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

by Lecter, Adrienne

  I was tempted to ask why Nate hadn’t hung around for me, but the answer was obvious—no order from Hamilton could have made him leave me behind, but the knowledge that there was danger ahead that prevented us from exiting sure would have done the trick. I thought I could hear faint noises from the direction of the main lab complex, but nothing close enough to identify it. Even outside of the hot lab the air recycling system was running on full, making my work so much harder than was necessary.

  “Stay here,” I told Gita, nodding at the middle of the corridor. “If anything comes through the airlock, shoot it and go hide in the lab. The toilets off the changing rooms have locks on them. I’ll check around the corner. Be right back.”

  I felt my neck itch like crazy from what I hoped like hell was just paranoia of being watched as I slowly made my way toward the left part of the outside section of the labs where I knew some of the maintenance rooms were housed, responsible for air and waste management. Here, that system spanned all the levels of the complex, unlike beyond the airlock. The flaw in my plan became obvious immediately as I realized that there were doors leading away on both sides of the hallway, and I’d never be able to establish any kind of anything, let alone a perimeter. This simply wasn’t working.

  I felt marginally better when I returned to where I could see Gita, and judging from how relieved she looked, she felt the same. I went right past her and did a similarly half-assed check on the mirror section at the other side, and decided that it would have to do.

  “What do we do now?” she asked as I came back.

  “We need to find the others. We’re at close to three hours and fifty minutes since breach. Our first countdown is up in ten minutes from now so we have just about fifty minutes left in here until the air becomes unbreathable—if the security system still works, and I’m not risking my life on the guess that it doesn’t. We need to get out, and stat. I say we go through the checkpoint and then—”

  I was still trying to find the right words when something slammed into my side, dragging me to the floor as we both rolled, the impact driving the air right out of my lungs so I couldn’t scream—

  Shit just got real.

  Chapter 15

  It took me only a few seconds to realize that the jaws that were snapping for my face belonged to Aimes, not one of the duct-crawling, super stealthy former lab rats—but that didn’t exactly improve my mood. I’d walked by his body twice, and besides considering what there might be left to loot I hadn’t thought about it much. I’d certainly not done what should have been my first move—to put a bullet between his lifeless eyes. Well, now I was paying the price for that, and feeling like I kind of deserved this really didn’t help. He—it, damnit!—may not have had the strength to fling Burns around, but considering he still had a good thirty pounds on me, that helped me only so much. That I was super fast and super strong now didn’t count for anything against something that had the same advantages, plus a healthy dose of rage and bloodlust that I couldn’t match. But it wasn’t like I had a choice.

  Our quick roll-and-tumble ended with me on my back and Aimes perched above me, as these encounters so often went. Anticipating that, I didn’t try to punch up but instead threw my body to the side, breaking the lock it tried to put me into before all our momentum was gone. I got to tear myself free with one knee underneath me, pushing up into a crouch. I’d managed to hold on to my M16 but there was no time to position myself right, let alone aim, yet it was something to slam in the zombie’s face, stock first, as it came for me again—if not enough to get any distance between us. It was right there once more, dripping blood and saliva, and all I had for my effort was a nasty twinge in my left wrist.

  Two shots went off in quick succession, the shambler howling with rage as the bullets bit into its ass and thigh. I didn’t have the air in my lungs to congratulate Gita on not shooting me, and used the seconds that bought me to properly grab the assault rifle and pull the trigger myself. The bullets tore right into its torso, sending more blood spraying, but didn’t do much actual damage that would keep it down. I aimed up, trying to get a headshot in, but the shambler knocked the rifle away with a powerful swing of its arm, making me stagger along with it as I wasn’t going to just give it up like that. It pounced, slamming into me a second time, but now I was prepared—at least enough that it forced me into a crouch but didn’t manage to pull me along. My entire side where it hit me exploded with pain but I forced myself to push through it, the instant kick of adrenaline that came out of nowhere letting me act fast. Using the stock of the rifle once more, I bashed at its face, hitting and breaking its nose and several teeth. A normal human would have reared back from the pain; the zombie came right after me as soon as I took a step back to get more room to maneuver. It was fast—but I was faster.

