Beyond Green Fields #4 - The Ballad of Sadie & Bates: A post-apocalyptic anthology

by Adrienne Lecter

  “So when are we going?” I ask, forcefully cheerful. It’s obvious that they are not staying here so we’ll have to make plans on where and when they will pick me up. The mother of all storms looks ready to break out above us, but that’s actually good news. It should be easy to sneak out when everyone is doing their very best to stay inside, including the guards.

  Just like Nate to rain on my parade. “We are going nowhere,” he says in a way that doesn’t allow dissension.

  Of course, I dissent. “But you said—”

  At least he looks reluctant when he explains. “I’d love nothing more than to make sure that we get you out of here this very minute, but we can’t. We’ve done a stellar job painting a target on our backs. Right now I wouldn’t even take my worst enemy with us on the road.”

  Bree agrees with him, but doesn’t look happy about it. “We’ll find someone else who’ll get you to New Angeles safely. A couple of people owe us favors, and I’m sure that we can throw around enough weight to find the right group for the job. Are you starting to show?”

  I shake my head, trying to hide my disappointment but likely failing. “The advantage of good genes, I guess. I saw a few pics of my mom when she had me, and she looked barely pregnant just before giving birth, fully clothed. Being tall and lean helps, I guess. But I don’t know how long I can keep this a secret. I’m trying, but, you know…”

  While I curse myself for babbling like that, I watch with incredulity as Nate scrawls something on a paper, and tells me to give it to Moore. I’m tempted to tell him he already knows, but since there are more directions on there than just to pose as my baby daddy if the need arises, I keep my trap shut. I’m not surprised when he tells Bree that Moore is a plant—and Collins, too, I’m sure.

  “Let’s hope I won’t need it,” I offer as I put the note away. “I don’t know if I can act like we’re a thing, you know?”

  “Not much acting required. No one needs to know that it was more than just a fling.” Nate’s voice is soft, making it very obvious how the words are meant—and I lose it, although I’m fighting for composure tooth and nail. It gets worse when he offers me a gentle, understanding look that’s so full of empathy—not just sympathy. As much as he can be a true hard-ass, he has lost so many people in his life that it’s impossible that he doesn’t understand how I’m feeling—which must have been exactly how he had been feeling, sitting at Bree’s presumed deathbed.

  I’m still distraught minutes later when Nate lets go of me again, almost forgetting about the patches. Right. They seemed like a weird thing for one of the new girlfriends of one of the scavengers to come up with, but I haven’t missed the still slightly red additional marks across the back of Bree’s neck when she idly scratched them a time or two, and suddenly, the patches are making a lot of sense. Since I’ve known about the serum program for years, it’s not something that I think about now—contrary to every settlement guard on duty.

  I hate that I have to watch them leave, but I’m in no hurry, and Nate’s statement that they painted targets on their backs doesn’t let go of me. I’m worried for them, now more than ever, but knowing they are aware of possible danger helps. Bree still looks conflicted and like she wants to tell me something else when she hugs me goodbye, but doesn’t. I do my very best to be cheerful as I return to the other side of the gate, to where my mother is glaring daggers at me.

  “Are you done now?” she hisses at me, not bothering to tone down her voice. “I told you to stay away from them!”

  In typical daughter-mother mode, her tone is enough to trigger my anger, but mentally, I stutter to a halt. She told me no such thing. In fact, she looked relieved when I told her that Bree’s still alive and they are dropping by in a few days. What is this about?

  Wait—did she just slip up?

  Eighteen years of training make it easy to pretend I’m not suspicious and instead I go with the flow and we bicker before she gives me the perfect excuse to storm off like the brat I am pretending to be. It’s a good thing, too, because walking through town gives me ample time to think.

  It’s actually Moore who tracks me down an hour later where I’m hiding from the storm in one of the freshly-erected houses that nobody has moved into yet. I’ve spent a good amount of the time since Bree and Nate left crying rather than thinking, because it’s just too painful to deal with the news. I’m also scared out of my wits, because not only have they confirmed some of my fears, but things are much worse.

