Green Fields (Book 2): Outbreak (8 page)

Nate’s gaze took on a slightly feverish tint as he kept holding mine.

“Some things are worth fighting for. Dying for. Freedom is one of them. I sincerely hope that you’ll never get to understand the true meaning of that.”

With that cryptic message, he left me to my own devices, and to once again ponder what exactly I had gotten myself into here.

True to Nate’s words, we moved out shortly. With the setting sun shining in our faces and the scents of nature around, it could have been an idyllic evening stroll. Sleeping for a few hours might have helped take the edge off the exhaustion, but my feet were still killing me, my pack weighed a ton, and the knowledge that we were barely a mile above a never-ending stream of zombies did its own to keep me jittery and jumpy. Unlike in the woods where things had been a little more relaxed and progress had been fast, our group’s speed slowed down to molasses rather than cheetah. Every couple of minutes, we hunkered down and checked our progress, making my anxiety skyrocket each time. I was sure that the moment we halted, the mob would be upon us, no doubt.

The problem was, there were stragglers even in the hills, only it took me almost half an hour to realize that—but our sentries were out to dispatch them as quietly as possible. Only when the corpses ended up right next to our path—heads smashed in yet barely bleeding—did I realize what had been going on the entire time. The fact that we had several people out and about to make sure the core group wasn’t attacked was somewhat of a relief; the knowledge that even though I couldn’t see them, there were still more zombies lurking around just made everything ten times worse.

The farther west we got, the more the valley broadened, opening up into a plateau where two rivers met. In the dusk with no street lights, it was hard to make out the streets between the scattered buildings, but even without binoculars I could still see movement down there, and that scared me shitless. Nate called for another rest to wait and see what would happen after the sun set, but I could tell already from the restlessness of the people around me that things didn’t shape up. Still, sitting in the grass, stretching my feet out was like a moment stolen from paradise—one I intended to get the most of. Somehow I got the feeling that indulgences of all kinds would be hard to come by in the coming days.

About an hour after the sun had disappeared behind the hills we moved out again, the rising moon providing just enough illumination to make even a well-paved road treacherous footing—and we were still out and about around already uneven ground to start with. I stumbled and almost fell more than once, and I wasn’t the only one by far. We still made it down the slope into a wheat field, the stalks soft and not yet fully grown in late May.

Not sure how large our group was to begin with—and with however many people around scouting at any time—I still noticed when suddenly it was just me, Andrej, two other guys, and Nate. Looking around, I saw another cluster huddled together about fifty yards away, straying further from us, while up ahead I could see yet more figures move, crouched over to minimize their silhouettes against the sky.

“We’re splitting up,” Nate whispered to me, explaining. “We won’t make it to the other side as a large group, but maybe in parts we stand a chance.”

I so didn’t like the sound of that, but who was I to protest? I was well aware that I was only still alive because the others knew what they were doing.

It still seemed like forever until one of the guys whose names I still didn’t know started forward, followed by Nate and the other. Andrej remained behind me, only needing to give me a gentle nudge once to follow the others. After hours spent with my heart racing, one might have thought that I was slowly getting used to it, but—if anything—that just made it worse as we crept across the field, pausing briefly before traversing a small, unpaved road and continuing on across unmowed, high grass. I told myself to relax when nothing jumped us right away, but that was impossible to accomplish.

Then the grass evened out into a lawn, and I realized that we must now be in someone’s backyard. Up ahead I could see several dark shapes looming—houses and a barn, if I wasn’t completely wrong. Judging from the smell, there should have been horses somewhere around, but I didn’t hear a single neigh or snort.
 

Guess juicy human wasn’t the only thing on the menu.

My fingers were itching to get one of my bats ready, but when I moved as if to take off my pack, Andrej was right there. “You run. We fight.” I opened my mouth to protest—although, really? Considering they all had rifles and handguns while I carried two freaking baseball bats made me kind of happy that no one expected me to join the fray—but Andrej whispered right over my protest. “We’ll be faster knowing that you take care of yourself and won’t lag behind. If we run into an obstacle, you take off ahead, and we’ll follow. You only fight if you can’t run anymore.” That reminded me awfully much of the guy we’d lost while crossing the bridge, but I did my best to disband that mental image.
 

