Metal clanged and two Dogs pushed open the creaky gate.
Wary, I kept an eye on Doyle as he stopped in front of Tyler. The older man looked harmless enough, though I knew to trust my gut. And my gut was screaming at me to shoot him already, grab Clutch, and get the hell out of there.
I’d seen enough. We needed to get as far from these guys as we could and fast.
“Sorry about the confusion, Captain,” Doyle said. “My boys simply tend to get a bit energetic in protecting their families.”
“Bullshit, Sergeant Doyle,” Tyler snapped. “You need to get your minutemen in line.”
Doyle smirked, and then shrugged. “Guess you’re just going to have to eat that bullshit, Masden. I report to Lendt, not you. You can’t touch me, not as long as my little militia is handling your zed problem. You know it, and I know it.”
I watched Tyler tense as he seethed with anger. “Lendt’s given you leniency, true, and I trust his judgment. But he also trusts my judgment. And after the stories I’ve been hearing from several survivors—including the ones with me today—I’m not convinced your militia should remain separate from Camp Fox, let alone continue to receive supplies.”
Doyle narrowed his eyes at Tyler but said nothing before moving around Tyler to lean on Clutch’s door.
Clutch was clearly tense but he pulled his rifle back inside the window and rested it on his lap. I readjusted mine so that I could take out Doyle in a split second if I had to.
The older man looked me over. His gaze narrowed and his lips turned downward. When Tyler slammed the front door shut, Doyle returned his focus to Clutch. I knew he’d already made his mind up about me: he didn’t like me, plain and simple.
My lip curled in return. Feeling’s mutual, bud.
“We need to talk,” Clutch stated.
“We’ll talk,” Doyle said, giving Clutch a wide smile. “But first, let’s get you folks inside where it’s safe. Damn zeds are starting to come out of the woodwork.” He swaggered back through the now-open gate.
An ominous feeling grew heavy in my gut as our Humvee passed through the high gate and several Dogs closed in around us. “Well, we’re in,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “And I’m ready to leave.”
Clutch watched me for a moment and then gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
I cradled my rifle as I kept an eye on the Dogs. The man Clutch had shot held his injured hand to his chest as he disappeared inside the first building. Except for one, the remaining men warily watched Clutch like he’d do the same to them. The only guard who didn’t seem concerned was the one too busy leering at me.
I’d seen him once before, when he’d called dibs on me at the greenhouse. I had wanted to shoot him then, too.
When we made eye contact, the weasel wagged his tongue and blew me a kiss. I would’ve flipped him the bird if I wasn’t holding my rifle so tightly. Instead, I turned away to find Clutch watching me, his jaw tight. “Don’t leave my side,” he said gruffly.
I swallowed a nervous chuckle. Like I’d even want to. “I just want to get back to the farm as fast as possible.”
Tyler turned in his seat. “No matter what happens, there’s not to be one more shot fired here, understood? This situation is a tinderbox that’s been getting hotter for some time.”
“Unless we’re forced to protect ourselves, you mean,” I corrected. “Where’d Doyle get these guys? Prison?”
Tyler’s lips pursed. “Stick with me, and everything will be okay. Doyle knows better than to fuck with Camp Fox. Still, I’m surprised none of them got trigger-happy when Clutch shot one of their friends. We’re damned lucky to be alive,” Tyler replied.
“That shit-for-brains was less than a second away from opening fire on us,” Clutch grated out.
“How do you know that for sure, Sarge?” Tyler asked.
Clutch inhaled and then narrowed his gaze on Tyler. “I’ve seen that look before, plenty of times. I know.”