“What goddamn information do I have to withhold?” Lendt countered, then cracked his neck. “Folks think that just because I’m a colonel that I have some super-secret handshake. I know as much as anyone else. NORAD hasn’t made contact yet. Everything I hear is from other bases in the same boat as we are.”
“Have you thought about tracking down Hawkeye to set the record straight? Maybe offer to have him interview you on the air?” I asked. “It sounds like he’s trying to rile up the civvies against you.” Then it hit me. Hawkeye disliked Lendt, just like Doyle had. Yet, Lendt had done all right by me so far.
Lendt chuckled. “He’s definitely trying to rile folks up, but he’s a conspiracy theorist, and that’s what conspiracy theorists do. He’s one of those people who’s suspicious of anyone in authority. It doesn’t matter what I say, he’d find a way to make me out to be the asshole.”
Tyler set his tray on the table and saluted.
“At ease, Captain,” Lendt said.
Tyler took a seat and started cutting his spaghetti. “The two men are being kept in the brig tonight for both their and our safety, per your orders, sir.”
“They should be executed for treason,” Clutch said.
“Agreed,” I added quickly, especially when I discovered Weasel was the second Dog. I’d had the heebie-jeebies since.
“They will stand trial.” Lendt smirked. “Then they’ll be executed.”
Tyler frowned and put down his fork. “They surrendered. They deserve a fair trial. Doyle put a militia together as quickly as Camp Fox moved into action at the outbreak. A lot of good men joined up to help, and a lot of the people here now owe their lives to the militia. Now, we’re going to kill them for signing up to help and then going AWOL when they realized Doyle was no longer out for the greater good?”
“They’d had no problems obeying Doyle until now,” I countered. “Why the sudden change?”
Tyler held up a hand. “I’m just playing devil’s advocate, but maybe they did want out, but they couldn’t get out until now. Have you thought of that?”
“Have you thought that they may be here under Doyle’s direction?” Clutch asked, raising the same argument we’d been having ever since the Dogs contacted Lendt. “We should be thinking of what Doyle would want in this camp.”
Chapter XXVIII
Three days later
My aim was off. The machete slit the zed’s windpipe wide open instead of cleaving its skull. The near-severed head swayed, and my next swing scalped it, sending half of its brain and what had been long blonde hair to the ground.
Clutch had brought Jase and me back out to the apple orchard to win back the apple tree and for some much-needed close-up fighting. I didn’t realize how badly I’d needed the exercise. I had become so dependent on my rifle that I’d let myself get rusty in hand-to-hand combat.
I swung the machete I’d grabbed from Jase’s stash and took off the arm of the zed reaching for me. It hissed and reached out with the other. I swung again. This time, the machete snagged on bone and didn’t go all the way through. I kicked the zed back and yanked my weapon free. When it came at me again, I quit playing with it and finished it with a slanted blow down its face. Half of its head and face slid off, and I looked to see how many zeds remained.
Five.
Clutch demolished one.
Four.
I went for the ugliest zed next. Its nose had rotted off and only one ear remained. I made my way around it, careful to keep plenty of space around me. It had been one of Clutch’s first rules he’d taught me: never back yourself into a corner.
The zed followed my movements.
I let it come to me. Get ’em where I want ’em.
I raised the machete and brought it down in a straight line and shredded the zed from its chin down to its privates. “Oh, God.” I stepped back, trying not to breathe, but the stench caused bile to rise in my throat.
The zed’s organs tumbled out, jiggling with each step it took toward me. Clutch finished it off since I was too busy puking.
“Let’s not do that again,” Clutch advised, holding his arm over his nose.
“Yeah,” I said, now dealing with the foul aftertaste in my mouth.