Resurgence: Green Fields book 5 (23 page)

Even with me packing more of a punch than I was used to, it was still not an evenly matched fight. I might have recovered from almost dying as far as driving around was concerned, but I wasn’t quite back to full health where stamina was concerned. That became even more obvious when I managed to land another well-placed kick, this one to the side of his torso, but on the way down I almost fell to the floor, my leg muscles spasming and about to give out. I fully expected Nate to follow up with some good old-fashioned retaliation, but he relaxed instead, eyeing me critically. Too critically, really, as if he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“What?” I wanted to know, not having to bow over from exertion but feeling about as resilient as an overcooked noodle.
 

“Notice something different?” he asked, allowing himself a small smile when I glared right back at him. “Like the fact that you can suddenly hit me like a freight train, but from one moment to the next your energy is all but spent?”

“Now that you mention it…” I admitted, disliking that he was right. As usual. “What’s up with that? Because if I’m not entirely mistaken, demonstrating that was your goal with all this. Not making me feel good about socking you a good one.”

Before Nate could answer, Pia did. “It is what we consider our greatest advantage as much as our most dangerous flaw. You’re still used to exhaustion and strength being two opposed ends of the same scale. That is a thing of the past.”

That sounded cryptic enough that it made my hackles rise. “Which means exactly what?”

Nate shrugged. “You have a set amount of energy at your disposition. You can choose to spend it in one massive burst, or a drawn-out trickle. Kill Usain Bolt on the short track, or chase a pack of marathon runners through an entire race. As long as your body has energy to burn, it will.”

“And once it runs out?” I asked, although the exhaustion ebbing through me gave me my answer.

“Worst case?” Nate proposed, “you die. Before, you couldn’t run yourself ragged because sooner or later your body would have given out and forced you to recuperate. Now it has lost that ability. You will, of course, feel the closer to the end you come, but your body won’t fold automatically. You better make sure to either learn to moderate yourself, or you keep some high-value food at hand.”

That was enough of a warning to give me pause, but only until my mind caught up to exactly how far this could reach. “Just a guess. If I had unlimited fat and carbs to burn—“

“You could run forever,” Pia agreed with my assessment. The finality with which she said that made me guess that she spoke from experience.

Burns let our a guffaw. “Used to be a pretty sweet deal. Just pack some dextrose, and you were good to go for a twenty-four-hour mission. After that damn factory, I don’t need to explain to you why that’s not flying anymore.”

I nodded. None of us needed that reminder. “So jerky and nuts it is, now?” I hazarded a guess.

“About,” Nate replied. “Doesn’t give quite the same kick, but in the long run it’s a better basis. And now you know why we always raid the nuts in any store that we find. You should make a habit of doing that as well.”

“Why tell me that now?” I wanted to know. “And demonstrate. I thought we were beyond the point where we’re petty enough that you need me to land on my ass to get a point across.”

He gave me a look that questioned whether that would ever be the case with me, but his reply was neutral enough. “What I should do is have you run alongside the cars until you break down. Three times minimum, five would be better. I should make you do every single kind of drill I could think of so that you get used to your new abilities. But we don’t have the time for that, and you’re right when you object that you’re not yet at your full strength.”

“Didn’t say anything,” I objected.

“You were about to,” he remarked. “I know you well enough to be able to have these conversations on my own. Let this little demonstration be a lesson to you. I’m done playing drill sergeant for you. It’s up to you to do with your body as you see fit.”

Not for the first time in the last twenty-four hours I questioned whether it had been my sanest idea to get his name permanently inked on my ass, but unlike before, his taunt didn’t make me go off in his face. Oh, the temptation was still there, but somehow, almost dying had shoved a muffler on my temper.

“You’re right. It is. Thank you for the lesson.” I didn’t know who looked more surprised at my acquiescence, Nate or Pia, with Burns a close third. I couldn’t hide a smirk at that, likely destroying what little ground I’d just gained. “Oh, come on. It’s not that out of the ordinary that I agree with you on something. You’re right with the drills, but it’s too damn hot out there for this shit right now. And if I have limited resources, I don’t want to waste them on a stupid jog if maybe I have to run from real danger later. But if any of you fine specimen would, in the future, help me test out my limits, I’d be much obliged.”

