Resurgence: Green Fields book 5 (5 page)

He ended up opening a can of tuna in spicy sauce, but after a bite or two I turned the offered food down. He gave me a weird look and took another few forkfuls before he pushed the can at me once more. I continued to push it back toward him each and every time, until he lost our silent battle of wills, offering a grunted, “You need to eat. So, eat.”

I gave him a flat stare, aware that he likely couldn’t even see it in the perpetual gloom of late dusk that had settled over the room. “I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t give a shit whether you’re hungry or not,” he replied. “Eat.”

“Or what, you’ll make me?” I hazarded a guess.

The gleam in his eye made my spine turn from noodle to iron. “Wanna find out?”

The next time he shoved the can at me, I took it and speared one of the remaining pieces of fish inside, but only ended up swirling it around for good measure. At his harrumph I finally put it in my mouth, but felt no pleasure in consuming it due to its utterly tasteless quality. “Happy now?” I quipped, handing it back.

Nate looked ready to check under my tongue whether I’d actually swallowed, but refrained—for now. “I know that you’re not exactly fond of tuna after last year’s run—“

“It’s not that,” I interrupted him before he could remind me of just how monotonous our diet had been last summer. Not that it was that much more varied now.

“Then what is it?”

I wondered how to explain, except for the obvious. It shouldn’t have been something that needed an explanation. “I’m just not hungry,” I said.

“Bullshit,” he ground out, then got to his feet. “I know that things aren’t exactly rosy for you right now…”

“Understatement of the century,” I murmured, mostly to myself. I got a glare from him that I chose to ignore.

“…But you can’t give up like this.”

“Who says I’m giving up?” I shot back, waiting for heat to creep into my voice, but there was only dull acceptance. “I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to drink. Doesn’t mean that I don’t want to get up and face the world come tomorrow.”

Nate stared down at me from where he had stopped pacing at the end of the bed, then let himself fall onto it right next to me, staring at the ceiling. I doubted that he could make out much more of me than my outline, while I had no problem seeing the frustration etched into his features.

“Not saying it has to be tomorrow,” he finally replied, his voice soft. “But we can’t be sure what getting infected did to you. If you really have faster healing now, you have to eat more. You won’t get your strength back unless you give your body the sustenance it needs. Trust me, I get it. Eating, or sleeping, or taking care of yourself in any way is the farthest thing from your mind right now. You don’t have to worry about any of it. Let me bear that burden. As it is, I’m already about as useless as a cock on a zombie, so let me at least have this. Please?”

He probably meant his new, more considerate approach sweet or some shit, but what it actually did was annoy me. My grunted answer made him crack a smile, if only for a second, but he seemed to take that as affirmation.

“So we’re married now, huh?” I asked. “Or engaged. Or whatnot. How does this even work? Do we hunt down someone to officiate that? Does consummating our marriage do the trick?” The entire idea sounded so ludicrous now that I thought about it, I didn’t know whether to object or just laugh it off.

Nate blindly groped in my direction until he caught my hand, his fingers warm and rough against my skin. “I’m not that stupid. I know that you still need to heal—“

“Gee, thanks,” I interrupted, more to add some levity to the conversation than anything else.

“Because you only just got off your death bed I’ll make an exception,” he joked, squeezing my fingers. “As for the rest… no idea? I frankly don’t care. I just want you to know that I intend to spend the rest of my life with you. That’s it.”

“So no getting my name tattooed on your ass?” I ventured a guess. Sadly, the light was a little too low to really see the look on his face clearly, but his soft laugh told me what I needed to know.

“Not the worst idea you’ve ever had,” he remarked. “Even if I lose every single thing I own, that’ll stay with me.”

“Oh you shut up,” I advised. When he held out what remained of the tuna to me, I hesitated, but then took it and forced myself to finish it. The hand he’d been holding mine with dropped onto my knee, but I shook it off after a few moments. When finally the abysmal tuna was gone, I dropped the can and fork on the nightstand before I stretched out next to him, studying his features in the darkness. He really needed to shave soon if he didn’t want that beard of his to start getting longer than his hair.
 

“How long are we going to stay here?” I asked, not sure why I felt the need to disrupt the silence stretching between us.

