Resurgence: Green Fields book 5 (24 page)

I gave that some thought while I tried to rein in my mirth. “Just because I no longer want to punch you in the junk doesn’t mean I want it anywhere near me.”

“I thought it was my face mostly?” he teased.

“I’m beyond prettying you up,” I replied.

He snorted, definitely amused, but narrowed his eyes at me. “That bothers me. You not accepting my authority.”

“What, your ego needs me to acknowledge your orders? Does it make you feel better when I say, ‘Yes, sir. No, sir. Please bend me over and fuck me, sir?’”

His mouth twisted into a grin, and the way he kept looking at me almost made want to back down from my celibacy stint.

“You know, there’s only so much you can aggravate me before I start ignoring what you say, and instead follow up on what you do,” he reminded me.

“Aw, is someone having massive blue balls here? Too bad,” I quipped.

“Stress on ‘massive.’”

“Oh, shut up,” I advised and turned around, but then peeked back over my shoulder. “Sir.”

“Bree, I’m warning you.”

My heart still felt heavy as I dozed off, but not as heavy as before. He was right—of course. When wasn’t he? There was only one way, and that was forward.

We didn’t head straight for the Wyoming Collective, but decided to do a longer detour to the east that would result in a similar vector of approach like on our very first trip to the bunker. That gave us opportunity aplenty to stock up on gear—and get new seats for the Rover. We hit a few police stations and gun dealers, but like Nate and I had discovered on our way back to the Silo, we weren’t the first who’d had similar ideas. We didn’t need much, mostly ammo, and it wasn’t hard to find some new clothes for me. I had to replace at least one entire set of body armor thanks to my old stuff having gotten shredded to bits at the factory, and it was easier to find something new than patch things up. Taylor had the bright idea to hit a mall—in and of itself not that out of the ordinary, but it was there, in the outdoor section, where he started pelting me with glacier-proof sunglasses. Why none of us had had that idea before I couldn’t say, but while they didn’t completely negate the effect sunlight had on my eyes, they helped me see more than vague splotches of color over midday.
 

We were still at that mall, the guys goofing around in the lingerie section, when Clark—our lookout—radioed in that we had unknowns approaching. Nate had been paranoid enough to have us leave the cars about a mile away, forcing us to hoof it over to the mall, and that proved to be a saving grace now. Pia ordered us into a quick retreat, but Burns and I hung back—him with his night vision goggles, me without the dark sunglasses on, hiding in one of the darkest corners of the mall to watch as a good fifty people, half of them in regular fatigues and all armed to the teeth, swarmed the mall. They were fast and organized, ignoring unimportant shit—like bras and lacy panties—to hone in on the vital supplies. Tools. Canned food. Medication. We would probably have done the same if they hadn’t dropped by. They were systematic in their approach, forcing us to soon vacate the premises as we wanted to avoid discovery. Whether they were part of whoever Bucky worked for or not, today wasn’t the day I wanted to find out. They certainly weren’t traders and scavengers, and as it was, that was enough to brand them potentially hostile. Once we were at the cars, we beat it to get away before they were done loading up the trucks they’d brought, going northeast until dusk hit us. They’d likely not been sent out to intercept us, but I didn’t feel like “too careful” was a thing anymore.

Our trek ended up leading us through the Black Hills, but the two locations that we knew people had been living in back when we’d left the bunker in spring were deserted. Someone had left notes all over the place, pointing people to head toward western Wyoming, past where the interstate bisected the state. Reading that made me instantly suspicious, but I had to admit that it made sense that after we’d left, Shayla and her people had joined forces with the increasingly more organized groups back by the bunker.
 

Somehow that made the fact that we were no longer welcome there rankle even more.

Nate called for a vote whether we should continue on with the plan, or abandon it in favor of hunkering down somewhere else. If not for Sadie’s call I thought we would have opted for just bailing on what used to be our people. In the end, only Taylor, Clark, and Pia, surprisingly, were against heading for Wyoming. When I eyed her askance once we dispersed toward the cars, she gave me a small shrug. “I could never stand that stuck-up cunt, either,” she professed, clearly referring to Emma. The fact that, of late, she and I seemed to run in sync more often than not disturbed me—but less so than it would have a year ago.
 

