Green Fields: Incubation

by Adrienne Lecter

  “I need another volunteer,” he addressed his hostages in general, but there must have been a reason why he looked at no one else but me.

  I stared back, trying to pack all the contempt and revulsion I felt for him into my gaze, but he looked unconcerned. No, actually he started to smile, which was ten times more creepy. That man had the worst sense of humor, and I had the sinking feeling that I'd soon get to see a whole lot more of it—of the real him, because that wasn’t a side I recognized from before today.

  “Anyone?” He cast a token look around, but as no one else would meet his gaze, he was all too soon back to focusing on me.

  “Why, getting bored? Wasn’t watching a woman kill herself because she thought that was her only way to avoid getting tortured entertainment enough for you?” I ground out. This time I even sounded pissed off and less like a scared little girl.

  The wry twist coming to his lips made that smile almost genuine, and thus so much worse.

  “It gets old after a while,” he replied. I didn't move as he turned around and walked back out of the cube. Only then did it occur to him that he was on his own, and a hint of annoyance flitted across his face as he glanced back to me. “Make no mistake, you are coming with me. If I have to drag you out kicking and screaming, that's all the same to me.”

  “So you'll do it yourself, not let two of your flunkies handle me again? Are you no longer afraid I might crease your suit jacket or something?”

  The look he gave me was absolutely unreadable, but as his pose remained laid back and relaxed, my jibe must have failed to hit the target. Not much of a surprise, really. Whatever had happened between his flunkies didn’t seem to have rattled him much, and he’d barely had more than a whispered curse under his breath for Thecla.

  “Do you want me to force you everywhere at gunpoint? I have no moral objections to that, besides looking utterly ridiculous. If you couldn't tell, let me state this in explicit terms. I am trying to be civil. If you have no intention of repaying the favor, there's no need for me to continue behaving this way. Do you really want a glimpse at what lurks underneath once the kid gloves come off?”

  I almost sputtered at the implication that so far he'd tried to make things easy for me, but my mind proved that, deep down, it was capable of procuring some sense of self-preservation, making me shut up before I could do more than inhale deeply.

  There was no use in provoking him. If he was going to kill me next, I could do nothing to stop him, but cooperating might go a long way toward not spending my last minutes in terrible agony.

  Getting to my feet slowly, I did my best to walk out of the cube with my head held high.

  I was going to survive this, I was going to survive—

  I was almost out the door when Greene reached for my lab coat and brought me to a momentary halt. When I glanced down instinctively, he bared his teeth at me in a perverse imitation of a smile.

  “Have fun getting gang-raped, girlie.”

  That was the last thing I'd expected him to say, although I should have known better by now. Consequently, I had to abandon my no-talking-back policy.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hissed, only to get laughed at in the face.

  I tried hard to feel morally superior as I stalked out of the cube, but the best I could hope for was probably looking like a bristling cat.

  When I stepped up to him, Nate gestured toward the corridor leading deeper into the middle part of the building, and I fell into step beside him. Four of his men followed but at a distance; apparently my stunts warranted some kind of extended supervision, or he just liked to bring yet more muscle with him to intimidate me. That Greene could be right, I didn't even consider for a moment. Glancing sideways at Nate, I couldn't help but think of the notion as ridiculous. He seemed like many things, but not like a rapist. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t already gotten that from me with my full consent.

  At the door to the corridor he got out a flashlight and turned it on, forcing me to keep abreast with him if I wanted to see what possible pitfalls were lurking on the floor. Here, things didn't look any less chaotic than in the wing where I'd been spending most of the day before my untimely capture. The strobes of light the guards were directing barely touched my heels.

  We walked in silence until we reached a staircase, then went up two floors. He still seemed relaxed, but I couldn't help getting jittery as adrenaline pushed my heart rate up steadily. I caught him looking at me out of the corner of his eye a couple of times, but he did nothing to initiate conversation. For what it was worth, he seemed to be taking a late night stroll through the building, never mind the chaos his troops had left.

