Green Fields (Book 9): Exodus

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Green Fields (Book 9): Exodus Page 5

by Lecter, Adrienne


  Greene’s response made me focus on him instead. “I sure hope so. If you’d like to fill me in on what you already know so that I don’t have to repeat everything?”

  Exhaling slowly, I rocked back onto my heels, buying myself a moment of time to sort out my working theories. Well, there went nothing.

  “My guess is that we’re here because Raleigh Miller, while working on the serum project, made more of a breakthrough than we previously thought or was in his personal notes. That means, someone else was doing the actual experimenting, likely in a lab not too far from here or else it wouldn’t have made sense to leave a trail of breadcrumbs right from the coast to wherever it is we’re headed. Call it a cure.” It took some strength of will not to look over my shoulder and single out Cole for divulging that little detail. “What I’m not quite sure of is why we’re on such a tight schedule that they had to pack me up before I could heal at least somewhat, but I doubt it will be notes we’re here to pick up, and while most labs have nitrogen tanks to store biological material for long times, I can see why being over a year and a half into the apocalypse might make things rather pressing.”

  Greene snorted. “It’s the fuel.” When I eyed him askance, he leaned back in his oversized swivel chair, a bout of static turning the motion into three choppy intervals. “The fuel for the plane that dropped you off at the ship, and the ship also. Even if they found reservoirs that were full and untouched after the shit hit the fan—which I doubt—what’s still available is slowly rotting away. You must have gotten into the same trouble with refilling your cars more than once already. A year from now, or five? Who knows if any of that fuel is still useful for anything except gunking up the engines. We’re heading right back into the stone age, so any fast travel over long distances has to be done before the last drop has spoiled.”

  That was a sobering thought—and a better explanation than I’d come up with myself. I was sure that if I admitted that, either Hamilton or Cole would laugh in my face again like they’d done with my short-sightedness about possible radiation issues from nuclear reactors. They could all, collectively, go fuck themselves for all I cared, so I took Greene’s explanation with a nod and went on.

  “So, possibly secret lab it likely is. I know France had a couple of BSL-4 labs but I somehow can’t see anything connected to this shit being done in an official site. I’m still not quite sure how your father’s company managed to pull off doing that kind of research while pretending to be just your run-of-the-mill biotech company.” I cut off there, making myself stop rambling. Time, right, I reminded myself. “I still don’t quite understand how you could have anticipated that we’d end up here without knowing of Raynor’s invitation for me”—and I sure as hell hoped he’d been as oblivious as me, or else our next meeting would not be a peaceful one—“but you obviously sent Gita along because you expected that her hacking skills would come in handy. I like to delude myself into thinking I’m along because of my superior intellect and the fact that I am one of the last surviving people who has the scientific knowledge to do anything with the material and information we might recover, but I’m not that naive.” I allowed myself a small chuckle there. “The security system of the lab is likely the same that you used at Green Fields Biotech, and while my access has never been activated, it’s likely in their system. A generator and a few minutes of time are likely all Gita needs to change that. And my, aren’t we all happy you decided on iris scans rather than palm prints?” I couldn’t help myself and shot a gloating look at Hamilton. Oh yes, my guess had obviously been right from how he was grinding the enamel off his teeth. Turning back to Greene, I waited for his answer.

  “Gee, and there I thought I could dazzle you with a fountain of new knowledge,” he grumbled, but it was only a momentary one. Picking up a file, he briefly looked down at it. “You’re heading to Paris, more precisely to La Défense, the satellite city just to the east of it. The lab is situated underneath one of the towers, a good twenty levels below street level. As for your guess why you’re along, I think you hit the mark spot on.”

  “Why’s everyone always so disappointed that I’m a smart cookie?” I couldn’t help but complain. “I didn’t get my PhD for being pretty or land any job because I was boinking the boss. Just his brother, and years after his death, but who’s counting?” Burns gave the appropriate chuckle to that while Greene chose to ignore me. Really, this was no fun!