We remained hunkered down at the edge of the lawn for maybe five minutes before the guy taking point sprinted across the open space until he disappeared into the shadows by the barn. Nate waited maybe ten more seconds before he took off, and the same pattern repeated itself with the other guy. Then it was my turn. Vaulting away from the ground, I forced my legs to run at full speed, even if it felt like barely more than a lumbering walk to me, my pack bouncing on my back. As I drew closer to the barn, I could see the others crouching low toward the front edge, looking out over the next open space to the main house. Panting heavily with my pulse beating a deafening staccato in my ears, I sank down next to Nate, my entire body shaking with tension.

Why had I ever thought it was a good idea not to run ten miles every morning, just in case I’d ever need to run for my life?

Andrej had barely crouched down behind me when guy number one took off again, slinking across the yard until he hunkered down near the front corner of the house. He looked around briefly, then waved, and Nate followed him. Again we went through the same spiel, and this time I didn’t need Andrej’s signal to know when to start.

After the corner of the house came an abandoned tractor, followed by a rickety carport. Beyond, I could already see the main road at the end of a snaking driveway. It was dark enough that everything beyond our short sprint distances was hard to make out, even in the silvery moonlight, but I didn’t need to see well.

Because now I could hear them.

Feet—too many to count—shuffling along. The irregular scratching of clothing against clothing. The occasional moan or grunt, interspersed by huffing chuffs, and as I listened on, a howl followed by more agitated sounds before they died down again. While it didn’t sound like quite so many as we’d seen before from above, there were still plenty of them out and about—but then a single one would have been one too many.

I expected some kind of weighing of options now, but as soon as Andrej got here, the first guy took off again. He started down the driveway, but then suddenly stopped, hunkering down in the grass beside the road. Endless seconds ticked by before he continued, slower now, making sure to remain on the grass. When Nate finally followed, he avoided the road altogether, and I realized that the crunching of the gravel must have alerted the zombies.

And then it was my turn. Unlike before, I didn’t dash at full speed but stayed at a more careful pace, trying to be as silent as possible. Up ahead, I could barely make out three crouching shapes by the mailbox—and beyond them at least ten shambling figures walking down the road, staring straight ahead. My breath caught in my throat as panic clawed at my mind, making me want to scream and run, but I forced myself to keep going. Closer and closer I got, my fingers aching from how tightly balled my fists were.
 

This was insane. This was madness. This—

Nate pulled me down next to him as soon as I reached our group, apparently having changed places with guy number two. I would have let out a startled sound if he hadn’t put his hand over my mouth quickly, and he didn’t ease up until he was sure that I had a grip on myself. Leaning close enough that I could feel his warm breath against my cheek, one arm remained across my shoulders, comforting, supporting.

“As far as we can see, they are everywhere, but they mostly stick to the streets. We’ll try to slink across lawns wherever possible, but we will have to cross several streets until we’re through this part. We’ll go one by one in irregular intervals. You’ll go when I tap on your shoulder, understand?” I nodded, although the very idea of running right through the throng of zombies make me want to vomit. Nate continued to look into my eyes for a moment longer, than gave a brief nod in turn. “I know that you can make it. We will make it. Just stay low and run when I give you the signal. Don’t think, don’t hesitate. Just run.”

Biting my lip, I nodded again, but couldn’t keep it at that.

“What do I do when they notice me? Or when they come after one of the others?”

In the gloom, it was hard to judge the look he was giving me, but it wasn’t a friendly, warm one.

“Then you continue to duck and run. You try to stay hidden, and get away from any fight that breaks out. I’ll find you once we’ve taken care of them. Don’t come back, don’t hesitate. Our goal is to reach that forest straight across the valley. If you have to, you just make a run for it, and hide in the trees until morning. I won’t leave, promise.”

