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

by Lecter, Adrienne

  “It doesn’t matter—“ I tried, but he cut me off with a jerk of his head.

  “It does. If I’d just let you go like most of the other scientists, none of this would have happened.”

  No, it wouldn’t. In that, he was right. “I likely wouldn’t have made it back home to Sam.”

  “You would have,” he insisted. “It wasn’t that bad on Friday afternoon. Else, we would have realized what was going on and hadn’t gone ahead with the mission.”

  That, I was certain, was a lie. Maybe they would have done it differently, but Nate had been too fixated on getting confirmation—and revenge for his brother’s death—to back down.

  “I would have died,” I offered next.

  Again, he shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t have. Bucky and his men would have collected you. Did Burns ever tell you that he and the others who came from Bucky to join me were out there that night, helping along? Maybe if they’d found you, someone would have set them to making sure you’d remain in one piece. Hell, without you missing, maybe they would never have sent anyone to look for you at your workplace.”

  “I doubt I was anywhere near important enough to warrant that.” I chuckled wryly. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. I would have been dead by then without you.”

  He continued with that senseless recount of would-have-beens as if I hadn’t spoken up. “Chances are, you would have been working with Raynor from the start. You being there might have made the difference for Taggard going elsewhere to look for the serum.”

  “We still don’t know exactly how that went down,” I objected. And likely never would. Just because we assumed that Alders and what remained of his army of demented eco warriors had tried to further corrupt the inoculated soldiers didn’t mean that Raynor’s people hadn’t known about that. Didn’t make much sense, but they’d been awfully quick about developing that mind-control component of the newest version that they’d shot me up with—if that had even been the truth and not just a lie they’d sold us. I had absolutely no way of verifying any of that. I’d checked. That wasn’t part of the documentation she’d sent with me, and likely for a very good reason.

  So many things I didn’t know. So many things I didn’t give a shit about.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Nate echoed my sentiment. “Hell, maybe we would have ended up in this exact spot anyway. Only that I wouldn’t have dragged you through hell and back several times over. And you’d still have a choice to do something else than become a blunt instrument.”

  That made me snort. “Yeah, and do you know what would happen tomorrow? I’d die. Or if not tomorrow, then the day after.”

  “They would have inoculated you with the serum. You’d have been immune for over a year already.”

  “Doesn’t help me one bit if I’d never learned how to fight,” I stressed. “Besides, you’re not listening to me. That entire point is moot. I wouldn’t have lived long enough for Bucky—or Burns—to find me. You’re the only reason I’m still alive.”

  He still wouldn’t look me in the eyes but raised his head to study my chin. “Explain.”

  Me and my big, fat mouth. Sighing with exasperation, I tried to avoid having to do that. “Don’t make me spell that out, please.”

  “I have no fucking clue what you are talking about, so you don’t have a choice.”

  Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I tried not to feel too stupid. “Really? Don’t you remember how this all started between you and me? You, that fit, muscular, tattooed, ex-military guy, and me, pudgy little lab rat?”

  I’d expected him to laugh in my face. That mix between a frown and a smile wasn’t much better.

  “I still remember that after our little stay in that motel, you were walking funny when you left,” he drawled.

  Rolling my eyes, I playfully punched his arm—none too gently.

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about, and it wasn’t that.”

  Surprisingly, he took me seriously for once—exactly when I really could have done without.

  “Did I complain? No. Did I ever make you feel like I didn’t appreciate having something to grab and hold on to? I’m rather sure the answer is still no.”

  Grimacing, I tried to find the right words to make him see my point. “That’s a situation where that whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ thing applies. You didn’t need to say anything, because, like all women, I have a mean cunt in the back of my head that does nothing but demoralize me. Or had. The apocalypse did a lot to set my priorities straight. But my point is, I cared, and I hated that I cared, and the easiest solution was to go on a kind of crash salad diet thing that I managed to keep up for about ten hours or so. But even failing that, I tried to make a few healthy choices. Like drinking my coffee black, and not inhaling a whole bucket of chicken nuggets on my way home.”