Nate shrugged. “At least as long as it takes you to get better again. As harsh as it sounds, you’re of no use to me out there if my entire attention is taken up by keeping you alive.”

“You say the sweetest things,” I muttered, but of course he was right. I couldn’t even comfortably walk down stairs, let alone run for my life. Not the best prerequisites for surviving out there.

The corner of Nate’s mouth quirked up into a teasing smile. “I thought you didn’t like it when I lie to you.”

“And I don’t. The truth just sucks sometimes.”

He snorted. “Well, ain’t that the truth.”

Silence fell, and this time it was that comfortable, familiar kind. Nate remained lying on his back, but all too soon his breathing became heavy before it turned into light snoring. I wished I could have fallen asleep just like that, but as exhausted as I was, rest was a long way from coming. And it wasn’t just the static noise buzzing inside my head. Even shifting slightly still hurt enough to tear me right out of the light slumber I eventually managed. At least the splitting headache the sunlight had given me slowly receded, but that was about it.

It must have been hours later—it certainly felt like weeks—when something jerked me fully awake again. A glance at Nate revealed that he was still sleeping soundly, if somewhat more soundlessly now, curled up on his side. I held my breath as I listened into the night—nothing. Probably just my imagination. Who could have faulted me that?

I was just about to drift off again when my mind startled awake once more. Something was wrong, I just knew it. Or not wrong, but going on. A diffuse feeling of agitation took hold of me, as if something was calling to me, drawing me closer. It took a few minutes until I could pinpoint it, and I felt myself deflate when I realized that it was coming from the direction of the oak tree. Of course. It had probably been stupid to expect that I would be able to sleep at all tonight, and likely a testament to just how tired I was that I’d managed, if barely. Staring up at the ceiling, I laced my fingers over my chest, counting my breaths. Maybe going out there had been a mistake. Maybe not knowing, not seeing would have been better. I would never know.

My thoughts turned sluggish, making thinking hard, so I just let my pain and grief wash over me. One more life lost, like so many others. And just like with all the others I would learn to cope. Learn to move on. Learn…

There it was again, that latent buzzing just outside of what I could actually make out with my senses. Calling to me. Drawing me closer. Making my skin itch, the hairs on my arms stand on end. Frowning, I sat up, grimacing at the residual discomfort the motion caused. This was starting to freak me out. I knew all too well just how miserable my guilty conscience could make me feel, but this? This was a little too visceral to simply be a figment of my imagination.

I considered shaking Nate awake, but he looked so peaceful asleep that I couldn’t quite make myself. He’d gotten even less sleep than me, and probably needed every minute of it. Sagging back into the pillow that had long ago stopped being a creature comfort and had since turned into a torture instrument, I resumed my quiet introspective.

Then a second something out there joined the first, if coming from a different direction, seemingly further down the road that led by the motel. It was weaker than the other, but gained strength over the next minutes. Like the first, it came and went, not a constant buzzing, but unnerving me every time it reappeared. I checked my forehead, but while there was residual clamminess from the less than cool night air making me sweat all over, my temperature had dropped to its usual point. Of course this could all be in my imagination… only that I didn’t buy it.

A whiff of something tickled my nose, making my sluggish thoughts grind to a sudden halt. I was wide awake within moments—not just awake, but my pulse was racing, adrenaline leaking into my blood. Inhaling deeply, I tried to discern what had caused my heart to trip into overdrive, but deep down I already knew what it had to be. Nowadays there were few things out there that my instincts responded to quite like that. True enough, on the third inhale I could pinpoint it: the lingering scent of decay, like an animal rotting away underneath the floorboards of an old house.

Leaning over, I clamped one hand over Nate’s mouth, the contact enough to immediately startle him awake. He didn’t make a sound, and after a moment of staring at me with wide eyes he reached up to lightly tap my arm, the sure signal that he knew to stay quiet.
 

“They’re out there,” I said, my voice as low a whisper as I could pitch it.

In the dim light I saw him frown, but not with disbelief.

“You sure?”

“I can smell them,” I replied. Not just that, but now was not the time to share that new tidbit.

Nate gave a curt nod as he rolled out of the bed and onto silent feet. The carpet muffled any sound he might have made as he snuck over to the window to glance out beside the boards covering the others. I followed him, compressing my lips as I bit back a groan. Yeah, a few more days to heal would have been great.

