Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 3 | Books 7-9

by Lecter, Adrienne

  Tanner sounded practically giddy when he told his people that I was in command, and off they went. Part of me wanted to protest, but they were already gone, and besides, I had a task to do here as well. After the looks we’d gotten last night, maybe it was for the best that I didn’t hurl myself face-first into the next carnage. The nasty voice in the back of my mind remarked that Nate was—again—leaving me to fend for myself, and we all knew how that would end. Just to prove myself wrong I silently vowed not to get kidnapped, cornered, or shot. There had to be a first for everything. And I wasn’t alone, exactly, with a good ten people standing around, more or less looking at me for guidance.

  “Okay, ten more minutes and then we’ll lug what we have to the cars,” I ordered, getting back to work myself.

  No more than three minutes could have passed when Blondie whistled loudly from outside of the pharmacy. I ignored him—I was bent over at the waist, ass high in the air, and I could take a guess what that was about; would have been a shame to have to shoot him now. But he proved to be more insistent than I’d expected. “Hey, Red! Can you hop over for a sec?”

  I was less than inclined to indulge him, but there was an edge of urgency in his voice that made my hackles rise, and not in the sense that he deserved a punch in the face. I quickly tied off my trash bag full of goodies as I made my way out of the chaos, joining him. That two of the New Angeles guys were standing guard next to him helped keep my unease down. “What’s up?”

  He nodded toward one of the floor-to-ceiling window panels at the side of the building that let most of the light in that illuminated this part of the mall. “Could be nothing, but I think I just saw movement out there. If my count is right, we don’t have people out there right now.”

  Squinting against the brightness, all I saw was the bumper of one of the cars, but I didn’t outright discard his claim.

  “Fast? Slow? Animal or human? Shamblers?” I doubted that it was the latter. He would have led with that—and while they could be stealthy fuckers, out in the open they were usually easy to make out.

  Blondie’s face scrunched up. “Not sure, but I think it was someone in fatigues sprinting over to the cars to hide behind ‘em. One of ours would have just walked up to them, right?”

  That didn’t sound good. “Okay, listen up. We fall back right now. Just grab what you have, and go.” I switched my com to the frequency Nate, Burns, Tanner, and Harris shared with me. “We might have hostiles incoming. Didn’t see them myself, but I don’t want to get trapped up here. We’re retreating to the cars. Meet you there.”

  I didn’t get a response which didn’t alarm me at first—until I realized that it was unlikely that all of them couldn’t talk right now, or at least breathe into their mics. Shit.

  Looking over who else but me might have the most combat experience, I hated to admit that it likely was the idiot brigade. Gita and the others might have seen combat, but most of them were decidedly more traders than scavengers. Turning back to Blondie, I nodded at him and the other two, who’d sidled closer, alarmed by our little chat. “I’ll take point. You“—I pointed at Blondie—“bring up the rear until we’re close to the exit. Then we switch places. The others, left and right flank. We try to keep the others covered between us.”

  His friends took that with silent nods, while Blondie kept squinting at me. I could almost see the gears in his head spinning as he tried to decide what to make of me—and me taking charge without bumbling around like an idiot. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

  “Why the switch? Scared you’ll get shot on sight if you go first?”

  Rather than reply right away, I threw my trash bag at one of the guys emerging from the pharmacy, then made sure my Mossberg was as ready as ever. “Scared, no, although there’s always that possibility. But I will be blind as a mole for at least thirty seconds after we step out into daylight, so it makes more sense for me to bring up the rear.”

  “Why’s that?” he wanted to know, patting his own pockets to make sure his spare magazines were ready.

  I didn’t care one bit for the question, but now wasn’t the time to play coy. “Because my eyesight is shot up. Upside is, I have stellar low-light vision, which is why I go first while we’re inside. Anything else while we’re at it? Like my favorite flavor of gum, or the color of my underwear?”

  Blondie’s mouth quirked up at the last, but proving he did have two working brain cells left, he shook his head.

