Unity: Green Fields book 6

by Adrienne Lecter

  “What—“ I started, but cut off when blood and saliva came dripping from his mouth and he gave a series of choking sounds, his entire body heaving. The Ice Queen stepped up to him, grabbing his shoulder, but he wrenched himself away from her, an inhuman sound making it out of his throat. My guess was that he was about to insta-convert, but then he fell silent, slowly turning back to me, beaming a bloody grin in my direction.

  Pia punched him in the face, which made him hunch over as he staggered back. He didn’t try to run away, nor fight when Burns grabbed him from behind. He started making noises, part retching, part grunting, and it took me a few seconds to realize what it actually was: laughter.

  Never one to suffer being made fun of lightly, the Ice Queen grabbed his head and wrenched it back, forcing his jaws apart. She let go and stepped away with a weird look on her face a few moments later, her eyes skipping to Nate first, then on to me.

  “He bit off and swallowed his tongue.”

  I stared at her, then at the blood dripping down our prisoner’s face, my mind needing a moment to compute what was happening. My disbelief easily trumped my anger for once. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?” I asked no one in particular, seeing as the recipient of said question had just made sure that he wouldn’t be able to supply an answer. At least not verbally.

  Just as I was considering getting a notepad out of the Rover, he let out another gurgling sound and stuck his fingers between his teeth, beginning to gnaw them off. I watched in horror as more and more blood ran down his hand and face, his eyes still defiant on me.

  A gun went off next to me, startling me for a second, and the doc sagged in on himself, dead. Nate raised his brows at me as he put his weapon away in his thigh holster. “Oh, did you want to continue watching that? Because I’ve had about enough of this insanity for a lifetime.”

  I should have protested, but left it at a quick shake of my head. Quite frankly, I was too disgusted and weirded out to care, and he likely wouldn’t have known anything, anyway. And even if I was wrong, I’d had enough of so many things today… and it was only early morning.

  Fascination made me step up to the corpse, but I refrained from satisfying my curiosity to check exactly how far he’d come in maiming himself. His jaws had closed down at the moment of his death, leaving only blood as evidence. Burns turned away, watching the trees instead, while Pia gave the corpse a hard kick that sent it rolling into the ditch at the northern edge of the road. That dislodged the hand, but I turned away before I could see anything. No need to add any new fodder to my recurring nightmares.

  Nate meanwhile walked over to the lead Humvee, quickly checking that it was empty before he leaned into the front row, rifling through whatever was stashed there. He paused, then hollered for Pia and Burns to check the other vehicles and get any weapons and ammo still stashed in there. I returned to the Rover, giving it a quick once-over to see if anyone had left any nasty surprises for us. When I came up empty, I reached into the rack at the bottom of the cargo hold and got my backup shades out, pushing them onto the bridge of my nose before I ducked back out. The sunlight was still weak, the concentrated beams easy to avoid, but I already felt that itching in my eyes that told me that it was only a matter of time before I would start my daily crying marathon. Looking around, I found Nate hunched over the body of our dead prisoner, going through his pockets. I was just about to ask whether he had no shame, looting the dead—only partly joking—when his attention turned to me, a small, phone-shaped device in his hand.

  “Can you walk over there?” he asked me, pointing at the other side of the road, away from the Rover. I followed suit, feeling the skin at the back of my neck crawl with rising trepidation. The stony look on Nate’s face was confirmation enough as he kept scowling at the device.

  “What’s wrong?” That something was amiss was obvious.

  Nate hesitated before he replied, making the device disappear in his pocket. “They chipped you. Like a dog.”

  So much for my raging paranoia after I’d made it out of that complex. My throat closed up and I had to curl my hands into fists to keep them from shaking, a different kind of dread crawling up my spine. “They did what?” I asked, not because I hadn’t understood the first time, but because part of me simply wouldn’t believe—and the implications that came with.

  Nate was ready to indulge me, although not looking particularly happy at the news. “They put a tracker on you. Or, more likely, into you, because last time I checked the gear you’re wearing stayed with us the entire time.”

