“And that’s supposed to be comforting?” I didn’t try to sound less incredulous.
Burns guffawed. “Comforting? Hell, girl, I’m the wrong guy to turn to if you are looking for that. But as your friend I can assure you, nobody cares, and that should include you. Stop acting like you’re carrying the weight of the world. That uppity demeanor really doesn’t suit you.”
“Just slum it with the rest of you like usual? Can do.”
He grinned and slapped my back. I only managed to remain upright because I’d seen that coming. “That’s my girl! No more moping. Leave that to Captain Broody McBroodface and his skulking sidekick.”
I couldn’t help but growl. “Don’t remind me that we’re stuck with him now.”
“But see the positive in that! There’s no more power gradient between you, and you get to do all the superior smirking that you want. It’s not like the fact that every one of your punches at him will also hit someone else has ever held you back. And you were quite happy to hear that he’s not dead yet just a few days ago.”
That was true. “But the reality of having the evidence of that around all the time is a lot less fun than the idea,” I pointed out.
“I don’t know,” he offered. “Watching you both clash in every possible way all the damn time is pretty hilarious to watch, particularly since I know how much you were burning to do the same when we were in France but couldn’t. Isn’t that spite enough to keep you going for another year at least? And I’m sure you’ll find something else once all of that is used up.” When he saw my frown, he returned it with a self-deprecating smile. “Oh, come on. Stop taking yourself so fucking seriously all the damn time. Hamilton is just one more asshole in an ever-growing collection of assholes that you’ve used to get ahead. He’s no different than the others. And the same is true for that Chemist, and Decker, too. They’ve already thrown everything they got at you, and you’re still around, kicking. Do you really expect that to change?”
“Except for the fact that we’re all ticking time bombs,” I objected.
Burns chuckled. “So you’re over moping about the ninety-percent chance of biting it before you can convert? My job here is done.” Still grinning, he finished his—my—coffee and got up. “Nice chat. We should do that more often. Who knows when the next time you’ll decide to just up and leave and let us deal with the shit you left behind will be?”
“That’s it?” I harped, getting to my feet. “That’s all you got?”
He laughed but shook his head, turning just a little more grave when he grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. “Me? Sure, because come tomorrow, I’ll be riding shotgun with the usual shit show. But not all of us will come, and some deserve a little more of your sweet, sweet attention. And if that wasn’t obvious, I don’t mean the physical part, because, girl, you look ready to barf the next unlucky guy who propositions you in the face. Let someone else stow away the gear. You have tomorrow morning to check that everything is where you need it to be. But tonight might be the last time you get a chance to not avoid those who won’t be coming with you for various reasons, and we all know you’ll regret spending it sulking around in the shadows.”
I knew he was right, and neither protested nor tried to stop him when he left, likely to track down that prickly pear of a wife of his.
I found both Martinez and Andrej with the cars—where they were arguing with Nate, Pia a silent, if frowning, bystander. While the guys continued to argue as I drew closer, the Ice Queen focused on me, looking smug. So much for who had sent Burns after me. Traitor.
“You need someone who’ll stay with the cars,” Martinez was insisting, the frustration in his voice telling me that he was down to grasping at straws.
Nate shook his head, his visible exasperation letting me know he had already deflected that argument—or similar ones—more than once. “We need you with the support group more,” he insisted, sending Pia a sidelong glance. “We have no idea how many will come after you when you leave here, and what they’ve set in motion in the meantime. With luck, you’ll make it to the rest of our people without losing anyone else, and get the dependents to safety. Ideally, you will be ready with new gear and support to rendezvous with us after we hunt down the Chemist. I’d rather risk losing a handful of cars than one of the few people who has the knowledge to put us back together—and we will need it before the end. Our civilians need to be the responsibility of someone I can trust. The last thing we need is to serve Decker another target on a silver platter.”
Martinez wasn’t calling defeat yet. “What if one of you gets injured while hunting down the Chemist? If I wait with the cars, you can bring him back—”
“Then he dies,” Nate said, his tone cold and very final. “Everyone who comes with us knows that we’re going in without a safety net. Besides, chances are that either the injuries sustained are light enough that they can wait or we can fix them ourselves, or we’ll need a bodybag, anyway.” Martinez opened his mouth for another retort, but snapped it shut when Nate ground out a harsh, “Face it—you’re a liability to us. Go with the people where you won’t get in the way of their survival. Got it?”
I was more surprised than taken aback at his low blow, and while it definitely hit, I could tell that Martinez took it for what it was—Nate had reached his last straw, and nothing would change his mind. I would have gotten in his face for that; Martinez left it at a glare and snapped a sharp salute before he stormed off, almost colliding with me. I watched him go in silence, and when no one else would speak up, I turned to Nate.
“That was beneath you,” I observed, more neutral than I’d figured I’d manage.