  I didn’t count the bullets I sent into its jaw and neck but it must have been around seven to ten. It may no longer have felt pain, but it sure noticed when it was suddenly lacking a lower jaw, greatly impeding any potential biting action going on. It blindly flailed in my direction, but a well-aimed kick in its middle sent it staggering back, finally putting it in reach of a killing shot—

  That I didn’t get to take because right when I had my rifle up and ready, something at the edge of my vision moved. Not by the door to the lab where I knew Gita was standing, likely more terrified of accidentally shooting me than getting chewed up, but coming from the maintenance corridor where my half-assed check had obviously not been enough. I had a split second to decide, and no time for regrets.

  Following instinct more than thought, I swung the rifle toward that blur and fired, sending a barely aimed burst into the corridor. I didn’t hit the thing that was coming for me, ducking low in a move I’d never seen in any of the undead, but at least I got a glimpse of it before it rammed its shoulder into my hip and toppled me over backward.

  Gita’s assessment had been a good one—it didn’t look like the shamblers I was used to. It was pale, the skin mottled with bruises and lesions but none appearing to be actual decay, more like a rash or a barely healed-over fighting wound—or what I’d had a week before Raynor had cut me up. There wasn’t much padding to speak of to the muscles that moved underneath the skin, hinting at malnutrition, but they hadn’t more than started to atrophy. All of that was in plain sight as it didn’t wear any clothes, but that was the last detail I found interesting right then. It may have been thin going on gaunt, but it sure packed a punch as it hit me, taking me down effectively. Bright, intelligent eyes stared into mine, calculating—there was definitely something still home in that almost-bald head, not just the simple need to feed.

  I didn’t think that trying to reason with it would yield positive results.

  Instinct and training took over as I used the M16 as a hard, physical barrier between me and the thing that, whatever it was, still tried to take a chunk out of me. Gita shot again—what, I wasn’t sure—and the zombie halted for a second. I used that moment to wrench the barrel of the assault rifle underneath its chin, and pulled the trigger. Resilient fuckers they might be, but nothing survived getting their brains scrambled like this. Blood sprayed everywhere. I didn’t wait to get drenched in it. A kick and roll, and I was back on my feet, panting heavily as I tried to orient myself. Gita must have hit the thing in the leg as it was bleeding all over the floor, the amount of blood way more than I was used to seeing. Hell, even the shambler that used to be Aimes hadn’t bled like that, and it had still been warm enough for the body to almost react like humans did. Then again, I’d gotten the chance to kill one of the super juiced ones several times in a row back in Sioux Falls—I knew that they weren’t exactly reacting like humans should in general.

  Speaking of Aimes—the shambler was back, and it obviously saw me as the easier meal, ignoring Gita for the moment. At the end of my patience, I swung the M16’s barrel around and sent a burst into it, making it stagger but not fall. Exhaling hard, I forced my mind to snap into focus, and when I pulled the tri
gger again, three bullets bit into its forehead, making the zombie jerk—and that was the end of it.

  Glancing to Gita, I allowed myself a brief smile—we were still alive after all—but it froze on my face when I saw yet more movement behind her shoulder, coming from that same corridor once more. She whipped around when she saw the alarm on my face, but I didn’t give her the chance to react—or, worse yet, freeze. “We need to get out of here or we’re toast,” I pressed out between gritted teeth, not taking my eyes off that mutant thing slowly stalking into the light spilling out of the lab viewing window furthest from our position. “Get behind me and start backing away toward the airlock at the security checkpoint. And as soon as we’re in that hallway, you turn around and run, do you understand?”

  “But they love to give chase—” she started, stopping when I gave a loud grunt.