The next day dawned hot and bright, but about an hour after we broke camp I saw thunderclouds start to build up in the south. Long before we got close to Douglas—the site of our first encounter with too many zombies to handle at a time, and home to the Jackalope statue that, to this day, I still hadn’t seen—the sky had turned a foreboding steel gray. “Can this be any more ominous?” I asked Nate, receiving only a shrug that could have meant anything in return. I didn’t really need an answer. The hard lines of his jaw told me plainly just how much he was looking forward to this encounter.

The moment we crossed the interstate it became obvious just how much things had changed in the past months. Where in the spring the land had looked deserted but not remarkably different from how it had been before, the people of the neighborhood watch—or whatever they called it now—had been busy. They had erected stands and small posts by the roads, leaving them great getaway possibilities—and more often than not a good position to block the road and make it harder for whoever was trying to come for them that they’d rather keep at a distance. All of them looked deserted, but I didn’t doubt that there were snipers hiding around the stands, already radioing in our position. At least no one would be surprised to see us. I thought about switching the radio on, but figured that whatever business we were about to conduct here could be handled on short notice.
 

A few miles further west, about where the easternmost parts of our winter perimeter had ranged, things started to change. For one thing, the defenses became more obvious, and of the more permanent kind. They had started building a wall. For another, there were workers and guards aplenty, busy closing a gap in said wall. As we approached, they halted and stared at us, but no one moved a finger to force us to stop. All of them were wearing patched-together gear, and while the wall looked like a very sturdy construction, it didn’t resemble the palisades so many of the settlements seemed to have adopted. I let out a breath I had been holding for what felt like ages. It was one thing to expect to have some issues with Emma for various reasons, but it was still a relief to see that the Wyoming Collective meant business where being independent was concerned.

There were no signs and no one pointed out the way for us, so I just kept on driving. The wall went on for an impressive five miles before we saw a gate up ahead, surrounded by roadblocks. Guards were stationed on the lookouts left and right of it, and as we came closer, I could see that they were busy talking into their radios. I saw machine guns mounted on top of the guard posts, trained directly at the space beyond the roadblocks—very comforting, but without the two-tier box design most other gates had, it made sense to increase their active defenses.

I was pleasantly surprised—a first in what felt like forever—as I brought the Rover to a halt at the roadblocks, and saw a line of cars waiting at the other side of the gate. In near synchronicity the driver and passenger of the lead car got out as Nate and I exited, making us end up with maybe twenty yards and the gate between us.

“Looking pretty good for a dead girl!” Jason hollered across the distance, not even the dark clouds overhead able to dim the carrot-red shock of hair on top of his head. Of course we’d known that they had been here last week when Sadie had used one of their radios to reach us at the Silo, but I hadn’t dared hope that they’d stuck around.

I didn’t have to force the grin that came onto my face. “You should probably not listen to every bullshit story that someone’s telling on the radio.”

He shrugged, his eyes skipping to our cars. The worst of the damage from the chase had been repaired, but even if they were all fully functional, they looked like they’d been through a lot.

“So you weren’t stupid enough to run into a trap and ended up chewed on by zombies?” he guessed.
 

I briefly eyed the guards, but none of them looked particularly alarmed.
 

“Yeah, well, maybe that part’s true,” I offered. “But I can’t be dead and slaughtering innocents out there at the same time, right? At least not in a coherent, controlled fashion.”

Jason’s grin widened. “I’m sure that many guys really appreciate those posters, if not for the reason they were intended for.”

I couldn’t help but wince, yet seeing the perfectly pinched look on Nate’s face was so worth it. My grin from before resurfaced as I snorted at him. “What, not happy that random assholes all over the country now use your wife’s likeliness for recreational purposes?”

“Why, unhappy that you don’t have other options now?” he snarked back, the hint of a smile curving his lips up. Ah, but it felt good to banter like that again, even if my heart wasn’t completely in it yet.
 

When I turned back to Jason, I found him practically beaming at us. “Did I hear that right? You finally got hitched?” I nodded, trying for somber, but likely failing by a mile. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” I shouted back. “I do reserve the right to plead temporary insanity.”