  “Move out,” I told the group at large, heading toward the next set of stairs myself, careful not to look too much toward the windows to protect my eyes. Even so, I noticed when something ran past outside—just a blur to me, but I was sure that Blondie’s assessment from before was true now. Maybe it was just a bunch of looters—but looters carrying a jammer? Not likely.

  Abandoning stealth for speed, I told the others to hurry up. With luck, the other teams had by now realized that communications were down, sending them into high alert. Part of me felt like bitching because this entire operation had turned out as a bust, and might now end with lethal consequences. This would never have happened with a professional group that knew how to work well together—like we had been. And just look where that had gotten us.

  We reached the ground level without a hitch, but tension and exertion made my breathing heavier than I preferred as we made for the entrance. The skin on my neck was crawling, the feeling of being watched overwhelming. No shit—I had my entire group running along behind me, so of course someone was watching me. Why, oh why had I let Nate and Burns traipse off without me? The fact alone that I felt naked and defenseless without them made me even more annoyed. Like I couldn’t hold my own. But could I rely on three men I’d have shot on sight if I hadn’t been afraid of the consequences, and a bunch of people who were best suited for what they did now—lug around loot rather than defend it?

  One last corner, and daylight blazed through the entrance we were aiming for ahead. I stopped and signaled the others to do the same, trying to get my bearings—and catch my breath, I realized with rising levels of annoyance. I could see a bunch of our cars ahead, seemingly abandoned. They were a good hundred yards away from the part of the parking lot where we’d glimpsed someone—or at least, something—moving, but we’d traversed at least twice that distance in the meantime, giving whoever was out there enough time to get over here. Straining my ears, I tried to pick up further clues, but between the rustling of bags and gear, and a few low murmurs between my charges it was an impossible task. Debating with myself what to do for a second, I decided that I was done playing guessing games.

  Motioning Blondie over, I signaled him to take point before turning to the others. “Our main objective is to get our asses out of here. If you can, take the packs and bags with you, but if that’s not an option, drop them and run. The cars are our preferred way to leave, but if someone is already there, scatter and run for the town. Hide, but be smart about it. There will be shamblers in the houses, but if you hug the sides and remain quiet, they will ignore you. We will regroup and get every last one out once we’ve dealt with whatever obstacle is waiting for us out there. Try to stick with someone else so you can have each other’s back, but if you have to, you can make it on your own as well.” Why did the entire situation remind me so much of that zombie-infested town where I’d decided I had to play a hero with Madeline’s kids and ended up with Nate and me playing hide and seek with the resident undead population? Likely because I could picture him chewing me out again if I botched this—not that it was my fault. For whatever reason, that thought still made me grin. Ah, good times.

  “Now, go!”

  I waited until the last of the group had moved past before I fell in behind them, looking into the gloom of the mall behind us to make sure that nothing was following. Blondie reached the entrance where he halted for a second, then started running for the cars. The others followed, the group immediately stretching out as gear, loot, and general physical fitness weighed differently on everyone
. Cursing as my eyes started to water, I sped up, trying to help one of the New Angeles guys who started falling behind—until a loud rifle shot made all of us halt in our tracks.

  They hadn’t even bothered with hiding behind the vehicles—just hugging the building walls out of immediate sight of the entrance had been enough, as I’d been lagging too far behind to check, and Blondie hadn’t bothered with it. Swiveling my head side to side, I easily counted fifteen—no, make that twenty—soldiers in more or less uniform fatigues stepping up to us. With a screech of tires and engines rumbling, two Humvees came around the left and right corners of the mall, cutting off our flight path forward, beyond the cars.

  Busted.

  I let myself slow down gradually, which made me end up standing smack in the middle of our group of people. No one was stupid enough to shoot at our opposition, but at least dropping into a defensive stance would have been a good idea. I tried to huff out an order along those lines, but only a pained wheeze left my chest until I hunched over to get more air into my lungs—and by then it was too late, anyway. The Humvees stopped, spilling out even more soldiers, upping their numbers to thirty easily.