  I’d thought boredom was bad before, but I’d clearly been wrong. If this went on for much longer, I was going to have a meltdown!

  As if he had read my thoughts—which probably wasn't that much of a feat, jumpy as I was—Nate stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned to face me, the beam of his flashlight hitting my knees. There was just enough illumination to see his face, but not read the look on it clearly.

  “What I don't understand is why you take every single bite of bait that he leaves for you. You must be aware that your intellect is substantially superior to his, and any woman should have enough pride to see what a weak scumbag Gabriel Greene is. What is your excuse for letting him lead you along as if he'd put a leash around your neck?”

  The accusation stung, although I wasn't even sure if he meant it as such. Maybe his observation felt like that because I silently agreed with him. That didn't mean that I was ready to give him the answer he was looking for.

  “Why, annoyed that he gets more rises out of me than you do?”

  Even in the gloom I saw that his smile was a real one.

  “I admit, that rankles somewhat, although I consider myself far enough above him that anything concerning him is nothing I see as a serious insult. Will you answer my question now?”

  “Why should I?” I questioned.

  Now that smile turned cocky.

  “Maybe because you’ve long ago realized just how much I enjoy our banter, and common sense tells you that it’s in your best interest to remain in my good graces?”

  That came as a real surprise, and not exactly a pleasant one.

  “Don’t you think that if that was my main concern, I’d just tear off my clothes and jump you?”

  One of the guards snickered, and the sound was so familiar that I recognized it as Andrej's. Why having him along was kind of soothing to me, I really couldn't say, but it helped me lose some of the tension that made my shoulders ache. It did nothing for the fierce burn in my cheeks, though.

  Nate shrugged, smiling faintly now, and nodded for us to resume our walk who knew where to. This time I didn't resist. Even I knew what battles were worth fighting, and which weren't.

  “There’s always that,” he replied, and that lopsided grin was so achingly familiar that it made something inside of me break, followed by a deluge of self-loathing. Mostly to change tracks, I chose to give him that answer if he really wanted it.

  “Stress, I guess. Might be the by-product of getting chased through air ducts, shot at, and incarcerated.”

  “So your natural reaction to getting pushed is to push back? You do realize that if he snaps, you're going to bear the brunt of every single offense you offer him?”

  That had occurred to me, but I'd avoided thinking about it in more detail. As much as Greene was barking up my tree, there was a huge difference between stupid bravado and setting action to his words. I’d known guys like him all of my life—they were all talk, and nothing much behind it.

  “I don't think it will come to that,” I offered.

  “Because you're such an amicable person who can talk herself out of a tight corner?”

  “No, because he's a coward. It's easy to verbally abuse the weakest link in a chain, but taking action would mean he sets himself up for possible failure. I don't think he's that stupid.”

  “As
things are right now? I agree with you. But if you keep pushing, he's bound to push back, and he will reach his breaking point well before you.”

  That statement made me pause. Just because he was a violent lunatic didn't mean that Nate might not be a good observer. I'd never really been good at judging people's character—case in point.

  “And you are telling me this why? Wait, let me guess. Next you'll offer to play my knight in shining armor and rescue me from the big bad wolf?”

  His snort held a bit of condescension.

  “You shouldn't mix your idioms. It subtracts from the intelligent assessment your statement is based on.”

  “Which means?”

  He looked at me sideways as he stepped around an overturned cart.

  “Sometimes it is better to say outright what you mean.”

  “Would you do me that very same courtesy? After lying to me for weeks?”

  He paused, wincing, then shrugged as if it was all the same to him.

  “Let's talk shop then, shall we? Yes, I can offer you protection. I would even offer you money if I believed you'd be susceptible to bribes. Sadly for me, I know that it wouldn’t work. You're that stubborn kind of idealistic person who does what is right rather than what is best for her. You help me, I make sure that Greene doesn't get anywhere near you. Deal?”