  “They love to beat us to a bloody pulp as well. And eat us. We need strength in numbers if we want to survive.” I hated admitting this, but she was smart. She knew that neither of us counted for full compared to the others. I’d been insanely lucky to kill the first two zombies, but luck wasn’t anything we could rely on.

  “Okay, got it,” she said, moving out of my field of vision, her footfalls almost silent. The zombie kept stalking forward just as I started easing back, blindly following the sounds Gita inevitably made. Stalking, stalking...

  I was maybe ten feet away from where the hallway narrowed into the airlock when Aimes gave a twitch, then another one—and started to get up. I wasted a second to check—yup, I had hit that undead asshole square in the forehead, and there was plenty of blood and brain matter where it had landed on the floor. Just as my mind was catching up with this, the pale, gaunt freak also started to move, rolling onto its side so it could—slowly but surely—drag itself up into a crouch. This wasn’t right! It wasn’t fair. But sadly, I couldn’t exactly cry foul for them suddenly changing the rules on us.

  “Gita? Haul ass, because those undead fuckers didn’t get the memo that headshots should kill them,” I called over my shoulder.

  I didn’t get an answer, and I realized that she’d stopped in the small space between the doors of the lock. “I just saw something moving up ahead,” she more whispered than said. “I’m not sure but—”

  “More of them,” I offered, agreeing with her unspoken assessment. “Look, we need to get closer to the others. As soon as I’m through the airlock, I’ll try to seal it off. I’ll try to create a diversion, and then we both run and hide. We split, that way we have a higher chance that one of us makes it to the other end of the labs.”

  “Yeah, because that’s always such a great idea in horror movies,” I heard her chuff under her breath.

  “I’m not telling you to be an asshole and abandon me,” I told her tartly. “They stalk us, and they will try to corner us. As long as one of us gets away, she can create another diversion or get help. I don’t like this, either, but all the big, hulking fellows have left us behind so it’s up to us to get us out of this shithole of a situation. Any objections? Then get ready to run.”

  All three zombies were now up and moving, slowly drawing closer. I tightened my grip on my rifle even though I knew I’d have to let go of it any second now as I stepped into the airlock. In the past, I’d always felt weird in those relative tight spaces; now it felt way too wide and easy to breach.

  “Way ahead is clear,” Gita muttered from right behind me. “Wanna go left or right?”

  “Left,” I decided in a split second. Not that I intended to go far at first—I needed to know whether the airlock sealed, and more importantly, remained locked. “Okay. On my mark.” Taking two more steps backward, I started counting down, feeling my entire back light up with perceived itches as I made it into the much larger lab space corridor with not a glance over my shoulder yet.

  “Mark!” I called and slammed my hand down on the red button that would make both sides of the airlock snap closed and engage the locks. Air hissed, parts moved—and the freak zombie I’d shot in the head jumped forward, powerful legs propelling it faster and farther than I would have thought possible. I heard Gita take off next to me, but rather than whip around and do the same, I held my ground, shooting at the zombie instead, hoping that the impact of the bullets would somehow slow it down or throw it off target. I hit it in the abdomen and chest, more blood spraying its torso but not doing much else.

  The outer side of the lock was slightly faster in closing and I hit it three times as it blocked my way, chunks of plastic and glass ricocheting everywhere—but the door closed. The zombie hit the other side a moment later, flattening against the barrier with an audible “thump.” Panting hard, I waited for it to somehow grab it and tear it free, but it held—so I did the smart thing and ran.

  As soon as I whipped around, I caught a glimpse of something pasty white ducking through a doorway halfway down the left corridor, but it was gone before I could focus on it. Not wanting to get too close, I ran past the first door but wrenched open the second, finding a dead end behind it—a centrifuge room. There were labs right opposite so I turned around and jumped in there. Moving too fast, my trajectory sent me crashing into a bench, making bottles and bottles of buffer solutions crash onto the bench they had been stored above. Nothing I could do about that except crunch through the broken glass and try not to slip in the spillage. As fast as I could, I crossed the room but rather than tear through the connective door and small storage area into the next lab, I ducked underneath one of the benches, waiting and listening.

