Green Fields (Book 4): Extinction (32 page)

“Well. Intact would have been preferable—“

“Completely impossible,” Nate interjected. “We have to at least cut off the head. And like she said, I’d rather drop it off in pieces in several containers. Trust me, you don’t want that thing bouncing right back from looking dead for good.”

“They do that?” The alarm in Dom’s voice was impossible to ignore, but he tried to cover it up by clearing his throat. “And you know that how?”

Rather than reply, Nate turned around enough that the camera caught the back of his neck. He looked a little annoyed when he turned back, but also satisfied. “We took the time to find out exactly what it takes to keep them dead,” he explained. “If you want the specifics, ask her.” He nodded at me. “She went about it in a very detached, very scientific manner.”

They might have missed the emphasis but I didn’t, making me sigh.

Several sets of eyes panned to me. “You dissected a zombie?” Stu asked, sounding admiring rather than skeptical like before.

“Why do I need to keep telling people that I’m awesome?” I harked before getting serious. “Yes. We did. We also did some field testing to see how bright and quick they are.” That might not have been our intention when we’d lured that soon-to-be-dissectee from that one college campus to the other, but it was a valid observation. “That’s why we can say that those we killed around Harristown went down a lot slower than we were used to.”

Dom seemed to overthink his shopping list for us again. “Not sure what kind of samples my guys can use, but pretty much anything you bring us is more than we have to work on right now,” he confessed. “But if you so happen to find a less resilient one, too, you can drop ‘em both off. In as many parts as you deem safe. Not saying Bart won’t bitch, but then you could keep to his exact specifications and he would still complain.” I had a feeling that we would get to meet this Bart if we ever made it over to them. “Anyway. What do you want in return? It’s not like anyone expects you to do this shit for free.”

I was surprised at that remark, but not at the scorn it was delivered with. It certainly put new steel in my spine, and I was more than happy to let Nate deal with that, too, although it might have been my deal to broker.

“What do you have to offer us?” Nate asked, his tone that carefully neutral that set my teeth on edge.

“What can you use?” Dom wanted to know in return. “We’ve been working on some pretty sweet weapon mods, but the last group we offered them to refused on the grounds of not wanting to become our beta testers. We could probably tune your cars, too. If all else fails, I think we still have some pretty decent stocks of ammo, but I’ll have to ask my guys about that.”

“I’m sure we will work something out,” Nate said. “Provided you let us into your hideout, even though we’re blacklisted.”

Dom seemed a lot less fazed about that than the settlers, similar to everyone here in Dispatch. “Couldn’t give less of a shit about that. Of course we’ll let you in. Most settlements still will, if you have something they really want. It’s those who already got everything they need who are picky.”

Wasn’t that the truth. I had to admit, Harristown had left a stale taste on my tongue, even though the people here in Dispatch seemed to value our efforts a lot more than the townspeople likely ever would. Well, except for them owing us their lives, but who was keeping score?

“We’ll probably need a few days to fulfill your order,” Nate said, not trying to hide the sarcasm dripping from his words.

Dom nodded, completely serious. “Understandably. Whenever you get here is fine.” Glancing back to me, he asked, “Anything else? You’re of course invited to look over our collective data if you want to, but I doubt it’s anything beyond what you already saw in Kansas. Progress is slow, if even existent.” Ethan looked ready to protest that, but Dom went right on. “Anyway. Unless you need anything else, we should probably start our meeting now. Was nice talking to you, Bree. Nate.”

And, like that, we were dismissed. I thought about inserting myself into whatever they were about to discuss, but I didn’t miss the pointed look Nate gave me.

“Was entirely my pleasure,” I said, of course including the still sulking Sanders in that.

We took our leave, but I only waited until we were out of earshot before I rounded on Nate. “What was that all about? You weren’t seriously trying to rescue me, right?”

“The thought never crossed my mind,” he replied, but got serious a moment later. “Jason wants to talk to us. Come on.”