  It was funny to see the consequences of that dawn on him. “So what you are saying is that I saved your life because fucking you made you so self-conscious that you didn’t pig out and consequently missed all the contaminated shit in the first place.”

  “Not necessarily self-conscious,” I griped, trying to defend myself. “But we had a fun thing going there. I figured I might do something to keep it going a while longer? But yes, that’s exactly my point.”

  “Sheesh, and there I always thought you meant me teaching you how to fight when you kept insisting that I saved you.”

  “Well, that, too,” I conceded. “But none of that would have happened if I’d continued to guzzle foamy atrocities.”

  He shrugged that right off. “See, and I’m right again.”

  “With what exactly?”

  Nate laughed softly. “You’ve always saved yourself. Back then. Now. You don’t need me. But all of the shit you’ve inevitably gotten drawn into is something I stirred up.”

  “You didn’t hold a gun to Bucky’s head and force him to turn into a despicable asshole,” I protested. “And even if you had, that’s no excuse for what he did. To both of us. Not just to me. You know that I’m not holding any of that against you? I can be a damn resentful bitch, you know that. But I know where to put the blame. And it’s not on you.”

  His soft laugh was a harsh one. “Not even for insisting on coming with you? That’s one ‘I told you so’ that I can’t reason away.”

  I pursed my lips as if to consider that point, but ended up shaking my head rather quickly. “Could I have survived that night after without you? Yes. But I’m damn glad I didn’t have to. Would that asshole have found a different way to try to play us against each other? Hell, yeah, and I don’t want to consider how far that might have gone. Stop blaming yourself, because I don’t. You always accuse me of chasing rabbits in my head that I can’t catch? Well, how about you take a page from that book, too. We got this far, and we will make it through this. Together. Now we have to, because what I did today was irrevocably hammer down that I’m someone who will not be disregarded or underestimated, so that better be worth something. I refuse to let anything Bucky did define me. You should do the same.”

  Nate nodded, then finally looked—really looked—at me again, still conflicted.

  “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you.”

  I flashed him a bright grin. “You’re an insufferable asshole that no other woman in the world can stand. Congrats. I’m such a catch.”

  “That you are,” he replied—but rather than kiss me, he moved back to lift my right leg so he could get a better look at my toes. Leaning back, I let him, trying very hard to internalize the grumbling I wanted to do so very loudly. Ah well. It was probably for the best. A week ago I hadn’t been able to properly run, and while I felt a lot better, I was sure that, come tomorrow, I would very soon get to test my limits, and how easy it was to get there still. What I needed now was rest, because there was no telling when would be the next time I got some, and what was waiting for us in Europe.

  Fucking France. That had been one of Greene’s guesses when we’d chatted with him befo
re leaving on that plane. I still remembered that. It was great to have some details, finally, but getting that confirmation meant one thing, really: whatever they had sent us here to fetch or do, it was something that Greene was aware of, so likely it had to do with the serum and the zombie virus. And considering how things had gone so far, it could only get so much worse than any of us had expected, that morning, when Bucky and his guys had gone one way, and the lot of us turned the other.

  Chapter 11

  Bucky came swaggering into the cargo hold, Red by his side, Cole and Russell hot on his heels. They were in full gear but not yet the overwhites to make them virtually undetectable in snowy terrain. “Think we should wake the rejects up yet?” he asked the soldiers trudging along behind him. “Or wait until they have to scramble like a poked ant hill?” His flunkies cackled dutifully. Red’s expression remained as stony as they came—even when he was the first to glance over to the cargo crates and found us—also in full gear, perched on our packs—sitting there.

  “You’ll have to try harder to get me scurrying,” I called over to our idiot-in-charge, making him turn around slowly. I grinned brightly and waved, quite happy with how my glove modifications had worked out. No more flopping going on now.