  My mind screamed at me to not even consider it, particularly as it was a rather vague suggestion, but I didn't want to prove what sounded a lot like an accusation true again.

  “And by 'help' I guess you mean more than the cooperation you've demanded from all of your hostages?”

  He inclined his head.

  “A lot more than that, yes. Think about it for a while. For now, we've reached our destination.”

  I looked stupidly at him, then over to where he directed his flashlight. We'd stopped in front of a bank of vending machines, all shut off because of the lack of electricity. Just seeing them made me shrink back a step, alarm going off in the back of my mind. Ignoring my reaction, Andrej stepped around us and got out a key, opening the doors of the four machines. I bet it wasn't even a copy, but a bona fide maintenance key used for restocking the machines every day.

  Nate got out a huge, black plastic trash bag and handed it to me.

  “Your glorious task is to forage food for your fellow compatriots to eat. Not exactly a beacon of healthy nutrition, but I expect that most of you have been living off this kind of diet for extended periods of time. A couple of hours more won't kill you.”

  I stared at him for a few rushed heartbeats, then took the bag and went to work filling it without a word of protest, but my mind was screaming at me to stop. The urge to grab a candy bar and stuff my face should have been so strong that my stomach convulsed in anticipation, but the imaginary stench of burning flesh was back in my nose, making me want to retch instead. It was easy to tell myself that my fear was irrational, that my observation must have been pure coincidence. Also, Nate was right—tens, if not hundreds of people must have eaten from these machines, and last time I looked, no one had turned into an insta-cannibal yet.

  The sack was two thirds full by the time I got the last two previously refrigerated, pre-packaged sandwiches out of the machines, my eyes lingering embarrassingly long on them as I dumped them inside. When I looked up at Nate again, I saw him smirk right back at me.

  “Just how long has it been since you last ate something?”

  At first, I didn't want to reply, but there really was no sense in holding that information back.

  “Five-thirty in the morning. That's when I got up and grabbed a banana and some leftovers from dinner.”

  “The breakfast of champions,” he scoffed, then nodded at the bag. “C’mon, eat something. You must be starving.”

  I held his gaze for a second, my fingers tightening around the heavy plastic of the bag.

  “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

  His eyes narrowed a fraction, and I caught him sending a look to Andrej over my shoulder.

  “If it’s because of your friend—“

  The condescension in his voice made my hackles rise, but I forced myself not to betray my ire.

  “Wouldn’t you know it, most people don’t get hungry when they watch someone blow themselves up. Besides, I can’t stand this sorry excuse for chocolate.”

  Nate seemed to weigh my words for a longer time than was warranted before he gave a curt nod and signaled for me to start walking back the way we had come. Three hallways over, we took another turn, this one deviating from the way we'd used before. When he saw me look down the other corridor, he explained.

  “We're swinging by the cafeteria. There should be some fruit and salad left.”

  It was then that I could finally pinpoint our exact location.

  “Should it worry me that you know your way around here better than I do?”

  “That was rather obvious from your flight this afternoon. Are you aware that you could have made it a lot harder for us to find you if you'd taken any other way than the one you did?”

  I fixed him with a glare but chose to think about my reply before I offered it.

  “Considering that my mind is mostly occupied with science while you infiltrate buildings and detonate their entrances, I think that's one of the obvious consequences.”

  I didn't know whether I deserved the laugh I got, and I certainly didn't like how I wanted to preen that I'd gotten it out of him. I was obviously losing my mind.

  We walked on in silence until we hit the next intersection, where two of the four guards left us. I looked after them questioningly, and Nate was only too happy to comment on that, too.

  “You didn't really think that any of us considered so much manpower necessary to hold you in check? I alone would be more than enough to subdue you should you get any stupid ideas into your head. You know that I’m physically capable of it.”

  “You think?” I asked, sarcasm heavy in my voice. He studied me as if he thought I was serious, then narrowed his eyes at me.

  “That is exactly what I was referring to before we got to the machines.”

