Desolation, p.21
Desolation, page 21
It wasn’t lost on me that Osprey’s expression was closer to theirs than the curiosity on Kas and Dharma’s faces.
My mind wanted to dwell on that for a second—and dissect it for days and days on end—but I shoved that right where it belonged and did my best to pretend I hadn’t noticed. It did make me wonder, though, how he expected me to act. Him rejecting me was one thing—and a fact I was very happy to accept, seeing as that wasn’t something I had a right to complain about. But did he expect me to stay clear of any and all other men around here—particularly when his veto might potentially have kept me safe and sound in the Enclave? I couldn’t be sure about that, but as far as I had understood, Osprey had been charged with making sure that I didn’t get up to no good. It struck me as strange that the Colonel wouldn’t confer with him about how to handle me if other opportunities came up.
Then again, agreeing to send me with Jared—who I knew could be damn persuasive if he wanted to—likely hit two birds with one stone. He was giving Jared what he was asking for, and there was a very high chance I’d die and no longer be anyone’s problem.
Gee, but it was so amazing to feel so appreciated.
Problem was, Jared had just spelled out his appreciation for me—or at least my skills, and let’s be honest, that was the only part I was comfortable with.
Fuck.
I needed more coffee to work this out, and a hell of a lot more booze to stop caring about all the implications.
Since it didn’t look like I’d get either, I would have to make do with the cards I had been dealt.
What else was new?
11
The big rally the Colonel had talked about turned out to be exactly that—and left me conflicted on levels I hadn’t anticipated when I’d followed him down inside, silently grumbling to myself about the general unfairness of life and why everyone was happy to risk mine.
I hadn’t been anywhere near the central areas that made up the Enclave before, and after this experience, I felt I hadn’t missed anything. Sure, the cavernous hall he led us to was breathtaking—utterly dwarfing the room where the guard trials had been held. But when we arrived, it was already packed with people.
So many fucking people.
All breathing and talking and coughing all over each other.
Not that I was turning into an agoraphobic, misanthropic germaphobe any time soon, but that was so beyond my comfort zone that it threatened to send my body into flight mode.
Thankfully, I had Dharma and Kas to distract myself with, and Corey and Liam to add the odd remark in between. Only Osprey seemed intent on following the proceedings as they unfolded—which for now meant for all of us to wait, clustered in the corner, as more and more people kept streaming into the hall.
“I see you found the clothes I set aside for you?”
It took me a second to get what Dharma meant with that. Then another to try to decide how to respond. For once, lying seemed the better part of valor.
“Sure. Thanks. I doubt I’d ever be wearing anything close to my size if I relied on Plato and his guys to stash something up there that fits anyone not built like a linebacker.”
She chuckled.
“I was afraid that would happen. Typical that none of the women thought to set anything aside for you.”
I almost laughed when my first impulse was to bite her head off. So much for allegiances shifting. But I got it. She hadn’t been around them long enough to realize the Militia people had exactly zero things to spare… except for the food and drink they had been extremely forthcoming to share with me last night and this morning. And it had been Marion who’d handed me a full set of clothes after I’d been released from my cell.
I hated the not-so vague sense of unease creeping up my spine.
“They probably figured that since I’m officially part of your team, I get all my stuff where you get yours. Or just go ahead and pick it up next time I’m out there. And they weren’t wrong.”
Dharma still didn’t seem quite convinced.
“They treat you all right? I know you said you had no concerns when we dropped you off there two days ago, but—“
I shook my head, almost laughing at the idea that anyone would try some shit under Marion’s scrutiny.
“I’m sleeping in a bunk bed next to a bunch of tween and teen girls. I think the worst that might happen to me is to wake up with some glitter on my face or my hair braided up. The only one up there who’s a menace is the asshole, and if he’s gunning for me, it won’t be in some sneaky fashion. He’ll do it in front of everyone as a very public display.” I paused, then added, “He got me assigned to this sortie, for what it’s worth. Up front and very public since the Colonel already declared it.”
Dharma looked vaguely uncomfortable.
When she didn’t elaborate, Kas jumped in.
“We already knew. We had a briefing before we all went up to get the Militia people.”
So much for them protesting.
I was tempted to ask if anyone had spoken up on my behalf but then decided not to. It didn’t matter, and the last thing I needed was to be mad at one more person in this world. My ire already had more than enough targets as it was.
“Are you coming along with us?”
I’d figured it was a pro forma question. I realized how wrong I’d been when both Dharma and Kas shook their heads; him looking conflicted, her slightly relieved.
“We’ll be providing backup,” Dharma explained. “By now, I’m sure you’ve heard from various sources about my… issues regarding the Asheville bunch. It’s not just me, but I’m a convenient excuse, so that’s what the Colonel is going with. We’ll stay at a forward base camp with extra vehicles that should you come back with more gear and weapons as expected, we have enough to transport it without overloading the cars. From there, we can also launch a rescue effort, like we did at the Militia HQ. We’ll leave an extra cache this time so that if anyone gets separated again, they can still pick it up and get themselves back to the Enclave without having to walk.” She didn’t look at me like she was talking about me, but I didn’t miss the emphasis on “anyone.”
