100-Days-in-Deadland(72)

But the world had changed.

I felt even edgier without the weight of my gear and weapons. Being defenseless in the middle of zed country, with Clutch undergoing who knows what back at Doyle’s camp, unnerved me.

I sighed. “You didn’t need to tie me up. I’m not a danger to you.”

Tyler turned from the window to me, looking none too pleased. “You killed an unarmed man today.”

If he only knew the facts. “And I don’t regret it.”

Yes, I’d shot that criminal knowing that shit would hit the fan as a result. The man was dead, anyway. I’d simply fired before Clutch did. He was going to pull the trigger. I’d seen it in his eyes, just like he’d seen it in the eyes of the Dog he shot back at Doyle’s gate. So, I killed the man to keep Clutch safe. I just hadn’t figured that Clutch would be a victim in the ensuing cluster f*ck. When I saw him again—and I promised myself I would—I was going to wring his freaking neck for playing hero.

Nick shot me a tender glance before returning his focus to driving, and I could feel eyes on my back from Griz and Tack behind me as well. None of them had seen what the Dogs had done to that poor girl. Still, being this close to the militia camp, they must’ve seen things or heard stories when it came to Doyle and his cronies.

“You know Doyle,” I said. “He never would’ve let you take one of his Dogs into custody to stand trial. Face it, the only thing that kept that rapist from getting off free was my bullet.”

Tyler narrowed his gaze. “How can you be so cavalier about taking a man’s life?”

“You didn’t see what they did,” I replied quietly, remembering her broken body and hollow eyes.

He was quiet for a moment. “In case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t many of us left. We have to keep faith in justice. We’ll never make it if we each take the law into our own hands.”

I chortled. “We’ll never make it if we don’t take the law into our own hands.” It was futile trying to convince Tyler that the world was no longer wrapped with a comforting blanket of rules and traditions. We could no longer afford the luxury of hiding accountability beneath layers of red tape. Doyle wouldn’t follow the rules. Neither could we. In a matter of days, we’d toppled from thinking we were wolves to realizing that we were only rabbits.

I broke eye contact to look out the window. We were approaching tall chain-link fences, topped with razor wire, surrounding what looked to be at least ten acres of a National Guard base.

Camp Fox.

Too wide open for a solid defense. Too many areas for zeds to break through.

A white wind turbine rotated smoothly, towering above the base. My jaw dropped. “You have power?”

Tyler nodded. “Camp Fox has had its own wind energy for over five years now.”

“Showers?”

His lips curved. “Yes, we even have hot water.” I rested my head on the seat and fantasized about standing under a steamy shower as we approached the gate. Unfortunately, I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of fantasies. Not with Clutch’s—and my—current situation.

Several Humvees and armored vehicles rested on the other side of the tall fence. Camp Fox certainly wasn’t lacking firepower, though Clutch and I had watched on television while cities like D.C. and L.A. fell, despite having massive military power on their streets.

Two soldiers stood while a third stepped inside a guard’s box and opened the gate. They saluted Tyler as we passed through the gate, and he saluted in return. It was then I realized that I might never see the farm again.

“Will Smitty stay with Jase and Eddy tonight?” I asked, knowing that Jase had to be getting worried before long.

“I’m having the boys brought here tonight,” Tyler replied. “I’ll see that you connect with Jase tomorrow morning. I thought it would be safer than leaving him at the farm.”

“I suppose so,” I murmured, though I wasn’t exactly confident in Camp Fox’s strength, not after seeing the way Doyle had scoffed at Tyler.

Beyond the gate stood several small pens holding livestock. A lone bull with wide horns stood in a closed-off area across the road. No doubt this setup was to protect the animals from zeds, but to me, it was like setting out bait. Once zeds depleted the local population, they’d come in hordes to Camp Fox in search for food.

A single zed was easy to kill. They were dumb, slow things. Easy to outthink and outmaneuver. But a herd never tired. Tall fences and bullets couldn’t protect these people. They were rounded up for an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord. I felt a hundred times safer at the farm, where we were ready to bug out at the first sign of herds.