Nate’s anger, unbridled, turned on me. “It was necessary,” he snapped—and for a split second, I was afraid that he’d tell me the same counted for me. I raised my brow at him when he kept stewing in silence, making Nate narrow his eyes at me. “I’m not stupid enough to let you out of my sight,” my dear husband said—quite in opposition to what he’d gotten up to since we’d liberated the camp. “What I need even less than Decker getting his claws into Sadie or her kid is for him to come gunning for you. But just so we’re clear, I’d bundle you up and send you to the coast with Zilinsky if I thought I’d stand a chance of getting away with it.”
I took that with a smidgen of satisfaction—until what he’d just said sunk in. I frowned at Pia. “You’re not coming with us?”
She shook her head, her expression grim. “I hate to let you go after yet another asshole on your own, but getting our civvies to safety is more important. If need be, I will abandon the convoy to set out ahead on my own to prevent the worst.” She paused, looking borderline uncomfortable for a moment. “I’ve also never been scratched or bitten. I show none of the signs of deterioration. Once the news about the serum spreads, there’s a good chance they will not let you into the settlements, whatever you say or do—and I know that most of you may not even want to come inside anymore. I will do what is necessary, and I know I’m still capable of it. When we have gotten everyone settled, I will rejoin you. Until then, you’re on your own.” For just a second, a borderline proud smile flashed across her face. “I hear you’ve gotten quite used to that.”
If Nate didn’t like the fact that he was, once again, without his favorite second-in-command, he didn’t show it. There was no need for Andrej to explain that he would be going with Pia, but he still nodded at the lead car of the convoy. “If we run into opposition, we may need someone insane enough to run interference. That’s going to be my job. Lacking that, I’ll get to play chauffeur again. Could be worse. Considering I can’t run for shit, I didn’t think you’d still find a use for me once you decided to finally set things straight for good. Kill a few assholes in my name and I’ll consider it a victory.”
I nodded, hoping I’d get a chance to later tell him all about it. Since there was nothing else to do here for me—the cars all looked packed up—I nodded back to the citadel. “I think I’d better go hunt down Martinez.” Taxing
Nate with a glare, I added, “To fix your mess. As usual.”
My husband left it at a level look that was more of a challenge than I felt up to taking on right now, so I left. I had a feeling that, come morning, I’d soon get tired of being in constant danger and having to stay glued to him non-stop. Spending the evening with Martinez and whoever he’d found to bitch at us behind our backs sounded like a much better idea. Knowing him, by the time I’d tracked him down he’d be in much better spirits, anyway.
And, come tomorrow, it would be time to face the music.
Chapter 6
The next day dawned bright and early, and I almost hated to admit that I felt a little more like myself. Physically, I was still somewhat under the weather, but spending one last evening in good company and being able to relax—and eat as much as others told me I’d want to, if I knew what was good for me—helped. I still hadn’t come to grips with our impending, serum-caused doom, but Burns making fun of my momentary lapse of optimism had helped somewhat. Likely it was just my inner underdog rearing its head to rebel against the expectation that I would die very soon in a very dramatic fashion. If nothing else, I wouldn’t give Hamilton the satisfaction of existing in a world where I was gone, I decided.
I’d woken up a few times during the night, my brain too stupid to get the rest it needed—and wouldn’t get again until we were back with the others, I was afraid. I spent enough time dreading taking our leave in the morning, but it turned out a busy, chaotic, and not very sentimental affair. Between diligent gear and weapons checks, I barely had time to eat and hug everyone goodbye who wouldn’t be coming with us. Martinez chose to make himself scarce, avoiding facing Nate one last time, but the caravan had plenty more people and stuff to get ready than we did. We ended up bundling twenty-five people into seven cars, which was a lot quicker than a good hundred into more than I cared to count. As it turned out, while I had been busy trying to get drunk on moonshine with Martinez, Nate had been wrangling with the marines until both factions had found an uneasy compromise: Scott was bringing all four of his people in their two Humvees, while Blake’s five guys had to split and ride shotgun with someone else as they only had one car that could keep up with our much faster pace and didn’t need to recharge for several hours every day. I was a little surprised to see Richards opt for the same loadout as he’d used when they’d picked me up two months earlier—one Humvee, with Hill, Cole, and Gallager. After their boasting, I’d expected more scavengers to show up, but it ended up being Eden, Amos, and two more in the same car they’d used when they’d smuggled Richards and me into the camp. That left two cars for the six of us—me, Nate, Hamilton, Marleen, Burns, and Sonia—and since I refused to ride with Hamilton, and Nate insisted they had more strategy to plan, we ended up completely scrambling the seating order three hours into our trek at the first short break. Scott wasn’t wrong when he pointed out it wasn’t the smartest idea to split up according to factions if a single exploding car might wipe out one of those easily. After three hours in the backseat with Sonia glaring at me every once in a while, I was only too happy to switch over to the Silo marines vehicle, with Marleen tagging along. Sgt. Blake took it in stride, and the younger lance corporal who acted as his navigator seemed pleased to have two girls hitching a ride rather than broody, if equally stinky guys, which was fine with me and highly amused Marleen. The two of them started flirting as soon as we were underway again, making me wonder how long it would take her to add him to her collection. I hadn’t really paid much attention who was hooking up with whom back at the camp, but I had gotten the distinct impression that Richards was avoiding both Marleen and the grumbling Sgt. Buehler, who, because of her injury, was forced to go with the caravan instead. This left me the option of watching the drama unfold on the other side of the car—or chatting with Blake.
