Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 4 | Books 10-12 Page 9

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. So many things that I didn’t know anything about were waiting for me. So many things that could go wrong… but unless I wanted to hoof it north to Dispatch or traverse the hottest states in the country all by my lonesome self—which would take me months at this rate—I was out of options.

  Fuck this shit.

  And fuck those fucking idiots with their fucking camp and—

  This was getting me nowhere, but the settlement was something, somewhere. At the very least I could ask them to get someone on the radio for me—or if worse came to worst, I could always try to track down that caravan. At this point, stealing a car in the middle of the night wasn’t beyond me. I considered that option for a moment but since the dust was already settling, I figured I’d have a hard time catching up to them.

  Settlement first. If that failed, I’d look for a different solution.

  It took me the remainder of the afternoon to get to the first sign proclaiming “10 miles to Sweet Water, Alabama”—my ultimate destination. On the maps I’d picked up, it didn’t look like much more than two roads crossing in the middle of nowhere, but that was the same for most modern settlements. They had roads, access to water, and woods around aplenty to build fortifications and new buildings, if needed. They were also far enough away from larger towns that people could have survived there, although I wasn’t sure when this settlement had been established as such. I hadn’t paid much attention to that besides the few places we’d decided to visit—which had been farther north and west of here. For all I knew, it could have sprung up the summer after we’d dropped off the side of the earth; the intel we had about it was from the year after that—last year—and nothing more than a name and vague location.

  I figured it was a good sign that, as I drew closer, I reached the end of the forest to where trees had been felled only days ago, the scent of freshly cut wood still heavy in the air, and nature hadn’t had time to grow over the drag marks of where the logs had been pulled closer to the road to be transported off. I didn’t see any guards out on patrol but with the sun about to set in an hour or so, they’d probably returned to the town already—or were stealthy enough not to let themselves be seen. I couldn’t help but feel watched as I continued to pedal down the road to where, ever so slowly, the settlement came into view.

  They hadn’t bothered digging ditches or erecting flimsy metal fences like some communities but relied on a double wall of heavy log palisades, easily spanning several miles in circumference from what I could tell. Directly around the palisades and close to the road, the ground was barren, even the grass whacked to below the height where anything larger than a cat or rabbit could have been hiding. Beyond that, I saw the setup for fields large enough to support a community several hundreds strong but nowhere near what I’d seen at the camp. Along the road, I could still see what remained of the old village; the new settlement lay to the north and west of where my road met a similar one coming down from the north. Remained, because they’d done a good job deconstructing everything that could be carried off, further adding to the large, open space that kept hiding spots to a minimum. People had known what they were doing as they established this settlement; good for them, but it made me a little wary. I hadn’t forgotten who had been all too ready to volunteer their help, expertise, and manpower for guards to all those who had survived the first winter. Hell, this far south, it probably didn’t even snow during the colder months; they might very well be one of the earliest established settlements as far as I knew.

  The lack of guards was easily explained once I got a better look at the palisade as I drew closer. It was manned with several people walking the perimeter between three established guard houses that I could see, and several more that I could guess at, plus two right and left of the—right now securely barred—gate. A few continued their circuit but several stopped to keep track of my progress. I could only guess at how bemused they must have been to see anyone come down that road on a bicycle.

  None of them shot at me, so that felt like a win.

  I sure as hell was glad to stagger off that damn contraption of a vehicle, trying not to fall flat on my face. My back and legs were aching but none too happy to have to support my weight now that I was back on earth where I belonged. My body was in dire need of sustenance, and still way too hot. All that mixed with more than just a hint of trepidation—not the most ideal circumstances. I still did my humanly best to appear confident yet calm as I looked up at the guards and waved. Nobody guns down whimsically funny girls, right?

  “Hey there!”

  “Hey there, yourself,” one of the men called down, a bemused look on his face. He seemed friendly enough. “It’s been a while since anyone chose to show up on a bike.”

  “But that did happen before?” I would have been lying if I’d said I wasn’t surprised.

  “Now that you mention it, no,” the guard confessed, chuckling softly to himself. “Looks like you got lost out there?”

  Never one to dissuade people from jumping to conclusions that worked in my favor, I shrugged. “You could say that. Would be awfully nice if I could use your radio to call someone to pick me up?” Better to start humble and let them be generous, I figured. Even if they didn’t let me in, that guy sounded like he’d drop me some blankets to get cozy by the palisade overnight.

  “I can do you one better,” he suggested. “How about you come in before some enterprising undead bites you in the ass? We sure have enough food to feed one more mouth.”

  I waited for further instructions, but the gate was already opening, so I took my bewildered self—including the bicycle—through it. They didn’t even activate their kill chute but raised both parts at the same time. Not that I felt much like protesting, but it sure struck me as gullible.

  The twenty armed guards out of sight of the gate that I only saw once I was through, not so much, but that put my mind at ease more than on edge. I stopped, waiting, not surprised when the guy I’d been talking to before came clumping down the stairs on the inside of the inner palisade.