  For the first few seconds, all I could hear was my own breathing and the pulse thundering in my ears. There was the dripping I’d caused, and some residual crackling from the glass I’d disturbed. Faintly, I could make out the freak in the airlock trying to break through, which also served as a good point of orientation. Nothing from Gita—which I presumed was good—but also no sounds from whatever else was lurking here with us.

  Groping blindly for my com, I switched it to the limited frequency I’d shared with the small team while looking over the offices—Nate and Burns were the two people I’d need to reach. Chances were, Tanner would be somewhere close by. “Lewis here, anyone copy?” Nothing for several seconds, so I switched back to the main frequency and repeated, before adding, “Any of you assholes still alive?”

  Silence stretched long enough that I felt my stomach sink, but rational thought cut down the rising panic. It was unlikely that the freakish zombies would be able to kill all the members of our illustrious group that fast, and even considering the ten-minute head start Hamilton had on me, it was unlikely that he’d made it through the entire complex yet.

  Then the dulcet tones of my husband’s voice sounded in my ear, making me feel a wave of instant relief. He was speaking barely loud enough for the mic to pick up his words. “They hunt by sound, so keep it down as much as possible. Auditory diversions work best.” Rather than respond, I blew out a puff of air in confirmation. Nate laughed softly. “I presume you’re still back at the labs?”

  “Outside the airlock in the general area,” I pointed out, trying to speak as softly as possible. “Gita’s with me, a few rooms over. I managed to get the airlock closed but not sure how long it will hold. Oh, and not sure if you noticed, but they don’t stay down just because you blow their brains out.”

  This time, his responding sound of mirth was a harsh one. “Yeah, we noticed. How many do you have breathing down your neck?”

  “Three in the high-security labs. Well, two, plus Aimes. None of you cared to shoot him when you still could, and I doubt it would have taken when I later had the chance. Tried to rectify that, but… yeah.”

  “Just like with Rodriguez,” someone else chimed in—Cole, I realized after a few seconds. “McClintock’s down as well, just the same. He didn’t reanimate right away or convert so we thought he was dead for good, but he chewed right into Parker’s arm ten minutes ago.”

  “Forget the usual rules,” Nate went on. “Hide, and sn
eak away when the air is clear. The only way we get out of here is by getting out. Not sure we can kill them all even if we try, and trying’s not a good option.”

  Looking around, I assessed my surroundings, my gaze halting on the duct grate directly above me. I discarded the idea immediately—it hadn’t really worked with humans, and if they used those regularly and hunted by sound, they’d have me pinned in there with no exit route in moments.

  “Anyone wanna come get us?” I asked with more levity than I felt. “How many of us are left? Aimes and McClintock are down, and I presume Parker as well—”

  “He’s still moaning and bitching as usual, so he’ll be useful for a little longer,” Cole interjected. “No further casualties but we’re pretty banged up as is. Pinned down in two spots—Miller’s at the central hub on the lab side, and we’re in the animal wing, two fire doors down from the hub. We managed to blow up one with grenades, but they’re damn resilient fuckers.”

  I considered trying to build some chemical bomb—or a flamethrower—from what I knew must be all over here, but I didn’t remember any recipes, and doubted we’d have time for this.

  And just as if I’d jinxed it, suddenly the soft lights turned off, switching to red lighting instead—emergency mode.

  “The fuck?” someone I couldn’t identify asked, but Cole’s soft cursing was answer enough.

  “Security turned on panic mode,” Cole explained a few moments later. “We tried switching it off, but it was impossible. The system’s built with some back doors like the ones we used to get in for events like this, but we overstayed our welcome.”

  Nate sounded calm as he responded, not a thread of nerves in his voice. “That still leaves us forty-five minutes—more than enough to get out. Cole, get your guys over there ready for a push in fifteen if you don’t catch a break earlier. I’ll see that we have our two stragglers with us by then. We’ll be out with minutes to spare.”