A Shepherd's Calling (What Comes After Book 2) (18 page)

“
Right behind you.” Just after this, Nadeau slid into view, moving behind his still readied carbine.

Davis and the rest reached the trucks, then set-up a defensive perimeter. Chris leaned his .30-06 against the truck and began checking the wounded man's injuries. Looking first at Doughty's forearm, where skin was punctured to the bone in several places, it seemed the damage had been done by a machine, not the mouth of a man-sized creature. Blood oozed from the great rend, running in sloppy, uneven streams away from torn, flapping flesh. It was hideous.

“
That's quite a bite,” the old teacher said. “Someone have a first-aid kit?”

Without looking, Davis took a pouch from his L.B.E., tossed it to the ground near Chris. In his light drawl, he asked jokingly, “You lose yours, old timer? Maybe forgot where you put it?”

“
Mine doesn't have peroxide in it. Lucky for you, I haven't forgotten how to shoot.”

Major Vargas came around the front of the truck. Like Nadeau, he didn't stop, instead continuing further on. The officer did ask a question on his way by: “How is he?”

“
I'm fine, sir.” Doughty groaned.

Chris doused the wound with peroxide and swabbed it clear, made it ready for a field dressing. Speaking to the officer, he said, “It's more than an inconvenience, but he'll make it. I think.” This last was offered to Doughty with a wink. “Count your lucky stars that a bite, even one this bad, won't Turn you.”

“
Should be on the move once we've treated him.” Nadeau called to Vargas.

“
On that we agree,” the Major called back.

While Tom listened to this conversation, his eyes rested on Ben. The boy stood close to Toby, looking at a body only a few yards away. Tom rested his hand on Ben's shoulder and the boy looked up at him, confusion clear on his face.

In a somber voice, the child asked a question that caused Tom's soul to stir with both approval and regret. “They're dead, aren't they?”

Tom offered the boy a sad smile. He imagined what was going through Ben's head:
Watching the beast race across open ground, moving and full of purpose, an awe-inspiring and terrible beauty... then suddenly throw itself into the grass and lay still. It was a transition so powerful, so elemental, so simple even a child could understand. It's fortunate he understands what he saw. It's even more important that he seems to accept it. That makes it no easier to watch another child come to terms with how brutal life is, no matter how necessary. Was I ever that innocent?

Toby waited until the boy appeared to be absorbed by the body again. “He ain't talkin' 'bout the Muppets. He's talkin' 'bout his people. He ain't stupid.”

Tom's shoulders tightened. For whatever reason, he had thought that by shielding the boy from the sight, Ben wouldn't put two and two together. He wasn't surprised to find this theory untrue, but now his disappointment at being unable to help was compounded by frustration at failing to help. Perhaps he thought that because he had seen his own parents die, the impact in losing family would be diminished by not witnessing the act or seeing evidence of it. That not seeing it somehow made it not happen.

Clearly, I was wrong
, he thought.

Tom knew it would take Chris a few minutes to check and dress Doughty's leg. The Shepherd also wanted to give himself and Ben some time and space from each other, so he left to check the depression that Doughty had crawled out of.

Careful to give a wide berth to the Turned he knew Ben to be staring at, Tom came to the pit. He noticed there were more than three bodies in it. He counted five in total; the three he had slain and two with their throats cut and necks rent. Apparently, Doughty had no intention of going quietly. Further examination of the bodies revealed that one with its throat ripped open had a cross on its chest. This brand did not appear full healed, as the edges of the burn were soft and somewhat sticky looking. He also retrieved Doughty's field pack and carbine. On his way back to the vehicles, he saw sun glint off something shining in the wet morning light. Stooping, he retrieved another casing from his own weapon and put the object in his pocket.

He arrived in time to see Doughty putting weight on his right foot, testing the wrap. After a couple of experimental leans, he nodded to Chris. “Good dressing. Thanks.”

