“Why would you turn over your supplies to him? Don’t get me wrong, there are innocent women and children that he drags with them everywhere, so the food and supplies would be much appreciated, but…isn’t that cutting your own throats?”
She shook her head. “We emptied the place of most of the good stuff.” She pointed to the door leading to the supplies. “In fact, we just raided it when we heard about your…I mean, his marauders from Hatcher.”
Roger walked over to the door and opened it. The rows of shelves and stacks of dry goods caused a low whistle to escape his lips. “You’ve probably got two years’ worth here.”
“We figure 14-16 months unless we ration.” She stepped next to him and gave him hopeful eyes. “What do you think?”
He gave a slow shoulder shrug. “It could be worth trying.” He took another glance at the supplies, then turned to her. “How would you tell him where it was?”
She chewed on her thumbnail while she thought. “Definitely not the radio. That would lead to more trouble than I’m willing to risk.” She turned to him and snapped her fingers. “Signal fire.”
He shook his head. “I’ve never seen a rager cause a fire. He’d know it was people. And where there’s people, there’s opportunity.”
“Then I have no idea.”
Roger blew his breath out hard and leaned against the wall. “I can think of one way…”
She narrowed her eyes. “What are you thinking?”
“You aren’t gonna like it.”
Chapter 9
Hatcher strained his ears to listen in the darkness. He could almost swear he heard movement in the woods. A snap of a twig, the rustling of leaves, the occasional grunt…all noises that might seem perfectly normal if the woods weren’t full of Zulus.
“Relax, ranger. You’re wound so tight a hoot owl might give you a coronary.”
Hatcher tried to chuckle, but he knew Hollis was right. He tried to stretch his neck, to work the nervous tension from his muscles, but they wouldn’t give. “Too much coffee, I suppose.”
“You shouldn’t eat the freeze-dried coffee from the MRE’s. That shit will rot your innards.” Hollis checked his weapon for the twentieth time.
“You said it would be a long night.” Hatcher reached into his shirt pocket and pulled the little packet of freeze-dried awesomeness out. “Care to join me?”
Hollis shook his head. “I’ve got my own.” He patted his own breast pocket. “I’m saving it for when my eyelids try to slam shut.”
Buck slid in next to Hatcher. “I checked every window. If they’re out there, they’re staying just deep enough in the shadows that I can’t spot them.”
“They’re out there.” Hollis whispered. “Time for check-ins.” He leaned away and radioed his men standing guard.
Hatcher tried again to stretch his neck and work the tension from his shoulders, but his body refused to cooperate. He looked to Buck who almost seemed bored. “You doing okay?”
Buck nodded. “Just another night in paradise.” He shot the older man a grin. “I take solace in the fact they have a dozen or so heavily muscled soldiers to eat through before they get to me. Hopefully, they’ll be full and lose interest.”
A muffled scream was heard outside and Hatcher cringed. He tried to argue with Hollis about leaving the captured Zulu alive, but Hollis was resolute. Allow the creature to live, stake it to the edge of the sight lines and use it as bait. If anything comes into range of the thermals, they light it up.
His men had treated the creature much like a rabid dog. A neck noose run through a length of steel pipe was used to keep it at arm’s length. They had secured its hands behind the back with rope and hobbled it at the ankles, giving just enough mobility they were able to move the creature without carrying it.
Even Buck thought it should have been put out of its misery and then used as a warning to the others. Hatcher wondered if they had hoped having a living, breathing test subject was the military’s plan until Hollis informed him they had dozens on the research vessel.
He turned to Buck and rolled his eyes. “I still can’t fathom why they’d leave that thing alive.”
Buck sighed and leaned against the short wall by the window. “I’ve no idea. If he had any real dealings with these things, he’d know that you can’t reason with a wild animal. And really, that’s all these people are anymore. Wild friggin’ animals.”
Another muffled scream interrupted their discussion, but it was the unmuffled scream from the woods that caused the hair on the back of their necks to stand on end.
Hollis rolled back next to Hatcher and keyed his mic. “Be ready, people.”
Buck sat up and peered over the window sill. His eyes were adjusted to the darkness inside and the moon in the night sky almost had the grounds lit up like day. “I’m still not seeing them.”
A blur shot past the window and toward the roof. Buck jumped back and stared at Hatcher’s form. “What was that?”
Hollis pressed a finger against the earbud and said, “Say again your last.” A moment later he turned to Hatcher. “They’re throwing rocks and spears.”
The staccato of gunfire could be heard coming from outside as sentries barked, “Contact!” through their radios.
“Get ready, kid. I think it’s about to hit the fan.” Hatcher popped up and leaned the barrel of his rifle on the sill, scanning the woods.
Buck tried to think about the attacks he had witnessed before. A sudden realization struck him. “Captain! Tell your men to check the back side of the house!” He rolled back and was on his feet. Before Hollis could question him, a scream was heard outside, but it wasn’t the scream of the infected. It was the scream of a man being ripped to shreds.
Buck was at the back window and pointing. “They’re attacking!”
Savage inspected the scene with the eye of a suspicious man. He picked at