We found Jason near his camp where the tarmac gave way to grass. He wasn’t alone. There were at least fifteen people gathered around, and I only knew one of them—Rita. I would have preferred to meet anywhere else—in the shade preferably—but did my best to ignore my still-present, pounding headache. Food still wasn’t anything I wanted to subscribe to, and the least I could do for my dignity was not to continue puking with Rita jeering at me. A small mercy, true, but still valid.

We were the last to join this gathering as Jason launched into introductions as soon as we’d come to a halt next to him. Even without the sun beating down on my head I would likely have forgotten the better part of their names immediately. They all had one thing in common—they were either traders or scavengers, but leaders or representatives of their groups. Nate and I were by far in the average age span, a lot of them years younger than either of us. I didn’t know if that boded well for the future, or just meant that in a couple of years the “human” problem would be a thing of the past because we collectively bit it out of stupidity.

What they had to say, though, was a long shot from stupid.

“I’ve been asking around,” Jason explained. “We’re not the only ones who got treated less than welcome by the settlements. We’re also not the only ones who got blacklisted. Not sure how much of a problem this is going to become, but if you ask me, I’m not going to just let that slide.”

A woman a few years older than me nodded emphatically to that. “They kicked us out because they claimed we were stealing from them. All we did was not give them all of the wares they had requested because they didn’t even offer us something to eat that wasn’t borderline rancid. And unlike you folks we rely on the safe harbor of the settlements. Without that we cannot stay on the road.”

Her sentiment was echoed by several others.

Jason nodded. “I’ve heard stories that many of the traders camp just out of sight of the gates here for a few days where it’s mostly safe before they return for their five days in Dispatch. If they are going to make a run, it needs to be worth the risk.” More agreement rose.

I didn’t know what to make of this. “So what you essentially say is that to do their job, they need to be sure that their journeys are short.”

The woman from before inclined her head. “Yes. We can camp out in the wild, but we’d rather not. We lack the manpower and knowledge to secure a campsite and fight our way out of a tight spot if we can’t run. Most settlements are close enough together that they can be reached on the same day if we catch an early start. But if they won’t let us in, or won’t let us stay at least one night so we can prepare for the next leg of the journey, the risk is getting too great.”

“We lost three entire trains just this month,” another guy spoke up. “All of them experienced folks who shouldn’t have gotten caught out there but still did. Made us think, maybe we should band together and form larger trains, but one of those that went missing were over thirty people strong, and that didn’t help them one bit.”

I glanced at Nate, trying to glean something from his reaction. He was nodding to everything that was brought up, but I didn’t miss the way his jaw was set. Sympathy he might have with all of them because we were practically in the same boat, but that was as far as his understanding went.

“Have you thought of a different solution yet?” I asked. “You could get trained guards to help you. Or only go out when the roads are reported clear.”

Rita scoffed, but it seemed less at me and more at the situation in general. “We’ve needed over eight months to establish the outer perimeter around Dispatch, and that took over four hundred people working together. We try to monitor the streaks and people report in whenever they traverse a safe stretch of road, but that still makes for one hell of a patchy roadmap where the situation could change in a heartbeat. We’d need at least twice as many of the heavy hitters out there on constant patrol to get better reports and do some minor cleanup. That’s not going to happen any time soon, even if we start a training program right now. Besides, would you want to spend weeks on the road just guarding someone else’s ass?”

I wondered if that was a jab at me—and what she might perceive the guys were doing for me—but the usual challenge was missing from her tone.

“Honestly? I’d rather hit a mall and get new gear for others to distribute,” I said.

Jason seemed to agree with me. “That’s what Rita proposed earlier.”

“Come again?” I didn’t have to feign my surprise.

He explained, “Between us, we already know that there’s a divide between scavengers and traders. Why not make it official? We get the goods. They get it to the people who need them. No more mail runs for us, no more heckling because someone broke a leg and now they’re all afraid we might collectively turn into zombies any moment now. The settlements still have to let us in if we need to get off the road, but with others doing the easy runs, they’ll probably let their guard down sooner if they are used to your friendly neighborhood trader dropping in once a week or so.”