“Still not quite over how we met at your home base?” I suggested when he spent a good thirty minutes glancing at me in the rearview mirror but not giving a single peep or grunt.
“We did lose a good amount of scientists because of you,” he reminded me.
I shook my head. “No. The Silo lost some of its smartest because they were acting dumb. All of you should have been more cautious around a possibly infected corpse. They got too curious, so they got dead. It’s as simple as that.”
I could tell that he agreed with me but wasn’t ready to admit it. Fine with me. I wondered if I should ask him about what had become of Petty Officer Stanton—who had gotten infected when she had tried to save the scientists, and ended up in the same Canadian base as me, if with less luck about what the virus had done to her. I decided against it, not sure if she’d tried to make contact with her former comrades. Disfigured and wheelchair bound, I could see why maybe she’d decided to stay there. Or make a one-way trip to the armory and call it a day.
Fletcher—the navigator—and Marleen continued to chat amicably, and at our next stop I offered to switch places with him to preserve his ability to use his neck come morning. Blake looked rather amused at how ecstatic the younger man seemed, if only where he couldn’t see. It was going on noon, it was hot as fuck outside, and of course the car didn’t have AC, which left me a lot less amused. Since only the three Humvees had any—and Nate had told them to shut off anything non-vital to preserve what battery power they had—it shouldn’t have mattered, but I kind of missed riding with Richards and his guys. I would have preferred Martinez and his snazzy new ride, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Using the route Nate and Hamilton had agreed on, we’d spend two and a half days on the road before we’d abandon the cars at the outskirts of our destination, from where we’d have to hoof it. That sounded simple enough—if one ignored the fact that the destination was downtown Dallas, and the aforementioned outskirts were what counted as one or two towns over to the north.
The level of idiocy it took to even consider heading into the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex made the fact that we were all dead men walking pale in comparison. I had the distinct feeling that the true marvel would be that any of us stayed alive long enough to run out of time.
The bulk of the scavengers had definitely been smart to withdraw from the mission. That left me wondering what this said about us, the comparatively “sane” ones. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines.
“Are you going to address the elephant in the room, or keep pretending this isn’t a suicide mission?” Blake asked downright conversationally, his eyes remaining trained on the vehicle driving in front of ours, one of Scott’s Humvees.
“Well, since usually I’m the elephant, I feel out of my league to discuss this,” I offered, trying myself at a bad joke—and even got a small smile for my effort, which surprised me.
When he saw my sidelong glance, Blake gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Figured you’d be used to both by now.”
“I think you massively overestimate the amount of suicidal turns my life has taken,” I muttered. “If it was up to me, I’d never risk my hide for anything.”
Flirting with Marleen didn’t keep Fletcher from interjecting from the back row. “Except for pretty much everything you did since the undead took over the earth, you mean?”
I didn’t bother looking back as I flipped him off. “Most of that was simply trying to survive while someone else raised the stakes without asking me first.” Yet even I could see why now was different—to a point. “But yeah, this shit isn’t that outside of my usual MO.”
Blake looked mildly scandalized, making me wonder if he was itching to throw a tart, “language!” in sideways—or his version of my reality varied greatly from my own.
Marleen apparently had also gotten bored of monopolizing Fletcher, now that there was something more interesting to do. “Is that a thing you do often, venture into zombie-overrun cities to hunt for black-ops labs?”
I wondered for a moment if she was kidding me. “More often than I feel comfortable with, actually.” None of the other three said anything, but I c
ould feel the tension in the air rising with curiosity. “Let’s put it this way—this would be my third somewhat clandestine laboratory inside a crowded population center.” I couldn’t help but laugh, also at myself. “I really should start making better life choices. But in my defense, they were all built by the same people so it says more about their operations than my need to constantly risk my neck for science.”
“I thought this was more of a manhunt?” Marleen asked, her voice carefully neutral. “Not sure I want to risk my neck for some stuffy formulas.”
I could see how she’d come to that conclusion—as would everyone else in this car who wasn’t me. “I’m not keeping my hopes up to find anything, but if we make it to the lab, and we’ll have an hour or two, I’ll check what they’ve been working on, pre- and post-apocalypse. Call it wishful thinking, but I’m already risking my life getting there. I might as well spend some time trying to preserve it, too.”
Blake gave a slow nod. “It makes more sense that Miller’s taking you along, considering.”
That made me chortle under my breath. “So you don’t think it’s romantic that my husband drags me into certain mortal danger just to make sure nobody can abduct me in the meantime?”
Blake shrugged. “Ever considered getting a divorce?”
Fletcher laughed, and Marleen was smiling slightly. All I had for them was a grunt. “Since we already did the death-do-us-part shit before we actually got hitched, it always sounded like a good idea to stick it out together until that’s final.”
“Ah, true romance,” Marleen offered. I wasn’t quite sure whether she meant that for real or sarcastically, but it didn’t really matter.
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