This time, he was prepared.
28
Missy slowed the ATV and veered from the path they had taken to get to the burial grounds. She pointed ahead to a stand of trees jutting into a clearing. “It’s just the other side of those trees.”
Hatcher nodded and followed her. He wanted to see where the bison had been felled. He didn’t know why, but his gut told him that he needed to check out the kill zone.
She slowed the ATV and shut off the engine, coasting the short way down the hill and to the edge of the treeline. “Just over there.”
She stepped off of the ATV and pulled the helmet from her head. She hung it on the handlebars and stretched her lower back as he drove past her and closer to the piles of bones.
Hatcher slid from the saddle of the four wheeler and walked amongst the remains. “All of this?” He waved his arm toward the scattered bones.
She nodded as she walked toward him. “Some of the bones have been carried off by scavengers.” She paused and scratched at her head. “They’ll drag off the leftovers from a Snapper kill, but not a Snapper itself? Weird.”
Hatcher shrugged. He raised his voice so that she could hear. “Must be a scent they don’t like.” He walked slowly into the mass of bones and paused to try to picture the attack. “I’m thinking they were grazing in this clearing and the Zulus…er, the Snappers tried to corner them.”
She stood across from him and shrugged. “I’m not privy to their tactics, sorry.”
Hatcher shook his head as he stared at the scene. “It’s not making sense.” He pointed to the stand of trees. “Those wouldn’t stop full grown buffalo from charging through the woods.”
She tried to imagine a spooked herd of bison and sighed. “Maybe a handful chased them down here and the rest were waiting in the trees?”
“Maybe.”
“What difference does it make now?” she asked.
Hatcher leaned against a tree and kicked at the bones near his feet. “I’m not sure.” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and sighed. “Those bodies up there didn’t seem that old. I mean, yeah, they were ripe, but there wasn’t much decay.”
She nodded slowly. “So, you’re thinking that some of them were part of the crew that did this?”
He shrugged. “Possibly. Or there’s another crew that is policing the area and gathering the dead.”
“But you said there was a cure out now, right?”
He nodded slowly. “If they were exposed to it. I know my people got sore throats really bad and—”
“Was that a couple of weeks ago? Like a really bad strep throat?”
He nodded. “Did you get it?”
She nodded, a slow smile forming. “And I thought it was really weird because I remember from micro that lone people rarely get sick. Colds and strep and the like are spread from person to person. And since I was alone, it kind of freaked me out.”
“Hmm.” Hatcher bent to pick up a bone. “So the cure came through this area.”
She turned back for the ATV. “Hold on a second. My journal has the exact date.” She trotted back up the hill towards the four wheeler and Hatcher walked further down the hill, counting the bison remains. “It looks like there were—”
A shrill scream broke the quiet and both rangers turned, looking for the source. Hatcher felt his blood run cold as a wild man burst from the stand of trees across the clearing and screamed again, his focus on Missy.
The man took off at high speed, his hands held straight down as his body jerked across the rough terrain. Hatcher’s eyes slipped up the hill toward Missy and saw her frozen in fear as the man ran at her, screaming.
“Son of a bitch!” He darted for his ATV and grabbed the 30.30, pulling it from the leather scabbard and quickly chambering a round. He brought the rifle to his shoulder and sighted down its length.
He forced his body to calm down and tried to lead the charging wild man. He squeezed the trigger and watched as a plume of dirt shot up to the man’s right, indicating he’d led him too far. He quickly chambered another round and adjusted his aim.
He had to force himself not to panic as he led the charging man again and squeezed off another round. The plume of dirt was behind the charging form and Hatcher cursed as he chambered a third round.
He glanced toward Missy and saw her backing up, her hand bringing up her own weapon. She disappeared behind the tip of the treeline and Hatcher focused his attention on the man once more. With his peripheral vision he could see that he was quickly closing on Missy’s last known position and in just a moment the trees would block his line of sight.
Hatcher focused down the length of the rifle again and loosed the third shot, quickly chambering a fourth round and firing wildly at the advancing form before the trees blocked the carnage from his sight.
He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he heard three rapid fire shots and a blood curdling scream.
He dropped the rifle and ran for the edge of the treeline for all he was worth as time slowed to a crawl.
“They’re responding well.” Randy stated as he walked between the acrylic cells. “We might be able to remove them sooner if they continue.”
Broussard paced the lab, rubbing at his jaw as he tried to calculate in his head the effective aerosolized dose. “I don’t want to give them any more than we absolutely have to.”
Carol rubbed at her eyes and shook her head to stay awake, fighting back a yawn. “Sorry. Full tummy.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “We can increase the dosage if you think it’s—”
“No,” he cut her off. “By calculating their respiration rates and the volume