A somewhat grizzled looking guy in a leather jacket—impervious to the heat, it seemed—laughed at that. “Or they’ll never open their gates to any of us ever again.”

“It is the best solution,” Rita insisted. “You’re still welcome in Dispatch. I haven’t heard the guys over at the Silo sneer at us, either. And we know from a few settlements who’ve even gone as far as to actively invite scavengers so we get some R & R on the road. We can hunt, or easily clear up the odd resident zombie population if need be. If we enforce the divide, towns have to declare their allegiance. If they only want traders, fine, so be it. But that means if they change their minds, they’ll have to offer bigger compensation. If they are welcoming, we’ll make sure they get the better goods, faster. And just as they can blacklist us, we will blacklist them.”

I didn’t miss that she saw her own allegiance with us, but then she would be treated like that outside of the secured walls of her fortress. What she said made sense, but it also struck me as damn idealistic.

“And how do you want to enforce that?” I wanted to know. “Sure, we can all throw a hissy fit, but that won’t help us if we get eaten by the undead.”

“There’s also another issue,” the woman from before interjected. “Most of the larger settlements don’t depend on us. They still have the government. Just as they brought the materials and manpower to build up their fancy palisades and trenches, they could overrule anything that comes from us. You know that they’re all just lapdogs. So far not a single settlement has ruled against joining their union or resisted exiling us to a life on the road.”

“There’s New Angeles,” Grizzled Guy stated.

“New what?” I just had to ask.

“New Angeles. Like L.A., just with the ‘new’ label in front of it. You know how the townies get with naming their settlements.”

The woman scoffed at him. “Have you been there? I say it’s nothing but a myth.”

I looked at Nate, but he gave me the same blank stare back. He hadn’t heard of that, either.

Jason chuckled. “I know how this sounds, but I know a guy who knows a guy who’s been there. It does exist. Likely not the great oasis some make it out to be, but there is a settlement in northern California, and they’re not playing ball with the powers that be. But unless you want to move there, it’s not going to change anything. They are one town only. There are more than a hundred established settlements and strongholds that are our real concern, and likely twice as much by the end of the summer if they keep building them up as they do.”

After seeing the numbers on the Wall, that eased some of my residual fear that we would all go extinct, but it certainly didn’t help with the problem at hand.
 

Rita’s shrug was as ambivalent as they got. “Doesn’t matter whether it’s a myth or not. It’s easily three days driving from the closest settlement, and that’s in the middle of Nevada. Until fall, no one’s going to make that route unless they can take care of themselves. And it stands to reason that the streaks will migrate south again once temperatures drop. That still leaves us with half a year that we have to get through first. Come winter, we need to have this all worked out. We can’t just all hunker down here or with Jason’s guys in Utah.”

“Why not?” Everyone was looking at me weirdly for asking that. “Seriously, why not build some kind of extended shelter for everyone that needs it for the coming winter? You certainly have the space here. I’m sure that a lot of us would be happy to help with guard duty in exchange for a place to sleep and some warm chow. We’ve pretty much done the same on our own, and it worked well enough. We certainly won’t be able to use the cars much once it starts to snow.”

Grizzled Guy agreed with me wholeheartedly, it seemed. “Not the worst I’ve heard. Might even offer the same to the settlers, if they wise up. Trade will go down, but who knows what hits them? They can easily feed a group or three through the winter, but if they have to leave their cozy barricades to scare off some bears, things will get hairy for them.”

I almost laughed at the notion of bears, but quickly shut up when I remembered that wolf pack that we’d had to scare away from our bunker so game would return for us to hunt. Last year, I was sure that most of us had never seen a larger predator outside of a zoo. Now, who knew? They likely were a lot better in avoiding the shamblers than we were, and those that were still around and kicking would soon go into a phase of exponential population growth. Maybe upward of five groups per settlement was the better idea.