Rogers pointed behind him and moved on, continuing down the trail.
Jacob stepped off deeper into the woods in the direction of the smoke and burning fires. He found Marks farther up, face down, a knife gripped in his hand. The Deltas on all sides had been slashed apart. He knelt down and rolled the body over. His chest was covered in blood; his head fell limp to the side. Jacob backed away knowing his leader was dead. He dropped back and saw Stephens’ lifeless body leaning against a tree.
Jacob looked away, feeling a gurgle in his own guts as bile rushed to his stomach. He rocked back, looking off into the smoke. He took deep breaths as he tried to build the courage to face his friend. Stephens’s right arm was bent back and broken. He clutched a pistol in his left hand. Jacob moved closer, seeing Stephens’s white eyes looking straight ahead, unblinking. Not wanting the image burned into his memory, he looked away then staggered back, nearly falling to the ground.
He turned into the smoke-filled forest when he heard Duke’s whimper. Jacob increased his pace and searched the woods, again nearly falling. He searched for the mound where he knew James should be. He climbed up a rise, falling into the thick leaves and snow, clawing at the ground and crawling over several of the dead as he made his way to the top of the mound in the direction of Duke’s whine. At the edge, he saw the piles of expended brass and spent links from the machine gun. The M240 golf was lying on its side with part of a linked ammo belt still loaded and the barrel still smoking.
Jacob continued to the top then looked over the mound. James was sitting back in the dugout position, piles of mangled and twisted bodies all around him. Duke lay across his lap with James’ left hand covering the dog’s back. James’ head was to the side, looking into the forest canopy. He turned to face Jacob as he approached.
The Marine lay back in the soft mud, his body covered in grime. A Delta body with an open throat lay at his feet. James’ arms were pale, his knuckles cut and bleeding. His hands shook from exhaustion, and blood covered the side of his face. Duke looked up at Jacob for a moment before dropping his head back to James’ lap, releasing a soft whimper.
“Are you okay?” Jacob asked, stepping closer.
James nodded, his head barely moving, his hand stroking Duke’s back. “Did you see them?” he asked, turning his head in the direction of where Marks lay.
Jacob pursed his lips as he stumbled into the fighting position and dropped to the ground next to James, letting his rifle fall beside him.
“I couldn’t save them,” James said.
Jacob looked away. He fought back tears and took a deep sobbing breath. “It’s okay.”
“No it’s not,” James said, his voice breaking. “I can never save them.” He dropped his head, burying his face in Duke’s neck as he pulled the dog close to him. “I let them get to me again, and they always die.” His words trailed off and he turned his head away from Jacob.
Jacob looked up at the blue sky through the tree cover, wiping his eyes clear with his sleeve. “It’s okay,” he repeated, taking a deep breath.
James sniffed and exhaled, fighting back the tears. Lifting his head, he again looked up at the sky. He rolled his shoulders and stretched back, glancing in the direction where Marks and Stephens lay. His lip quivered. “There were so many of them. Everywhere all at once; they surrounded me. I tried to push them off, but they got too damn close and there were too many. They got in the hole. I didn’t ask for help but they came anyway. Marks and Stephens came back to get me. They drew them away from me. I couldn’t… why the hell did they come back?”
The bearded man shook his head, putting it down again. “I’m done, Jacob. I don’t want to do this anymore,” he said, just above a whisper. “They shouldn’t have come back.”
Jacob extended his hand, offering James a bottle of water. “Drink, you’ll feel better. You just need to rest.”
As James took the bottle, he looked at the caked blood on the back of his hands. He drank thirstily then took in a long breath. Closing his eyes tight, he exhaled loudly. “Let’s go back to the cabin; I’ll be okay. You’re right, Jacob. I’m just tired is all.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Wind blew at the cabin walls, the night air filled with the sounds of creaking branches. James slept in the bottom bunk with Duke curled in a tight ball at his feet. A fire burned in the wood stove, heating the small cabin above the bunker. Jacob was alone now. He was tired and hungry but with his body unwilling to sleep, he paced the cabin floor restlessly. Duke looked up at him with weary eyes. As Jacob moved past him, the dog buried his head in the thick blanket, hiding his face.
Jesse and Stone were both in the bunker below him, still down from their wounds. Gloria was doing what she could for them, but they would need a doctor soon. She patched them up and stopped the bleeding with what medical supplies they could offer. Rogers spent his time working on the radio, desperate to make contact with the rear. Desperate to call for an extraction.
Jacob opened the cabin door and stood in the opening, looking out into the surrounding woods. He let the cold breeze hit him in the face, heightening his senses. It was now dark. A bright moon lit the trees in a pale blue light and the snow had stopped falling, the weather turning clear. The dioxin worked. After the attack, the area became clear of them. Any they did see were dead or dying, others vacating the zone immediately around the lake.
Jacob left