From the way he tensed I could tell that he’d seen something out there. Pushing myself against him so I could glance outside, I quickly cast around. It only took me a couple of seconds to pinpoint the exact location that buzzing feeling was coming from—from across the road, maybe half a mile out. The zombie was too far away to really see it, but I could tell that it was moving at the center of a small crowd of them that was, slowly but surely, coming our way. And they weren’t alone. Craning my neck, I tried to get a better look all around, but there was simply not enough room. Even so I counted easily fifty of the undead shamblers, trudging all over the road and surrounding fields. A few had made it into the parking lot, but only one seemed interested in the car parked by the stairs, if only cursorily so.
 

“Shit,” Nate muttered, low enough that I barely caught it.

“You think?” I replied, unable not to share his sentiment. He glanced my way, then stepped back into the room to get his night vision scope. I didn’t really feel like laughing at the grim look that took over his face as he scanned the lot once more.

“Guess that answers your question from earlier,” he whispered.

It was definitely time to go.

Theoretically, we could have chanced staying, but neither of us brought up that possibility. With maybe ten or twenty zombies, it would have been a gamble. With more than three times that—and who knew how many more following—it wasn’t an option. Sooner or later they would start tearing apart the car, and if I could smell what we’d left behind in the other rooms, so could they. From what we’d seen in the past, they could be investigative little fuckers, and tonight was not the time to test if they’d stop two doors down from finding something that might have been interesting to them.

That, of course, left only one option: flight. After my glorious descent of the stairs earlier, I really wasn’t looking forward to this.

Packing our things was the easy part. There was nothing in the room that couldn’t be left behind, and Nate had never bothered unpacking what little provisions we still had. Two bottles of water and a handful of cans didn’t even weigh down his pack. It only took him about a minute to get into his gear and strap on his weapons. My gear? What was left of it was in the car, but I had a certain feeling that if I’d been forced to wear the heavy, reinforced clothing rather than the shorts and tank top I was in now, I would have keeled over on the spot. I wasn’t quite as defenseless as a newborn, but not a long shot from it. Speed was still my best chance.

And, who knew? Maybe I didn’t even smell like food to them anymore.

That thought was one I kept to myself. What I didn’t was my assessment of what would happen once we’d managed to—somehow—make it to the car. “I’m driving.”

Nate gave me a look that was a breath away from incredulous. “You can hardly stand up straight—“

“Then be glad the car still has seats,” I whispered right over his protest. “I didn’t say I want to drive. But can you? Out there, tonight, with the clouds obscuring what little moonlight there is? The scope may be good enough for spotting any moving targets, but you won’t see a single bump in the road or pothole. You need me to drive.” I didn’t point out that in the event that we had to shoot, he was the only one of us who’d hit anything. If it came to that, we were likely toast. Just starting the car and letting it rumble down the road would already send the zombies into overdrive. Suddenly, that idea the guys at the Silo had with their electric engine wasn’t half as harebrained as it had seemed at first glance.

Nate’s jaw stood out hard as he gnashed his teeth, but after a few seconds of deliberation he gave a curt, reluctant nod. “Do you think you can make it down the stairs on your own? I’m afraid that if I have to carry you, the friction of fabric against fabric will be enough to make some of them at least curious.”

I nodded, although I didn’t like the idea one bit. Then again, it was the same if it took me one minute or five to get down those stairs, as long as I managed not to make a sound.

Nate hesitated for another moment, but there was no sense to it. Reaching for the door, I turned the knob and eased it open, momentarily shivering as the cool night air rushed in. I winced as the hinges creaked, but from what I could tell none of the shamblers down in the lot noticed. Looking left and right to make sure that the way was clear, I stepped outside, gingerly putting my foot down on the concrete. The stairs were only four doors down, but rather than head there directly, I stepped toward the bannister to look into the lot. Just as I’d feared, there were more shamblers lurking down below already, several of them congregating at the bottom of the steps. Nate followed me, and at a glance down he pulled me back, signaling toward the other stairs. Taking those forced us to do a good five-minute detour of slowly sneaking along the entire length of the building, but at least the way was clear. By now it was impossible not to smell them, and as silent as they were for a horde of undead, they still made enough sound as they moved to pinpoint their locations easily.