you who don’t really have a reason to be afraid to venture outside of the secure walls?”

  This sounded way too familiar not to make me taste bile. “Seriously? First off, just because we can’t get infected
doesn’t mean we won’t be torn to shreds if we get overwhelmed just the same. And we’re here because it’s people killing people that we need to stop, independent of what’s going on with our biochemistry.”

  I didn’t much care for her calculating look. “Are you really? People have been talking. And they’ve also been listening, to what you and that Aimes guy were talking about. Who tells them that you won’t just switch sides if the offer they extend to you is good enough? Where does that leave them? Ever thought of that?”

  “What the hell—“ I started, but she interrupted me before I could get further, managing to look both apologetic and pissed-off.

  “It’s not my idea, okay? But there’s another theory making the rounds. That the segregation after the testing was just a ploy, to make it seem like there actually were different factions, and you weren’t working together from the start. It has some merit. Wouldn’t you say that it’s suspicious that so many groups like yours just happened to go out on seemingly altruistic quests at the exact same time as the trade network started, and they started implementing the marks? There are still people cropping up all over the land who haven’t been in contact with anyone, but you were ready with your accomplishments and fame, new heroes in a world that so desperately needed some. Just because you claim that you’re different from the people snatching up women all over the country doesn’t mean that it’s true.”

  This time, all I could do was gape at her.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  Tamara shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “There are an awful lot of coincidences,” she repeated. “You have to admit, it’s hard to draw lines in the sand when you have the same people with the same allegiances on both sides.”

  The very implication of that made me want to recoil. “You wanna know why? Because they simply had a leg up in surviving, as did everyone else who had survival training, or was paranoid enough to keep a bug-out bag next to their door and their gas tank filled up all the time. I myself wouldn’t have stood a chance if not for Nate and his people—“