  “Drop your weapons and hands up!” one of the advancing soldiers from behind us ordered, making me glance back around my legs at him, still hunched over. No one I recognized, but between the helmet he wore and the lightly tinted glasses, I doubted I could have identified him unless he’d been one of the few people right at the top of my shit list. He was younger than me, maybe twenty-five, but held himself with more assurance than anyone currently around me. In a moment of inspiration, I pulled the scarf that was wrapped around my neck to work mostly as a seal for the rest of my body should I be splattered with gore again up to my nose, hoping it would obscure my features. With most of my hair trapped underneath a black wool cap—that, for warmth—here was hoping they wouldn’t recognize me immediately.

  Uneasy shuffling went through the group, but Blondie was smart enough to utter a low, “Stand down,” lowering his assault rifle so it pointed toward the ground, but not dropping it. He also barely glanced my way before he focused on the soldier who had spoken up, proving he wasn’t as stupid as I’d feared—or at least not in all situations.

  “We mean no quarrel,” Blondie called out, his voice strained slightly but strong. “Just people trying to make a living. Didn’t know this mall was anyone’s territory.”

  A scuffling of boots got audible from behind the left corner of the building, revealing another bunch of soldiers—and, walking between them, Harris’s party with Nate, Burns, and Tanner among them, followed by our third group. None of them were wearing weapons and all loot bags were gone, but they’d been allowed to keep their packs. With luck that meant still a third of our arsenal was along—at least with Nate and Burns, and I doubted Tanner was only carrying his M16.

  The soldiers marched their charges closer to us until they halted and withdrew, leaving us nicely surrounded. I didn’t try to even look in Nate’s direction, figuring that nobody had yet realized who he was, or else they would have at least singled him out. The less possibility that they connected us to each other, the better for everyone’s survival chances.

  I expected Harris to take the lead, but it was Tanner who stepped away from the others, turning around slowly as he addressed no one in particular. “Care to tell us now what this is all about? We’re just a bunch of scavengers, doing our jobs.”

  The soldier who’d spoken up before moved until he was roughly between us and the rest of our people, but still covered by the too many guns pointing our way.

  “Got a name?”

  Tanner showed his teeth in a feral smile as he turned to face him. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” No answer followed, making Tanner throw his head back and laugh. “Frank Castle. At your service.” He gave a mock bow, using his right hand to make a flourish that ended in flipping the soldier the bird.

  “Seriously?” the soldier opined, scoffing.

  “Got the T-shirt to prove it,” Tanner shot back. “If you illustrious people allow me to open my jacket without shooting me—“

  “Hands where we can see them,” one of the other soldiers who’d been part of the escort ordered. Sounded like it wasn’t the first time he’d said that. Tanner accepted it with a shrug, but still looked like he was taking a relaxed stroll rather than staring down twice our numbers in opponents.

  “What were you hoping to accomplish here?” the soldier in charge barked, having come to the point that names weren’t important enough to make a stand over. “Don’t bother with giving me that lie again that you were offering humanitarian help.” That sounded like we’d missed part of a hilarious conversation.

  Tanner kept posturing for a few more moments, but then visibly toned down the swagger. “Look, man, whatever issues you got with other shitheads, people got to eat, and they got to keep warm in the winter. We’re just a bunch of sorry bastards who went out for one last loot run of the season in exchange for a free ticket in one of the towns around. Or why else do you think we’d hit a shitty mall that has nothing but shit nobody wanted even before the world went to hell, with people that barely know how to handle a gun? All the pros already got their cozy place for the winter. We’re what’s left. No reason to go all outright war on us. We get it; you’re awesome. Why not be awesome to the freaked-out settlers who sent us out here to grab some socks and let us go through with our delivery? You’d really do us all a solid.”

