Hatcher blew his breath out hard. “I can’t see where displaying a body would curtail their attacks.” He made sure that Buck wasn’t in ear shot. “I can see how it might be some kind of warning amongst them, but we’re not infected. We’re their prey.”
Hollis leaned on the counter. “You know, my grandpa had a farm. If coyotes came close, he’d shoot one and hang it on the fence. He said it kept the others away.” He turned and eyed Hatcher. “Do you really think the coyotes cared if it was the old man that shot that carcass and left it? Do you think it would be any less effective if the chickens had done it themselves?” He shook his head. “If it works for the Zeds, it will work for us.”
Hatcher tried not to smile. “Personally, I’d be a hell of a lot more impressed if the chickens did it.”
Hollis gave him a stoic stare. “Well, buddy, in this analogy, we’re the chickens.”
Simon stared at the ruined jacket. He held it up to the daylight and saw the puncture mark through the colors he had given the owner. The leather was jagged where the steel had speared through the spine of the garment.
“There’s no blood inside.” He tossed the jacket aside.
“There was plenty on the ground boss.” Scud shook his head as he handed him a sack with human bones in it. “These were scattered everywhere.”
Simon dumped the bag and his face twisted. “A half-dozen good men lost. And for what?” He kicked the bones out of his path. “A fuckin’ manwich for the ragers.”
Scud fell into step behind him. “We never got word from Squirrel. We don’t know if he tracked down the guy from the truck or not.”
Simon spun on him, his face red with anger. “You really think that’s my priority right now?”
Scud shook his head nervously. “N-no idea, boss. I was just saying.”
“Say it somewhere else.” He turned and stormed away.
Scud turned back to the group and shrugged. “No idea what we’re gonna do.” He glanced over his shoulder at Simon’s retreating form. “I guess, smoke ’em if you got ’em.”
“We need to know if we’re setting up camp or hitting the road, Scud. We got kids that ain’t et all day.” The comment came from a worn and filthy woman, her rags hanging from her frail form.
Scud turned and stared at the woman. “If I knew, I’d tell ya.”
“Screw this.” Savage stood up and squared his shoulders. He was by far the largest and scariest looking of the group. Many had wondered how he had ever allowed Simon to run roughshod over him. “We gotta get our shit together.”
Scud watched the man follow Simon and feared that it was about to get real. He trotted after Savage and yelled for him. “Hey! Wait up, man.” He caught up with him and fell into step alongside. “What you got in mind?”
“I’m flat-out gonna ask him.” He paused and looked for which direction Simon may have gone. “We need direction. Either we’re gonna set up camp or we’re gonna keep moving.”
“He may not be sure yet, Savage. I mean, this is a pretty big thing to have to process and—”
“The fuck it is!” Savage spun on him, a finger in his face. “He’s the leader. We need him to lead.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Simon stepped out from behind a box van.
Savage turned and stared at the man. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. He stepped toward Simon and lowered his voice. “We need you to step up right now.” He pointed back at the crowd. “They need to know what to do. Either they pack up and prepare to move out or we find a spot to set camp.”
Simon raised a brow. “And if I don’t decide?”
Savage squared his shoulders and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Then maybe somebody makes the decision for you.”
Scud groaned and stepped between the two. “He didn’t mean that to sound like it did, boss. He’s not demanding nothin’.”
Savage turned a hateful glare at Scud. “Don’t be telling me what I mean, muthafucker. I’m a grown-assed man and can talk for myself.” He pushed Scud hard enough to knock him to the ground. He turned back to Simon. “I don’t give two shits what you think I’m doing.” He pointed to the crowd of people waiting to know what to do. “But they damned sure expect you to do your job.”
Simon gave Savage a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “And you? Are you expecting me to do my god damned job?”
Savage growled low in his throat. “This ain’t no pissing contest. I’ve had your back since this shit started, and you know I still have it. But you stomping off to have a pity party ain’t the way to show them you’re their leader.” He bent low and lowered his voice. “You got families out there. They need to know that you’re gonna step up.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Simon stepped forward and poked Savage in the chest. “You think I’m not aware of what’s happening?” He turned and glared at Scud. “What about you, dick breath? You gonna question my ability, too?”
Scud shook his head. “Nobody’s questioning you, boss. They just need to know what you want them to do.”
Simon shot him a tight-lipped smile. “Fine. Tell them to set up camp. Do what they got to do. Send some boys out to scrounge up food while they do.”
“What about the bones?” Savage asked, his eyes narrowing. “They were our foot soldiers. They deserve a decent burial.”
Simon turned and glared at him. “Then fucking bury them. I don’t care if you toss ’em to the damned dogs.” He threw his hands into the air. “If they’d done their fucking jobs, we wouldn’t have to deal with any of this shit.”
He turned and marched off again.
Scud looked to Savage and shook his head. “Man, I knew you
