nature’s stalking. With the antidote in his system, he felt confident that he was fully immune from the new infection. Long travels through infected landscapes proved to him its value, but now the lack of backup terrified him. The Plaguers were unpredictable and dangerous.
Their slightly bloodshot eyes usually gave them away if one looked closely enough. That and the sores that tended to develop around the mouth. If all else failed, shoot first and ask questions later. His dead companions taught him the importance of caution. As he thought back on the Mohawk camp, he questioned if their paranoia led directly to their demise. He’d only hooked up with them a few weeks before meeting Roger, Tom, and Kelly. He'd aligned himself with the wrong group. Roger’s group still breathed.
Lost in thought, Saul missed the man watching him pass from inside an abandoned vehicle. The man picked up a Walkie-Talkie from the car seat and said, “Take him, Stephen.”
A quarter-mile down the road the first crackle of gunfire sounded as a bullet hit Saul squarely in the shoulder. The force threw him backwards. Losing control of the reins, he tumbled off the side of the horse and hit the ground hard. The second bullet came shortly thereafter. A perfect head shot. Saul’s journey abruptly ended.
Stephen walked up and used his foot to push Saul over. He took a good look at his face. “Shit,” he said sourly. “It’s Saul.” He spit next to Saul’s head. “That sucks.”
Saul was part of a group that passed through a week earlier warning of Plaguers. The group left a vial of antidote, but no one bothered to use it. They didn’t believe in the new infection. Unfortunately for them, it started taking root a few days after Saul's group left.
The man from the car approached from down the road. “You got him good!” he yelled loudly.
“Yeah, I know, but it was Saul!” Stephen yelled back.
“I know. I saw him pass!”
“What the fuck, Marty? You knew and you told me to shoot him?”
“You needed the practice!” Marty stated with a chuckle as he walked up.
Stephen cracked a smile. “Asshole. It’s not like you’re some perfect shot.”
Holding a rifle by his side, Marty raised it a few inches and put two more slugs into Saul’s body at point blank range. Saul’s body briefly jumped from the impact.
“There. That was a perfect shot.”
Not to be outdone, Stephen lifted the sniper rifle and put a bullet through Saul’s left eye. “Two can play that game, moron.”
“Yeah, well let’s see how you do with a knife!” Marty pulled out a large hunting knife and bent down by the body.
“No, you don’t!” yelled Stephen. “He’s my kill! I get first dibs!”
The men exchanged barbs for a few minutes before Marty backed off.
“Fine! Next time I’m sniper.”
Stephen went to work with his own knife, carving around the skull. He peeled the hair back and removed Saul’s scalp. He then pulled out a boning knife and sawed through the skull. “I get the brains,” he said as he peered up at Marty with a grin. "I love brains."
“Fine with me. Probably got bullet fragments in ‘em now, ya idiot. I want thigh meat, anyway.”
Two days earlier, at the same spot in San Marcos, Texas, a party of seven trespassed down their road. On foot, the trespassers were heavily armed. As Marty watched, though, something felt different about them. He'd radioed Stephen and told him to lower his weapon. Within minutes they'd all been standing around laughing, getting to know each other.
Marty wasn’t sure why he'd spared them. He'd felt a connection. They were now part of their group. Maybe it the same look in the eyes…
CHAPTER TEN
Yvette agreed to watch the boys for an hour. It gave Jade a chance to get in some much-needed exercise. At the training center, she bobbed around a heavy bag, peppering it with jabs before throwing a few strong combinations. She flicked her right leg high at the bag, smacking it at head
Their slightly bloodshot eyes usually gave them away if one looked closely enough. That and the sores that tended to develop around the mouth. If all else failed, shoot first and ask questions later. His dead companions taught him the importance of caution. As he thought back on the Mohawk camp, he questioned if their paranoia led directly to their demise. He’d only hooked up with them a few weeks before meeting Roger, Tom, and Kelly. He'd aligned himself with the wrong group. Roger’s group still breathed.
Lost in thought, Saul missed the man watching him pass from inside an abandoned vehicle. The man picked up a Walkie-Talkie from the car seat and said, “Take him, Stephen.”
A quarter-mile down the road the first crackle of gunfire sounded as a bullet hit Saul squarely in the shoulder. The force threw him backwards. Losing control of the reins, he tumbled off the side of the horse and hit the ground hard. The second bullet came shortly thereafter. A perfect head shot. Saul’s journey abruptly ended.
Stephen walked up and used his foot to push Saul over. He took a good look at his face. “Shit,” he said sourly. “It’s Saul.” He spit next to Saul’s head. “That sucks.”
Saul was part of a group that passed through a week earlier warning of Plaguers. The group left a vial of antidote, but no one bothered to use it. They didn’t believe in the new infection. Unfortunately for them, it started taking root a few days after Saul's group left.
The man from the car approached from down the road. “You got him good!” he yelled loudly.
“Yeah, I know, but it was Saul!” Stephen yelled back.
“I know. I saw him pass!”
“What the fuck, Marty? You knew and you told me to shoot him?”
“You needed the practice!” Marty stated with a chuckle as he walked up.
Stephen cracked a smile. “Asshole. It’s not like you’re some perfect shot.”
Holding a rifle by his side, Marty raised it a few inches and put two more slugs into Saul’s body at point blank range. Saul’s body briefly jumped from the impact.
“There. That was a perfect shot.”
Not to be outdone, Stephen lifted the sniper rifle and put a bullet through Saul’s left eye. “Two can play that game, moron.”
“Yeah, well let’s see how you do with a knife!” Marty pulled out a large hunting knife and bent down by the body.
“No, you don’t!” yelled Stephen. “He’s my kill! I get first dibs!”
The men exchanged barbs for a few minutes before Marty backed off.
“Fine! Next time I’m sniper.”
Stephen went to work with his own knife, carving around the skull. He peeled the hair back and removed Saul’s scalp. He then pulled out a boning knife and sawed through the skull. “I get the brains,” he said as he peered up at Marty with a grin. "I love brains."
“Fine with me. Probably got bullet fragments in ‘em now, ya idiot. I want thigh meat, anyway.”
Two days earlier, at the same spot in San Marcos, Texas, a party of seven trespassed down their road. On foot, the trespassers were heavily armed. As Marty watched, though, something felt different about them. He'd radioed Stephen and told him to lower his weapon. Within minutes they'd all been standing around laughing, getting to know each other.
Marty wasn’t sure why he'd spared them. He'd felt a connection. They were now part of their group. Maybe it the same look in the eyes…
CHAPTER TEN
Yvette agreed to watch the boys for an hour. It gave Jade a chance to get in some much-needed exercise. At the training center, she bobbed around a heavy bag, peppering it with jabs before throwing a few strong combinations. She flicked her right leg high at the bag, smacking it at head
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