  I still didn’t know what to reply, and considering that we were exposed, out in the open, I didn’t want to let that scream of frustration out that was building in my lungs. But I had to say something, to put into words what was pushing away rational thought, yet Nate cut me off before I could do more than open my mouth.

  “Later. Now we need to get going before whoever else is out there catches up to us. Burns said they had two more vehicles after them that are still not accounted for. Let’s hope that running fast enough will work for an escape.”

  Or rather, that they let us get away, hoping to lull us into a false sense of complacency. Again.

  Just then a shuffling sound grew loud behind me, making me glance back over my shoulder, my body already slamming into fight mode before my mind had a chance to catch on. One of the soldiers—former soldiers, rather—had made it to the road, mouth open, hands reaching for me. I waited for that typical zombie growl to leave him but then realized that whoever must have sliced open his throat had also damaged the voice box, turning the fresh zombie into a surprisingly stealthy hunter. It was moving slowly, dragging one leg behind—likely the reason why it wasn’t on me yet. Now that I knew what to listen for, I heard them move all around us.

  So much for hoping that Taggard hadn’t turned his entire army into ticking time bombs.

  Rather than kill it, I left the shambler to its devices and climbed into the car, Nate getting in on the other side. As it wasn’t too bright yet, I drove, pulling away to make a rough turn before the first of the undead got close enough to be a hindrance. I had to go over one of the soldiers that we’d killed on the road to be able to reverse, but after what else I’d done today desecrating a corpse wasn’t high on my list of things to avoid. Just as we got back to the intersection, the Jeep joined us from where it had been parked behind a thicket of firs. As soon as the road leveled out before me, I peeled away, leaving dust and death behind us.

  Chapter 8

  We didn’t talk much during the day, and only stopped to refuel. I drove until staying on the road, even on a mostly empty highway, got too hard for me. Being forced into virtually doing nothing in the passenger seat did its own to drive me insane. I couldn’t help but prod every part of my body that I could reach, trying to find that tracker somewhere—but it wasn’t like I hadn’t done the same before, when I’d reached Halsey.

  Nothing came after us, but we did our very best to blast along the roads at top speed, going longer and farther in a single day than we’d ever had since the world had gone to hell. The second time we had to refuel, late in the afternoon, Nate and Pia debated whether to go south already, or remain straight west. I kept out of the debate because neither North nor South Dakota held any fond memories for me anymore, but I forced myself not to get lost in the glum thoughts threatening to crash into my already stellar mood. We weren’t much better off now, on the run, than when Nate and I had been pretty much limping to the Silo from what should have been my deathbed. The fact that now we had all the food we’d need for weeks and didn’t give a shit about hiding or stealth anymore and how ironic that was wasn’t lost on me. Had it really only been a few weeks since then? It felt like a small eternity to me.

  We ended up going west, deciding that it would be easier to cut down south through Idaho and Nevada rather than chance getting too close to our people in Wyoming. That turned out to be a great idea about an hour later when the radio started to blink, indicating t
hat someone was trying to hail us. I was back in the driver’s seat by then, trying to avoid letting the rays of the setting sun blind me. Nate frowned, but after a moment’s hesitation picked up. No sooner had the connection gone live that an angry female voice barked out of the speakers.

  “What the fuck have you done with my daughter, you sorry excuse for a man?”

  I gave Nate a sidelong glance, about to joke that the week we’d spent apart was catching up to him and whether he’d like to tell me something when I belatedly recognized the voice: Emma’s. This must be about Sadie.

  Nate seemed to jump to the same conclusion, although he looked more relaxed than I felt.

  “A very warm hello to you as well, Mrs. Governor,” he teased, sounding completely at ease, just as if we’d simply stopped for the night, made camp, and were enjoying ourselves around a nice fire, rather than were zipping down highways at breakneck speed.

  Emma was impervious to his charm, either because she knew him too well, or was aware that he was trying to bullshit her. “Cut the crap, Nate! Where is my daughter?!”