  I have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to do now.

  When he asks me if I’m okay, I wordlessly hand Moore the note addressed to him. His eyes widen briefly as he reads it, but he looks less disturbed than I felt when I saw it earlier. “You okay with his?” he asks.

  I shrug, but quickly nod before he can get that wrong. “Setting out on our own if shit gets worse? I’m ready when you are. I’ve kept a bug-out bag packed since the day they left the first time.”

  He looks bemused. “Didn’t trust that we’d establish a secure settlement here, huh?”

  I shake my head. “Didn’t trust someone else wouldn’t want to take it from us,” I correct him.

  He nods in agreement, then gets out a lighter and burns the note. “Good. Pack some extra provisions. If we have to make it to California, we’ll need more food.” He pauses, thinking. “We have a cabin in the hills a few days from here. We can hunker down there and wait for how things turn out if we have to leave suddenly but aren’t completely sure yet. I’d rather not drag a pregnant girl through the desert if I don’t absolutely have to.”

  I quickly raise my finger to my lips to shush him up. Listening, I don’t hear anything over the thunder and rain outside, allowing myself to relax again. It’s good to have a plan. I hope that’s enough for now.

  15 SADIE - JUNE

  It’s good that I’ve packed my bag well ahead of needing it, because the relative peace in our town holds up for exactly two days. Collins comes striding into the triage station in the afternoon and casually tells me my mother wants to talk to me, and proceeds to charm the pants off Tanisha. Not literally, I’m sure, but it’s a slow day for once, and I so could have done without getting another of those talks.

  I’m halfway to Mom’s office when Moore catches up with me and pulls me behind a house, and what he tells me makes my grumbling disappear within seconds—Bree is gone. Gone, as in Nate and the others can’t find her where they were visiting one of the settlements on our list. When he tells me the name of the town, I realize that it’s the destination Sylvie has been headed to. This can’t be a coincidence. I start to shake with dread before I manage to calm down enough to tell Moore what he already knows: we need to go.

  I want to hesitate—or at least talk to my parents one last time—but panic is clawing on my soul, and it’s hard to make sense of the smallest things. Moore does his best to calm me down and insists that we have to wait—attention will be on all of us now, and the moment anyone thinks we are gone, they might come after us. The very idea of having to stay put is insanity, but I know he is right—but I absolutely hate it. So I spend another ten minutes hiding from the world before I return to the triage station. I can’t hide my emotional turmoil but Tanisha chalks it up to typical teenage moping, which for once I’m glad about. Over dinner, I can tell that my parents are upset, but nobody deigns to tell me anything. Typical. As much as I know they are doing this to keep me safe, it doesn’t help, not one bit.

  Collins gives me an update the next morning—apparently not only our people, but also Jason’s group got hit, which leaves me a different kind of anxious. As the news spread, all grumbling among the scavengers slowly stops—or, I should say, former scavengers, as none of them make a move to get ready to head out. I hear mention of New Angeles among them more than once, but most seem to prefer Dispatch, if it turns out they need to rally somewhere. They seem hesitant to organize themselves—or at least where I can hear it—and Dad puts an end to it when he declares one morning that ever
yone is welcome to stay, as long as they keep helping us with our fortifications, and later the fields and hunting trips to keep us all fed. The large settlement in Utah has agreed to the same terms, as has the Silo and two smaller ones in Idaho and Montana. He lets us know that the five of them have agreed to work together, and become an independent faction in the network—the Silo the notable exception to that. They like to pretend to be neutral. I understand why the political maneuvering is necessary, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

  I check in with Kevin on a daily basis now for updates about the settlements that we had on the list, but it makes less and less sense to trust that they’d be safe. People are scared, and now’s not the time for a stranger to come knocking, looking for help—particularly if she can’t pull her own weight anymore.

