Green Fields (Book 10): Uprising:

by Lecter, Adrienne

  “No problem,” Amos shouted over the ongoing din. “Need some extra hands? Give me five minutes and I can have another fifty people to help you. All far less out of it than you yourself.”

  I gave him a bright grin in return—scowling would have been impolite—and nodded. “Sure! Meet us at the northern end of the square. And then get the people out of the storm. We don’t need anyone to be struck by lightning.”

  It took us closer to a quarter of an hour to get things sorted out—and when the rain became even more punishing, people were more than happy to return to the various taverns and bunkhouses to keep celebrating inside—but we ended up with enough backup to fill the entire street as we moved back the way we had come and then on toward the citadel.

  Halfway there, Marleen suddenly appeared out of thin air—more likely she stepped from a side street, but all that screaming and getting cheered on had gotten a few wires crossed in my brain—Richards and the rest of his fire team trailing behind, followed by a bunch of the Silo marines.

  “How are things coming with the fortress?” I asked, shouting way too loud as I was still used to that from before. The much smaller crowd behind me still cheered; I wondered what I’d have to do to make them stop short of sending them away. Richards looked quite disturbed, but Marleen seemed to find my entourage incredibly funny.

  “Well, good for you that you finally get the recognition that you deserve,” she remarked. I had no idea what to make of that but chose to ignore it in favor of letting her reply to my previous question. “It’s actually quite fortunate that you arrive with backup. We’re kind of at a stand-off at the citadel so we went out to look for something to tilt the scales. Hello scale tilters!” The last she called out loud enough for the scavengers to hear, who were happy to cheer to her as well. “They are quite convenient, at least if you need to make some noise,” Marleen admitted. “Come on, this way.”

  Rather than use the street they had all come from, she started down the main road toward the arena—and that was exactly where we ended up. The entrances to the ranks were all barred, but the scavengers immediately set to either climbing over them or using all kinds of utensils for crowbars, including a few actual crowbars that were blood-splattered and rusty enough to make me wish for a tetanus shot. Marleen watched them for a bit before turning to me. “We need to get down below to help clear up the tunnels. Think you can set them to making sure nobody gets out of the arena, or the two exits here and here?” She pointed to where less flimsy gates led into the rock that made up the very top of the mine I knew was below us.

  “I can try.” Amos was nowhere to be found but I recognized one of the younger scavengers who’d been part of Harris’s group as well, and explained to him what we wanted them to do. I wasn’t sure if he got it but he nodded very enthusiastically and immediately started shouting orders at those nearby, clearly considering himself deputized. At Marleen’s satisfied nod, we split up again—my team going to the left entrance, and Richards and Marleen heading toward the right. I found the door barred, yet as soon as I rattled on it, I heard a squeak coming from my radio.

  “Lewis here. We’re coming with backup,” I said, waiting for someone to acknowledge my message. Instead, they opened the gate, two cautious Silo marines peeking out. They lowered their weapons as soon as they saw us, making room for us to surge inside. There was a pile of dead guards to step over—and one corpse, carefully pulled to the side, belonged to Buehler’s marines also—but beyond that, the corridor hewn from rough stone was free. The constant howling of the storm cut off as the door fell into its lock once more, but that only served to make the shots echoing up from further into the bedrock sound all the louder.

  “Status?” I asked the closer of the marines.

  “They’re making progress but keep getting pinned down at every intersection,” he explained. “We didn’t bring enough explosives to smoke them out, and besides, we can’t use them without endangering the prisoners. Sgt. Buehler said to tell you that they are working on chasing what is left into the arena. With luck we’ll catch them before they can slink off.”

  “Yeah, no chance of that,” I muttered, grinning. When he looked back at me with confusion, I nodded toward where the arena lay next and below us. “We found a couple of scavengers happy to help us. They are currently taking over the ranks of the arena. Nothing will get through them.” At least I hoped not. Suddenly, having Amos out there was a relief. I doubted he’d be susceptible to any bribes from Cortez and his men after I’d just promised them their own kingdom to govern as they saw fit.

  “Richards is coming in from the other side,” I told the marines. “We’ll see if we can help below. You’re good with holding that door?”

  “Perfectly fine, ma’am,” the marine acknowledged.

  I was tempted to threaten him with violence if he ever did that again but left it at a glare, much to some of the others’ mirth. Sonia ignored it but Burns and Hill were grinning at me—and each other—while I got a vexed look from Cole.

  “Loosen up some,” I told the surly former delta operative. “If you keep hanging around, you better get used to my leadership style.”

  “That would require you actually doing any leading first,” Cole griped—but fell in behind me as I got ready to move on.

  Even with flashlights, the tunnel was dark enough that it made sense for me to go first. I paused before every intersection to look at the crossing corridors and have someone else sweep the intersection, but we moved a good three hundred feet before we found anything except more dead pulled to the walls not to be an obstacle. Buehler and two of her marines were there, one of them guarding the others while the other was fussing over the bleeding bullet wounds in her leg, the sergeant herself less than thrilled with being fussed over.

  “Go on down below,” she called out to us. “That’s where the real shit show is going down. We’ve already cleared the upper level. Just needed to fall back when one of the assholes strafed me.”