  He pursed his lips, briefly looking over to me. “It will likely surprise you, but being rather busy at the other side of the continent as it is, I have no fucking clue. If I had to guess, getting dinner somewhere? How should I know?”

  The radio perfectly picked up Emma’s answering growl. “Because she’s gone! Since yesterday. And who else but her train wreck of a godfather could be responsible for her to up and leave the safety of our collective?” She paused, likely to give him a chance to defend himself, but Nate wasn’t that easily baited—a fact that I very well knew and had come to rue. When nothing came from him, she went on, her voice taking on a nasty tone. “You heard that just right. We know that you, once again, managed to get the people who were trusting in you to protect them killed, or at the very least severely maimed.”

  Nate frowned, and I couldn’t help but feel my paranoia surging. Exactly how quickly could news travel in a world that had patchy communication at best?

  “Why, did any of my guys phone home?” Nate inquired, his voice definitely strained.

  “They didn’t need to,” Emma harped. “That settlement you were dropping by called for reinforcements from Dispatch. I have my way of getting ahold of news you likely won’t want spreading.”

  “To not further endanger my men.”

  “Endanger them from whom?” Emma’s sneer was a derisive one. “If you ask me, they’re much safer now that they are no longer with you! We’ve invited them to come over and stay with us. You would just get them all killed.”

  I wondered if our mic would pick up the sound of me gnashing my teeth hard enough that they hurt. Maybe her information had been wrong and she’d figured that Andrej wouldn’t make it. Or the bitch just had it out for me, personally. I doubted that she had changed her mind about those of us she considered walking, talking plague carriers. I was tempted to tell her that maybe her daughter had left because she’d had enough of her mother’s prejudice, but considering that was awfully close to the truth, I kept my trap shut. Let Nate navigate the snake pit that was mostly of his own making. If we’d never tried to rally the people of Wyoming and left any weapons for them, no one could have kicked us out of that bunker.

  So much shit wouldn’t have happened if that had been the case that for a few moments my sheer and utter resentment for that woman choked me up. Nate gave me a warning look, then did his best to continue sounding like he wasn’t about to go ballistic in Emma’s face.

  “And how, exactly, should that be tied to Sadie? I know that you never approved of her hanging out with me, and I never lifted a finger to encourage her. She never said anything about leaving to either of us. If anything, last time we were over there she told us to come back whenever we found the time to drop by. Not exactly instructions she’d give us if she figured she wouldn’t be there anymore once that happened.” He paused, but went on before she could empty another vitriolic volley at him. “Emma, I get it. You’re scared for her. That’s only natural. She’s your only daughter. But she’s a smart girl who knows how to take care of herself. Emphasis on girl, this time. She’s eighteen. Even if you don’t want to hear it, she thinks she’s a grown-up woman who can embark on grown-up woman endeavors. Give it a day or two. I’m sure she’s just holed up somewhere with some unlucky guy who’s likely already come to the conclusion that his seduction game is way off, and she’s going to eat him alive any moment now. If not for the shamblers overrunning the country she would be in college now, doing the exact same thing. Trust her. She’ll know how to keep herself safe.”

  I felt like laughing Nate in the face—he of all people playing the “she’s all grown up now” card—but Emma’s scoff pretty much did the work for me.

  “That’s all you got to say? She’s fooling around with someone? Maybe you shouldn’t extrapolate from your slut to my daughter!”

  My amusement was fading quickly. This time I received no warning glance from Nate, but it was kind of funny to see him gnash his teeth. Taking a moment to make sure that the mic wasn’t receiving, I gave him a nudge with my elbow. “Aw, poor baby. Not dealing well with someone insulting your wife?”

  A look of surprise crossed his face but was gone quickly. “That’s my job,” he insisted. “Coming from anyone else, it’s offensive.”

