A lot came to mind to respond to that, but I left it at a simple, “Burns told you about that?”
“He sure did.” I caught Nate’s faint smile in the dark. “I’d like to claim that I’m deeply concerned about your priorities, but what can I say?”
“‘Thank you’ would be an appropriate choice,” I harped.
“Too easy.” He continued to laugh even when I smacked him good. Again he caught my hand on the second try, and this time I noticed.
“So, having some low-light vision of your own going on now, huh?” I summed up my razor-sharp conclusion.
“Not exactly,” Nate admitted. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice any changes.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “Too early to tell. I’ll let you know once I’m sure about it all.”
“If you say ‘monster penis,’ I’m gonna slap you.”
“You just did,” he pointed out.
“Again.”
“Still not that much of a threat.”
I snorted, leaving it at that.
We ended up sitting there, listening to the ship groan and creak around us for what felt like a small eternity until the gentle vertigo of motion made my stomach queasy for a moment. “Guess this is it,” I remarked. “Think we made a colossal mistake?”
“Wouldn’t be the first,” Nate enthused, grinning at my frown. “Oh, come on. It’s not like this is for forever.”
“And what if it is?”
He shrugged, unperturbed by our circumstances. “Then we’ll die, old and alone, in the wilderness, knowing that we didn’t drag any more innocents into drama that we didn’t create.”
“Not sure I’d call someone like Burns or Martinez innocent. They’d likely object.”
“Vehemently,” Nate agreed.
“Fuck, but I miss them. All of them.” Nate held my gaze, not saying anything, a silent agreement if there ever was one. “You think it’s worth that? Slinking away into hiding, on a whim? Bucky’s the only one who ever really mentioned anything about Decker. He could be lying.”
“He’s not,” he replied, sounding more convinced than I was about pretty much everything. “But I’m rather certain that, either way, we’ll sooner or later find out. Let’s hope it’s later, and after someone else has taken care of the problem for once.”
Somehow I had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen—but hope was cheap, and something I realized I had in abundance after how the last months had gone down. It couldn’t really get that much worse than both of us almost dying, right?
Buehler was back soon after the ship had started moving once more, ushering us into one of the abandoned crew quarters no one seemed to have inhabited for quite some time judging from the mildewy scent. She told us to stay put while she fetched what remained of our gear. Stuffed right into the top of my backpack I found a hastily scrawled note from Burns, reading, “You fucking assholes! Hope you have a wonderful life!” with a series of lewd smiley faces. I made sure to fold it properly and stow it away where it wouldn’t get wet.
Most of our things were still there, plus Tanner’s spare outer gear that would fit Nate in a pinch. Also some spare magazines and ammo—but only for our handguns. As it turned out, Hamilton had been very thorough in cleaning out the armory, leaving us with what contrabands we’d hidden in the packs. Nate didn’t seem concerned so I swallowed my ire, and really, I’d get a new shotgun somewhere, I was sure. With just the two of us, going for stealth was the only option, and rifles would only slow us down.
There was also an entire pack of provisions left in Nate’s pack, what Burns and Gita must have had left from the French. We’d need that soon enough as well, considering that winter might not be the best time to start a new pantry.
Speaking of which, Commander Parr dropped by our cabin a few hours later, looking rather conflicted, which made me guess that he hadn’t expected us and Buehler to actually enact our plan.
“I presume you won’t be sticking around with us forever?” he asked, still taxing the leader of the marines with questioning glares. Buehler ignored him.
“Wherever you want to drop us off is fine with us,” Nate offered jovially. “If you have a map handy, my wife can give you a more concrete location if you will.”
“She can?” I mouthed to Nate as we followed the captain to the bridge.
“Just pick a spot on the coast,” Nate murmured back. “Carolinas or farther into the Gulf would be neat for winter.” When I was still confused, he flashed me a grin. “You’re the queen of randomness. Didn’t you tell me once that was your strength, not following military code and strategy? Well, be as random as they get.”
Viewed like that, not the worst idea. So it came that we were guests on the destroyer for another week before Buehler and a few of her marines piled into a boat with us and set off toward the Georgia shore. Since they’d already had to fuel up the RHIB, they used the opportunity to hit a few houses to see if anything worth raiding was to be found. By the time they returned to the beach, we were long gone, walking up the soft incline away from the ocean, side by side.
“Any idea where we should head next?” I asked as I studied a signpost, figuring that neither downtown Savannah nor the greater Atlanta area sounded like such a great idea. I’d always wanted to visit the CDC headquarters but that didn’t sound quite that appealing anymore.
Nate shrugged, surprisingly relaxed considering that we didn’t even have a map of the area. “It’s all the same to me. You choose.”
