Where else would we go?”
Liam shook his head. “Nowhere. We fight here. What weapon do you have?”
She held up her hands, and then tapped a flare gun on her belt. “They ran out. I’m supposed to fire the flare if you tell me to. We already fired our blue and yellow. This one’s black and red. Blue and yellow if we think we need help, black and red if we are being overrun,” she said sheepishly.
Liam reached out, and despite his own callousness, clutched her clammy hand. “You won’t need that, today,” he lied.
As he rose, he heard a voice behind him, from a man, his tired face etched with deep lines of mud. “I heard there were hundreds. We don’t stand a chance.”
Another rose, bright eyed and ruby red. “The Lion has never been broken. Jaxton won’t let them enter our valley.”
“It’s never been like this before. There are too many of them. We should be getting out the other side.”
Liam held up his hand. “Shut your mouth, coward. There are groups of men and women moving back from the fields, the fisheries, all the other settlements. If the Bear retreats, the infected will fall on them before they reach the Citadel.”
The face with muddy lines tightened, and his hands clutched his pathetic rifle. “Then they’ve already been told to retreat. It must be serious.”
Liam addressed them all, the nine feeble survivors standing at attention in the little musty church. “I won’t have your fear infecting the ranks. If anyone wants to go back, go back now. I don’t need you.”
The grubby man spat. “You’re letting us go?”
“How would I compel you to stay?”
He shrugged, and took three steps towards the green wooden doors, forced ajar. Two others hustled out with feverish eyes, leaving Liam and six others remaining. Only in the Bear, Liam thought.
“Right. I’m going to the steeple. The rest of you, onto the roofs of the main street. The infected can’t be far.”
No one moved, to Liam’ annoyance. He hefted his shotgun and his heavy boots thudded on the wooden floor. At his back, the others sprung into action.
Working his way to the back of the church, Liam found his reinforcements. Most of the civilians had fled the main street settlements not one hour before. Not these. A portly matron wearing a jean skirt, two red-faced teenagers, and an old man with wispy hair stood in his way, armed with axes and shovels.
Liam stared down at them. “Why didn’t you evacuate with the rest of them?”
The matron chuckled, not intimidated by the bear in the least. “This here is our Church. What kind of disciples would we be if we abandoned it in this hour of need?”
“You’re all going to die,” Liam snarled, enraged at their stupidity. “Have you ever fought the infected?” He snatched one of the acne-ridden teenagers’ shovels and tossed it aside. “Clearly not.”
“We fight with or without your help, boy.” The old man showed his rotting teeth and spat.
The moment hung in the air, till Liam shook his head clear. “Don’t let them up behind us. We’ll be on the rooftops.”
…
Liam kicked out the wooden grating at the top of the tiny steeple, thirty feet off the ground. He had a straight view of the main street of town, and spied the others clambering atop the second story buildings. He nodded in earnest to Cassidy, who clutched the flare gun nervously as she crouched behind another with a rifle.
Liam crouched on the splintering floor and loaded his slugs carefully. He only had 17. He could see the edge of town in the early morning light, and then beyond where the deeper woods began a few hundred feet in the distance. Aside from his breathing, all was silent. His eyes drifted to the Eastern ridge beyond, which cast a looming shadow across the town. He had heard the latest report from a runner of the Wolf.
The infected had entered the valley in force.
Liam shot a glance far behind him to the Western ridge, where he knew Jaxton was with thirty men.
Liam shook his head. “Nowhere. We fight here. What weapon do you have?”
She held up her hands, and then tapped a flare gun on her belt. “They ran out. I’m supposed to fire the flare if you tell me to. We already fired our blue and yellow. This one’s black and red. Blue and yellow if we think we need help, black and red if we are being overrun,” she said sheepishly.
Liam reached out, and despite his own callousness, clutched her clammy hand. “You won’t need that, today,” he lied.
As he rose, he heard a voice behind him, from a man, his tired face etched with deep lines of mud. “I heard there were hundreds. We don’t stand a chance.”
Another rose, bright eyed and ruby red. “The Lion has never been broken. Jaxton won’t let them enter our valley.”
“It’s never been like this before. There are too many of them. We should be getting out the other side.”
Liam held up his hand. “Shut your mouth, coward. There are groups of men and women moving back from the fields, the fisheries, all the other settlements. If the Bear retreats, the infected will fall on them before they reach the Citadel.”
The face with muddy lines tightened, and his hands clutched his pathetic rifle. “Then they’ve already been told to retreat. It must be serious.”
Liam addressed them all, the nine feeble survivors standing at attention in the little musty church. “I won’t have your fear infecting the ranks. If anyone wants to go back, go back now. I don’t need you.”
The grubby man spat. “You’re letting us go?”
“How would I compel you to stay?”
He shrugged, and took three steps towards the green wooden doors, forced ajar. Two others hustled out with feverish eyes, leaving Liam and six others remaining. Only in the Bear, Liam thought.
“Right. I’m going to the steeple. The rest of you, onto the roofs of the main street. The infected can’t be far.”
No one moved, to Liam’ annoyance. He hefted his shotgun and his heavy boots thudded on the wooden floor. At his back, the others sprung into action.
Working his way to the back of the church, Liam found his reinforcements. Most of the civilians had fled the main street settlements not one hour before. Not these. A portly matron wearing a jean skirt, two red-faced teenagers, and an old man with wispy hair stood in his way, armed with axes and shovels.
Liam stared down at them. “Why didn’t you evacuate with the rest of them?”
The matron chuckled, not intimidated by the bear in the least. “This here is our Church. What kind of disciples would we be if we abandoned it in this hour of need?”
“You’re all going to die,” Liam snarled, enraged at their stupidity. “Have you ever fought the infected?” He snatched one of the acne-ridden teenagers’ shovels and tossed it aside. “Clearly not.”
“We fight with or without your help, boy.” The old man showed his rotting teeth and spat.
The moment hung in the air, till Liam shook his head clear. “Don’t let them up behind us. We’ll be on the rooftops.”
…
Liam kicked out the wooden grating at the top of the tiny steeple, thirty feet off the ground. He had a straight view of the main street of town, and spied the others clambering atop the second story buildings. He nodded in earnest to Cassidy, who clutched the flare gun nervously as she crouched behind another with a rifle.
Liam crouched on the splintering floor and loaded his slugs carefully. He only had 17. He could see the edge of town in the early morning light, and then beyond where the deeper woods began a few hundred feet in the distance. Aside from his breathing, all was silent. His eyes drifted to the Eastern ridge beyond, which cast a looming shadow across the town. He had heard the latest report from a runner of the Wolf.
The infected had entered the valley in force.
Liam shot a glance far behind him to the Western ridge, where he knew Jaxton was with thirty men.
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