  Following her advice, we switched from the tunnel to the ramp leading down into the bowels of the mine, closer to the staccato sounds of rifles eating up bullets. The acrid twang of urine, feces, and unwashed humans hit me as soon as the ground evened out below, making me realize that we must have reached the cell block. The corridor looked the same as the one above, only with a few sturdy doors along the walls. We must have come from the other side when they’d hauled us into Nate’s cell, but even though I didn’t recognize the tunnel, I sure remembered the stench. Most of the doors were open, making me guess that our guys had been recruiting on the spot. A few of the dead we went past were naked, verifying my guess. I pulled up short when I recognized two bodies from the California settlement but couldn’t remember their names. Every foot of the tunnels seemed to have been paid for in blood, and I realized another reason for why Nate had seemed quite happy to let me go shoot rapists—so I wouldn’t be the one paying the ultimate price here.

  Then we reached the first intersection, and to the right was the corridor the shots rang out from. I let Hill take point as we moved forward. He paused five steps in, then gave us the go-ahead. The reason why he’d halted so soon became apparent when I glanced around his powerful frame and found two of our people, anxiously looking around between us and the forward position behind them. I stepped around them and moved up to where I found Zilinsky playing backup with Rozen and Calveras.

  “Status,” she whisper-barked at me before I’d even come to a halt next to her.

  “We cleaned out the brothel and delivered that Cooper bitch to Romanoff for safekeeping,” I reported. “We also got some backup. Oh, and I promised Harris and hundreds of scavengers that they could have the city once we’re done here. Hope that’s okay?”

  For a second, her eyes went wide but Pia caught herself quickly. It wasn’t the first time I’d pulled a stunt beyond what we’d planned.

  “As long as they don’t hamstring us, I don’t give a fuck,” she enthused.

  “Actually
, they are right now taking over the arena and blocking the surface access gates. We ran into Marleen and Richards on the way over. They should be around here somewhere, too.”

  The Ice Queen gave a brief nod to signal that she’d understood, her eyes already trained forward. “Go ahead and see if you can make it to Miller’s position. I think he could use a voice of reason.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. “I’m rarely known as the voice of reason.”

  “Maybe that’s exactly what he needs now,” she stressed. “Unless you want to stick it out with us here.”

  “Nah, getting shot in the face sounds like fun,” I offered, already taking the next step forward so she couldn’t shove me. Somewhere behind me I heard someone chuckle. It was anyone’s guess whether that was Burns or Hill. Damn, but maybe I shouldn’t have let those two pair up, particularly outside of where Richards might have kept at least his people in line. Being fabulous like me came at a price.

  It took me a while to make my way to the very front of our outstretched line—not quite sure whether it was defense or attack. That I wasn’t the only one with that problem became apparent when I managed to make that last dash and press myself against the wall behind where Nate was crouching, low enough that he could use the two doors that they were barring the tunnel with for cover. They had seen me coming and made me wait with my last dash until they gave the signal, yet just as I came to a rocking halt, Santos and Clark next to me shot up out of cover, assault rifles firing on full auto. It was only when a dead—and naked—body toppled onto our side of the door barrier that I realized what was going on.

  “Fuck,” I whispered. “Are they seriously using the prisoners as meat shields?”

  “Something like that,” Nate muttered. “They found out quickly enough that we are trying to keep them alive. Some they managed to convince to fight for them. Some are too far gone to be able to make sense of friend or foe. Some just want to die. So we have to wait and see whether they come to us and just want out—or even want to get revenge right here—or want to tear our heads off. We’re bleeding ammo, and it may well take another hour until we can force a push.”

  I carefully craned my neck until I could see over the door. Almost immediately, weapons went off ahead, making me duck, but it had been long enough for me to get a gruesome picture of what lay ahead. The tunnel floor was full of twisted, filthy, naked bodies, only a handful of guards among them.

  “So what’s the plan?” I asked, then added, before he could speak, “I hope you don’t mind that I promised Harris and the scavengers that they could have the city. Didn’t seem like a memento worth keeping. Some of them are right now securing the arena outside to make sure nobody escapes. They seemed mighty fond of the idea to get their own city in exchange for us doing the cleanup first.”

  I expected at least a hint of scorn from Nate but all he did was nod after a moment’s consideration. “Smart thinking. And no, nothing here has sentimental value for me.”

  A few more shots from ahead followed but the wood held them back well. I realized they must have used the doors from the prison cells, reinforced with sheets of steel as they were.

  Looking around, I noticed the corridor leading away to our left a few feet behind our position. “Where does that go?”

  “Straight to the arena,” Nate was too quick to respond. It was clearly a part of the structure that he was familiar with. “That’s the main gate they use for the trucks when they dump the gear. Or the animals.”

  That made me think of something. “Why didn’t they try to go down that way? If that leads to the arena, what’s up ahead?”

  “Oh, they wanted to, but we discouraged them of that notion,” Nate said, his smile more of a grimace. “Ahead is their armory but they already raided that before we pushed them back. There’s the kitchen for the cells and a guard room. And the interrogation room where they dragged you and Richards in. No access to the actual mine because that’s in the opposite direction, back where Zilinsky is guarding the ramp to the upper level.”