There was still the option that he might no longer be alive to look for me, but I didn’t voice that. Just thinking of that felt too much like I was already jinxing it. So what I did was nod, and try to quell the panic that was in full swing now.

During our hushed conversation, the two guys in front of us had melted into the night, leaving just us and Andrej behind. Squinting, I could make out one of them crouching a few yards down the road, still in the ditch but watching both sides now. I was surprised when I realized that the dark lump by the hedge across the road was the other guy. I hadn’t even realized that he’d already made the dash, but then I’d just been focused on the clusters of zombies swaying down the street. Clearly, they hadn’t noticed, either. That gave me a glimmer of hope, if not a brightly shining one.

Guy two followed about a minute later, crossing right after a cluster of three zombies that shambled by. One of them seemed to have a broken or strained ankle, the dragging sound like nails on chalkboard to me. It masked what few sounds he made well, though, and with the next group still yards down the road, they didn’t notice. Part of me wanted to dash right after him, but Nate shook his head when I looked at him.

So waiting it was.
 

Endless waiting.

My breaths continued to come out in pressed pants, even though I tried to slow them down and exhale as silently as possible. It was still less loud than the chuffing sounds the zombies made—if they made any. If they were really dead, did they even need to breathe? They certainly needed air to howl, but those passing us looked rather placid—if that was ever a term used to describe the walking dead. Watching them, I tried to find patterns in their movements, but there was absolutely no synchronicity going on. Some walked faster, others slower; a few moved at almost a lumbering run while others dragged themselves on at barely more than a crawl. From time to time, one or another looked up with alarming alertness, stopping to scent the air or listen, it seemed, but continued after a few seconds. More than once I thought that the perfect opportunity had arrived to cross the road now, but Nate kept his hands to himself, making me even more anxious whenever the next zombies moved by.

What was he waiting for? Across the road, guy number two disappeared behind the house beyond the hedge, and a few moments later the other joined him. If I didn’t go now, I wouldn’t know where to run to next.

It was only a light tap on my arm, but enough to make me scramble up immediately. I held my breath as I ran across the street, trying to move as lithely and silently as possible. My mind screamed at me to look left and right, but I knew that I would freeze if I found a zombie coming right after me, and that would be that. The asphalt underneath my feet seemed to stretch for miles, and the sound of my footfalls was deafening. There was no way in hell that they couldn’t hear me—

And then I was across the street, my feet cushioned by soft grass rather than hard ground, but I kept running, right until I could duck behind the hedge. My thighs and calves were hurting with tension, and when I finally inhaled, my lungs were on fire with need for oxygen. Crouching down, I looked around, expecting Nate any moment now, but no one followed.

Counting to ten, I forced my pulse to slow down, then inched toward the edge of the hedge so I could look back out onto the road. More zombies, and still more. Then one stopped right in front of me and raised his face, making that sniffing sound as if he was scenting the air. Quickly pulling back out of sight, I waited until my breathing was moderately under my control, before I looked again. The zombie had moved on—but I still couldn’t see anything crouching by the ditch, not even when I looked up and down the road.

A scratching sound across the yard made me bolt upright, and when I stared into the darkness there, I detected movement. I was immediately convinced that something was coming for me, but when it stilled and then repeated itself, I realized that it was one of the guys signaling me to follow him. I hesitated for just a moment, then skipped across the lawn, keeping close to the hedge until I had to traverse the open space to the house. The moment I got there, the guy disappeared along the porch, and this time I followed right in his tracks.

A rattling sounds from one of the windows above us made us both freeze, and when I heard a low groan follow it, I had to force myself to remain immobile. More bumping, followed by a crash—then it was silent again. Was there someone inside the house? But then it made sense—if you were sick, you’d lock yourself in, right? And if you died… locked in zombie, voila! Realizing that, Nate’s cryptic remark about finding a place to make safe for hunkering down took on a whole new meaning.