  “Nice to meet ya. I’m Steven, and this is our welcome committee in this fine town of Sweet Water.”

  “Anna,” I said confidently, shaking his offered hand. He must have noticed that something was weird about my grip but didn’t comment on it, instead offering a small nod. He seemed to be waiting for something, so I turned around to let him see the back of my neck, free as my hair was all gathered up under the ball cap I was wearing. “Three, as you can see, but no current affiliation.” Turning back to face him, I offered a wry smile. “Hope that’s not an issue.”

  “Not unless you make it one,” Steven offered, sounding sincere. “Does help explain why you’ve been out there, on your own.”

  “You mean because I’m a woman?”

  He shrugged, chuckling again. “As a living, breathing human being. Lots of things can kill you out there if you’re not careful. Must help to be a tough bitch.”

  I took that compliment for what it was but hoped that he wouldn’t elaborate on it. Since he wasn’t asking, I didn’t go into details, but I had to tell him something; there was a certain edge in the air, and I didn’t want to bring things to a head by appearing too silent or hostile.

  “That’s true. Still, not something I’m overly fond of, that being out there on my own thing. I got separated from my people and figured it would be easiest to call in and have them pick me up either here or further along the road. They’re likely a state or two away by now.” That should take care of any delays in responses—at least for a reasonable time span. I didn’t intend to stick around longer than a week if nothing happened.

  Steven nodded wisely. “Yeah, things used to be so much easier when the cell towers were still working.” He gave me a quick up-and-down before he jerked his head toward the building right next to the gate. “Tell you what? We’ll give them a call and see what comes of it. Might be a while until we get a response. In the meantime, we can get
you cleaned up and fed. How about that?”

  “Sounds great, chief,” I offered as jovially as possible. I didn’t miss the mistrust in most of the guards’ eyes, but there was nothing I could do about that right now. Actually, things were going pretty well as of yet.

  I followed Steven into his radio station, not surprised to see a rather basic—but likely indestructible—setup. It took him a bit to get the right frequency, and he filled the time with idle chatter that was really anything but.

  “So what’s your story, Anna? Where’re you from?”

  I realized just how sketchy my backstory really was when I didn’t immediately think of a good response. I had figured simply going with the same as I’d used before in that blasted town after the incident with Taggard was good enough. I might have been fooling myself with that.

  Steven’s brows rose when I still hadn’t replied ten seconds later, making me shrug and spill more beans than I had intended. “You mean before the shit hit the fan? Medium-sized town on the east coast. But that’s hardly who I am anymore. We’ve spent the last few years touring the south, mostly Arkansas, Kentucky, and Louisiana, my husband and me. Then things got a little too exciting, and, well, here I am.”

  “Your husband, eh?” Steven muttered under his breath, sounding, if not disappointed, a little suspicious. Gee, the one thing I didn’t lie about, and that’s where he smelled a ruse? Yet before he could ask, static squawked and the radio came alive. Steven prattled off a few codes I didn’t get—and really didn’t like how that made me feel—before he raised his brows at me. “Dispatch, I presume?”

  “Would be awesome,” I agreed.

  Somehow, I’d hoped to hear a familiar voice, but whoever was manning the radio wasn’t anyone I knew. Steven came to the point quickly after exchanging minimal niceties. “Listen, we have a girl here who got lost in the woods.” He grinned at his own joke. “Name’s—”

  “Anna Hawthorne,” I dutifully supplied.

  He repeated that without missing a beat. “She’s looking for her group, close family and such. Thinks they’re likely en route to—”

  Again he eyed me askance. “California,” I offered succinctly, letting him jump to conclusions. His answering smile was actually a real one, alleviating some of my concerns. “The Coast.” He said it with implied capital C. “Got anyone on the move, or someone who could give her a ride? And send them the updated travel schedules as well.”

  The guy on the other end of the line grumbled about knowing how to do his job and promised to report back as soon as he knew more—tomorrow. Steven looked quite chipper at the chance of having annoyed him. Somehow, that endeared him a little more to me.

  Once he’d turned off the radio, he leaned back in his chair and studied me a little more shrewdly. “You got friends in the big city in the west?”

  I shook my head—and it wasn’t even a lie. “Friends of a friend of a friend whose brother met someone once,” I explained. “No deep, profound connections.” I’d never consider Gabriel Greene a friend, and after losing Tanner, I wasn’t sure if Gita would ever forgive me—if she was still alive. If any of them were still alive, the nasty voice at the back of my mind supplied. That wasn’t anything I would concern myself with right now, either.

  “Uh-uh,” came his response, which could have meant anything.

  More to distract him than because I was actually curious, I looked around, noting a few yellowed papers that looked like those damn bounty posters that had once existed of Nate and me when Bucky and his people had—passingly—tried to accost us before we could become more than a nuisance—which had proven to be all lies, anyway. They looked more like trophies, or what you’d see in a teenager’s bedroom. “What’s up with that? Sorry if I sound clueless, but it’s really been a while since I was in a larger settlement.”