When the military man saw Tom approaching with his carbine and pack, he seemed relieved. Ever the marine, he first reached for his carbine and held it a moment, checked the magazine, chamber and scope before slinging it across his chest. Reaching for his pack next, Doughty took hold of Tom's arm and offered a hearty squeeze.

“
Thank you,” Doughty said.

Vargas and Nadeau returned. The Major spoke with an authority born of urgency. “Alright, boys and girls: let's get resupplied and ready. Moving in five.” With that, he opened the driver's door of the truck they were gathered around and unlocked the other doors.

“
Where are we going, sir?” Turner sounded more alarmed than curious.

“
After our men. Where else would we be going?” The officer said this while moving to the rear of the vehicle and opening the cargo door.

Licking his lips, Turner looked from Doughty to Tom and then back to Vargas. “Sir, we have a wounded man and VIPs with high-priority return status. Our mission objective is providing those persons with an escort to Quebec. Shouldn't we at least see if the U.N. group we know to be operating in the area can offer assistance, or perhaps even perform the recovery? They might only be a mile or two away. One radio call could change everything.” Vargas remained quiet, continued to reload his magazines, put M.R.E.s and another first aid kit into his pack. “Sir, please-”

Nadeau rejoined the group, dragging two long branches behind him. It took Tom a moment to realize they weren't branches. They were too straight and black for that. A look at the rear of the truck confirmed it: they were antennae.

Walking past Turner, Nadeau gave the radio operator a look of disgust. “They're probably out of range of the field radio you're humping around. You need these to make that call, right?” He shook the antennae at Turner before loading them into the back of the opened vehicle, then began his own restocking.

While Turner gaped, Chris spoke quietly to the officer. “Forgive me, Major: no offense intended here. Looks like you're proceeding on foot. Did something happen to your spare spark plugs?”

“
We're using them.” Stepping aside, he made room for Davis to move in for provisions. “We stopped near Skowhegan to set up a series of R.O.P.s. Parked the trucks, concealed them and left for three days while we made the new installations and checked existing ones.” The Major shrugged. “Whoever was doing it didn't expect resistance and left in a hurry. Tools in hand, hoods open, they were already moving when we arrived. Eby and Davis jumped the gun, fired a couple rounds before I could tell them to stand down.” Pointing to the doors and hood, he continued. “That mark on the driver's window was from Eby. The marks near the hood were from the crowbars the thieves used to open the hood. They got the plugs, most of the belts and some of the other components.”

Chris furrowed his brow. “So what was Dettweiler calling your attention to?” He no sooner asked the question than had his answer. The old teacher seemed to notice several light scratches and scrapes alongside, or on top of, those marks the Major had indicated.

“
You see them now?” Vargas pointed to a couple on the bumper they stood beside, the wheel well of the closest tire. They were light, very faint.

Tom frowned. “Dettweiler has the other set of plugs, doesn't he?”

“
Correct, Mr. DuPuis. How did you determine that?”

“
He checked one of the trucks, Davis the other. So, even if we wanted leave now, we couldn't use the vehicles.”

“
Correct again. You don't strike me as the sort of man who leaves people behind. Not when you know you can aid in their recovery.”

Tom nodded. Regardless how wary he was of Vargas's charisma and subtle manipulation, there was too much truth in the officer's observation.

“
If you're planning on coming with us,” the Major gestured to the equipment in the truck, “feel free to take what you need; food, weapons, ammo, tools. If you're not coming, it won't hurt my feelings. This isn't your fight, they aren't your people. There's more than enough space in both vehicles to fit your party and P.F.C. Doughty while we take care of business.”

“
Thank you. I will be joining and I'll make the offer to my companions. I'll need a moment to confer with them.” Tom looked at Chris and indicated the two should move off. As they left the truck, they passed Turner, who was on his way to it.

Getting right to the point, Chris asked, “Who's staying with Ben?”

“
I thought Toby.” Tom could see the apprehension in the older man's eyes.