“So you get to blame me later? Fat chance.” Shaking my head, I took a look around. “How about we head west?” The road leading in that direction was barely more than an access road, ideal for hiding in the ditches. Nate set out down that path without further comment, making me snort under my breath. “Really, no objections at all? You must have some place in mind. At least a general area. Doesn’t have to be a fortified bunker but I’m not sure I want to spend the next years living in a cave.”
“I thought more along the lines of a log cabin somewhere by a river. Good for fishing,” he mused.
“Sounds good. Just, where?” He shrugged, still smiling. “Seriously? You’re not fucking with me right now? You have no clue where we should go?”
“I have many clues,” Nate replied, the smile disappearing. “And all those are places someone else knows about as well. But if I don’t know where we’ll end up, neither will they. I say, we wing it. We have provisions for a few weeks if we pace ourselves, and there’s plenty of houses between here and the Rockies that are waiting to be looted. We find signs of any kind of habitation, we move on or backtrack into the wilderness. Sooner or later, we’ll find something we like. We stay for the night, for a week, or for fucking forever. Who cares?” He let out a sudden laugh that was way more carefree than I’d ever heard from him. “Bree, we can do whatever the fuck we want! We have no obligations! Shit, I’ve never felt that free in my entire life!”
His enthusiasm was contagious, although I didn’t much care for how his shout chased away a flock of birds. Of course he noticed, but he still didn’t seem to mind. No mob of zombies came down on us as we continued down the road so it was probably okay. We were likely the only living bipeds in the county once the marines were back on the ship. “Hate to break it to you, buddy, but you still have obligations to me,” I reminded him, sidling closer. “Don’t forget about that.”
“Never,” he promised, leaning in for a quick kiss—before he retreated to the other side of the road, speeding up so he was walking a few paces in front of me, giving us both ample space to move should anything attack us. Ah, like good old times.
“We should probably stock up on gear,” I observed. “The usual stuff, you know? Extra boots, sleeping bags, maybe a camping burner if we find one. And coffee. If I have to live rough for the next few months on the road, I need coffee. Else I’ll be ready to kill you by the end of the week.”
“Coffee, got it,” Nate replied, his eyes still scannin
g the terrain ahead. “Anything else? Maybe a queen-size bed with an extra duvet?”
“You not being such an ass, maybe?” I suggested cheekily.
“You’d get bored in less than an hour,” he shot back.
I snorted but didn’t object. “Too bad we don’t have any of that booster left. I could do with a little high just about now.” And with it being just us, the other side effects weren’t anything to be annoyed by, either.
Nate glanced back at me, a hint of worry quickly giving way to more unnatural levity. “You don’t need the booster for that.”
“Har, har, very funny. Like you ever complained.”
He kept chortling under his breath. “I mean it. You won’t need the booster to key up. It’s a neat thing to have in sustained combat situations where you shouldn’t let your guard down, but since we’re not planning on getting into that, for any short-term stuff you won’t need it. Trust me, you of all people won’t. But maybe you should look into building a habit of meditating each day.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I complained, momentarily stopping to investigate a heap of rags by the side of the road. Months old, I decided, and of no interest whatsoever. “Both.”
Nate sighed as if he was already sorry to have said anything. “You do realize that the serum works fueled by strong emotions, right?”
“Duh.”
“And would I be so wrong if I said that you’re a woman possessing a rather fiery disposition?”
That made me snort. “Did you just call me a raging bitch?”
His momentary silence was insulting enough but his words mollified me somewhat. “Do you hear me complaining? But you’ve felt the effects of it yourself now. The booster makes it easier to remove the shackles around your anger, but it’s a tool, not a necessity. Remember how stir crazy you got last year on the road? And that was with many other people around to distract you. Now it’s just you and me. Maybe learning to find a way to put a damper—or at least some shackles—on your temper might be worth a thought.”
“Or we could just have sex until we’re both exhausted and I’ve forgotten all about why I felt the need to beat you up in the first place?”
“Or we could do that,” he agreed, laughing. “Or you could pick up something like Tai Chi. Or hunting with bow and arrow. Fishing.”
“I still like my idea best.”
“Of course you do.”
“Like you’re complaining.”
“I’m not complaining, I’m pointing out that we have all the time in the world, and all options are open to us.”
“Including sex.”
He groaned but I could tell that he was still smiling—and so was I.
Sure, my heart was heavy with the knowledge that setting out on our own wasn’t the ideal solution. It killed me to know that our friends and loved ones had no idea of where we were, or whether we were still alive—and the reverse was true as well. But it was a solution, and for right now, it was the solution. And when things changed, well—I’d learned to adapt to many things. I was sure that I’d take whatever may come in stride. Because giving up? Now that wasn’t a solution at all.