I fully expected for either Nate or Pia to object when I turned away, but no one held me back. Either they were happy to let me find out on my own just how fucked I was now, or it had been their intention to only get the message across that, maybe, I should be more careful now. The message certainly hadn’t sunk in yet, not completely. I didn’t doubt that it was only a matter of days until I somehow managed to overexert myself, only to find Burns ready with a protein bar by my side. He would love that, pretending to be my knight in shining armor. It was something Bates would have done. So much for my good mood.

Dinner was a muted affair. It was great not to be out there on our own again, and I could tell that the others were quite happy that all of us were reunited once more. But the fact of the matter was that we had lost two of our own, almost three, and I could tell that me remaining quiet and somewhat subdued didn’t help make anyone feel like nothing had changed.
 

As I had the graveyard shift, I went straight to bed in the Rover once the small fire had died down, not surprised when Nate didn’t join me. He and Pia had been busy discussing something most of the evening, so it made sense that they would continue now. Maybe he was even considerate enough to give me some time to fall asleep so I didn’t have to acknowledge his presence later. Yet while I was tired, not having to watch everything like a teared-up hawk anymore during the day had left me less drained than expected, and I was still wide awake by the time he ducked into the passenger side seat. I could have pretended to be asleep, but I didn’t really want to. My anger from yesterday hadn’t exactly disappeared, but that didn’t mean that I felt like biting his head off.

He stretched out on his sleeping bag in the reclined seat and stared out the window for a good five minutes before he let out a low sigh and turned his head to look at me.

“Still mad at me?” he guessed.

I shrugged, not knowing what to reply.
 
“Will you behave like a jerk again if I say ‘no’?”

A hint of a smile ghosted over his features but was gone before it could take hold. “That’s only fun when I can get a rise out of you. Not when you’re actually wallowing in misery.” That he winced at his own words took some of the sting out of them.

Snorting, I stretched, trying to get a little more comfortable. “So now I’m wallowing? Exactly where is that line between wallowing and grieving? Exactly how many hours of normal, healthy human emotion am I allowed before you call me out for being such a girl again?” That came out sharper than I had intended, but thankfully it bounced right off him.

“Eleven hours and forty-five minutes,” he replied dryly. “Do you want a list?”

“Do I look like I’d read it?” I snarked back, but with a loud exhale I forced myself to become serious again. “No, I’m no longer mad at you. And I can keep my grief to myself.” I paused, thinking. “It’s not even knowing about the baby. Or losing Cho. And Bailey. It’s…” Words failed me so I trailed off there, staring into space as I tried to express what was weighing on my chest heavily enough to make breathing impossible. “It’s everything, all put together.”

Rather than make fun of me, Nate just waited for me to go on. When I didn’t, he asked, “Want to talk about it?”

The statement that we were already doing that was burning on my tongue, but I swallowed it unsaid. “Things were going so well. Know what I mean?” He nodded, but I still explained. “Last year was shit. Just one giant, steaming pile of shit and misery. But then, at the bunker, over the winter, I think I got complacent. I started to expect that everything would continue like this. And it looked like it would, with us being the top dogs out there. I mean, shit, it only took thirteen of us to take down more than three times that many assholes at the cannibal compound. And if we hadn’t been so stupid about the planning, we wouldn’t have lost Bates. That threw me for a loop, sure, and it was a much-needed reality check, but after Aurora, I felt like we were invincible. Like nothing could best us, and we were on top of the world again. Just take Harristown. Or Sioux Falls, for that matter. We did shit no one else could expect to survive, and came out unscathed at the other end. At Dispatch, they celebrated us like heroes. Same at the Silo, even though they were a little less exuberant about it. And I was stupid enough to buy into all that bullshit.”

Now it was a sad smile that crossed Nate’s face. “You do know that all of that was well-deserved and hard fought for.”