  I didn’t answer that, which was likely for the better. Nate glanced at me before he replied to Emma, his voice level. “You know what, Emma? Why don’t you go screw yourself?” Her gasp was the last thing the radio picked up before Nate turned it off, looking pleased with himself.

  “You think that was smart?” I ventured a guess. “If we need a place to lay low—“

  “We weren’t welcome there anymore,” he pointed out. “And I’d rather not endanger an entire settlement full of, what did you start calling them? Lemmings?”

  “So that was altruistic?”

  He shrugged. “Let’s just say that it’s something I’ve been burning to say to her face for a while now.”

  Perhaps that should have felt vindicating, but it mostly left a stale aftertaste in my mouth. “I’m just not sure if it’s smart to go all in on the ‘us versus them’ stance regarding settlements. We do rely on them to a point.”

  He shook his head, not even taking a moment to consider. “When have I ever gone for the smart thing?” His raised brows indicated that I was included in that, making me purse my lips. He flashed me a quick grin but went on. “The divide’s already there. Was since the first group of scavengers got their marks inked across their necks. Maybe it’s time for us to stand up for ourselves.”

  I certainly didn’t like the implications of that, but there was nothing I could say to contradict him. Instead, I voiced what I figured was on his mind as well.

  “So, Sadie bailed. Think Stanton had anything to do with this?”

  Nate made a face. “I’d like to think that she didn’t lead us into a trap, and the second she realized the implications, she hopped into a car and drove south, or otherwise got a message out to Kevin or Dave, who then told Sadie to bail. I’m sure she had a pack stashed somewhere.”

  The idea that Sadie was out there, on her own, didn’t exactly make me feel better. “Want to go look for her?”

  There was no hesitation as Nate shook his head, although he did give me a rueful glance. “Much as I would love to, I have to trust in her being able to take care of herself. It’s likely that Moore’s with her. They’ll have a much easier time slipping under the radar as just two people on foot.” He paused, studying his maps for a second. “Plus, we have no clue what is waiting for us in New Angeles. I’d rather not have her with us if we’re heading right into the next trap that will, ultimately, break our necks.”

  Gee, wasn’t he all happiness and sunshine today? But after our recent screwup—and the fact that my entire body was itching from the knowledge that somewhere inside of me was a chip implanted that could easily be tracked—I didn’t contradict him.<
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  “Think we’ve gone far enough for now?” I asked, glaring at the setting sun. No need to explain why I was yearning for a break.

  Nate considered, then reached for the com. “Zilinsky, we’re taking the next exit to find a place to hunker down for the night. See anything coming after us?”

  “Negative,” Pia rasped a few seconds later. “Burns thought he saw a dust cloud following us for an hour or two, but we’ve outpaced it about fifty miles ago. That should give us at least an hour to rest or fortify our hideout.”

  At Nate’s nod I slowed down the car and veered onto the exit ramp, narrowly avoiding hitting the few cars broken down there. I expected him to send me on a merry chase around barns and unpaved tracks now, but three miles down the road he told me to stop over by a small thicket of trees. It was not exactly a secure location, but the highway was still visible from here, making it a good observation point. Burns and I quickly cleared the trees, making sure that no unexpected surprises of the half-rotten kind were waiting for us there, while Pia climbed a tree, finding herself a makeshift sniper’s nest up there.

  I gave Nate a quizzical look after we reported back in, and he returned it with a not much happier one.

  “Guess it’s time to strip?” I figured. The fact that Burns just turned around and assumed a lookout position guarding the road from the opposite side of the highway spoke volumes. He’d never yet passed up an opportunity to rag us about needing some alone-time.

  What followed was about as erotic and comfortable as rolling in a bunch of nettles. That was an apt analogy to how my entire body was crawling with invisible ants while Nate deftly ran his fingers over every inch of me, checking every single discoloration or scar to make sure that nothing lay embedded underneath. Particularly the palm-sized area on my thigh where the zombies had savaged me took him some time to prod and poke, but in the end he shook his head, his jaw set with frustration. My stomach sank, my latent trepidation surging up another few notches.