  The man must have taken improv classes in his life before, because even knowing who Tanner really was, I almost bought the bull he was trying to sell. Who would have thought? And I wasn’t the only one, I realized. A lot of the soldiers had started to ease up during Tanner’s explanation, and even the one in charge looked somewhat mollified. Maybe being a disorganized, borderline incompetent bunch would save our lives after all.

  “Give us a list of the settlements you’re planning on distributing your loot to, and I might just let you go if that pans out.” Or maybe not.

  Tanner gave a jovial smile. “Sure, whatever you want.” He rattled off a list of town names that I’d never heard of, but then that wasn’t hard—except for our immediate route, I’d never paid any attention to what settlements had sprung up in the area—or anywhere, really. Maybe an oversight, but so far our track record with them wasn’t stellar.

  The soldier nodded, looking placated, until one of the other soldiers whipped out some papers and joined him. “Sir, none of those are on the current active list.” I had no idea what he was talking about, but that didn’t sound like good news. Soldiers tensed, their weapons trained more securely on us now. Perfect.

  Before Tanner could try to salvage the situation—and possibly make it worse—Blondie spoke up, raising both hands in the air as he addressed the soldier in charge.

  “Listen, man, never heard of that. We got hired to run security, that’s all. Us, and some of them over there, too.” Was he referring to Nate and Burns? He certainly looked in their direction. “Until two days ago, I’ve never seen any of these idiots, but they needed some muscle. No talk about a place to hunker down for the winter. They told us they’d pay us in weapons and ammo. Whatever their game, leave us out of it.” So much for guessing when the backstabbing would begin.

  Contrary to what I’d expected, Blondie’s claim seemed to smooth the soldier’s raised hackles somewhat. “You belong to any scavenger group?” he asked Blondie, who shook his head.

  “Just me and my two buds. Oh, and the girl we picked up at that settlement up by the salt lakes.” He gave a broad grin. “Said she wanted to see more of the world. We figured we’d do the lady a solid, as long as she’d warm our beds at night. Can get really cold out there on the road.”

  I debated whether it was worth getting shot to punch him in the mouth, particularly considering the way Blondie leered at me, but the soldier seemed to share my sentiment, a look of disgust crossing his face as he turned to the other group.

  �
�That true? You just hired guns?”

  After a shared glance, Burns nodded as he and Nate stepped away from the others. “We met at that town by the trading post over west. What’s it called? Bridgeport. Got the same deal offered as the kid.” It gave me the creeps to hear his tone completely void of his usual high spirits, but it seemed to convince the soldier. He dismissed both Burns and Blondie with a nod as he turned back to Tanner. “Want to change your story again, Mr. Castle?”

  Tanner shrugged with a jovial smile that bordered on self-deprecating. “What do you want me to say? We’re looters. We get shit people need and try to make a living hawking it to them in return for shit that we can then trade off to others so we can hire some protection. Everyone’s gotta make a living somehow, right? We can’t all be upstanding citizens like you.”

  The soldier scoffed, but much to my surprise nodded for his people to ease up. Apparent honesty seemed to count for something. “Check everyone for marks, then let them go if they all turn out harmless.”

  As several of the soldiers advanced, I sidled over to Blondie, not quite sure if I should be relieved or not. I was certainly glad I’d bothered with the patches, hoping that they still covered my marks well. It was the one in command himself who had me bend my head down so he could check my neck, barely spending a cursory glance on it. He did pull me aside for a moment, though, making me squirm slightly with the way he stared at my face. “You should maybe reconsider the company you keep, ma’am,” he offered before he let me go. Shit, had that been a hint of chivalry I’d just experienced?

  I was still debating that when the soldier turned to our group at large, donning a much less imposing air now. “As you may have heard, we’re looking for able recruits. Everyone who can carry a gun and keep up the rules is welcome. We’ll provide you with food, gear, a warm place to stay for the winter, and however long you want to stay with us, if you join now.” His winning smile became somewhat condescending. “Certainly a much better deal than you’ll get anywhere out here.”