The men fidgeted uncomfortably, avoiding his glare. “It’s a big town, boss. Them ragers could be anywhere,” Scrub replied. “They mighta been a roving pack just happened to catch our boys off guard. Or they might have stomping grounds they protect.”
Simon glared at the man. “Then maybe we should find out. We’re owed a pound of flesh!” Spittle flew from his lips as he screamed.
Scrub nodded, knowing better than to speak.
Savage finally stood and pointed to two of the men. “You two are with me.”
Simon stepped in front of him, his eyes still filled with anger. “Where the hell are you off to?”
Savage never batted an eye. “We’re going back to where the boys got eaten. If the ragers are still out there, we’ll find them.”
Simon shook his head. “It’s near dark. And if they can get the jump on six of our boys—”
“They didn’t expect them,” Savage interrupted. “We will.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “You two gear up. We ride in ten.”
He turned to leave when Simon stepped in front of him. “I didn’t dismiss you!”
Savage looked down at the man and it almost appeared as though he were bored. “You sorta did. You said we needed to find out what happened. I’m volunteering.” He pointed at the two men standing by the entry to the tent, eyes wide as they watched the two. “And they were voluntold.” He gave Simon a cheesy grin.
Simon nodded slowly. “Okay, then.” He turned back to his remaining lieutenants. “That’s a man of action! You all should be more like Savage.”
“We’ll be careful not to lead any back,” Savage added, noticing how the possibility slowly sunk in with the others. The thought of ragers attacking while they slept suddenly filled their minds. He chuckled to himself as he marched toward his bike.
Simon stuck his head out of the tent. “Try to be back before sundown.”
“Yes, Mom.” Savage gave him a one-fingered salute as he walked away.
The flight officer checked Vivian’s equipment while the helicopter’s engine slowly started spinning up the blades. “Remember, you’ll have to communicate through this.” He tapped at the headphones and mic that she wore. “They can’t hear you, otherwise.”
She gave him a thumbs up and adjusted the ear cuffs. “They’re a little loose.”
He waved her off. “You’ll be fine, ma’am. It’s just to communicate with the pilots.” He strapped her gear to the deck and patted her leg. “You’re good to go.”
“Where are we refueling again?”
“Boise, ma’am. But you’ll only be there long enough to top off the tanks.” He pointed below the craft where she couldn’t see. “We have externals on this thing. Should be enough fuel to get you there and back, but since you’ll be detouring on the return trip, we just want to make sure you’re good on fuel.”
She nodded. “Will there be an in-flight movie?”
The flight officer paused and gave her a surprised look. “I’m not—”
“It was a joke, lieutenant. Relax.” She double-checked her straps, then shot him a smile. “I’m just busting your chops.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stepped back and eyed her and her gear once more. “Safe travels, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” She heard the engines whine as they revved higher, then the door was pulled shut, cutting her off from the outside world. She felt the craft begin to rise and her stomach did a quick flip-flop. She clutched the straps holding her to the seat and closed her eyes. She offered up a quick prayer to whichever god might be listening, then forced her eyes open.
Although the craft bucked a bit and the noise was terrific inside the craft, she noticed the two pilots in the front didn’t appear concerned at all. She really disliked flying, but she particularly hated helicopters. She had heard if a fixed wing craft lost power, it could still possibly glide down for a landing. Helicopters dropped from the sky like rocks.
As those thoughts ran through her mind for the hundredth time, she wondered just how smart she must be to not only purposely get into the blasted machine, but to fight for the opportunity to do so. She groaned to herself and sat back, trying to force herself to relax.
“I feel like a hipster.” Roger turned while the girls nodded. “I mean, really? Flannel and chinos? Don’t you have any Levi’s back there?”
Candy fought the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I like the khakis. They bring out the tan of your skin.”
Vicky nodded. “And trimming your beard into a goatee is a nice touch. All you need now is a man bun.” She snickered.
Roger groaned and turned back to the showers. “I’m shaving my head.”
“Like hell.” Candy slipped off the table she sat upon and fell into step behind him. “Find a seat Officer Bigshot. I’ll cut your hair.”
He turned and gave her a cautious look. “Do you know how to cut hair?”
She smiled as she walked past him. “If I screw it up, you can shave it.” She turned and pointed at him with both hands. “It would be a crime to lop off all of those curly locks.”
Roger groaned and sat on the stool nearest the door. Candy emerged with a sheet and a small travel bag. “I got scissors, razors, and trimmers.” She stopped and gave him a lopsided grin. “I think I might can fix this mop.”
“Tell me you know what you’re doing.”
She set up at the table and snapped the sheet out in front of him. “Believe it or not, I went to Vo-tech for this before I decided I’d rather carry a badge and a gun.” She tied the sheet around his neck and rolled a towel under the edge. “I was pretty good back in my day.”
“Back in your day? Am I looking at an 80s haircut here?” He turned and gave her a mischievous grin. “You do realize that mullets are long dead, right?”
She punched him in the arm. “I’m not that old, smart ass.” She
