I looked at the faces gathering around us. People were coming down from the hill. People were popping out of their assigned holes. They looked like decent people. Good people. I don't do well with people like that. I don't want to. I could lead them. Just looking at them as they tried not to stare at me told me that. I was "The Man." I dispensed death and grinned doing it. They would fear me. They wouldn't like me but they would try. Then I shoot a few of them and they would turn on me. Max knew how to lead because that was what he was born to do. He liked it. He fed on their energy and shined it back on them. Me? I killed bad people and didn't go to anywhere near as many meetings as he did. I was okay with it.
I told Zane quietly "Search and strip them. Throw it all in that truck. We're out of here in five minutes if not sooner."
I let him deal with that because I had another problem. I held one of the Rugers up so I could flip the gate and clear the empties. Normally I would of scavenged them. Now was not the time. Impressions are everything and scurrying are after spent shell cases did not project the right image. I just hoped I wouldn't step on one, have it roll and I end up falling on my ass.
Especially as I wasn't looking at what I was doing. I was staring at the man who was yelling at me.
"Hey Buddy! Call your fucking dogs off!"
Dogs gotta eat too! It's great to have you back. I'm glad Gardener isn't going to encumber himself with a mini-horde. But a truck filled with dogs? That's rolling in style.
ReplyDeleteD^2,
ReplyDeleteHey! Welcome back. I think this is going to be a Woof story.
WOOF WOOF WOOF !
ReplyDeletesaid Iam Nottadog
Bohica here,
ReplyDeleteWelcome back to the original story, you've set the hook well.
Thanks