  Having so many strong, healthy men around is great for building, but it also creates its own share of issues. Tanisha and her two army bodyguards get scrutinized constantly, and less and less people come to her for help—even those that have been very glad to have her around just a month ago. A misgiving frown is etched onto her normally smiling face constantly, and one morning I find her pacing up and down rather than setting up today’s schedule. I don’t ask what’s wrong—also because I don’t want to pick sides. I like her—more than anyone else here, she’s become my friend, although we rarely chat about personal things. Being an army brat myself and living in a house that has always had a revolving door for Dad’s friends, I’m also very inclined to trust her on that basis. But then there’s the massive issues that Nate and the guys have run into, and the scavengers on a whole are at the very least wary, if not openly hostile toward the three of them, and that’s hard to ignore. I’m sure that if Nate thought that the army on the whole was hellbent on doing us harm, he would have warned us, but the fact that Dad made sure Tanisha or her two orderlies wouldn’t be around when Nate dropped by is telling. I’m sure she knows what’s been going on, and she hasn’t mentioned our guys even in a throw-away comment since then. I’m afraid to ask her outright, but how can I not worry? I’m a tattoo away from being in exactly the same boat as Bree has been, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she’s been targeted because of that. Nobody told me outright, but I’ve heard talk among the scavengers; if the men are wary around the army personnel, the women are the ones who always make sure they have a hand near a weapon. It’s possible that everyone is overreacting, but I’m not going to risk my baby’s life on it.

  My thoughts must be too plain on my face as Tanisha suddenly turns to me, her expression shy of a grimace. “You don’t have to stay here if I make you that uncomfortable,” she remarks snidely, clearly expecting me to be out of here within ten seconds.

  “You don’t,” I reply quickly—too quickly, judging from her wince. I take a moment to sort my thoughts, not that it helps. “It’s just…” And right then and there, the urge to confide in her becomes overwhelming, only my lack for words keeping them from spilling out of me. I cast around for what to say.

  Tanisha keeps scrutinizing me, and before I can say more, she shakes her head. “I won’t make you lie. I like you too much. Go tell your parents that I’m leaving. I got orders to return to base.”

  Caught up in my own thoughts, it takes me a second to realize what she’s saying. “You did?”

  She looks far from happy. “A week ago, actually. I should have left five days ago.” The day our people dropped by, I note.

  “Why are you still here?” It’s probably a question I don’t want answered, but I only realize that after asking.

  Tanisha grimaces, but doesn’t admit that she must have decided that staying to spy was a good idea. “My new orders weren’t exactly going against my old ones, but there was some leeway, so I was waiting for clarification. Not quite out of the ordinary that the left hand doesn’t know what the right’s up to.” She grimaces again, shaking her head in response to something that must have occurred to her. “I’m being transferred to one of the sanctuaries.”

  “But that will leave us without a doctor,” I more observe than complain.

  Tanisha looks guilty, although her tone is hard; angry. “Should have thought of that before you decided to take sides.”

  I consider objecting that the point is that we didn’t, trying to stay as neutral as possible, but I can see why the army would see the issue as a with-us-or-against-us thing. That idea makes me truly uncomfortable, and not just because Tanisha is leaving. Again my emotions must be easy to read, as Tanisha sighs and rubs her eyes, looking defeated more than anything. It’s then that I realize she must feel as conflicted as I do. Now that’s something I’m familiar with.

  “Those are your orders,” I point out, trying hard to disband the threads of anger and fear from my voice. I know that Mom never liked seeing Dad leave for deployment, but from early on, she drilled into me that it was our responsibility not to make having to leave harder for him than it already was—quite the lesson to teach a four-year-old.

  Tanisha smirks, but it quickly evens out into a slight smile, losing the sarcastic note. “Exactly.” It’s only then that I realize that her gear is next to her desk, everything already packed up. She doesn’t make a move to pack up any of the equipment, not even what she brought with her.

