Free Green Fields (Book 4): Extinction by Adrienne Lecter

there’d ever come a day again when paranoia wasn’t my survival instinct number one.
    Probably not.

    We were up and moving at first light, only taking the time to don our full fighting gear before we were on the road again. It was cold enough outside of the car that I was quite happy to put on the extra layers. Nate and I had a quick spat—that I won—over what pants I should be wearing. I opted for the lighter tactical cargo pants that I usually wore because I needed to be able to fully move inside the car, and the protector pads of the kevlar lined riot-gear pants that we’d acquired on our last raid didn’t have enough give at the hips and knees. It was bad enough that I had to wear my neck brace—as I liked to refer to the reinforced neck and shoulder protector rig I put on underneath my jacket to seal the most vulnerable part of my torso to all manners of attacks. I certainly hoped that I wouldn’t have to get my helmet, goggles, and breathing mask out, but they were stored underneath the weapons in the center console, right at my fingertips. I didn’t plan on exiting the car, but if I had to, for whatever reason, I was ready.
    As soon as we were crawling up the meadow behind the hollow where we’d camped for the night, Nate hailed Jason on the radio, affirming that we were en route and would meet up with them within the hour. That happened closer to thirty minutes later, most of which we spent traversing a small creek. The Chargers had set up their camp well—the only natural barrier that worked against zombies so far was water, and the spot between the creek and the ridge overlooking the valley was perfect.
    It also gave me and idea of what we were up against as soon as I got out of the car and looked out over the riverbed and the settlement below. The view was so unreal that it took my mind a few seconds to process it.
    I didn’t think I’d ever seen that many people in one place in my entire life before the zombie apocalypse turned everything to shit—and they hadn’t all been out to eat us.
    “Remind me again why we’re doing this?” I asked Nate who’d come to a halt beside me.
    “I know why I’m doing it,” he said, his voice about as flat as my own. “I have no idea whatsoever why you’re doing it.”
    I looked at him sharply, expecting a smirk, but he just held my gaze evenly. When I didn’t reply, he turned away, walking over to the man who was clearly in charge. They all had that certain look to them. Or maybe it was easy to single him out because he was looking at each of us rather than staring at my ass. It happened.
    Nate and Jason shook hands. A quick round of introductions followed. Jason Luke wasn’t quite how I’d pictured him—nothing could account for that shock of ginger hair at the crown of his head, set in even more stark relief as he kept the sides and back shaved to buzz-cut length—but he was tall, he was built, just as most of his guys were. I didn’t quite manage a smile when Jason asked, nodding toward me, “Your wife?” to which Nate replied, completely without deflection, “My pilot.” No one made a stupid remark, and there was a definite air of respect between our groups. I hadn’t expected any lascivious remarks—not with a fuck-ton of zombies just a mile below us—but it was good to know that once the novelty of having women among them wore off, the other mercs mostly ignored me. I still wished I could command that air of calm and confidence that Pia was emanating. She never got those looks that I did.
    Jason and his second in command, Charlie, held a brief meeting with Nate, Pia, and Andrej, while the rest of us grunts remained with the cars. The Chargers had similar equipment as we did, an eclectic mix of military gear and outdoor wear, with the odd motorcycle leathers thrown in just for fun. Also like us, they were armed to the teeth, and it took Burns exactly five minutes to start complaining why we didn’t have car-mounted machine guns yet. I