  I tried to remember what that had been about, but the promise of food had short-circuited my memory.

  “You mean that my smart mouth will get me in trouble if I don't take your gracious offer and betray everything I believe in?”

  I really didn't like his smile now, feral as it got.

  “What you think of as irony sounds more like the yapping of a Chihuahua next to the bark of a proper dog. As I've already told you, you don't know all there is to know. You should wait before you get all high and mighty on my ass.”

  “Why not enlighten me now if I'm so ignorant? I know that you’ve infiltrated this organization on all levels. The thing with the snipers on the roof proved that you have the police in your pocket, too.” Pausing, I wondered if I should let that point slide, but then chose to surge forward. Maybe if he finally behaved like a real ass to me, I could just cut out that piece of me that still had issues trying to get over him. “I’m not sure how much Hollywood productions deviate from real life contingency plans, but the building should have been surrounded by police right now. Or the national guard, considering that you caved in all the entrances. Sure, you hit the jackpot with that flu epidemic, but it simply makes no sense that no one should have noticed that we’ve been off the grid for hours now.”

  His answering smile told me that he was mostly humoring me and not taking me very seriously.

  “It took me almost two years to plan this operation. Trust me, even if we’d take the entire weekend, no one would come looking for us.”

  “But why? Why do this? Why—” Why force a woman to commit suicide? But that part I didn’t add.

  He considered for a moment, but then shook his head.

  “Soon. With no evidence to show you, you wouldn't believe me, and I don't have that much time to waste at hand. You'll get your chance to see what I mean if you truly want to. I hope for your sake that you'll do
the smart thing then.”

  We continued on toward the cafeteria, down another staircase that I was sure I'd never even seen, let alone used. Mulling over his words, something else he'd said picked at my brain.

  “You really do think that you're a better person than Greene? He might be a douchebag, but he has yet to drive someone into ending their own life.”

  I was surprised that his shoulders tensed at that, but when he rounded on me, I realized that it wasn't because of my jibe of what he'd done to Thecla. Heck, for all I knew, he still thought he could wash his hands clean of that.

  “Don’t compare me to that miserable excuse of a man. There's a clear hierarchy of predators out there, and the lowlife who thinks he's a big guy because he can rape women is just a step above those who violate children. I'm in an entirely different sphere than he is.”

  Interesting assessment, but I kept that to myself. Why I couldn't keep it at that, I didn't know, but likely the same weird wiring in my brain that made me flare up at Greene made it impossible not to goad Nate on. With him, at least I felt safe to do so.

  “So it has never crossed your mind to take advantage of a hapless woman?”

  Vitriol was sparking from his eyes, but his voice sounded surprisingly sweet. Of course he was making fun of me, but still.

  “You mean like drag you into the next suitably clean room and have my wicked way with you up against the wall? Like in that motel, down on I-79?”

  Suddenly, he was standing way too close to me, and breathing got uncomfortably hard. My mind screamed at me to back down, but instead of doing the sane thing, I leaned closer until we were almost touching.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  He smiled, a wide, welcoming, almost charming smile that was freaking me out because it looked genuine for a second before his eyes hardened, making me feel like an insect under scrutiny. I’d seen that smile enough times before to know that it usually turned into something else. Had it all really just been pretense? And for what? Just to screw with me? Literally?

  “No, that thought has never crossed my mind.” He let that settle in, then stepped away, giving me room to breathe. When he resumed talking, his tone had dropped back to normal, casual even. “I've never seen the supposed power in a man forcing himself on a woman. Take yourself. Unless you have a black belt in a martial arts discipline that is vastly superior to the handful I've mastered, it’s highly unlikely that you could even hope to best me in a fair fight. You're shorter, lighter, your physical fitness level is lower than mine, and your reflexes aren't trained. I'm not stating this to put you down. It is a simple fact that I've trained for this mission for the past year and a half while you've been busy saving the world one cell culture dish at a time. How would it empower me to overpower you when we are so unevenly matched?”