Kas nodded. “Depending on how much you find, you might be making several trips in and out. We’ll come with you if you need to make a second trip, although word is, they’re not expecting much.”
Now that sounded interesting—and incredibly disheartening.
“So we’re risking our necks for what, exactly?”
Dharma grimaced. “A new, strong alliance, mostly. I wasn’t there when they talked, but Seneca let it slip this morning that it would be a vast improvement to our defensive and offensive strength if we could rely on the Asheville lot to support us if need be. Or at the very least, serve as a secure place to stay if we can’t return here because we get caught out with our pants around our ankles. They’ve been doing pretty much the same as we are—clearing up roads, scavenging and looting what’s humanly possible. Only they haven’t had the issues we had with the Militia pretty much preventing us from clearing a good two-thirds of the reachable territory, so they’re better set up and somewhat ahead of us. I’m sure they’ll help us catch up if we let them have some of the spoils for themselves. In the end, we all stand better chances to survive if we’re all better equipped.”
All so very sensible. I just hated that it was me who had to go into some without a doubt heavily infested territory to secure said potential future help.
Then again, watching the crowds around us still grow with barely any standing room left made me realize how little I wanted to stay in here. Up at the Militia camp was okay, and the guard barracks hadn’t been bad, but in here?
Who the fuck thought this was their new utopia worth holding on to?
Then I recognized two of the young women standing next to the Militia people. It took me a moment to place them. I’d seen them on my very first night here at the Enclave. Not newcomers like me, but some of the volunteers for what we loved to snark about being the sign-up bonus—at least to some of the men.
Women in their early twenties. Just like Chelle, Brandi, and Ash.
My friends. The girls for whom I had accidentally braved the possible first day of the zombie apocalypse to get some coffee and bagels.
I’d have given anything for them to still be alive, and here with me.
For them, I would easily have signed up to go out there and be brave so they didn’t have to.
So really, what was the difference?
Little more than semantics.
I started to ask myself what else Marion had put into my coffee, because it was decidedly unlike me to be mature and nonjudgmental in the span of twenty minutes.
Yet here I was, my resentment about having to go out there waning just as my guilt about moping about it increased.
Well, at least that would stop once I had to go toe to toe with the undead, I figured.
Silver linings, and all that.
Meanwhile, the Colonel launched into a speech that was pretty much the same as he’d already given to the Militia people, only ten times as long and dripping with pathos. Sure, I was biased, but this was bordering on satire. And yet, when he got to the point about calling for a vote, the crowd was cheering, clearly all for it.
Well, not all of them. The Militia people, while still in favor, were showing their support in a more subdued, bordering on grim way.
When the Colonel asked for volunteers, it wasn’t just Jared, Axel, Blake, and me, but ten more men—everyone who wasn’t wounded or absolutely essential to finishing the cabins. Plato and Seneca both sent eight men with us, making it a whopping thirty volunteers. Or twenty-nine plus one unlucky conscript.
“We should be coming with you,” Liam spoke up, scratching his chin. When he caught Dharma’s side-eye, he shrugged defensively. “I know they need backup, particularly after how things went down at the Militia HQ. But this feels…”
“Cowardly?” I succinctly supplied.
Nobody looked happy about my jibe, but this time, I refused to feel bad about it.
It was one thing not to act petty and childish around the Militia people, but quite another with my friends.
Corey narrowed his eyes at me. “You know that you could still get out of this.”
I gave him a long, hard look until he started to fidget.
“No, thanks. I’d rather get eaten and torn apart by the undead, if you don’t mind.”
I had a feeling that I’d missed at least one conversation or briefing. That Dharma was conflicted was one thing. I got that there was a lot of bad blood between her and her ex that was the last thing you wanted going on when your very life might depend on the other party’s compliance. The realization that things between me and Jared weren’t that different, but we somehow still managed to make it work out there was increasingly hilarious to me.
Look at me and the asshole, being the reasonable ones.
Still, I got it. But while Liam had sounded sincere, it also came across as a token protest. Like he was saying it so it was on record, but outside of where anyone could force reality to flip over and for him to suddenly tag along after all.
I didn’t like this one bit.
Suddenly, spending the next days out there, far away from all this, wasn’t so bad.
Except for the overrun city and tens of thousands of zombies waiting for us there.
Fuck my life.
Maybe backing down really wasn’t the worst of options. How bad could it get?
A single look into the excited crowds answered that for me.
Resigning from the guards wouldn’t just sentence me to forever brothel duty. It would throw me in with this lot. And as of very recently, that was the far biggest motivator to keep heading out there and risk my life.
I hated how reasonable I was this morning. I had no business doing that, considering my still-raging hangover.
What exactly had Marion put in my coffee?