  “Right.” I tried to bring up a mental map of the information he’d just offered, but my mind drew a blank. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe I should keep my trap shut. Maybe the Ice Queen had ordered me not to, so here went my brilliant plan. “How about we let them into the arena so we can pin them down there?”

  Nate gave me a somewhat suffering look. “And how exactly are we to facilitate that? They won’t just be stupid enough to follow us if we withdraw.”

  “But maybe they will if I do this.” And because smart and cautious had never worked for me, I started shouting loud enough for my voice to carry beyond the growing heap of bodies—and without first consulting Nate. Maybe I should have done that. Now it was too late. “We have to fall back! They’re about to cut us off!”

  Nate glared at me, looking a moment away from strangling me for real this time, but dutifully called back—needlessly close to my plugged-up ears—“Who’s cutting us off?”

  “The fucking scavenger assholes!” I shouted. “They already killed our backup squad! We need to move!”

  Santos and Clark were both looking at me quite confused but Nate was already signaling to them that we were trying to bait a trap for Cortez and his men. And it looked as if they were buying it, if a new barrage of shots hitting the doors and going over it was any indication.

  “Fall back!” Nate ordered, shooting back over the barrier as two marines grabbed the door in front of him to do just that. It was awkward, remaining in a deep crouch as I backtracked the way I had come. More and more bullets bit into the wood and the rock of the tunnel walls, spraying us with shrapnel and splinters. At Nate’s gesture, I hightailed it into the intersection and around the corner, happy to be able to get up for a second. The shotgun was useless, the reach too short to do any damage, but I still sent a few slugs down the corridor in my valiant effort to guard our “retreat.” There were a good thirty of us down there and Nate ordered the marines to bar the extension of the tunnel to force whoever came after us to use the route to the arena instead. We all had to back up further since our opponents weren’t stupid enough to let themselves get shot like fish in a barrel. When they finally made their break for it, they laid down heavy cover fire, forcing us all to flatten ourselves to the cold, dirt-strewn ground.

  “Move forward!” Nate hissed, the command reaching me over the coms rather than directly although he was only a few feet ahead of me. I followed suit, almost running after the guys with the movable barrier who were quick to secure the intersection once more and clear the tunnel. Nate and his strike team were already moving in on the arena exit, only stopping where the gate became too narrow to use the barriers effectively still—

  We spilled out into the arena like a hedgehog made of angry humans with weapon spikes protruding outward, ready to meet our opposition—or what was left of it. With the firefight raging on, Cortez’s people were down to fifteen men, who were now, for the most part, gawking at the arena ranks still filling with scavengers. Amos and several of his people were standing on the very edge of the front rank, weapons pointed into the arena ground. They were quick to change their aim away from us as we entered, making me breathe a little easier.

  So far, so good. This could be over in five seconds flat. Pew, pew, pew—easy peasy.

  One look at Nate was enough to realize that no, that wouldn’t do.

  A closer look at Cortez—and who he had kneeling, naked, with a tight noose around his neck, the other end of the rope casually wrapped around Cortez’s hand and forearm—told me why.

  Could things never be easy?

  If I’d thought Nate was in bad shape, Bucky was way worse off. True, I’d never seen him completely naked but getting into the hot lab in France had required a quick change of clothes, and I’d been close enough to him to know that, two years ago, he’d been quite the fit specimen. Now he was all wiry tendons and mottled skin stretched over bones that showed too prominently to be healthy. His abundance of be
ard and hair didn’t make up for that. I wasn’t exactly feeling sorry for him—I’d need drugs way more potent than what I was rocking for that, if it was even still possible, which I kind of doubted—but that was one miserable shadow of a human being. A year spent mostly in darkness had turned his skin deathly pale, and if I hadn’t known he was still alive, I would have guessed that he was a months-old shambler. But there was intelligence lurking in his dull eyes as they stared in our direction, and hope so clearly human that it was easy to make out the difference. The irony that Bucky was happy to see me, of all people, wasn’t lost on me. Well, maybe not me personally, but for once in his life he didn’t sneer at or taunt me—which I found oddly disappointing. Really, this whole reneging on my revenge thing wasn’t shaping up as I’d been hoping.

  “Ah, the prodigal son returns,” Cortez called out, the phrasing making the hair at the nape of my neck stand on end. Was it just a weird thing people said? Greene had called out something similar to me. Was that just my natural paranoia talking? Or my bias? Or the drugs? Or had we all been one bunch of naive lunatics to trust the self-declared leader of New Angeles for so long?

  Nate didn’t react at first besides continuing to stalk forward to where we had enough space to spread out, both to make harder targets and to not shoot each other should this actually end with a quick round of “pew, pew, pew” which I still hadn’t given up on. I’d killed Taggard in a split-second decision—why couldn’t Nate do the same? Not that I didn’t understand his need for vengeance—it was just inconvenient.

  Not for the first time this week I wondered just how full-circle we had come that I had to sympathize with Nate’s past annoyance at actions I’d set and considered fully acceptable.