Green Fields (Book 3): Escalation (12 page)

If not for the clear tension in the girl’s body language I might have laughed at Nate, but I really didn’t want to trigger her.

“Yeah? And what does that say about you, if you continue to associate with such class acts?”

“That it’s the end of the world and selection is rare,” he griped back before he turned to the girls again. “Hi, I’m Nate, this is Bree. You’re Ahmya, right?” The older girl reluctantly nodded. “Nice to meet you, Ahmya. And that’s your sister?” The girl nodded again, but didn’t speak up. “And your little brother went to fetch the others of your group?” he went on, proving that he’d been there to observe us the entire time. Fucker. At least that explained why he had such an easy time smiling. “Why don’t you take us to them instead? Would be much easier for everyone if they didn’t find us holding you at gunpoint, right?”

So much for my hope that I could maybe badger Nate into not spilling the beans about my mishap. Then again, it felt good to know that likely Burns, Andrej, and Taylor were up around somewhere with their sniper rifles.

Ahmya’s eyes went wide while her sister just blinked, looking around as if she didn’t believe that they had been flanked without them even realizing it.

“Why would we do that?” she asked, squinting at me. “And why would you do that? It would put you at a clear disadvantage. You don’t look that dumb.”

“Because we have nothing to hide and hope that we can maybe help each other out. Trade goods, information, whatnot,” Nate replied. “Please. We’ll even leave all our weapons here.” Which made me uneasy, but it was a way to ensure that we’d get them back in the end.

The older girl deliberated another few seconds, then lowered her shotgun, still tense but pretending to be at ease.

“You can come with us. And you can bring your weapons. I’m not going to defend your ass if you get into trouble.” Her sister snickered, making her roll her eyes, and I was sure that if we hadn’t been there, they’d have started bickering any moment now.

Walking over to where her brother had emptied my shotgun, she hesitated, then picked up the shells, stuffing them into her pants pockets. “You can have those back with your shotgun. Provided you don’t try anything.”

“Keep them,” I replied. “We have plenty to spare.”

She considered but then nodded. “This way. They shouldn’t be far.”

Trading looks with Nate—and just receiving a shrug in turn—I followed the girls as they skipped down the slope—the first lithe as a mountain goat, the other with about as much stumbling and sliding as I did. If Nate kicked off two pebbles the entire way down into the small ravine, it was a lot. Sometimes it was so easy to hate him.

I wasn’t really good at tracking, but even I could see that someone—several someones—had been using the small trail we followed frequently enough to pick it out easily. It sloped further down the hill, then over a few of the smaller, yellowish humps, before it veered up another runnel. At the top of that I could make out movement, and a few seconds later, a group of ten people—led by the boy who was still carrying my shotgun like a prize—made their way to us. They all wore tan or dark outdoor gear, not dissimilar from ours, and were toting a small arsenal. I felt my gut twist as several weapons swung directly at me, but did my best to appear as calm as Nate beside me. I’d expected the group to be made up of younger men—that seemed to be the predominant case—but four of them were women, and they ranged in age from just a little older than Ahmya to well into retirement age.
 

“That’s them,” the boy told a woman who looked roughly my age—but must have been somewhat older if the girls were her daughters, too—her strawberry blonde hair gathered in a high bun at the back of her head. She didn’t look particularly thrilled to see us, but seemed confident that we weren’t about to eat her girls alive. That was something, I figured.

“They asked to come see you,” the younger girl said, sounding a little sheepish.

“And they had backup, who are likely following us,” her elder sister provided, glancing at the surrounding slopes.

“We mean you no harm if you don’t attack us,” Nate offered what had kind of become our introductory phrase. “We’ve been looking for you. Glad you found us, because you likely spared us a week of looking.”

“You wouldn’t have found us if we hadn’t wanted to be found,” the woman replied, still not very ecstatic.

Nate introduced us and told them about the same as I’d divulged to the kids before—that we’d met Bo, Cooper, and their group, and gone looking for them, hoping to establish contact. The woman listened to us, still not betraying anything on her face, but nodded when Nate finally fell silent again.

“I’m Shayla, and you’ve already met Ahmya, Malia, and Adonis.” Judging from how the kids had taken their places around the group, they weren’t the only members of the family. “Can’t really say that I’m pleased to meet you, but it beats getting chewed on by one of those suckers out there.” So much for keeping things PG, but then again, I figured that if they were old enough to know how to use the weapons they carried, they might as well pick up some colorful language along the way. They certainly looked capable enough handling either.

“There’s absolutely no reason for you to be resentful of us. Or afraid,” I offered. Maybe the wrong course, but I felt obliged to try to defuse the situation.

“You’re here, in our territory, and you are making a nuisance of yourself. I’d say those are reasons aplenty,” Shayla replied.

“You had bad experience with trespassers?” Nate ventured a guess.

She shrugged. “Not directly, but yeah.”

“We’d be happy to trade,” Nate offered. “Or just bring you provisions if you need them. We’ve started doing the same back home. Might as well extend the range of our operations.”

“And where would that be, ‘home’?” she asked.

“West Wyoming, south of Cody,” Nate replied, surprising me a little. “Do you have a radio in your base? We’re neighbors with Kevin and Dave.”

It was comical to see her relax instantly at the mention of the names, but then a suspicious look returned to her face. “And how do I know that you’re not lying?”

My turn to shrug. “You could ask them to verify our identity. But why should we lie? We don’t want anything from you, and we’re not posing a threat to you. And if you tell us to beat it, we’ll be gone as soon as we’re back at our cars.”

Shayla considered that for a moment, briefly looking at the other members of her group—not exactly for guidance, but she seemed reluctant to make decisions for everyone without getting backup first. I wondered how that worked for them. It definitely didn’t work for us. Ever since we were back on the road and everyone was back to deferring to Nate, rather than trying to seek compromise between him, Bert, and Emma in particular, the level of latent aggression had dropped significantly. But that might have been due to the thrill of almost getting eaten by zombies again, too.