  “I’m sure that Emily Raynor in particular will be delighted if rather than get your head bashed in, you use it to help her analyze whatever you find,” Greene proposed.

  “You think that’s a likely possibility? I’m rather attached to the integrity of my cranium, and while we’ve had some fun moments involving light evisceration, things haven’t really gotten to the point where I was actually afraid anyone would kill me.”

  Now Greene looked properly curious, but a somewhat stronger burst of static made him ignore the point. “As much as I’m sure that you all had a great time with bonding exercises, I’m actually referring to what might be waiting for you in that lab.”

  “And here I thought it was mere coincidence that almost all of us wouldn’t have passed that weird glowy-eyes test.” I paused, considering. “Did you know that there’s something in the serum that makes our fluids, including fresh scars and eyes, glow in what I suppose is some kind of near-black light frequency?”

  Greene looked rather nonplussed. “How do you think they quick-test their own soldiers?”

  That made more sense than I’d expected. “Then why go through the hoodoo blood screen they forced on all the scavengers?”

  I knew it was a stupid question when Greene smirked at me. “To see how much you’ve been screwing the pooch?” he suggested but went on before our conversation could derail any further. “I’m sure that by now either your husband or one of your other higher-ranking illustrious companions has told you that the Esterhazy base has, for a long time, been one of the experimental labs of the serum project? That was late-stage, almost-ready-for-mass-production testing. The lab you’re heading to now? That was all first-stage alpha testing. Rumor is, nobody ever came back out who was sent there. They pretty much used their test subjects until there was nothing left that could have walked out.”

  My, wasn’t that a sobering thought? It certainly put a damper on my latent need to snark. Not quite a surprise, but something I could have done without knowing. And it offered a possible answer to another thing I’d been wondering about.

  “Do you know if they’ve had their own version of the serum in Europe?”

  Greene seemed surprised at my question. “Not as far as I know, but it’s likely that a few hundred individuals who had been inoculated were on the continent when the shit hit the fan. Why?”

  “Because we’ve encountered a former security guard who was packing quite the punch. Literally, as in hitting me heavily enough that it must have burst some hidden pocket of infection I’ve still had in my torso that then caused some issues. Was a really bouncy fellow, too.” I knew Greene couldn’t do anything with that information and I mostly dropped it so I wouldn’t have to explain to the others once we were done here.

  Greene considered for a moment. “No clue, really, but it stands to reason that if they developed something, they would have shot up their security staff with it. I presume it wasn’t a random encounter?”

  “No, it was at the conservatory where they had a safe full of papers with serum variants in the triple digits printed on it, presumably the backup location for some of the data from that secret lab.” Again I sent a gloating look at Hamilton over my shoulder that went ignored just like the previous one. Spoilsport.

  “Probably expect more of that when you get down there,” Greene advised unnecessarily. “Another bit of information you will find interesting: the lab went silent two weeks before the outbreak happened in the States.”

  I could almost hear the screeching sound of my thoughts grinding to a halt. “Wait a minute. The virus
hit Europe weeks after it had already wiped most of us off the earth.” We’d found plenty of old newspapers propagating that.

  “Exactly,” Greene agreed with me.

  “Shit.” I could tell from the way that Nate shifted that he hadn’t made the same logical jump as I had. Half-turning to him but speaking loud enough that everyone in the room could hear me, I tried to explain. “However they managed to get the weaponized virus into the damn syrup and distributed all over the US, they must have manufactured it somewhere. There’s a good chance that part of that lab was a bank of bioreactors so they could manufacture whatever they needed for their experiments in bulk. The lab likely went dark when whoever these whack-jobs had planted as a mole or recruited had to shut down the entire facility so they could harvest the virus and get it out of there. Think several truck-loads of material.” It must have been a logistical nightmare, and no idea about the details. Then, something else occurred to me. “This was the lab that went dark that prompted Emily Raynor to push the doomsday clock button, right?”

