tip our hand. They’ll be looking for us.”
“I ain’t hitting that place while the women are still there.”
Callum nodded. “Alright. It shouldn’t be too hard to get the women out. After all, those guards hardly seem like they’re sharp.”
La Roux stifled a laugh. “It’s a full moon for the next few nights, so we should at least have a little light to work with. Of course, it also means we’ll be easier to see, but you can’t have everything.”
Callum pulled on a pair of leather gloves and peered over the rock again. “We could leave ‘em with a little present as we leave.”
“Like what?”
“While you lead the women out of the camp, I’ll let loose some of the undead. It should cause enough confusion to cover our tracks.”
“Sounds good to me.”
* * *
With the moon at the zenith of its arc over the Earth, the two Rangers positioned themselves either side of the barn holding the women. Callum drew his knife and let out a noise resembling an owl. A second later, a hoot from the opposite side of the barn indicated it was time to move. Callum leaped into action. Soundlessly, he darted to the front of the barn. La Roux was already there, and had made short work of his guard. The man assigned to Callum pointed his gun at the big Cajun, but Callum took him before he could fire. With a hand covering the guard’s mouth, Callum slit the man’s throat and lowered him to the dirt. La Roux moved to the barn’s large doors, and found them locked with a piece of wood used as a crossbar. He lifted the wood from its metal restraints and laid it on the ground. As quietly as he could, La Roux pulled open the doors and peered inside.
Fifteen pairs of eyes stared back at him, but not one of the women made a sound. “We’re here to help,” he whispered, “Tilly sent us.”
On hearing the name, ‘Tilly’, the women in the barn began to whisper among themselves.
“Keep the noise down,” La Roux whispered as he peered over his shoulder. “We have to go.”
A woman who looked remarkably like Tilly stepped forward. “She be my sister, Tilly I mean. Is she safe?”
La Roux nodded. “Yes, now come on.”
The woman turned back into the darkened barn and gestured for her fellow prisoners to move. La Roux looked toward Callum and nodded. The young Ranger needed no further instruction. Instead, he simply bolted off toward the closest pen housing the Lingerers.
As Callum drew closer to the Lingerer’s pen, he could hear their groaning. Clearly, the smell of the blood from the two men he and La Roux had just killed excited them. Several started to throw themselves at gates that looked far to flimsy to hold them back. He peered through the slatted walls of the enclosure and saw it contained around thirty undead, all of whom were now getting more and more agitated.
He looked around, but saw no one guarding the pen. If he released the creatures now, they would more than likely head off in search of not only the blood, but the women too. He had to wait a little longer; otherwise, he could end up killing those he was trying to save. He crouched and kept an eye on his surroundings. Several minutes passed, and now the noise from the undead had grown too loud to ignore. It was time to release them.
He got to his feet and headed for the pen’s gate.
“Hey! Who the hell are you!”
Callum turned to see a man nearly as big as La Roux charging straight for him. Callum’s hand went to his tomahawk, but before he could draw it from its holster, the man had already slammed him into the pen’s gate. Callum fought as the giant’s hand wrapped around his throat and his feet left the dirt. He lashed out at the man’s face with his fists, but his blows were ineffectual against the oaf’s thick skull. Callum could now feel hands pawing at him from behind. The undead were trying to grab him through the slats of the gate.
His left hand once more went in search of his tomahawk, and this time he managed to
“I ain’t hitting that place while the women are still there.”
Callum nodded. “Alright. It shouldn’t be too hard to get the women out. After all, those guards hardly seem like they’re sharp.”
La Roux stifled a laugh. “It’s a full moon for the next few nights, so we should at least have a little light to work with. Of course, it also means we’ll be easier to see, but you can’t have everything.”
Callum pulled on a pair of leather gloves and peered over the rock again. “We could leave ‘em with a little present as we leave.”
“Like what?”
“While you lead the women out of the camp, I’ll let loose some of the undead. It should cause enough confusion to cover our tracks.”
“Sounds good to me.”
* * *
With the moon at the zenith of its arc over the Earth, the two Rangers positioned themselves either side of the barn holding the women. Callum drew his knife and let out a noise resembling an owl. A second later, a hoot from the opposite side of the barn indicated it was time to move. Callum leaped into action. Soundlessly, he darted to the front of the barn. La Roux was already there, and had made short work of his guard. The man assigned to Callum pointed his gun at the big Cajun, but Callum took him before he could fire. With a hand covering the guard’s mouth, Callum slit the man’s throat and lowered him to the dirt. La Roux moved to the barn’s large doors, and found them locked with a piece of wood used as a crossbar. He lifted the wood from its metal restraints and laid it on the ground. As quietly as he could, La Roux pulled open the doors and peered inside.
Fifteen pairs of eyes stared back at him, but not one of the women made a sound. “We’re here to help,” he whispered, “Tilly sent us.”
On hearing the name, ‘Tilly’, the women in the barn began to whisper among themselves.
“Keep the noise down,” La Roux whispered as he peered over his shoulder. “We have to go.”
A woman who looked remarkably like Tilly stepped forward. “She be my sister, Tilly I mean. Is she safe?”
La Roux nodded. “Yes, now come on.”
The woman turned back into the darkened barn and gestured for her fellow prisoners to move. La Roux looked toward Callum and nodded. The young Ranger needed no further instruction. Instead, he simply bolted off toward the closest pen housing the Lingerers.
As Callum drew closer to the Lingerer’s pen, he could hear their groaning. Clearly, the smell of the blood from the two men he and La Roux had just killed excited them. Several started to throw themselves at gates that looked far to flimsy to hold them back. He peered through the slatted walls of the enclosure and saw it contained around thirty undead, all of whom were now getting more and more agitated.
He looked around, but saw no one guarding the pen. If he released the creatures now, they would more than likely head off in search of not only the blood, but the women too. He had to wait a little longer; otherwise, he could end up killing those he was trying to save. He crouched and kept an eye on his surroundings. Several minutes passed, and now the noise from the undead had grown too loud to ignore. It was time to release them.
He got to his feet and headed for the pen’s gate.
“Hey! Who the hell are you!”
Callum turned to see a man nearly as big as La Roux charging straight for him. Callum’s hand went to his tomahawk, but before he could draw it from its holster, the man had already slammed him into the pen’s gate. Callum fought as the giant’s hand wrapped around his throat and his feet left the dirt. He lashed out at the man’s face with his fists, but his blows were ineffectual against the oaf’s thick skull. Callum could now feel hands pawing at him from behind. The undead were trying to grab him through the slats of the gate.
His left hand once more went in search of his tomahawk, and this time he managed to
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