  Bucky’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t do more than give us a passing glance. Red parted from the group as they ambled to get their own gear ready, while he walked up to us. “I presume you packed enough rations and ammo for five weeks?”

  “I presume the Commander told you that he let it slip what his pickup plan is for us?” I shot right back.

  Red shrugged as if that was beside the point. “Leary and I have been working out a few times together. Might have slipped out that I found it a shit-awful idea to leave you in the dark until we’re all on the beach and the landing boats have returned to the ship.”

  “So you’re going to give us a proper briefing now?” I hazarded a guess.

  Red hesitated, but silently shook his head. Too bad.

  Within the next ten minutes, the other members of our team filed into the cargo hold, getting ready for departure. More than one of them eyed me surprisingly uneasily, making the fake grin on my face more real by the minute. I bet I could have picked out exactly which of them had been along in Colorado. Those lingering glances gave it away. At least I hadn’t wasted that hour it had taken me to braid my hair as I’d worn it all summer long, making sure that no wisp of it could escape and distract me at the wrong time. Now, of course, it would be hidden away under a nice, fleece-lined wool cap—that also did away with Nate’s penchant for dropping mud on my less-than-stealthy red tresses—but until we left the relative warmth of the ship, my war ‘do was in full view. And damn, it did a thing or two for my confidence as well.

  It was barely getting light outside—not that I could make out anything past the ship in the heavy fog—when we loaded into the rigid-hulled inflatable boats that would bring us from the destroyer over to whatever shore we were supposed to land on. Between us, our gear, and the weapons, there wasn’t much room left, but even in the choppy sea, the boat felt surprisingly steady. They’d been smart enough not to split our group, and neither Bucky nor Red was in the same boat as us, so I couldn’t try to see if my prediction was true that if any of us fell overboard, they’d sink like a stone and drown. It did make me wonder what that would mean if whoever that was insta-converted—would he spend the rest of his undead days in the shallow waters, trapped? My, what an afterlife to subject dear Bucky to…

  Vague shapes appeared ahead of us, turning into a sandy beach and dunes behind it. It was mostly empty, with some debris strewn around that might have come from boats or houses that were still hidden by the fog. With the wind slicing across what little of my face was exposed, I wasn’t too disappointed not to have to jump right into the thick of a zombie mob, but I was kind of disappointed to find France so… empty. And rather unremarkable so far. I knew those thoughts would come to bite me eventually, but it was a pleasant surprise.

  Exiting the boats proved to be a laborious and not altogether dry affair, but the weight—and size—of my pack gave me more grief than the ocean surf and treacherously soft sand. Yesterday I’d felt like I was almost back to full strength, but even before we’d all rallied around Bucky and watched the RHIBs disappear into the fog above the sea, I had to admit that I’d maybe overestimated my stamina a little bit. And by that I meant I really wanted to crawl back into my claustrophobic bunk and forget about anything and everything for a few more days. But seeing as that wasn’t going to happen, I might as well focus on Bucky, while Red and two of the soldiers whose names I still didn’t know were securing the beach.

  “Welcome to France!” Bucky hollered way too loudly, but the wet air swallowed up the sound better than I expected. Most of our people were looking at Bucky while Nate and Burns did their own study of our surroundings. For once, I trusted them to do their job so I could focus on Bucky instead. I had a certain feeling that interacting with him—and Red—was going to become my job. Oh joy.

  A few cheers went up but mostly grunts. There was tension in the air, of the kind I knew all too well. The unknown was often worse than the nightmare we’d all gotten used to staring down. And with visibility down to below three hundred feet, there was a damn lot of unknown going on. All there was to see was sand, dunes, and some washed-up debris and driftwood. Not very exciting.

  “Gee, and not even any baguettes or fancy cheese waiting for us,” Tanner called out from where he was standing at the very back with Gita. He got a few laughs for that, and a lot of agreeable nods. Was I the only one left who didn’t really want to do that much socializing?