  “Must have been,” Greene agreed. “Because it was the only facility working on the serum project that went offline until we were neck-deep in undead. It’s anybody’s guess what you will find down there, but if your theory is right, you’ll also have a chance to harvest the raw version of the zombie virus. Enough to waste the fuel for one last return trip with the Navy’s last remaining, still-operational destroyer, wouldn’t you say?”

  So much for thinking about what might happen if we missed our rendezvous at the beach for pickup. Something told me that whoever was there would wait—but only once.

  “So we’re here to get what might be the cure, and the cause for the end of the world. Sounds very poetic.”

  “A heroic quest,” Greene jeered.

  “I’m sure our people back home will be cheering us on. Or they would if they knew. Never mind.”

  Greene stared at me for a second, obviously considering—never a good sign. “If the news that you’ll only have one chance to come back across the pond wasn’t enough to make you worry, there’s more. Turns out, Raynor and her people have been quite busy over the past weeks, since we last talked. You likely didn’t hear it yet but you and your husband, you’re best friends with the Army and the reconstitution effort. Everyone knows that you’re working with them, all in good faith and the spirit of unity.”

  If he’d slapped me physically, it would have had less of an effect on me than hearing that. “Excuse me? And people believe that bullshit?”

  “Why wouldn’t they?” Greene offered, nonplussed. “His old buddies. Your career before the apocalypse happened. Nobody really knows shit about what went down at the Green Fields Biotech building, and who really got your motives for leading your crusade in late summer? They all just heard you claim that you were ambushed, and then you suddenly turned up to lead the rebellion to a surprisingly easy truce. Makes a lot more sense that you’re a plant, and it was all staged to make everyone believe you were fighting for them while, really, you were helping sell them the story they needed to hear.”

  “That’s—” Preposterous wasn’t even coming close, but Greene had another word instead.

  “—what people are already believing, and with you not around to try to refute it, it’s already become the truth.” He paused, watching my reaction, which was probably more amusing than anything else. And the fucking hypocrite didn’t even sound heartbroken. “I’m not saying I believe it, but a suggestion, if you will? As it is right now, the people in France might be a lot more positively inclined toward you than those on this side of the ocean. I hear Normandy is lovely in the spring.”

  A stronger, much longer burst of static followed, oddly befitting how I felt hearing that. Why was I even surprised? Five minutes of feeling superior because, for once, I was ahead of the game, and, of course, karma had to knock me right back on my ass, where I belonged. So much for hoping that I’d have until we were back at the US coast to decide what to do—if we even survived.

  I should probably have seen that as a warning and shut up, but when Greene’s face came back into focus, I just couldn’t hold back. Trying to appear casual now, I cocked my head to the side. “Say, does the name Decker ring a bell?”

  Someone behind me—likely Bucky himself—gave a chortling huff, but I ignored it, instead trying to look for the smallest of tells on Greene’s expression—but there was none.

  “In what context?” he asked, genuinely perplexed.

  “Army context, what else?” I offered, trying for levity. “I’ve been hoofing it across the country with a bunch of whiney old wives who love to drag up the most cozy campfire tales of camaraderie, every damn night. Gimme a break. They’re name-dropping like it’s a competition, and I know that in this one thing, you’re likely drawing a blank just as I do. Humor me.” A deliberate pause. “A recruiter maybe?”

  Greene continued to think, restoring some of my faith in humanity—until his face lit up. “Might not be the same guy but my dad knew a guy named Decker, an old friend of his from ‘Nam.” He chuckled. “Never liked the guy, and he sure as hell didn’t like me. Called me a waste of genetic material on more than one occasion. Meant it, too.” His smile let everyone know he couldn’t have cared less, and that I believed. It also made a lot of sense why a civilian biotech company was involved in something that I was sure USAMRIID wouldn’t have let out of their grasp easily. Another piece of the puzzle falling into place.

