Green Fields (Book 3): Escalation (26 page)

“I’m sorry I flaked out on you like that. In the hospital, I mean. With the dissecting,” he said, his voice heavy with trepidation.

I calmly studied him for a moment, doing him the courtesy of not just blowing off what must have been something that had been bugging him for real if he brought it up now.

“It’s okay. I get it.”

“No, you don’t,” he protested. “I thought I’d be okay, but when I saw that thing lying there, I just—“

“You saw Smith,” I interrupted him gently. “Robert.” His boyfriend. Who I’d killed about two hours after meeting them. Because he’d turned and came after me, and it was either that, or dying.

Martinez’s dark eyes narrowed before they widened, and he shook his head as he chuckled low under his breath. “You know, it’s so easy to forget just how bright you are with all the stupid machismo and swagger you put on for show.”

“It’s not just show. I’m working my ass off to sink to the level you guys have established,” I joked, reaching out to thump his shoulder lightly with my left fist. “But for real. Don’t you think I’ve never considered that it’s just dumb luck that it wasn’t Nate under my scalpel? Or coming after me when we were luring that fucker out so we could snatch it up? He usually doesn’t physically rub it in my face just how much stronger than me he is, but I know. I see it every evening or morning when I feel like I can’t walk another yard and he still looks ready to run a marathon. Or when we have sex and he just picks me up and—“

“Really don’t need to know the details.” Martinez groaned.

“Tough luck. What I’m trying to say is, you’re not the only one who’s sometimes awfully aware just how diffuse the lines really are. I’m just lucky. Mine’s still alive. Yours isn’t.” I wondered if I should tell him again that I was sorry for what I’d had to do, but refrained from it. I knew that he wasn’t holding a grudge, and, if anything, still felt remorse because back then he hadn’t been able to do what I did.

He laughed, but it was a sad, rueful sound. “You shouldn’t be so forgiving. Just leaves you riddled with so much more work. And gruesome shit to do.”

I shrugged. “We all do what we do. As long as the job gets done… you get what I mean.”

“Now you’re sounding just like him,” he remarked.

I wondered if that was a good thing or not, but decided that it didn’t matter.

“Promise, next time we have to cut apart stinking zombies, I’ll pretend to swoon and let you do the honors. Hell, maybe we’ll find another one of the really strong fuckers and you have a go at it to see if you can break my record of how many kills it takes for it to stay down. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said, solemnly shaking my offered hand while giving me a shit-eating grin. “Which reminds me, I’ve been thinking—“

“Never a good thing,” I said.

“Shut up. You’re stealing my thunder. So, we pretty much know what happens to a zombie when it eats one of us, right? What about seeing what happens if a cannibal eats a zombie? Ever thought of that?”

“You’re disgusting,” I replied, laughing. “You know that.”

“That’s what she said,” he shot back, snickering.

The day went on like that, only broken up by the few instances when one of us had to step aside to take a leak. The weather was nice enough that I could have worked on my tan—a real priority for me—if not for the full gear I was sweating inside of. At least we had enough water not to get thirsty, and enough canned food from the city still that there was even choice. My mood didn’t pick up, though, not even when the teams started returning as the sun met the horizon again.

We moved the cars at first light, and repeated the same circuit. It was on the third day that Burns and Cho finally saw what they thought was a car moving in the distance, but they were cautious enough to withdraw rather than investigate. Two more days of sneaking around, and finally we seemed to get a lead on where their headquarter might be. By then I was bored to death, and when morning brought a new duty roster with me off it, I accosted Nate before he could leave me to another day of extensive navel gazing.

“I’m coming with you.”

He paused where he’d been about to strike out with Andrej, turning comically slowly to face me. I’d expected a certain amount of scorn, but the look on his face was blank.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not letting you sideline me another day,” I protested. “I don’t care if you’re afraid they’ll rape my dismembered corpse, I’m coming with you.”

Behind Nate, Andrej gave a strangled sound as he failed miserably in keeping from laughing, while Nate’s eyes widened in what looked tantalizingly close to shock.

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what the fuck? Is this what the two of you get up to while you’re supposedly guarding our base camp?”

I hated that I felt somewhat chastised. “It came up in casual conversation.”

That made him hide his face behind one gloved palm for a second before his eyes bored into mine again.

“Do I want to know exactly how?”

“Probably not,” I admitted. “Doesn’t change a thing.”

“Bree, listen—“ he started, but I cut him off.

“Spare us both the bullshit. Clark’s pretty much useless since he sprained his ankle yesterday, and I bet Bailey’d much rather stay with the cars than creep through the wilderness with that urinary tract infection. You’re down a tracker and a sniper, and while I’m well aware of the fact that I can’t make up for either, I’m a good stand-in until they’re back to normal. I’m not asking you to put me in charge of planning or taking point in the final phase of the operation. We’re still scouting, right? So let me tag along. I can watch your back well enough. Or do you still think I’m only so much useless baggage to you?”

Trying to badger him into agreeing was probably the wrong tactic, but it was true that I’d be more use to him than those other two.

Nate weighed his options for a couple of seconds, making me sweat a little. “How are your ribs?”

“Good as new,” I lied.

The look I got told me that I wasn’t fooling anyone, but after another moment he nodded. “Suit yourself. Bates, you go out with Lewis. Let her do the spotting while you do the scouting.”

It wasn’t that unusual that I was in the same group as Bates, but that must have been the first time it was actually just the two of us. Bates gave Nate a look that was about as ecstatic as I felt, but neither of us protested. I would have felt more at ease with Nate himself, of course, or Andrej or Burns, but I could see where this time around, our heavy hitters would take point. While the others set out, Bates spent a few minutes showing me where on the hand-drawn map that he carried we were about to look before we left the cars and the three remaining guys behind. At my protest Martinez had seemed ready to speak up, but Nate had dissuaded him from that with a glance only.