  Even Hamilton allowed himself a small smile. “We might just find us some of that later. Situation is this. We’re at the beach in northern Normandy, a few miles outside of Cabourg. First thing we do is establish that we’re in the right place, and find a good place to set up camp if we can’t make it into town today. I expect that we will have cleared it by noon. Command has virtually no information about how shit went down in Europe, so while finding out more isn’t our main objective, it’s an opportunity we shouldn’t lightly pass up. The LT will collect any hard data you find—newspaper articles, video hardcopies, you name it. Cole and Parker have video cameras along to document anything we can’t take with us.” He paused, his eyes flitting to me and staying there. I was just waiting for the first of so many slurs to come, but instead he added, “And if you find anything even remotely science-y, call in Lewis. There’s a reason we brought her along.”

  Well, that was unexpected, and almost friendly. Nobody needed an explanation who he was referring to—but then again, all our snazzy new jackets had come with name tags on velcro strips, so it stood to reason that if they could read, they could find me. As if I was so hard to pick out.

  Red took over then, calling out names for teams, with Bucky apparently content to leave us stewing knowing little more than what he’d just dropped on us. Before Richards even got to calling out our names, Nate was giving orders, using the new hand signals we’d taught each other in the past few days. I couldn’t do half of them, really, but in a pinch they would do. The whole exercise was one of futility, anyway, and mostly designed to annoy Bucky—which it immediately did.

  “You think that shit’s gonna fly around here?” Hamilton barked at Nate, who only gave him the side-eye while telling Tanner to make sure nothing—dead or alive—got close to Gita, and me and Burns to stick with him.

  Only when he was done did he turn to fully face Bucky, his face emotionless. “I don’t think so. I know so,” he retorted, not quite levelly but with less heat than I’d expected. “I’ve always done a better job than you at everything. Don’t see why that should change now.”

  I had not expected that. Nate thinking it, sure. But saying so out loud? Bucky turned stiff as a statue at his words. A few of the soldiers snickered, not quite taking Nate seriously—but also not ignoring him completely. Or maybe they knew he was te
lling the truth. I was so not going to sleep—at all—expecting a knife in my remaining kidney any hour now. Awesome. Nate could have at least waited until I’d had time to test my strength.

  “Mic check, everyone,” Red called in over the open frequency from where he had wandered off, standing away from the bulk of us, close to where beach turned into dunes. “Every group, report in at fifteen-minute intervals, or when you find something of interest. That includes all kinds of predators, bipedal or not. You can all be heroes later, but for today, let’s try to keep the casualties to zero.”

  I wondered just how annoyed Red was that he’d have to play babysitter and mediator on top of his other duties, but his voice was even. We quickly checked in, then split up in the designated groups. We got the westernmost sectors, down the beach toward the town Bucky had mentioned. Not having had a clue where we would land, we hadn’t been able to study any maps, and as far as I knew, we didn’t even have any to start with. So good old checking street signs it would be, until we found some.

  There was minimal radio chatter, making me grumble inwardly at how professional this whole operation appeared to be, with Bucky the only exception so far—and maybe Nate’s posturing, but I’d gotten the sense that had been overdue, likely for years. While Tanner and Gita remained at the beach near the waterline, Nate, Burns, and I hoofed it up to the top of the dunes so we could catch a glimpse of what lay beyond. More fog, although it seemed to lighten inland. Sand, turning to grass-covered soil. And lots and lots more of that as soon as we topped the rise. To the west, a few houses were barely visible, with a road running parallel to the dunes about a mile inland. More debris, the odd broken-down car, but nobody—dead or not-quite-yet—in sight. I inhaled deeply, but the scent of the ocean was still too strong here to get more than a hint of anything else. Moving helped keep the weird sensation of the world swaying underneath my feet at bay, making me hope that my body would soon get accustomed to being on land once more.