“Backup is a good idea,” I offered when their staring contest wouldn’t end. “I hope we won’t need it, but after the fuckup at the Militia HQ, it’s hard to debate not having someone on standby. Particularly if we do happen to find something worth taking with us.”
Corey considered me carefully.
“You are taking this all pretty well for someone who’s been basically conscripted.”
All I had for him was a shrug.
“Already did my moping and crying. Now all that’s left is getting shit done.” I couldn’t help but grimace at the inevitable memory of last night. “And if they weren’t all dicks about it, I’d likely have volunteered, anyway.”
He seemed surprised, but only for a second.
“That’s what Seneca also said this morning. I was surprised when Osprey didn’t protest more, but maybe I shouldn’t have been.”
I raised my brows at that, way too interested for my own good.
“Why?”
He shrugged, vaguely uncomfortable. “They’ve been fighting a lot of late. I think Osprey knows when he’s lost too many quarrels to keep trying when he doesn’t have a chance of winning. Seneca’s been riding him pretty hard about our group’s… lack of performance, if you will.”
Dharma snorted derisively, although she seemed to agree. With whom, I wasn’t quite sure.
“It didn’t help that after the power plant, Jared made it pretty clear that all of us were useless except for you. When he suggested that you come along for this, Seneca immediately supported it. I think they’re pretty much considering you a part of their team now, if only to make us look worse.”
I had to bite the inside of my cheek hard to keep from groaning, asking why every single man in my life was out to get me killed, but it seemed disingenuous to do so when in fact they seemed to base their actions on my competence. Hearing that Osprey hadn’t simply thrown me under the bus helped. While not supporting it, I would have understood him doing so—one way to take care of a nuisance. That he apparently hadn’t even tried was both comforting and confusing, although it likely shouldn’t have been. The only weird part about the entire situation had been my… misunderstanding, it seemed.
So now it was my competence that would get me killed.
Awesome.
I really could have done with another coffee, but Jared had been right about warning me about overdoing it.
Yesterday night had been one thing. Today was quite another.
Looked like I was going to head into my certain doom practically on my own volition, with my eyes open, and praying that, against all odds, I would make it back alive.
I had survived the damn infection. I’d gotten out of Charlotte and survived out there with only Kas for backup for a week. How much worse could sneaking into a city get?
With things decided now, everything was moving quickly. In short order, our newly formed group traipsed by the armory and picked up some of the meager contents that might help us multiply them.
I didn’t get a gun, but a trusty bat and what amounted to a combat knife suited me just fine. I had a feeling that after the first shot was fired, all of us would be doomed. Better it not come from me.
Then we went through available gear and packs before piling into the cars, leaving all the stations pretty much cleared out—the armory, the gear storage, and the garage.
Like with seeing the mass of people waiting for the Colonel’s speech, that sight was an eye-opener.
I’d known the Enclave was running short on everything except for warm bodies, but not this short. Osprey and Plato’s teams were left with the last three vehicles, two of which would follow us tomorrow if we radioed back that the route we were taking was mostly safe.
If none of us made it back, two thousand people were pretty much fucked.
While I was still pretty much ready to moan and complain about the unfairness of it all, I was glad I’d kept my tongue. The only thing I did insist on was riding shotgun with Jared, because getting stashed in the back row was not my style—even if it meant I had to push my seat forward as far as possible for Blake to stop complaining about the lack of legroom for him.
We were driving the damn SUV that we had picked up on the way to the power plant that Jared and friends had ended up taking when we’d fled from there—and left the rest of us to die in a possibly broken-down pickup when they’d driven off. Why it had stayed in the garage when we’d gone to check on the Militia HQ I didn’t know, nor did I really care. What was important was that the car was large, sturdy, and would hopefully maximize our chances of surviving yet another insane suicide run.
There was also plenty of room for potential cargo that we would hopefully pick up in and around Asheville.
We left the Enclave through a succession of tunnels, often with scared-looking people plastered against the walls as we inched by them. It made sense, of course—the plains by the front entrance were overrun while we’d managed to practically sneak in around the back. Why I hadn’t expected them to have mapped all the tunnels including alternate exit routes, I couldn’t say. Stupidity on my part, mainly. It was a welcome change from how things had been going for me lately.
Our column rolled out into the bright daylight a good mile from the main entrance, halfway up the cliff atop which the Militia outpost sat, only on the other side of where I’d seen them leave… only two days ago, I realized. We exchanged potentially killing innocents for possibly going right off the cliff as we followed a path that was way too narrow for any vehicle to follow, somehow making it to the very top in one piece. From there it was just a quick dash through the—already cleared—underbrush, and we rocked out onto a narrow but paved road, leading further into the forested hills. Twice, we went by manned checkpoints, explaining where Seneca’s men were stationed. I felt vaguely stupid for never having put much thought into where exactly the outposts were.
I didn’t like that feeling of warranted paranoia twinning with utter previous negligence.
And yet, I didn’t think that many inhabitants of the Enclave knew about the tunnels, pathways over the cliffs, or other exits.
