Green Fields (Book 10): Uprising:

by Lecter, Adrienne

  The lack of guards was easily explained once I got a better look at the palisade as I drew closer. It was manned with several people walking the perimeter between three established guard houses that I could see, and several more that I could guess at, plus two right and left of the—right now securely barred—gate. A few continued their circuit but several stopped to keep track of my progress. I could only guess at how bemused they must have been to see anyone come down that road on a bicycle.

  None of them shot at me, so that felt like a win.

  I sure as hell was glad to stagger off that damn contraption of a vehicle, trying not to fall flat on my face. My back and legs were aching but none too happy to have to support my weight now that I was back on earth where I belonged. My body was in dire need of sustenance, and still way too hot. All that mixed with more than just a hint of trepidation—not the most ideal circumstances. I still did my humanly best to appear confident yet calm as I looked up at the guards and waved. Nobody guns down whimsically funny girls, right?

  “Hey there!”

  “Hey there, yourself,” one of the men called down, a bemused look on his face. He seemed friendly enough. “It’s been a while since anyone chose to show up on a bike.”

  “But that did happen before?” I would have been lying if I’d said I wasn’t surprised.

  “Now that you mention it, no,” the guard confessed, chuckling softly to himself. “Looks like you got lost out there?”

  Never one to dissuade people from jumping to conclusions that worked in my favor, I shrugged. “You could say that. Would be awfully nice if I could use your radio to call someone to pick me up?” Better to start humble and let them be generous, I figured. Even if they didn’t let me in, that guy sounded like he’d drop me some blankets to get cozy by the palisade overnight.

  “I can do you one better,” he suggested. “How about you come in before some enterprising undead bites you in the ass? We sure have enough food to feed one more mouth.”

  I waited for further instructions, but the gate was already opening, so I took my bewildered self—including the bicycle—through it. They didn’t even activate their kill chute but raised both parts at the same time. Not that I felt much like protesting, but it sure struck me as gullible.

  The twenty armed guards out of sight of the gate that I only saw once I was through, not so much, but that put my mind at ease more than on edge. I stopped, waiting, not surprised when the guy I’d been talking to before came clumping down the stairs on the inside of the inner palisade.

  “Nice to meet ya. I’m Steven, and this is our welcome committee in this fine town of Sweet Water.”

  “Anna,” I said confidently, shaking his offered hand. He must have noticed that something was weird about my grip but didn’t comment on it, instead offering a small nod. He seemed to be waiting for something, so I turned around to let him see the back of my neck, free as my hair was all gathered up under the ball cap I was wearing. “Three, as you can see, but no current affiliation.” Turning back to face him, I offered a wry smile. “Hope that’s not an issue.”

  “Not unless you make it one,” Steven offered, sounding sincere. “Does help explain why you’ve been out there, on your own.”

  “You mean because I’m a woman?”

  He shrugged, chuckling again. “As a living, breathing human being. Lots of things can kill you out there if you’re not careful. Must help to be a tough bitch.”

  I took that compliment for what it was but hoped that he wouldn’t elaborate on it. Since he wasn’t asking, I didn’t go into details, but I had to tell him something; there was a certain edge in the air, and I didn’t want to bring things to a head by appearing too silent or hostile.

  “That’s true. Still, not something I’m overly fond of, that being out there on my own thing. I got separated from my people and figured it would be easiest to call in and have them pick me up either here or further along the road. They’re likely a state or two away by now.” That should take care of any delays in responses—at least for a reasonable time span. I didn’t intend to stick around longer than a week if nothing happened.

  Steven nodded wisely. “Yeah, things used to be so much easier when the cell towers were still working.” He gave me a quick up-and-down before he jerked his head toward the building right next to the gate. “Tell you what? We’ll give them a call and see what comes of it. Might be a while until we get a response. In the meantime, we can get you cleaned up and fed. How about that?”

  “Sounds great, chief,” I offered as jovially as possible. I didn’t miss the mistrust in most of the guards’ eyes, but there was nothing I could do about that right now. Actually, things were going pretty well as of yet.

  I followed Steven into his radio station, not surprised to see a rather basic—but likely indestructible—setup. It took him a bit to get the right frequency, and he filled the time with idle chatter that was really anything but.

  “So what’s your story, Anna? Where’re you from?”

  I realized just how sketchy my backstory really was when I didn’t immediately think of a good response. I had figured simply going with the same as I’d used before in that blasted town after the incident with Taggard was good enough. I might have been fooling myself with that.

  Steven’s brows rose when I still hadn’t replied ten seconds later, making me shrug and spill more beans than I had intended. “You mean before the shit hit the fan? Medium-sized town on the east coast. But that’s hardly who I am anymore. We’ve spent the last few years touring the south, mostly Arkansas, Kentucky, and Louisiana, my husband and me. Then things got a little too exciting, and, well, here I am.”