  I was already turning away, my mind still churning on so many levels, when Greene’s question made me pause. “Why?”

  More static followed, as if on cue. I shot Nate a glance and only got a shrug back from him that could have meant anything. Right. Play it by ear.

  “Sorry, what did you say?” I overly loudly called toward the screen. “You’re breaking up!” I then turned to Elle. “I think we got everything we need.”

  “And more than you were asking for, it seems,” she surmised, then nodded at the guy manning the workstation below the single working monitor. “Cut the feed.” She then continued to talk to him—in French—so I turned away, which incidentally made me face the table. No surprise there when I found Hamilton smirking at me.

  “Just had to keep digging, never knowing what’s good for you,” he jeered.

  I told myself to drop it, to simply ignore him, but Greene’s recount of the propaganda scheme going on at home just made my blood boil.

  “Why, afraid who might be listening in? I have to have the name from somewhere.”

  Bucky seemed unperturbed, but I wasn’t buying it. I would have loved to discuss this further, but when I heard a deep, male voice clear itself behind me, I dropped the point, turning around.

  Three men had joined Elle, only one of them taller than her. I bet he was in charge, his bright gray eyes trained on us now. With a full beard and shaggy, sandy blond hair in a bun at the back of his head, only a flannel shirt was missing to turn him into a hipster, but he certainly looked like he meant business—as did the tree-trunk thick muscles on his arms.

  “I presume introductions are in order?” I guessed. “Since you mostly know who we are by now.”

  He held out a hand to me, introducing himself. “I’m Alexandre Bernard.” I hesitated for just a moment, figuring that it was way too late to get self-conscious about my fingers now. His grip was strong yet not crushing, a quality handshake that immediately acknowledged me as his equal. He let go and nodded at the man to his left, who shared the strong build and hair color with him, yet had dark brown eyes and an easy smile rather than a stern expression fixed on his face. “This is my brother, Antoine. My XO, if you will. Elle, our chief of security, you have already met. And this is Raphael.” He nodded at the last man, who was more the Mediterranean type, and a little slighter and younger than the other two. I vaguely remembered him being one of those who’d observed our little strip-down affair before. “He is the head of our scouts and will likely know best how you can get to whatever destination you
are headed to.”

  I couldn’t quite place a finger on what about my talk with Greene had smoothed over my ruffled feathers, but I easily resisted the temptation to be a bitch to Bucky as I did our rounds of introductions, doing my very best to sound as neutral as Alexandre had. I could only guess what they were making of the obvious bickering that was going on between us, yet none of them gave a clue of it now. A momentary lull in the conversation made me wonder if it was too soon to ask about that, but I decided that not knowing wasn’t in my best interest, so I turned to Elle. “I presume it was Gabriel Greene who told you who I am?”

  Her slight smile seemed to hold more knowledge than it had a right to. “He confirmed your identity, yes.”

  I wondered if that was a translation error, but that sounded too cryptic to just let it slide. “But you already knew?”

  Her smile grew. “Of course. You’re the woman from the video.” She paused. “You’re the one who saved millions of lives.”

  Chapter 4

  Before my talk with Greene, that statement alone would have made me want to gloat. Now, it made my skin itch all over. What was it with people telling tales about me?

  “You saw the video?” I’d heard the same mentioned from a few people along the way, particularly in the very early days, but it had been a while. I hadn’t expected to hear the same on the other side of the Atlantic ocean.

  “Of course,” Elle responded, seeming a little irritated at my obvious doubt. “We’d heard that communications were already breaking down on your continent by then, but we had another week of working internet and television, and a good two months before radio communication turned patchy.” She and Alexandre traded glances, and after a few seconds Elle resumed. “There were debates, of course. A lot calling you a raving lunatic. But then the virus started spreading in the cities, and more people listened than doubted. We were able to evacuate before it was too late and build and hold defenses over the summer. We lost a lot of good people, but we were able to save many more.”

 

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