Green Fields (Book 4): Extinction (23 page)

The gate was rolled to the side as we came to a momentary halt behind the ATVs. As soon as the way was clear, the ATVs started forward, going at an easy pace. I accelerated, hard-pressed to divide my attention between following them, and continuing to gawk at everything that lay beyond the extensive defenses. There were lines painted all over the tarmac, way too many to make sense of at first glance, but the ATVs seemed to know where they were heading, speeding through the chaos that reigned inside the gates. For the next minutes I was busy following them, trying not to run over anyone stumbling around, or crashing into one of the cars, bikes, and ATVs that were zooming across the road. We went by the hangar that I’d snuck through last summer and on by the bunkers that we hadn’t dared get close to. The ATVs directed us on to almost the end of the runway where they split up, ours going right, the other left, before they both stopped. The girl with the board dropped it as she jumped from the back of the vehicle, directing us onto the—clearly cordoned-off—space behind her. There was easily room for twenty cars, leaving our six to spread out in somewhat of a semi-circle around her. Grass, longer than the average lawn but clearly well-maintained, started about thirty feet from where I brought the Rover to a final stop.

I turned the engine off and looked at Nate, catching a small smile from him in return. This all seemed somewhat strange, but nothing I felt like objecting to—and he obviously agreed with me.

Getting out of the car was great. Doing so without needing to wear my jacket or grab my shotgun was awesome, although it made me feel just a little naked. The first thing that hit me was the scent. The scent of humans. Not the clean air I smelled whenever I was standing on a rise or hill top and the wind blew in my face. Not the cloying scent of decay that made my hackles rise and get my gun ready, because somewhere around me, a zombie or ten were hiding. Not even the scent of the settlements, with manure and woodsmoke hanging over everything. No, Dispatch smelled of… city. Exhaust fumes. Spicy cooking aromas. And people. Hundreds and hundreds of people, either lazing around or going about their busy day.

I wasn’t the only one who needed a couple of minutes to acclimate, judging from how the others were also looking around. Across the tarmac, I saw the Chargers already dispersing, only Jason and Charlie remaining behind as they chatted with the crew of their ATV.
 

“Okay, girls and boys, gather round,” the blonde from our ATV hollered, bringing a momentary end to our intense scrutiny of the surroundings. She was smiling, our behavior clearly within the range of what she’d expected. “First time here, right?”

A few of the guys murmured something between them but no one said anything in reply, but just looked my way. Nate smirked at me when I raised my brows at him, so I stepped forward, figuring I might as well do my job.

“Since you started settling here, yes,” I replied, then offered the girl my hand. “Bree.”

She eyed me critically as she shook it. “Kandace, but everyone calls me Candy. I’ll explain everything quick, then you can be on your way.” She turned toward the hangar and tower that were clearly visible, looming over everything else. “Over there, that’s our main command hub and the radio station. If you need to talk to anyone in charge, you’ll likely find them there. Our body shop is on the other side, so if you need any mods for the cars, that’s where you should look first. Ammo and weapons are over there, by the range and the bunkers.” She turned again, nodding toward the neat rows of houses that I figured used to be base housing. Now, a sea of tents was spreading all around them, somewhat more orderly than the tent town outside the gates, but not by much. “And that over there are quarters, the markets and bazaars, and everything else. Now that it’s warm we transferred the mess hall outside. Breakfast is from sunup until ten, lunch is from eleven to three, and dinner’s when the meat’s done until the last drunk has keeled over. Every morning we have a thirty-minute exercise course that most of the permanent residents join in. You’re invited, provided you can get up and drag yourself over there.” When I raised my brows at that, she flashed me a quick grin. “Most groups who come here the first time aren’t even starting to get sober by then. It’s quite a lot of fun to run by all the bleary-eyed drunks.” Nodding at the end of the tarmac she added, “We also have a pond over there. It’s a little chilly yet for recreational swimming, but nothing beats a quick douse after you’ve sweated like a dog.” She did a quick look around our group. “Any questions? Oh, and the whorehouse is at the back of the command center, right adjacent to the body shop.”