“
Is that a good idea? Leaving him with a 'reformed' cannibal?”

Tom pursed his lips. “The other option is you.”

Chris seemed taken aback. “I don't understand-”

Tom sighed before replying. “You and Janessa offer more to a rescue effort than Toby. You're both better shooters, both of you can do what you're told and you're both less likely to do something impulsive or short-sighted that gets someone hurt, or worse. While staying here, it's possible Toby does something stupid, but even if he were tempted to, Doughty would probably stop him.” He took a breath before continuing. “Ben has taken a liking to Toby. Given what the boy has been through in the last few weeks, he should have someone stay with him whose company he enjoys, not another stranger. He likes you, he likes Toby. I want you out there with us, but if you'd rather stay, that's fine.” Finished with the explanation, he realized something:
I'm colder than I used to be
.

Chris narrowed his eyes. “I'm still not sure about this, Tom. What you're doing is highly unusual.”

“
Then call it a test for each of them. For Janessa, an assessment of her tactical ability and how far she's willing to go for the safety of her allies, as well as her fellow man, in general. For Toby, about how well he follows directions and whether he truly possesses the ability to relate and sympathize with others instead of being a jackass. Take it however you like, but this is how it's happening, and that's all there is to it.”

Before they could continue, the two men heard Vargas's raised voice.

“
This is not up for debate, Corporal. We are equipping to locate and recover the rest of our squad. You will be a part of that effort.”

The Shepherd and the Hunter watched the confrontation. The officer stood, poised to act while he waited for his subordinate to comply. Turner approached the cargo area warily, as though expecting something to spring from where the Major was standing and attack.

Vargas leaned closer to Turner and spoke in a softer voice, full of menace. “Restock to a full combat load-out and take one extra M.R.E. You and I will provide security for our V.I.P.s. You have one minute.” The officer took a step back and spoke in the same loud, crisp manner he had used only seconds earlier. “Leave your suppressors affixed. Once we are away from the vehicles, consider all unknowns hostile. When in doubt, verify the target is not a known friendly. If the target is not a known friendly, terminate with extreme prejudice. Let's protect our guests, find our people and get the hell out of here.”

Toby took the news with a surprising amount of grace, though he was clearly unhappy with the decision. When he noticed how relieved Ben seemed at hearing that he would not need to go with the others, but that Toby would be the one to remain with him, Janessa's brother sang a different tune. Ben and Toby climbed into the truck with Doughty and lowered themselves in the seats, to lessen their exposure to the outside.

Chris had moved to the front, joining Nadeau on point. The two of them seemed hot on the trail of a group that had recently left the site where the vehicles were parked. While those two followed the tracks, Tom and Vargas had a brief discussion of their own.

“
What do you make of the Turned that were dressed?” Tom wondered if he sounded as ponderous as he felt.

“
I'm not sure what to make of them. It's been ten years or more since I've seen a ghoul dressed in anything other than blood and mud.” The officer seemed on much higher alert than he'd been previously.

“
Do you think they were Turned more recently? However unlikely?” Tom said this slowly, meaning to gauge the other man's reaction.

Vargas slowed a step. With his eyebrows raised, he resumed his pace. “That's an uncomfortable thought, Mr. DuPuis. As far as I'm aware, there have been no recorded instances of anyone 'Turning', as you put it, since about a year after Day Zero.”

“
Day Zero?”

“
Mm,” the Major nodded. “That's what doctors called the day things officially got out of hand. When hospitals were finally overwhelmed. When the National Guard deployed to help maintain order during the initial fallout of the conversion, infection, whatever you want to call it. It has other names; Armageddon, the Rapture, the Apocalypse. I believe it's also commonly referred to as 'the End'.”

Tom was about to ask more when he heard a snatch of a conversation ahead. Another few steps allowed him to see his old mentor and Nadeau through some bushes. The two trackers were apparently conferring with each other.