Acknowledgments
You know the drill, right? Let’s get this party started!
This book wouldn’t be what it is today without my wonderful editor and amazing beta readers! You rock! And deserve some extra bacon! Also you, gentle reader, who you keep me happy and motivated, and all around doing this here writing thing! Last but not least, the guy who brings me my bulletproof coffee every morning, and has yet to complain about me ranting at my plot lines not behaving as they should.
Exodus was a blast to write—when it wasn’t strangling me. Some books get written with consistency. This was not one of those. Either there were thousands of words of progress, or none. I wrote a huge chunk of it with my self-imposed deadline breathing down my neck, knowing I wouldn’t finish it before my vacation. Not only did I finish it, but with enough time to spare to do the preliminary proofreading so I could send it to my editor and beta readers—with a day to spare. Took me half of my vacation to get off that super productive high, but so worth it in the end. I hope you agree. I sure had a lot of fun writing the second half of the book in one huge weeks-spanning session. I wish I could keep up that speed but let’s be real—I’d go insane, and who knows what would happen then?
I also, finally, am ready to announce a new project: I’m now on Patreon! Patreon is a crowd-funding site for artists where fans can support their favorite creators. I’m doing a monthly subscription kind of thing. Depending on your level of support, you get updates, teasers, short stories, and behind-the-scenes info there. The first short story (well, really, novella. It ran a little long) is already available there—the prequel to the series, how Bree and Nate met, told from alternating points-of-view. Let’s just say that Nate really didn’t know what was going to hit him! If you want to, you can check it out there!
https://www.patreon.com/adriennelecter
What’s up next? The remaining three books of the Green Fields series! 12 is such a lovely number for a series, and that’s what I’m going for. I’ve actually already started on #10, rejoice!
Again, thank you so much for being the best audience any writer could wish for! If you have a moment, why not leave a review on amazon for the book? Reviews are an amazing way for readers to support Indie authors. Every single one counts, even if it’s just to say you enjoyed the book and can’t wait for the next one! THANK YOU!
Thank you!
Hey, you! Yes, you, who just spent a helluva lot of time reading this book! You just made my day! Thanks!
Want to be notified of new releases and updates? Sign up for my newsletter:
http://eepurl.com/bw3CBf
As of August 2018, I’m on Patreon, a crowd-funding platform where you, the reader, can support us, the artists. I’m posting updates, exclusive short stories, and behind-the-scenes notes every month—why not check it out?
https://www.patreon.com/adriennelecter
If you enjoyed reading the book and have a moment to spare, I would really appreciate a short, honest review on the site you purchased it from. Reviews make a huge difference in helping new readers find the series. Seriously, they do. Wanna make a difference? Now you know how you can!
Or if you’d like to drop me a note, or chat a bit, feel free to email me or hit me up on social media. I’ll try to respond as quickly as possible!
Email: [email protected]
Website: adriennelecter.com
Twitter: @AdrienneLecter
Facebook: facebook.com/adriennelecter
Patreon: patreon.com/adriennelecter
Patreon
Love the books? Can’t get enough of them? Need something to fill the void until the next one is out? Maybe fancy a few outtakes, short stories, and behind-the-scenes information? I have just the thing for you! I’m now on Patreon where I post exclusive content on a monthly basis—starting with the Prequel, of how everything began between Bree and Nate, before that fateful Friday that they met again at the coffee vending machine in the Green Fields Biotech atrium. Here’s a quick teaser for you!
Here’s a little teaser for you:
I absolutely don’t get what my brother saw in her. Dr. Brianna Lewis, Bree to her friends, cutie pie to her girlfriend. She’s so not his type.
I allow myself a momentary smirk at reducing a woman whose academic credentials are longer than her name to her appearance. I’m sure she must love that whenever it happens.
Of course, my brother’s interest in her started—and presumably ended, as well—with her intellect. I’ve read her dissertation and all of the scientific publications that she has to her name, but understanding is a different thing. That’s why she has a PhD, and I’m the product of the research she was hired to work on—presumably. That I can’t say this with certainty has been irking me for months.
What I can say for sure is that Dr. Lewis is one thing above all else: b
oring as fuck.
Find out more on Patreon!
About the Author
Adrienne Lecter has a background in Biochemistry and Molecular Biology, loves ranting at inaccuracies in movies, and spends increasingly more time at the shooting range. She lives with the man and two cats of her life in Vienna, Austria and is working on the books of a new series.
The best place to connect is the Fan Group on facebook! Join and say hi!
You can sign up for Adrienne’s newsletter to never miss a release and be the first to know what other shenanigans she gets up to:
http://eepurl.com/bw3CBf
Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 3 | Books 7-9 Page 104