  “Your husband, eh?” Steven muttered under his breath, sounding, if not disappointed, a little suspicious. Gee, the one thing I didn’t lie about, and that’s where he smelled a ruse? Yet before he could ask, static squawked and the radio came alive. Steven prattled off a few codes I didn’t get—and really didn’t like how that made me feel—before he raised his brows at me. “Dispatch, I presume?”

  “Would be awesome,” I agreed.

  Somehow, I’d hoped to hear a familiar voice, but whoever was manning the radio wasn’t anyone I knew. Steven came to the point quickly after exchanging minimal niceties. “Listen, we have a girl here who got lost in the woods.” He grinned at his own joke. “Name’s—”

  “Anna Hawthorne,” I dutifully supplied.

  He repeated that without missing a beat. “She’s looking for her group, close family and such. Thinks they’re likely en route to—”

  Again he eyed me askance. “California,” I offered succinctly, letting him jump to conclusions. His answering smile was actually a real one, alleviating some of my concerns. “The Coast.” He said it with implied capital C. “Got anyone on the move, or someone who could give her a ride? And send them the updated travel schedules as well.”

  The guy on the other end of the line grumbled about knowing how to do his job and promised to report back as soon as he knew more—tomorrow. Steven looked quite chipper at the chance of having annoyed him. Somehow, that endeared him a little more to me.

  Once he’d turned off the radio, he leaned back in his chair and studied me a little more shrewdly. “You got friends in the big city in the west?”

  I shook my head—and it wasn’t even a lie. “Friends of a friend of a friend whose brother met someone once,” I explained. “No deep, profound connections.” I’d never consider Gabriel Greene a friend, and after losing Tanner, I wasn’t sure if Gita would ever forgive me—if she was still alive. If any of them were still alive, the nasty voice at the back of my mind supplied. That wasn’t anything I would concern myself with right now, either.

  “Uh-uh,” came his response, which could have meant anything.

  More to distract him than because I was actually curious, I looked around, noting a few yellowed papers that looked like those damn bounty posters that had once existed of Nate and me when Bucky and his people had—passing
ly—tried to accost us before we could become more than a nuisance—which had proven to be all lies, anyway. They looked more like trophies, or what you’d see in a teenager’s bedroom. “What’s up with that? Sorry if I sound clueless, but it’s really been a while since I was in a larger settlement.”

  “Still holding a grudge?” he mused. When I didn’t react—also because I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about—he explained. “I know that, for a while, things were pretty much us against them against everyone, but as you likely know yourself, politics in reality are never what they are over the propaganda radio waves. Hell, half of our guards are former scavengers, and we’re damn happy to have them.” He actually looked taken aback for a second. “Pardon my French—”

  My laughter cut him off. “It’s okay. I’ve been running with some rough types for a while. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

  “Just don’t tell my wife,” he said, actually winking at me. “Anyways. As I said—if you don’t stir up any shit, no shit will be flung your way. Like most settlements, we do our thing, and that includes being on talking terms with all kinds of folks. Besides, you can’t trust half the sh… stuff some people tell you. Everything gets exaggerated times two when it gets retold. Easily takes twenty people from where it happened until it arrives here—it’s anyone’s guess if there’s any truth to the tale at all anymore. Besides, we’ve all made mistakes. What counts is that we’re still living and breathing, right?”

  “Right.” It wasn’t hard to agree with that. I idly wondered if he’d been waiting for a different reply but Steven nodded and got up before I could think of one.

  “Anyway, some things don’t change. Marks or no marks, you understand that we’ll have to check you out before we let you into the settlement proper?”

  “I was wondering when you’d ask for the customary striptease.”

  He actually looked uncomfortable at my worst impression of innuendo but didn’t let himself get deterred. “My wife and two armed guards will check you in private. Female guards. And my wife’s our resident doctor. Also, if you need anything checked, just tell her. She’s used to it. We’ll go through your pack with you now so we can make sure you’re not carrying any contraband, and we’d be much obliged if you kept your assault rifle or larger weapons than those handguns with us here at the armory. You’ll get them back when you leave.”

  That was too tantalizing to pass up. “Contraband?”

  “Bombs,” he said with suddenly icy calm. When he caught my frown, he backed up a little. “As I said, it’s been a tumultuous time for a bit. If you have no clue what I’m talking about, be happy you spent those months lazing around in, where was it you said you were?”

  “Arkansas, for the most part,” I repeated.

  “Right. Follow me, please.”

  My things were exactly where I’d left them, untouched as far as I could tell. I’d expected they’d ask for my rifle and was surprised when they didn’t take the magazines as well. My few belongings raised a few questioning looks, particularly as it was obvious that I was running very low on everything, and what few things I’d gathered were recent acquisitions—except for the weapons and survival gear. No one asked, so I didn’t volunteer information that might get me in trouble. While they were busy checking my things, I snuck a few peeks myself, and, true enough, several of the guards had marks across their necks, but only two had all three. I watched them a little more closely but, if anything, they seemed to ignore me more than the others—either pretending to be ignorant, or really not wanting to know about my background. Considering what I knew about pretty much every one of the former soldiers who had gotten all three marks, I couldn’t hold that against them. Or it was a trap, but nothing I could do about that now.

