Green Fields (Book 3): Escalation (6 page)

Before
, our drive would have taken barely more than twenty minutes, but now we made sure to move slowly enough not to attract attention. The mob might have been taken care of, but there were still zombies aplenty in the region, even with our cleanup effort. Scouring an entire state was impossible, and the shamblers, even half frozen, were mobile enough to invade a county on one end as soon as we cleared out the other. And except for our perimeter, we hadn’t really put an effort into it. Considering the likely fate of the recent mob, the task seemed futile at best.

As lead car, it was not only my responsibility to find the right route—and what did I have the dead weight on my passenger seat for if not to navigate—but also keep a lookout for any obstacles that might bog down the entire group. That was something we hadn’t really been able to train yet, and while we’d done a few sorties with a second car in tow, this was the first time that I actually felt like I was leading anything. Not sure if I liked the idea, but it could have been worse.

We made it to Meeteetse without any incidents, coming to the town from the northwest. Nothing moved anywhere in sight, and I was sure that through his binoculars, Nate was checking our meeting point just beyond the bridge to the south. Not knowing from where the others would be coming from—or if they were squatting in town—we parked the cars right there, and after a quick discussion split up, half checking out the RV park and motel next to the cars, the others crossing the bridge to check the meeting point and then continue down the main street to look for something else that might be worth investigating. I was in the first group, for once not teamed up with Nate, but the fact that not just he, but also Andrej and Burns went across the bridge told me that they weren’t quite that convinced that the town was free of shamblers. I didn’t mind hanging out with Bates and Pia, although having her around guaranteed that we were on our best behavior.
 

As might have been to be expected, we didn’t really find much useful stuff, and only four zombies locked in the RVs. Not many people had been out camping in May when the outbreak happened, particularly after the country had been wrecked by a week’s worth of what everyone thought of as a particularly nasty flu outbreak. There were some canned goods and the odd hunting rifle, but the other team would likely find better pickings if they cleared out the few restaurants that the town had, right at the meeting point. Then again, those had likely been looted even before the undead came to haunt us all, so who knew?
 

We met up again about twenty minutes before our allotted meeting time—and found the group who had supposedly answered our message advancing from the south, eyeing us with all the suspicion and caution that we were likely portraying. They were only five people, coming on foot, but way beyond the town limits I could see a pickup truck sitting at the shoulder of the road that hadn’t been there before. The fact that it wasn’t covered in snow drifts was a dead giveaway. Like us, they were all armed, if not quite toting the same arsenal. Parkas and thick woolen hats covered them up well enough to make it impossible to recognize anyone—had we met them before, that is—but judging from height and size, I figured that all of them were men.
 

They stopped about fifty yards away from where our two groups were spread across the road, not quite incidentally blocking the way over the bridge to where our cars were parked. One of them took a few steps closer, clearly the leader. We remained spread out—standing procedure until we could be sure that not another twenty would fall on us from the rear.

“You the folks who left the black scrawl on the side of the house?” he called out, his voice a low baritone.
 

“We are,” Burns replied, his assault rifle held maybe a hint more at ease than our other weapons. That we had them out shouldn’t have been alarming to the others, same as the fact that their hunting rifles were all just moments away from firing shots didn’t send off any warning bells. Even in a quiet town, a shambler could surprise you. And after nine months, I was sure that they’d learned that lesson.

“You all look mighty well equipped,” a second guy remarked, sounding not exactly happy about that.

“Just a precaution,” Martinez assured. “Unless you draw on us, we won’t gun you down for no reason. We’re just ready to defend ourselves and our gear.”

The first guy nodded, still cautious but relaxing a little now that a minute had passed and no shot had been fired yet.

“Name’s Roger. And this is Seth, my brother.” He nodded at the second speaker.

“Nice to meet you, Roger. Seth,” Burns replied, deliberately not giving any name. Even with the hood of his parka up, I could see Roger frown, and he squinted at each of us in turn, although I got dismissed the quickest. Typical.

“Who’s your leader?” he asked when he clearly came up blank.

“That would be me,” Nate offered from where he’d been standing to the side, getting almost as little notice as me. Roger didn’t bother with looking appalled, though.

“That all of you?”

“No.”

Listening to Nate’s singular answer, I couldn’t help but crack a small smile. I hated it when he did that to me, but it seemed rather effective when applied to others.
 

Roger reached up with his free hand to scratch his chin. “Lemme guess. You’re not going to tell us how many more there are of you, and where your base is.”

“Absolutely not,” Nate agreed, now smiling slightly himself. “But mostly because it doesn’t matter. Not because we’re complete conspiracy nuts, the lot of us.” Which was probably not quite true, but so not a topic for a first meeting.

Roger nodded, understanding. “We have families home, too. You not from around here?”

Nate hesitated, but then inclined his head. “But I’ve spent some quality time around before the shit hit the fan. Enough time to know the terrain, and have a place to get to.”

“Guess you’re the guys who keep rounding up those fuckers?” He absently looked at a heap at the side of the road that I thought might have been a dog once, but I was probably deluding myself there. “Been making quite the racket over the past days.”

Nate shrugged. “We ran into an entire mob of them two days ago, including women and children. Probably only turned a few weeks ago, judging from the state they were in. Might have become problematic if we’d just let them roam.”

“Oh, not complaining here,” Seth interjected, offering a somewhat shaky laugh. “Just glad we didn’t need to risk our lives doing so. So, yeah, guess what I’m trying to say is thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Nate replied with a small nod. “That’s what we’re here for.”

Silence fell as Roger and his men seemed to contemplate that.