“You would just do that? Go out, risk your lives, and bring us whatever we need?” she finally asked, still a little perplexed.

“We’d try. Might have a hard time getting some things, but basic items shouldn’t be an issue,” Nate replied. When she continued to study him, he smiled. “Look, it’s not half as altruistic as it sounds. We get you what you need, and maybe you give us shelter for a night or two. A place to let down our guard, to wash our clothes, maybe trade for a few things that we don’t have access to, like cooked food. Not seeing the same old faces all the time might be nice, too.”

“Word,” I interjected, getting a glare from him, but a surprisingly understanding smile from Shayla. Then again, she likely hadn’t spent an entire hour without all those people around in forever, unless she’d been out in the open where anything could kill her. Yeah, it made a lot of sense that she could relate.

“What do you say?” Nate asked, still a little exasperated at my antics.

She considered for another moment, but then inclined her head. “We don’t really have much to trade, and we’re not running low on anything, but might be nice to have that option. But I hope you understand that we don’t just take your word on face value.”

Nate shrugged. “Wouldn’t have expected that. Why don’t you gather a few volunteers to come see us at our camp? We’ll go back there in the meantime and wait for you. You can check our cargo, and you can take what you need. Ask around what people might want beyond that, and write us a list. You can try to coordinate with the guys over in our base if maybe they have something that we don’t, or if we check in with them later, tell them to forward your message to us. Not sure how feasible this is right now, but if we manage to establish some kind of network between the different communities over the next couple of years, it might make life easier for everyone.”

She gave that some thought before she nodded again. “Okay. I’ll see if I can round up some volunteers. You can go back now, before your snipers get too twitchy.”

Nate’s smile grew at that. “Don’t worry, they’re used to this. Bree’s our only rookie, and seeing as your son already made sure that she can’t accidentally shoot anyone in the foot…”

“How about I shoot you in the back, completely non-accidentally,” I supplied, smiling sweetly.

Shayla grinned, then signaled her people to beat it. I hesitated, but spoke up when I saw the boy glance at me with uncertainty.

“Can I have my shotgun back? Or do you want to keep it?” His sister was already digging the ammo out, but kept her fist closed over the shells.

“Mom? May I?” The hopefulness in his voice made me wonder what the world was coming to, and that his mother only hesitated for a moment cemented that we were no longer in the position to coddle the younger generation.

“You’re too young, still. But if they don’t need it…” She trailed off there, eyeing me askance.

“Keep it,” I replied. “I’m sure your sister will teach you when you’re old enough. That thing kicks like a donkey.”

His eyes sparkled as his hands tightened on the weapon, but his sister was quick to make the rounds disappear again. With a last nod in their direction, I turned, following Nate back the way we had come.

Chapter 8

Shayla’s people were hesitant to come over to our camp, but when it became apparent that we’d been speaking the truth, they flocked to us one group at a time, still wary but not outright afraid. Shayla herself dropped by shortly before noon, trailed by the guy who I’d noticed standing by her shoulder before, and her son. She handed us a list of items that several people seemed to have compiled while idly looking over the things that we’d dragged out of the cars and piled up between them.

“I spoke to Dave earlier,” she told me. “And Emma, too. Bo and Cooper apparently ran into part of your group yesterday.” I hoped that had gone over better than I feared, but considering that her tone was even, it couldn’t have come to too much of a fracas. “We compared stocks, and she’s sending them back with what she can spare. If you want, you can leave the things that you already gathered for your folks with us, and we’ll see that they get it as soon as our people are back here.”

She could have been lying, of course, but I didn’t see what that would have helped her. It was easy enough to verify later, and it wasn’t like we’d lose much if the goods never arrived with our people. We’d just have to gather more elsewhere.

“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed, then eyed Nate cautiously. He’d been close enough to listen in—and object—but completely ignored me now. Clearly, that decision was mine to make.

We went over the list together while I sifted through the things to store with them until someone would bring them back over to Meeteetse. After checking what remained in the other cargo holds, I dragged a few more palettes of food and boxes of guns and ammo out, too. In the end, it didn’t really matter which of the strongholds kept them, and if they had enough to get by and defend themselves, they might part with their surplus more easily in the future. Shayla looked actually guilty as she sent Adonis back to fetch more people to help store everything away, and while we waited for them to arrive, she finally coughed up why exactly they all were so damn cautious.

“We sent out several parties of people before, you know?” she said. “But almost none of them returned.”

“Zombies got them?” I suggested. It was the most likely option, and considering our recent discoveries in Douglas and the plains, it only made sense that bad luck might have been the end of them.

“That’s what we thought at first, too,” she admitted. “And the fuckers got enough of us as it is, before we learned to be more cautious. But it was only when we got a message over the radio from one of the folks down in Missouri that we found out the truth.” She still hesitated, but finally spilled the beans. “Those weirdos in Illinois? Kevin said you already heard of them. Those cannibals. They got them.”

“Shit.” There really wasn’t anything else to say.
 

“Yeah,” she agreed.

“But isn’t that like, almost a thousand miles east?”

She shrugged. “Some of the guys knew someone in the region. Wanted to check back to see if they’d made it, you know? And when they didn’t return, two more groups left after them. I think they were hoping that the reason they hadn’t returned yet was that they’d found some kind of safe haven. And when they didn’t return, we sent one last group, but then gave up. Turns out, someone from another group that ran into those motherfuckers recognized some of our people. She got away, made it to Missouri, and then told the guys there, who brought the news back to us. Not that we can confirm it, but they’ve been gone all winter. Either way, they’re dead.”