Decay (Book 2): Humanity by Linus Locke Page A

Tyler was sent with yet another group. Layla, wrapped in a blanket, stood next to the hotel and waved as the Jeeps rolled by. Her tears glistened on her cheeks, the breeze gently ruffling her blonde hair.
    “You know, for someone supposed to be a little scared, you sure do have a big smile on your face,” Guillermo said, giving Jonathan a wink.
    “Oh god, are you serious?” Jonathan felt awful, how crazy he must look heading into a massacre with a shit-eating grin.
    “We’re going to drop you off about a mile out from their camp,” the man in the passenger seat said. “From there you will move to the locations marked on your map and wait. Anyone who tries to get by you gets shot. I’m sure you have all been told, but just in case you haven’t, when you hear this signal,” he whistled the same high-pitched turkey gobble that Reese had whistled earlier, “You can make your way back to the rendezvous for pick up.” He turned to look at the passengers, “Its cold and the snow’s deep in some places so move carefully. Any questions?”
    No questions were asked. The passengers sat quietly, probably too scared to ask or trying so hard to block out their own fear they didn’t realize they were being talked to, anyway. Jonathan just tried to keep the smile off his face.
    The rest of the drive was bumpy yet uneventful. They avoided roads, driving the Jeeps through the snowy forest-covered mountains. It was much darker deep in the trees where the moonlight couldn’t penetrate, but the drivers were able to find their way easily despite the lack of light. As they approached the drop-off point, the trucks split up as the groups headed toward their own areas.
    As the four-by-four came to a stop, the passenger turned around again. “Their camp is a mile that way.” He pointed out of the passenger-side of the truck. “You need to walk three-quarters of that and wait for the signal. Remember, kill everyone that tries to come through. No exceptions! Check your weapons! Good luck.”
    With that said, the group opened the doors and climbed out. They had walked about fifty yards before the truck moved on through the snow. Jonathan assumed that the driver and passenger had their own part to play in this other than wait for the sentinels to return. He also had the feeling like they had just been left out here to die, or that the guys in the trucks are taking cover until this is over.
    “You know,” Jonathan started, talking quietly. “If we survive this–this deal we are in now, the rest of the trip to Iowa–and it turns out that I cannot stop this. I may have to make a home here. I mean, I am already sick of being cold. I hate the snow, my feet and fingers are frozen, but there are so few fiends here,” he said this as Guillermo swung Kadavre and sliced into the head of a dead woman that had shambled toward them.
    “Yeah, it’s not like Clay Hills. I miss my home, but when you can’t walk down the street without being eaten. . .then it really isn’t home. I think I can trade that for this any day.” Guillermo responded as they fought through the snow. “Nope, never mind, just got snow in my boots. I want to go back to California.”
    “That’s kinda cool that you call them fiends,” came a shaky young voice from behind them. “My name’s Chris.” The young man held out his gloved hand, which they shook respectfully. Jonathan recognized him instantly as the trembling teen. “We call them ghouls here. There’s a reason we don’t see that many of them out here, aside from the cold that is. There are thousands of them locked away in cages up in the mountains.
    “I don’t know if I should tell you guys that or not, but I figure if they have you out here with us then you deserve to know.” Off in the distance the chopping sound of the helicopter blades filled the air. “Here some of them come now, and just in time it looks like. We’re here.” He pointed through the trees at the lights coming from the camp.