“And what difference did that make at the factory? None.” I grunted. “The only reason any of us got out of there was that Hamilton underestimated just how insane your suicide pact plan was. Next time they’ll just shoot us on principle so we can’t pull a stunt like that again. And that asshole that shot Cho and me? Why did I trust that anyone would value human lives over a stupid order?” I let that hang in the air between us for a second. “We were on top of the world, and then reality punched us back to where we belong. Guess I mostly feel stupid because I didn’t see it coming. Because, again, I was an idealistic, stupid idiot who thought that we deserved a break. That we deserved to luck out and get ahead and leave last year’s bullshit behind.”

Nate hesitated, but then reached out, squeezing my upper arm for emphasis.

“You and me both,” he offered. At my bland look he smirked. “Think you’re the only one who got that delusional? Do you have any idea how often I’ve been kicking myself over the past year? I fucked up so much, and every single time every mistake I made came back to bite me in the ass. The takeover of the Green Fields Biotech building was supposed to be a clean op. Nobody needed to get hurt. That’s why I spent half a year sending people who have special ops level training to wipe floors and empty the trash. And it was my own fault that the bitch that murdered my brother could end her own life before I got any answers out of her. I will never know why she did it, and who made her do it. Because one thing I know—whatever her personal animosities toward my brother, she didn’t infect Raleigh just because she hated his guts. I’ve seen enough people crippled with guilt to know that’s the very thing that happened to her. I will never know who was behind it. Or why. But even ignoring that, we dawdled. That lost me a good twenty people when Bucky and his flunkies came storming the building. There were over fifty of us left once we bailed, and even with seven defecting, I doubt that any of those that struck out on their own made it. So another thirty lives lost, a lot of them in the effort to buy us time to get away. Then Thompson. Innes. Bates. Bailey. I’ve known all of them for years. Cho, too, even if it was just thirteen months. And you…”

That was where he trailed off, grimacing. “What about me?” I nudged him, kind of curious.

Nate pulled up his shoulder in a shrug. “There is so much I would do differently if I could turn back time. I know the point is moot, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel impotent sometimes.”

“Oh, come on. You managed the impossible and knocked me up even if every single scientist in this entire country would have sworn that you couldn’t. Impotence is not the thing you have to worry about.”

For just a moment that usual twist of condescension and challenge made his eyes light up. “Ah, I see. We’re back to inane innuendo. Must mean you’re actually done with feeling sorry for yourself.”

“I can multitask,” I insisted.

“Whatever,” he said, laughing softly when I gave him a playfully scandalized look. “In the end, it all doesn’t matter. We all have our ghosts haunting us. The only thing we can do is move on. Take the bad with the good. You have to be alive to feel sorry for yourself, and that outweighs everything else.”

“Being alive?” I asked. He nodded. “Feels kind of overrated to me.”

Nate shook his head, surprisingly vehemently so. “It is the only thing that’s important. Tomorrow. Next year. Ten years down the road no one will care anymore where you fucked up and what mistakes you made. It sounds like a pathetic motivational slogan, but you only live once. I was wrong when I decided not to stay longer in Dispatch. Next time we get a chance like that, we take it. We make the most out of every single potentially great moment that we can, so that when we’re back in the next hellhole, we know what we’re fighting for—and that is to live another day. I’m not saying that we should all be egotistical assholes out only for ourselves, but how can we help anyone else if we don’t make it?”

“Just like the safety instructions for flying?” I proposed. “Put on your own breathing mask first before you help someone else?”

It felt surprisingly good to get a scoff from him for that. “Oh, keep making fun of me. I’ll remind you of that next time when we hit a bump in the road and you screw up exactly because you didn’t follow my orders.”

Smiling, I rolled back onto my side, facing him. “I thought those were more like suggestions?”

“You’re one breath away from me proving to you just how much they are not suggestions,” he ground out, wagging his brows at me in such a comical way that I burst out laughing. “Stop it,” he snarled. “Or do I have to come over there to shut you up?” A pause. “Unless that’s exactly what you want me to do?”