  “Still holding a grudge?” he mused. When I didn’t react—also because I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about—he explained. “I know that, for a while, things were pretty much us against them against everyone, but as you likely know yourself, politics in reality are never what they are over the propaganda radio waves. Hell, half of our guards are former scavengers, and we’re damn happy to have them.” He actually looked taken aback for a second. “Pardon my French—”

  My laughter cut him off. “It’s okay. I’ve been running with some rough types for a while. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

  “Just don’t tell my wife,” he said, actually winking at me. “Anyways. As I said—if you don’t stir up any shit, no shit will be flung your way. Like most settlements, we do our thing, and that includes being on talking terms with all kinds of folks. Besides, you can’t trust half the sh… stuff some people tell you. Everything gets exaggerated times two when it gets retold. Easily takes twenty people from where it happened until it arrives here—it’s anyone’s guess if there’s any truth to the tale at all anymore. Besides, we’ve all made mistakes. What counts is that we’re still living and breathing, right?”

  “Right.” It wasn’t hard to agree with that. I idly wondered if he’d been waiting for a different reply but Steven nodded and got up before I could think of one.

  “Anyway, some things don’t change. Marks or no marks, you understand that we’ll have to check you out before we let you into the settlement proper?”

  “I was wondering when you’d ask for the customary striptease.”

  He actually looked uncomfortable at my worst impression of innuendo but didn’t let himself get deterred. “My wife and two armed guards will check you in private. Female guards. And my wife’s our resident doctor. Also, if you need anything checked, just tell her. She’s used to it. We’ll go through your pack with you now so we can make sure you’re not carrying any contraband, and we’d be much obliged if you kept your assault rifle or larger weapons than those handguns with us here at the armory. You’ll get them back when you leave.”

  That was too tantalizing to pass up. “Contraband?”

  “Bombs,” he said with suddenly icy calm. When he caught my frown, he backed up a little. “As I said, it’s been a tumultuous time for a bit. If you have no clue what I’m talking about, be happy you spent those months lazing around in, where was it you said you were?”

  “Arkansas, for the most part,” I repeated.

  “Right. Follow me, please.”

  My things were exactly where I’d left them, untouched as far as I could tell. I’d expected they’d ask for my rifle and was surprised when they didn’t take the magazines as well. My few belongings raised a few questioning looks, particularly as it was obvious that I was running very low on everything, and what few things I’d gathered were recent acquisitions—except for the weapons and survival gear. No one asked, so I didn’t volunteer information that might get me in trouble. While they were busy checking my things, I snuck a few peeks myself, and, true enough, several of the guards had marks across their necks, but only two had all three. I watched them a little more closely but, if anything, they seemed to ignore me more than the others—either pretending to be ignorant, or really not wanting to know about my background. Considering what I knew about pretty much every one of the former soldiers who had gotten all three marks, I couldn’t hold that against them. Or it was a trap, but nothing I could do about that now.

  Satisfied that I wasn’t about to suicide-bomb their settlement, Steven shooed me off to one of the adjacent buildings where large kettles sat over fire pits, one of them ablaze at the moment. Three women were waiting for me there, the two guards and the doctor. She seemed less than pleased to be here and told me with a clipped tone to get naked and state my business quickly should I have any. I didn’t, and was more than happy to peel myself out of my sweaty, grimy clothes, even though I dreaded the usual reactions ahead.

  And, oh boy, they didn’t disappoint.

  The first of the guards turned away after I peeled off the second glove; the other managed until I shook my boots off. Even the doctor herself stopped acting lik
e a royal bitch and continued to watch me undress with a stony expression only. I did my best to ignore them until I was as naked as a babe, and did the obligatory whirl as quickly as possible without looking like I was trying to hide something. They still all caught the tat on my lower back, and their reactions were comically identical: pity quickly turning to derision. I wondered if someone would finally explain to me now what that was all about.

  “See something you like?” I quipped, not really trying to be nice. I’d never liked this being-stared-at-while-naked business, and that had only gotten worse since Canada.

  Before either of them could answer, the doctor signaled the guards to leave, and they beat a hasty retreat. She remained but rather than reply, she handed me a bucket full of steaming water, some washcloths, and soap. I didn’t hesitate, telling myself that if she wanted to talk, she would.

  Turned out, she did. “Most of those scars look like the work of a professional,” she pointed out.

  “Guess so,” was all I was willing to volunteer, trying to both shield as much of my body from her imploring gaze and not let her see my back at the same time.

  “Some are real hack jobs.”

  That assessment made me laugh. “Also true.” When she kept staring at me, I shrugged. “Sometimes when you’re out there, all you have is someone with a steady hand. Sometimes they don’t really have a clue what they’re doing, except keeping you alive.”