  “Guess this is goodbye?” I ask, hating how my heart hurts. And here I thought last year was bad.

  Tanisha nods, reaching down to grab her things. “For now.” She pushes away from the desk and heads for the door, but then halts, looking back at me, obviously debating with herself. Her head turns forward and I expect her to just leave, but she’s checking whether anyone is in earshot before she turns to me. “Smart thinking about switching out the vials,” she remarks almost casually. I feel myself tense before her words register, but she goes on before I can lie and deny that’s exactly what I did. “There’s something in the bottom desk drawer for you.” With that, she leaves. Through the open door I can see her orderlies waiting for her next to their Humvee. Nobody is there to thank them or kick them out, and I watch them drive through the gate, feeling a little lost.

  Curiosity gets the better of me, and I return to the desk. It’s empty except for a thick envelope, all of the files she kept in there gone. I look inside, my hands shaking slightly. There’s an old leaflet, yellowed from age and use—a nurse’s field manual from the ‘70s, a bookmark inserted at… assisting childbirth. My first thought is that I’ve been caught, but then I realize it could be that she was simply reading up on the topic, considering where she’s headed. There’s a lot of other very useful information in there, ranging from setting bones to trauma care, and even symptoms for the most common infections and diseases. It’s exactly what she’d leave for her successor.

  But, deep down, I believe that she knew. I can’t help feeling stupid for not confiding in her after all, but then, she could have said something, too. She must have had a reason not to.

  Then why didn’t she at least ask me to come with her, if she’s heading to one of the places that have specifically been set up for expecting mothers?

  A wave of panic slams through me, strong enough that I’m a moment away from bolting and never looking back. I know it must be paranoia fueled by the rampant prejudice against the army that’s going on in our town, but I can’t ignore what happened to Bree—and she’s gone exactly like Mary, and so many other women from the settlements. Swallowing thickly, I ask myself if I’m to blame for that—after all, she got the list from me, and we told them about believing the towns on it to be neutral. I know that Nate and Bree are smart enough to consider the risks they take, but if there’s even a chance that it’s my fault—

  A knock on the door makes me jump, but it’s only Moore. He must have seen the Humvee leave, and here’s the most likely place for me to be this time of the day. I take a few calming breaths and gesture that I’m okay when he keeps eyeing me suspiciously.

  “I think it’s time to leave,” I mutter. “Not right now, so nobody thinks Tanisha ki
dnapped me. Two days, maybe three?”

  He nods. “Do you know where you want to go? Utah’s still an option,” he suggests.

  I’ve been thinking about that—a lot—but I shake my head. “No. We’re going to New Angeles.”

  No protest, and a few moments later, one of the workers comes lumbering in, a deep cut on his forearm. He actually looks relieved when I’m the one who snaps on gloves and gets ready to take a look at the injury, not Tanisha.

  I hate having to leave our town without anyone manning the triage station, but I’m sure that there are a few people among the scavengers who know a thing or two about medicine, too. I know at least three who have been firefighters in another life; they must know basic trauma care and CPR. And maybe they can send someone over from Utah or the Silo. I’ve only been doing this for a few months; someone else will easily take over in my stead, or so I keep telling myself.

  I wish I could stay, but I need to make sure that nothing will happen to my baby, and with no clue who is making women disappear, I can’t risk staying here. This once in my life, I need to be selfish.

  We leave in the early hours of the morning three days later. I spent last night with my family, and my heart is heavy with the grief I know I’m going to put my parents through. Until the very last minute I’ve debated telling them, but they will know soon enough. Between Nate’s contingency plan and Tanisha’s reluctance to take me with her, I know I’m doing the right thing. I know that my parents will be angry with me—and they have every right to be; I know that everything they do is to protect me, but can they protect me from something that left Nate helpless, twice over? With all the connections I have, I know that obscurity is my only weapon.