Once Marco came to terms with reality, Clutch asked him several questions while I sat and stared at the fires. The HEMTT continued to smoke, but no more flames licked out from the vehicle. I could only imagine the smell of so many dead inside. I tried not to think about any of the bodies belonging to someone I cared about. There’d be too much time for thinking later.
New Eden was a new super-city in Colorado formed by the military at Cheyenne Mountain. Dozens of squadrons just like Marco’s had been sent out with the sole mission to save any survivors they could after the herds passed through. On their mission, they’d run across a feudalistic, ruthless group called the Black Sheep that was quickly spreading across the Midwest. The bandits who’d taken us hostage were from that group, and Marco showed us the mark on one of the bandit’s body: a brand of a ram’s head with curled horns.
“At least we got all these guys,” Marco said. “If any got back to their captain, they’d likely come back at us with a vengeance.”
I shook my head. “No. Their leader got away.”
Marco’s face fell before fear widened his eyes. “He’ll bring back reinforcements.”
Clutch climbed to his feet. “We’ll be out of here long before then. But we should hurry and get wrapped up here, just in case.”
I looked up to see Clutch holding a hand out to me. I took it and he pulled me up and into an embrace. Strangely, I never cried, even knowing that I’d never see Jase again, or anyone from Camp Fox, again. It broke my heart, but my brain refused to process anything. It felt like I was on autopilot, and the circuit breaker to my emotions had been turned off, and I was thankful for that small mercy.
Later, as I walked around and inventoried the wreckage, Clutch and Marco collected dog tags and carried the dead of those we knew as close to the burning store as we could in hopes the fire would take care of them before the zeds found them. When we came to Tyler’s body, neither Clutch nor I could move. For the longest time, I simply stared at Tyler’s limp form. I noticed Clutch did the same. His lips quivered, then he sobered and we carried Tyler away from the burning building and laid him under a tree. Clutch walked back to a Humvee and returned with a shovel. As he started digging a hole, I also grabbed a shovel and helped.
The ground was soft, but it still took a while to dig a shallow grave. Clutch grabbed Tyler’s shoulders and I grabbed his legs and we lowered him as gently as possible. We stared down at Tyler’s peaceful, though bloodied, features.
“Lord,” Clutch said. “Bless this soldier who gave his life in the service of others. Watch over his grave so that he finds peace.”
“Amen,” I said with him. It was the first time I’d heard Clutch pray.
“Sorry for your loss,” Marco said.
Startled, I turned around, not realizing he was standing there. I swallowed, unable to find any words. It wasn’t that I was hollow inside. Anger, terror, despair, grief, misery, it was all there but isolated in a safe room. I could feel the emotions boiling like a volcano, but there was a heavy, cold stone covering the top of the volcano, letting nothing escape. It was like my body and spirit had split and were fighting to come back together.
My body went through the motions. We buried Tyler and went back to work pulling together anything salvageable. Every vehicle had taken hits, but some were still in decent shape, so it was just a matter of siphoning gas, and tossing weapons, ammo, and supplies in a pile to sort out what could still be used.
As I carried a gas can from our old HEMTT, a dog barked. The sound was deep, hair-raising, and familiar. I turned to see a Great Dane bound out from the woods, followed by someone I’d never expected to see again. I set the can down and stared. “Jase?”
At the sound of his name, he jerked and then saw me. His eyes widened. He took a step from Hali. He started to jog and then run. “Cash!”
He picked me off the ground and twirled me around.