“So, you guys planning to stay?” he asked, squinting at us again. “Just sayin’, would be good to know that we have someone close who can handle themselves.”

“Some of us will stay,” Nate replied surprisingly candid. “The rest of us will set out to get more gear. And food.”

Roger nodded, although he didn’t look too happy about the news. “Guess you’re running on empty by now, too? We’ve been eating cold noodles for two weeks now. Just isn’t the same as bloody steak.”

“Not had one of those in what feels like forever,” Nate replied. “We don’t really have much to share, but maybe we can come to some kind of arrangement.”

“Like what?” Seth sounded appropriately suspicious again.

“As you said, we’ve been trying to clear up the region and keep it as safe as possible. We’ll also set up some fields as soon as the ground is ready to be farmed. But we could use some help, with both. Spread out the risk, if you know what I mean? The more people that are out on patrol and keep an eye on each other, the safer the entire region will be. The more different crops we sow in several places, the least likely that they will all fail. And if you want to, we can see if we find whatever else you need. We still have a decent amount of bandages and batteries stocked up, if you’re running out of those.”

Roger and Seth looked at each other, then at their men, before Roger answered.

“And why should we trust you? No offense, but we’ve heard stories. And you’re clearly equipped to make quite the nuisance of your fine selves if you so choose.”

“Stories about us?” Nate asked, an almost teasing quality to his voice that immediately set my nerves on edge.

“No, no. Just folks in general,” Roger was quick to qualify. “You know, them going mad. Doing things no sane man would do. Putting the rotting fuckers to shame, even.”

“You mean like cannibals?” I asked, unable to keep quiet any longer. I was certain that I’d get a glare or two from Nate for that, but unless I was completely mistaken, this really wasn’t a setup. And besides, they would have had to be blind not to realize that I was a woman.

Seth didn’t even bat an eyelash at getting a confirmation of what I was hiding under all those layers of insulation. “Yes, ma’am. Just last week we heard of another convoy that disappeared. Nasty business.”

That could have been for many reasons, but I had to admit, it wasn’t hard to jump to certain conclusions.

“You heard? Were there any survivors?”

He shook his head. “Came over the radio. Someone found a couple of cars, burned out, still smoldering. They didn’t even raid the gear first, but just set the things on fire. Two bodies burned, too. Small kids, too small to pack enough meat, you know?”

I wondered why Dave hadn’t relayed that story to us; normally, he was quick to whip out the newest gossip.

“Any idea where that was?” Nate asked, not exactly concerned but properly cautious.

Roger shook his head. “Didn’t hear it from the source. Hell, even they didn’t hear it from anyone firsthand.” He spat out, then looked at me with an almost guilty expression, but I didn’t react. Really, if he thought that would upset me, how did he think I’d survived this far? Although Emma would have frowned. Sadie, probably laughed.

“We’ll keep an ear out. Stay alert,” Nate replied.

“Did you really mean that about getting stuff for us, too?” one of the other guys suddenly spoke up, sounding hopeful.

Nate nodded. “Can’t promise we’ll find everything, but we’ll try.” Glancing to Roger and Seth, he addressed the entire group. “Why don’t we meet again next week, same day, same time, so you can check your stocks and write us a list? And talk to the other people in your group what they say about banding together to keep all of us safe and fed. No problem if you don’t want to opt in. We’ll still try to get you what you need even if you want to stay to yourselves.”

Roger and Seth both agreed, their silence otherwise making it obvious that they’d said everything they’d come here to say. But before we could call it a day, Seth spoke up again.

“There are a few more people around. At least two more groups that we know of. If you want, we can ask what they think about this thing. Like a neighborhood watch, right?”

“Pretty much that, yeah.”

“We’ll ask,” Seth agreed. “You mind if some of them maybe come here next week, too? They’ll probably be more ready to throw their lot in with you if they can see for themselves that you’re decent folks.” Of course he was looking at me when he said that, but that didn’t come as a surprise. Quite the world we were living in that suddenly, the way men treated women would make a difference.

“Tell them to come,” Nate said. “And feel free to tell them that we’ll again have snipers ready to help cover our retreat should they be up to no good.”

That got the expected scared glances all around, although I was sure that Nate had just told them a lie. Or not. Come to think of it, it was kind of suspicious that both Bailey and Collins had remained behind, although neither was up for watch detail today. Huh. What did I know? It wasn’t like I was screwing the leader, or something.

Our little powwow dissolved quickly after that, Roger, Seth, and their men retreating while we waited until their pickup was well out of town. Then it was high time for us to return home with the news, so that whoever was—potentially—lying up on one of those hills on the frozen ground could pack up and leave, too. After all, we came bearing good news—or so I hoped. Only time would tell.

Chapter 4

It was just seven days until we were back in Meeteetse, but everything had changed in that span of just a week.

Well, not everything; we were still just a bunch of survivors trying to continue to stay alive in the zombie apocalypse. But some things had changed, and they made more of a difference than I’d expected. For one, spring was finally coming, and there was no denying that now. The mountains were still capped in white, but in the lowlands, the ground was thawing, water running everywhere. The grass was still brown but the first green leaves were slowly fighting their way through the overgrown thickets. Game animals returned gradually, now that we’d done away with what had been preying on them, but few and far between compared to last fall. It stood to hope that their populations would explode, with food in abundance now and our quickly hatched plan taking care of their peek predators. It still rankled that homo sapiens—at least the living kind—was no longer at the top of the food chain, but I was sure that somewhere, hidden away in a field of weed, some hippies were rejoicing. But more game would mean more food this year when the next winter approached, and hopefully not a repeat of the applesauce-pocalypse. So much for zombies doing away with first-world problems.