Thanks to Campbell’s tinkering, we all now carried those rudimentary communication systems. They had about a mile radius where they worked well and five with random reception, making them somewhat useless for this undertaking where the different groups spread out over several times that large an area, but it was better than nothing—until we attacked the cannibal base, of course. It certainly beat being out there without a chance to check in with each other. Times like these really made me miss cell phones all over again.

Bates remained mostly silent as we trudged along the ruts some tractor had left at the side of a field, creating something that might once have resembled a road, but was now almost too overgrown to see except for the lack of grass growing there yet. A few more years, and it would be gone completely.

“You know, you don’t have to be quite so happy about being stuck with me,” I remarked as I followed him, letting my gaze roam over the left side while he took the right.

“That’s not it,” Bates insisted, his ponytail flipping to the side as he glanced back at me.

“Then what is? I know that you’re not my biggest fan where my fighting strength is concerned.”

He gave a noncommittal grunt. “Would I rather someone had my back who’s been holding guns for longer than a couple months? Always. But I’ve seen you shoot plenty. I’m not afraid you’ll flake out on me.”

“Is it because I’m a woman?” I asked, now more teasing than actually serious. His low laugh let me know what he thought of that accusation.

“Nope.”

“Do we have to continue playing twenty questions?” I wanted to know.

He hesitated, but finally spilled the beans. “I’m not afraid of what you can or cannot do, but what I might not be able to.”

“Like what?”

Another pause followed. “I know that we all like to pretend that you’re just one of us, but let’s be frank here for a moment. What do you think he’ll do to me if I don’t bring you back in one piece? Ever considered that?”

I actually hadn’t, and the frown on my face probably spoke volumes. “You’re not my babysitter. If I screw up and get hurt, that’s not your fault.”

“Maybe not my fault, but my fuckup to deal with nonetheless,” Bates stated. “And stop glaring at me like that. We all know that we’re not created equal, and that’s a good thing. Helps keep everyone sharp and in line when you have to take care of each other and sometimes pick up someone else’s slack. Can’t really complain about something when our rookie keeps her trap shut, right?”

That actually made me laugh. “Like I’m ever silent about anything.”

“If you say it, we don’t have to,” he remarked. “And considering you’re screwing the boss, your word might weigh more than mine.”

“Trust me, that’s so not true. If anything, that gets me an automatic ten percent extra rejection chance.”

Bates considered that for a moment, and I could already tell that his answer would be one of those that made me want to punch him, and for a very good reason.

“You know, if you ever tire of him being such a jackass, you can always come to me. My bedroll’s always open for you.”

“Gee, thanks,” I griped, but couldn’t help the grin spreading on my face. “I just don’t think I’m your type.”

“Trust me. After an entire winter of not getting any ass, anything that’s even remotely female is my type,” he replied, giving me a leer that was less playful than I was entirely comfortable with.

“Now that totally makes me want to jump your bones,” I offered. “Did that ever actually get you any? Claiming you’d just fuck anything with tits on two legs?”

He considered for a moment. “If she’s pretty, I’d probably do a tranny, too.”

“Just shut the hell up,” I advised, pretending that the scope on my sniper rifle needed adjusting.
 

“Yes, ma’am,” he quipped back, but dutifully kept his pie hole closed. This was going to be a long day, I just knew it.

Chapter 16

A good two hours later, and I was kind of regretting my decision to stand up to Nate and demand that I was included in the scouting. Not because it was hot under all my gear and I was sweating like a pig, or I was equally bored out of my mind, just with a touch of anxiety caused by latent danger to spice things up.

No, because I was sweating like a pig because I was scared out of my mind, and there was nothing diminutive about the paralyzing dread that had taken hold of my stomach.
 

It had all started so well.

After setting out from our camp, it had soon become apparent why Nate had teamed me up with Bates. Even with being utterly careful, the guys had managed to both map the terrain, and get some intel on where the group of cannibals was operating right now. They’d found a farm and two barns about a mile away each that seemed to serve as their base—a guess confirmed by the presence of people and cars aplenty. Now, the part of the territory that Bates and Clark had been supposed to stake out was a stretch of land to the south that was supposedly deserted. None of the patrols that had been observed had driven anywhere south, and there were no other signs of activity. We even had to dispose of about ten shamblers on our way there, making it yet more obvious that this was not part of the somewhat cleared territory that was well-maintained with perimeter guard circuits not unlike those we’d kept at the bunker.

So, inevitably, we’d let our guard down. And now that had come to bite us in the ass.

Standard operational procedure dictated that for no reason whatsoever were we ever allowed not to cover our partner’s back. Nate had drilled that into me in the most pertinent way during the winter season, not even turning his back on me when I had to take care of business while we were out, leading to a lot of awkward, uncomfortable moments, at least on my side. I thought that lesson had stuck, although I did turn away most of the time, simply because I so didn’t need to see every single cock of the unit streaming piss all over rocks and trees. It was kind of convenient when I ran out of toilet paper, though.

Why in the name of all that was holy I didn’t protest when Bates declared that he had to take a shit—alone—and I’d remained on the small rise, cushioned on the high grass as I scanned the area below through the scope of my M24, I couldn’t remember. Plain fucking stupidity, likely. Complacency, for sure. We’d been there for twenty minutes already, eating a light lunch and giving Bates time to finish the topographical map he was drawing. The area had been cleared, there were no zombies anywhere in sight, and when I’d noticed that Bates pulled a rather worn-looking magazine from his pack—that he left next to me—I’d consciously decided that this I so didn’t need to be a part of. I’d also pulled the earpiece off when I realized that Bates hadn’t turned off the mic. Classy.