Green Fields (Book 4): Extinction Read Online Free Page A

neither did Nate’s smirk.
    “Well, what did you feed those other two scavenger groups?”
    Another pause, this one long enough to make me want to reach for the box of grenades that we kept in the back row and lob a few over the wire fences.
    “Beef stew,” came the eventual answer.
    “And is there still some left of that? Or, you know, you could just slaughter one of your fucking cows if you get three more now, anyway.” I’d intended to warn them that we’d drugged the cows with ketamine, but considering the circumstances, I was happy to get someone really sleepy if they were unlucky.
    “Some.” This time, the pause was shorter. “We’ll send someone out with a pot, if you have something to store the stew in? Don’t stay here.”
    “And the cows?” When I didn’t get a reply straight away, I added, “I swear to you, if you don’t take the damn cows inside, we’re going to slaughter them right in front of your gate. Less than an hour away the hills are swarming with zombies. We had to sacrifice one cow to get away. They’ll smell the carcasses and be here before nightfall. Even if they don’t tear down your flimsy little excuse for a barricade, they’ll squat here for days, if not weeks. And for every single one you shoot, ten more will come. Just consider how fucking long you’ll be stuck with your scavengers then?”
    Surprisingly, that got him talking.
    “Don’t do that! Jesus Christ, you fuckers really are all insane!” Someone grumbled something in the background, and a moment later the guy was back on. “We’ll take the cows. Just sent someone running to get the stew, but it’s mostly veggies and potatoes. Some bread, too, but we don’t have much left from lunch.”
    Exhaling slowly, I allowed myself to ease up a little, although I wasn’t beyond seeing Nate’s smirk deepen. Asshole.
    “Veggies sound good actually. Meat we can easily just grill ourselves. Cook, not so much. Bread’s awesome.”
    So it came to be that after an endless twenty minutes of waiting, the gate opened and ten weary-looking men, armed to the teeth, exited. I’d gotten tired of waiting in the car about twenty hours ago so I was standing next to my door, watching them approach. They eyed us as cautiously as if we’d had zombies chained up rather than cattle, and when the one that approached us saw the dark marks in the shapes of three Xs on Nate’s and Pia’s necks, he blanched visibly. Only after I’d pointedly turned around and showed him that I only had one X across my neck he seemed to find his voice again. It was the guy from the radio.
    “We’ll take the cows in. You can come with us to fetch the stew. Only you.”
    I stared right back at him, not moving a muscle. If he thought I was less dangerous than some of my companions, he deserved to get his dick chewed off by zombies. Sure, I wouldn’t rise as one of the super fast, insanely durable undead if someone gunned me down, and I might not be able to continue walking for two days after I got speared by a rebar, but the shotgun in my hands wasn’t just for show. I could see that realization dawn on him as he kept studying me—combat boots, tactical cargo pants, jacket, orange-tinted shooting glasses, hair tied securely out of my face to make sure that my vanity wouldn’t be the end of me. That I was the only one left with long hair since Bates had bit the dust was one concession I wasn’t going to let go, faded pinkish-red ends notwithstanding. And as long as I didn’t stand right next to Burns, I didn’t look that much shorter than the others.
    My silence had apparently been answer enough because the guy continued to fidget while five others went to fetch the cows.
    “I take it that’s a no?”
    “That’s a 'how stupid do you think I am?' no,” I confirmed his guess.
    His gaze dropped down to my shotgun, then over to the cows. It was nice that, for once, someone was taking me seriously. I didn’t tell him that I had no intention whatsoever