I felt like rolling my eyes at the appreciative murmurs that tidbit gained, but who was I to harp at the guys? I was sure that the Ice Queen would do the job for me, if Aurora had been any indication.
 

When no one spoke up, Candy resumed her talk after reaching into her pocket and getting out a bunch of what looked like poker chips. “Pass that around, will you?” she told Andrej, who was standing closest to her. “These are tokens for the hot water showers. We have running water in the command center complex, but everywhere else, you’re down to heaters and buckets. But for every five-day period that you stay here, you get one token for a ten-minute long hot shower. You can exchange it for something else, but really, you shouldn’t. Food is free here and I’m sure that you have your booze stores on the road with you, so get cleaned up good once in a while. The girls appreciate it, too, if you don’t reek of zombie ass. Which reminds me of something else. I’m sure you know how to behave yourselves. We don’t have a police force here, but we do try to keep the peace. We don’t tolerate theft, and if you attack someone unprovoked, don’t expect not to be kicked out on the spot. As long as everyone behaves themselves, things are better for all of us. You know who your troublemakers are. Keep an eye on them, and it should all be good.”

More murmuring and nodding commenced. It was obvious that all of them wanted this pep talk to be over so they could do whatever they wanted—and I didn’t think for a second that browsing for new gear was on anyone’s mind.

“What about trading?” I asked when it became obvious that no one else would.

Candy shrugged. “If you have anything you want to get rid of, I’m sure you can find someone to trade with at the bazaar. If it’s something for the settlements, we have a drop-off at the market, by the post office. If you plan on heading to one of the settlements next, go there and they’ll hand over pre-packaged boxes for the towns, and their mailbags. But you don’t need to contribute anything, and you don’t need to do the drop-offs, either. Just if it’s convenient for you. They have to let you in if you’re delivering their goods, right?”

That comment made me guess that we hadn’t been the only ones who had met with reluctance where entry was concerned.
 

“We don’t know yet where we’re heading next,” I replied.

I got another bright grin for that. “Sure you don’t. Go explore our little dig here. Get drunk, use the amenities, relax. In a day or two you can drop by the blackboard where we have all the open jobs pinned up. Maybe something strikes your fancy. Or you do a random delivery to one of the settlements, and in a week or so you’re back for some more R&R. Whatever floats your boat. You’re welcome here for five days, but if you want to stay longer, just talk to Command. I’m sure that, with your track record, they’ll make an exception. But most of the better equipped groups are out of here in under a week. You guys wouldn’t be out there all the time if you wanted to settle down.” Her smile grew as she watched Santos fidget. “But I see, I’m starting to bore you. As I said, don’t be stupid, take care of your group, and most of all, have a great time here! You’ve earned it.”

She hopped back onto the ATV and tapped the driver on the shoulder, making him rev the engine and take off across the tarmac, easily going three times the speed I would have dared use in such a crowded place. I looked after them until Martinez handed me my token, making me eye it with curiosity before I pocketed it. A hot shower sounded really good.

“Do you need anything from the car?” Nate asked, pulling me back to the here and now. When I just looked at him, he grunted. “The damage from our little chase action needs to be looked at, and Andrej’s been working on some plans for how to add more armor plating. We’re driving the smaller three cars over to the garage now to see what we can do. Do you need any of your crap until we have it back?”

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who was in desperate need of some time alone.

I gave Nate the toothy grin he deserved. “If you are referring to my shotguns as ‘crap’ again, I’m going to punch you.”

“You can try,” he taunted, but shook his head. “Handguns and knife should do for now. Don’t think you’ll need anything else in the meantime. And we still have the caches in the other cars.” He checked his watch. It was just before noon, the sun beating down on us hot enough that I wondered if I could ditch my pants and just wear shorts—but I couldn’t help but feel like that would have been pushing it. Just feeling the warmth on my bare arms and face was divine.
 

