Scott saw the hand, and like any of them, should have realized if Shaun still had his leg intact that he had been successful with his zombie hypothesis. Scott tried to remain calm, but the overwhelming excitement that he was feeling was undeniable. It did not take Clary much longer than Scott to have those same emotions racing like a drug throughout his body. Clary whispered, barely making an audible tone. He said, “Did it fucking work? The Turned are scared of nothing. Did it truly work?
Scott wiped a few more times at his eyes before finally taking a good look at the zombie, whose facial expression seemed stuck in a rage that was missing the violence in its eyes. Scott wasn't going to be too cocky, even though he figured he was safe, given the fact Greg had just broken all of its fingers until he had been able to remove the hand. Scott poked it in the eyeball, figuring if that didn't infuriate it there probably wasn't much else that would.
Scott said, “I think it works. I think we need to go assess the situation here and see what's going on outside. The longer we stay in here, the better chance we're going to have of more of those things coming and finding us.”
Clary, who should have been ecstatic, was cursing, saying, “God dammit, the radio is out.”
Greg, who didn't think the possibility of a life without the dead would ever be possible, yelled, “Clary, for the love of fucking God could you just take two seconds to realize how great this is?”
Clary replied quickly without hesitation, “It's only going to be great if we make it back to the base. Now, as big of a fan as I am of walking a good 15 to 20 miles, it definitely isn't my favorite activity. Especially since I already rang the dinner bell. Who knows if more of those are on their way towards us or not?”
Earl said, “That's like 15 miles with no car, right?”
Everybody, especially Clary, ignored Earl's question. Scott didn't wait for anyone else to speak; he used both feet, pushing on the Turned’s shoulder to make enough room in the window, and started making his way out of the Humvee. He kept waiting for a pair of hands to grab on to his ankles and yank him out of the Humvee and tear him apart, ensuring the fact that he would never see his son again. That was not something which he wanted to do to his only boy. Scott obviously was well aware that his wife, who had died a painful, terrible death, would not be able to take care of the boy if something happened to him. As much as he thought the people on base seemed to be good, minus a few whose attitude he did not care for particularly, he still did not want someone else raising his own child.
The other four watched diligently, waiting to see if what Scott thought was going to happen would, and when he got the Turned out of the way, everyone saw the most beautiful sight they had ever laid eyes on, they thought. Or at least, as beautiful of something as you could say it was, when it came to the Turned. They walked out, feeling the hot sun striking their faces, and stood up looking around. None of them had ever seen so many of the Turned fall to a human's hand without a single bullet being fired. Everyone's hopes began to rise like mercury.
The group blinked, letting their eyes adjust to the bright sun. It was still unimaginable that such a thing had happened. Earl said, “Do ya’ll got any phones you could just maybe give us a quick call and have somebody come snag us?”
Greg said, “There hasn't been a working phone in a hell of a long time, Earl. We usually have radios, but I know I didn't bring mine today.”
Earl said, “So none of ya’ll thought I had, huh? You know it's planning like that that really just makes my asshole pucker.”
Clary said, “You realize we wouldn't be here right now if your ignorant ass would have had the intelligence to modify a weapon that only worked in certain environments. I just can't wrap my head around the way that you think.”
Earl replied, “You know, when I was younger, I tried out for the mentos club. Now, I didn't pass. But I sure was close. They said you get 500 points just for getting your name right. They said if I could have gotten one more letter of it not confused that I would have gotten 500 points. So how much longer ya'll want to stand around here looking at each other? Or do you think maybe we ought to start heading in the direction of y’alls camp. You do know how to get back to it, right?”
“I’m a Navy SEAL, asshole, we don’t get lost. We don’t make mistakes.”
“But you got your ride flipped over, and don’t have a bunch of them there radios that we could call someone and just get a quick ride back in a nice armor plated vehicle, right?”
“Earl, I feel like it is best if you and I no longer talk. Would you be alright with that?”
“I have a choice?”
“Not really,” Clary said as he started walking away.
Greg, who could see that he was flustered and secretly loved this fact, didn’t move an inch. Clary saw him and was going to yell