  Satisfied that I wasn’t about to suicide-bomb their settlement, Steven shooed me off to one of the adjacent buildings where large kettles sat over fire pits, one of them ablaze at the moment. Three women were waiting for me there, the two guards and the doctor. She seemed less than pleased to be here and told me with a clipped tone to get naked and state my business quickly should I have any. I didn’t, and was more than happy to peel myself out of my sweaty, grimy clothes, even though I dreaded the usual reactions ahead.

  And, oh boy, they didn’t disappoint.

  The first of the guards turned away after I peeled off the second glove; the other managed until I shook my boots off. Even the doctor herself stopped acting like a royal bitch and continued to watch me undress with a stony expression only. I did my best to ignore them until I was as naked as a babe, and did the obligatory whirl as quickly as possible without looking like I was trying to hide something. They still all caught the tat on my lower back, and their reactions were comically identical: pity quickly turning to derision. I wondered if someone would finally explain to me now what that was all about.

  “See something you like?” I quipped, not really trying to be nice. I’d never liked this being-stared-at-while-naked business, and that had only gotten worse since Canada.

  Before either of them could answer, the doctor signaled the guards to leave, and they beat a hasty retreat. She remained but rather than reply, she handed me a bucket full of steaming water, some washcloths, and soap. I didn’t hesitate, telling myself that if she wanted to talk, she would.

  Turned out, she did. “Most of those scars look like the work of a professional,” she pointed out.

  “Guess so,” was all I was willing to volunteer, trying to both shield as much of my body from her imploring gaze and not let her see my back at the same time.

  “Some are real hack jobs.”

  That assessment made me laugh. “Also true.” When she kept staring at me, I shrugged. “Sometimes when you’re out there, all you have is someone with a steady hand. Sometimes they don’t really have a clue what they’re doing, except keeping you alive.”

  She didn’t respond, but I could tell that she agreed. I almost asked her if she was a real doctor, or maybe had some basic knowledge and that had been enough to get that title bestowed on her, but kept my trap shut. No need to antagonize the woman who, quite possibly, got to decide whether they’d throw me out in a minute or two, or let me stay.

  “You’ve seen war. That much is obvious,” she finally went on while I got busy scrubbing what was left of my toes. I stiffened, not sure if I should correct her—or whether there was a need to—but she went on before I could come to any conclusions. “I know what those three marks really mean. I don’t mean the walking-bomb part—nobody’s that superstitious here. Most of us are alive only because of someone with high endurance and immunity, and we are grateful for that. But I know what you very likely did to get them.”

  Anger wanted to flicker up my spine and make me spew something stupid, but for once asking myself what Nate would have told her helped me keep a moderately calm demeanor. The irony of that wasn’t lost on me. “And your point is?”

  She actually laughed at my cool tone, irritating me further, until I realized that I’d, somehow, broken the ice. “I’m not passing judgment,” she assured me, although her tone was laced with too much sarcasm to be completely honest. “But, after all that, why would you mark yourself up like some imposter fangirl? You can’t seriously believe in all the crap people tell themselves when they think those in charge aren’t watching.”

  And that’s where she lost me. Not even my cool stare could get me out of that situation, and I got the sense that letting her know I was oblivious was not a good idea. So I left it at a tart, “It’s often hard to know all the sides to what went down. And sometimes the simple truth is that even good people make stupid decisions.” I hoped to hell that this statement was confusing and vague enough to work as an answer.

  I was surprised that it did, although it made the doctor shake her head. “That’s true.” She paused before she got up, but didn’t leave quite yet. “Don’t make us regret letting you in. We really don’t care about people’s ideologies as long as they don’t force
them upon us. I hope you can hold yourself to that standard as well?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” And that wasn’t even a lie.

  She smiled, if tightly. “Exactly.” She then gestured in the vague direction of the center of the settlement. “Once you’re refreshed, come find me in the village square. We’ll get you a place to sleep and make sure you’re well fed. You can wash your clothes here and hang them up over there. Nobody will touch them.”

  That was a strange reassurance if I’d ever heard one but I thanked her nevertheless, happy to finally be on my own again. Damn, but people could be draining sometimes.

  Even though I only got half of what was going on, I couldn’t really complain. So far everything seemed to proceed splendidly. What could possibly go wrong?

  Judging from history, I was minutes away from a full-blown disaster—but I hoped disaster would wait until I got some stew into my stomach. I figured I deserved at least that much.

  Chapter 7

  The shit didn’t hit the fan before I got some stew—beef, which was a very welcome change to my usual diet—and freshly-baked bread into my stomach. Also not before I got some time to socialize with the natives, who turned out to be pretty relaxed about my presence, used to traders and mercenaries as they were. I was downright antsy by the time most people got ready to hit the sack, and still the other shoe hadn’t dropped. It was downright frightening how boring and uneventful my time in the settlement started out.