“I think I’ll get some chow in the meantime, and take a look around.”

Nate nodded and walked around the car, grumbling under his breath as he adjusted not just my seat, but also all three mirrors. I felt like griping at him that he only did that to spite me, but swallowed the remark. It so wasn’t worth it. Andrej was already taking off, with Taylor quickly following behind. Nate stopped after reversing the car, going as far as letting his window down as he squinted at me. “Meet me at the whorehouse at three.” And then, he was gone, leaving me staring after him with my mouth half open, not sure if I should have railed at him with indignity, or whether it was a lost cause to begin with.

Martinez joined me, chuckling softly, clearly having heard that last part loud and clear. I silently dared him to say something, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. “Do I even want to ask?” I offered.

I got a shrug for that. “Likely not. But, as they say, you’ll find out sooner or later.”

Shaking my head in annoyance, I looked around, realizing that we were actually the last two remaining, except for Burns where he was chatting with Jason. From what I could see of the Chargers’ camp, it was as abandoned as ours. Sauntering over to them, I got twin grins that let me know that Nate’s holler had carried over to them, too. Jason at least had the tact to avert his eyes. Burns winked at me.

I chose to ignore them. “So what’s worth checking out in this town, or whatever it is?”

Jason shrugged. “How about we grab some lunch first. I can introduce you to a few people. Show you where the important business is done. And there’s the Wall.” The way he stressed the word, it was clearly capitalized.

“The Wall?”

“You’ll see,” he replied.

The four of us set out toward the main buildings, keeping to the side of the tarmac. There were huddles of cars evenly spaced along the side of the runway, just like ours. Most were temporarily abandoned, their owners engaged elsewhere, or sleeping their hangover off under tarps spanned between the vehicles. The closer we got to the base proper, the more ATVs and dirt bikes zoomed to and fro, weaving effortlessly between the people standing and walking around everywhere. I knew that it was stupid, but I couldn’t quite quench the unease creeping up my spine. It must have been quite obvious from the way Jason smirked at me, but he kept his tone jovial as he spoke up.

“Not used to being among people anymore, eh?”

I shrugged. “People, yes. But not hundreds of them.”

“More like thousands,” he explained. “Last time we were here, estimates were that there are about fifteen hundred permanent residents in Dispatch, with up to two times that many just dropping by for a couple days. And that’s not counting what’s going on over there, on the other side of the fence.” He nodded at the tent town we’d driven around as we’d come in.

Burns frowned at the mass of multi-colored tents. He didn’t have to voice his thoughts. They were a real liability, even if zombies didn’t make it through the perimeter. No running water, likely no strict latrine digging detail; it was a recipe for disaster, of the disease kind. “Yeah? What’s up with that anyway?” he asked.

Jason gave a noncommittal grunt. “Still enough idiots out there who believe they’re better off not throwing their lot in with us.” His gaze briefly flitted over to Martinez and me before it returned to Burns. “Not everyone’s as unconcerned about you as your folks.”

Burns flashed him a bright grin. “And rightly so. I can easily bench-press the lot of them.”

Martinez chuckled while I shook my head. At Jason’s frown I offered a succinct, “He literally can. And did. If you count doing push-ups with Martinez and me sitting on his back. Don’t ask. It was a long year.”

We reached the part of the runway that opened up to the tarmac leading to the hangar doors, where we encountered a peculiar sight. Three women were sitting in lawn chairs at the side of the road, complete with sun glasses and flip-flops, next to what looked like a rather hefty machine gun mounted on a tripod. They looked straight out of a “Girls with Guns” commercial. Two of them were waving and shouting to people passing by. More than a few men stopped to chat for a few moments, but usually moved on after getting a snarky comeback from the ladies.

As we drew closer, the middle one—a blonde bombshell with skin just a tad lighter than Burns’s—stuck her fingers between her lips and whistled, making Jason chuckle.