Green Fields (Book 4): Extinction Read Free

vision again, several of the cows running ahead. Just as I was about to ask what we were about to do next, Andrej leaned out of the passenger side window, rifle at his shoulder. Two of the cows jerked, then a third, all three animals going down by the time we caught up.
    “You fucking suckers shot them? But we need them alive!” I shouted as I brought the car to a halt, cautiously looking around. No ditches, not even some underbrush anywhere in sight—we were smack in the middle of another pasture.
    “Tranquilizer gun,” the Ice Queen drawled succinctly. “Enough to knock out an elephant, but not keep anything down for long.”
    That made me pause. While I still debated with myself what to reply, I watched as Clark, Bailey, and Pia scrambled out of the cars, ropes at the ready. One of the cows looked out cold but the other two were still trying to rise, lowing softly, but none of the screaming that the dying cow I’d felled had done.
    Glancing at Nate, I raised my brows. “We have tranq guns?”
    He shrugged, as if that shouldn’t have been news to me. It probably shouldn’t have.
    “Picked up some in that mall we raided three days ago,” Pia told me. “Putting that ketamine from the pharmacy hit to good use.”
    I didn’t ask how they’d gotten the pills into a form useable to down cows.
    “That was for human use only! For surgical operations, or as a heavy painkiller. Can you imagine how many people could have found relief for what you just shot up into those fucking animals?”
    Looking up from where she was done tying the end of the lead rope of one cow to the Jeep, she gave me a dazzling grin.
    “Zero. Would all have ended up on the black market for someone to get high on it. This way people eat. You can always tough out setting a broken bone without painkillers, but you can’t heal if you’re starving.”
    She had a point there, but I was still miffed that no one had told me this was an option. I filed that away for later, likely when one of them had a sore tooth again and complained about it.  
    “So what’s the plan now?” I asked, staring at the cows lying between the cars. If the shamblers decided to come after us, we’d have to cut them loose, because dragging a tranqued-up cow would slow us down too much—besides killing the animal and subjecting it to needless torment. I was realistic enough that I wasn’t weeping for the animal that I’d killed—and without that carcass drawing the zombies’ attention, we likely wouldn’t have gotten away clean—but there was a difference between making a sacrifice and torture.
    Rather than answer me, Nate unbuckled himself and got out to check the right front of the car. I hesitated, then did the same, if only after making sure that my jacket was properly zipped up. Shotgun in hand, I walked to the rear, grimacing at the new dent in our armor plates and blood smears, complete with little tufts of fur dangling from them. Someone would have to clean that up. That someone would likely be me.
    “Light’s busted but nothing grave,” Nate declared as he came around the back to stand beside me.
    “Cosmetic damage only,” I reported, nudging the plates with my foot. No give whatsoever. Everything was still firmly in place.
    We looked at each other. I knew a sarcastic remark was coming, but interesting enough, Nate swallowed it in favor of turning away to look in the direction that we’d come from. We were too far away to see the rise clearly, but that tree close to where the cow had found its end was still visible.
    “We should go investigate,” he said—not a proposition, clearly. “Romanoff, take Cho, Martinez, Taylor, and Lewis with you. No need to rouse any more of the undead fuckers, but find out how many of them are hiding there. Swing by the farm house, too. Maybe we can find a couple of batteries and tools. If it’s crawling with zombies, ignore it and report back. You have two hours. By then, the cows should be up and running.” He