“Of course you do!” Jason said, then turned around at the sound of a vehicle approaching. Vehicles, as it turned out—a small SUV, followed and was then passed by two ATVs. One of the quads came to a halt first, and as soon as it stopped, Sadie exploded off the back seat, ducking underneath the booms of the gate and hurling herself at Nate. Neither of us had exited the car armed, so nothing kept him from hugging her tight before he swung her around like a girl a quarter her age—but she still squealed as if she were five years old. The first time they’d done this it had been the understatement of the century to say that I’d been irritated, but now it made me smile. I got my own, very warm and strong hug from her next, but there was a clear hierarchy of affection going on.

“I’m so happy you could make it!” she practically cooed as she finally stepped back, smiling, but I didn’t miss the nervous jitter in her voice.
 

Anything I might have replied I swallowed in favor of looking at the other people now assembling behind the gate. Emma and her husband Bert, next to a few other people who were looking mighty important. The second ATV took off as soon as Dave, one half of the local radio and conspiracy nuts duo, had slid off. He didn’t exactly look clueless, but the way he kept eyeing us I got the feeling that Sadie’s explanation that Dave wanted to talk to us had really been all Sadie. As my attention settled on Emma, I felt my mirth drain away. I’d refrained from ditching my jacket, avoiding pulling a defiant asshole move like at the Silo, but even with the collar unzipped I knew that the back of my neck was out of sight, the marks covered. That didn’t mean that I thought anyone here wasn’t aware of them. We stared at each other uncomfortably long, and I couldn’t help but glance at how tense the guards looked. I finally relented, breaking the silence before the air of awkwardness could get any worse.

“Hi there,” I called across the gate. “Good to see you all. Bert. Emma.”

The guard closest to me made a face, and at me looking his way he cleared his throat. “For you, that’s Governor Hughes.”

I didn’t have to put scorn in my scoff—it leaked in there all on its own. “I spent an entire winter crammed into a hut with her, dreading the next container of apple sauce. I think I’ve earned the right to call her by her given name.” Shifting my attention back to the woman in question, I raised my brows at her. “Or have you already forgotten who made sure that you always had something to eat and didn’t freeze to death over the winter?”

She didn’t deserve that, and from how ramrod straight her spine got I could tell that she knew it. “Of course I haven’t forgotten,” Emma replied. “I also haven’t forgotten that you used to be a lab rat who by mere coincidence managed to get swept up by this lot.”

That sounded ominous enough that it made me cross my arms over my chest, instinctively falling into a defensive stance.

“Guess that’s your convoluted way of saying that you won’t let us in?”

Bert, at least, had the grace to look unhappy, but Emma’s already closed-up face turned into a cold mask. “You I won’t let in. As for your people, I know that I have to extend the courtesy of a five-day stay to them, but I presume they won’t take advantage of it in the light of said exception,” she explained.

“Ah,” I said, surprised that I didn’t even feel disappointed. “And, pray tell, what makes me so special that you need to single me out?”

Emma narrowed her eyes at me, but rather than descend further into hissy-fit territory she pulled herself up into a regal pose. “Whatever the guys at the Silo might write into their database, I know that when you left you only qualified for a single mark. The reason you have three now isn’t because you got inoculated with a vaccine, or whatever other stories you may be telling. I know that you caught it. From him.” Her gaze, needlessly, flitted over to Nate, who stared right back. Sadie, still standing between us, gave us both curious glances, but unlike her mother she seemed unperturbed by the entire affair.

“Caught it?” I echoed, forcing a derisive smile onto my face. “Last time I looked the serum wasn’t mono.” Emma’s mouth shot open, ready to object, but I went right on, not giving her the chance. “Be that as it may, I’m not here to fight. We have some radios the guys from the Silo asked us to leave with you for distribution, and we picked up the two generators you asked for? Of course, if you don’t let us in you’ll have to get out from behind your neat little pole gate there to fetch your equipment, but if you want it, it’s all yours. Unlike some people I don’t make it my business to rain on everyone’s parade. We are out here to help.”