but did knock them back. Orpheus finished them off with three more headshots. "Yeah, you're hardcore," Orpheus said. He handed the rifle back to a grinning Tino and went down the ladder.
"Not my responsibility," he reiterated to Ralston. "He gets himself killed, that's too bad."
"I think you just scared him straight. Now how about a tour?"
O
Orpheus gave Colonel Ralston the dime tour, and was relieved when he said it was time for him to go. He assumed that he'd see less of Ralston the longer the operation went on. There were only so many photo ops available, and it's not like he could add anything strategy-wise. As he watched the helicopter disappear into the distance, he took note of the setting sun and checked his watch. He motioned to Fish and pointed to his watch.
Fish understood and yelled, "Quittin' time, kids! Finish what you're doing and get inside."
Most of the personnel filed in immediately. Only a few lagged behind because they were moving the vehicles yet again, this time to the front of the school where they were easily accessible. Orpheus was the last inside, and he secured the door.
He saw Tim directing the drivers to the auditorium. Once they were gone, Tim said, "Counting them, you, and me, we're all accounted for. Ethan's doing another head count in the room."
"Good work." Orpheus followed Tim into the auditorium. He heard the familiar din of dozens of conversations, and was pleased that they all dropped shortly after he walked in. The only sound was the click-click of Thompson's camera. He'd apparently gotten over his fear once he had a familiar object in his hands. Ethan had finished roll call, and gave his father a thumbs-up.
Orpheus stood at the podium, a hand resting on each side. "I want to start off by congratulating all of you. Great job today, all things considered. We'll begin and end every day in here, for a briefing. We will be putting together a rotating schedule for laundry, latrine, and guard duty. If you have any other skills that may come in handy, just let me or one of my lieutenants know. That's it for today. Get some food, get some rest. Unfortunately, tonight it's going to be MREs and gym mats. No one goes off by themselves. Understood? Here at 0800, don't be late. Dismissed."
He watched the soldiers file out, and then walked out with his lieutenants. "Does anybody have anything?"
Tim said, "Comms are up. Phones, internet, WiFi."
"Good. Anything else?"
No one did.
"Then bye-bye. You're on free time."
Orpheus peeled off, and the others continued on to the gym. If they were as tired as he was, they weren't showing any signs of it. He entered his office, took off his blouse and boots, and collapsed on the couch. His right hand dropped to the side and rested on his other bag. The back of his hand hit the corner of a box. He knew everything that was supposed to be in that bag, and that wasn't one of them. He sat upright and pulled it out. Even under the wrapping paper, he could tell it was a shoe box. Jackie must have slipped it in his bag on the pier. There was no card, so he pulled the ribbon and took off the top.
He moved aside the tissue paper and smiled when he saw what it was covering.
A black tomahawk. Black.
Jeez, the memory on that woman.
He remembered a conversation that he'd had with his wife at least ten years prior. They'd been watching an action movie, and the protagonist had just thrown a tomahawk end over end until it buried itself in the bad guy's skull. He'd remarked how awesome a tomahawk would be when the zombies came.
It had been nothing but a joke then.
He turned it over in his hands, admiring it. It was made of high carbon steel from the feel. He ran his finger along the curved front blade. It was sharp. If he applied any more pressure, he'd be looking for a bandage. Opposite the chopping blade was a nasty spike, perfect for scrambling a zombie's brains. Between the two was a laser engraving of a lyre, representative of his namesake in Greek
"Not my responsibility," he reiterated to Ralston. "He gets himself killed, that's too bad."
"I think you just scared him straight. Now how about a tour?"
O
Orpheus gave Colonel Ralston the dime tour, and was relieved when he said it was time for him to go. He assumed that he'd see less of Ralston the longer the operation went on. There were only so many photo ops available, and it's not like he could add anything strategy-wise. As he watched the helicopter disappear into the distance, he took note of the setting sun and checked his watch. He motioned to Fish and pointed to his watch.
Fish understood and yelled, "Quittin' time, kids! Finish what you're doing and get inside."
Most of the personnel filed in immediately. Only a few lagged behind because they were moving the vehicles yet again, this time to the front of the school where they were easily accessible. Orpheus was the last inside, and he secured the door.
He saw Tim directing the drivers to the auditorium. Once they were gone, Tim said, "Counting them, you, and me, we're all accounted for. Ethan's doing another head count in the room."
"Good work." Orpheus followed Tim into the auditorium. He heard the familiar din of dozens of conversations, and was pleased that they all dropped shortly after he walked in. The only sound was the click-click of Thompson's camera. He'd apparently gotten over his fear once he had a familiar object in his hands. Ethan had finished roll call, and gave his father a thumbs-up.
Orpheus stood at the podium, a hand resting on each side. "I want to start off by congratulating all of you. Great job today, all things considered. We'll begin and end every day in here, for a briefing. We will be putting together a rotating schedule for laundry, latrine, and guard duty. If you have any other skills that may come in handy, just let me or one of my lieutenants know. That's it for today. Get some food, get some rest. Unfortunately, tonight it's going to be MREs and gym mats. No one goes off by themselves. Understood? Here at 0800, don't be late. Dismissed."
He watched the soldiers file out, and then walked out with his lieutenants. "Does anybody have anything?"
Tim said, "Comms are up. Phones, internet, WiFi."
"Good. Anything else?"
No one did.
"Then bye-bye. You're on free time."
Orpheus peeled off, and the others continued on to the gym. If they were as tired as he was, they weren't showing any signs of it. He entered his office, took off his blouse and boots, and collapsed on the couch. His right hand dropped to the side and rested on his other bag. The back of his hand hit the corner of a box. He knew everything that was supposed to be in that bag, and that wasn't one of them. He sat upright and pulled it out. Even under the wrapping paper, he could tell it was a shoe box. Jackie must have slipped it in his bag on the pier. There was no card, so he pulled the ribbon and took off the top.
He moved aside the tissue paper and smiled when he saw what it was covering.
A black tomahawk. Black.
Jeez, the memory on that woman.
He remembered a conversation that he'd had with his wife at least ten years prior. They'd been watching an action movie, and the protagonist had just thrown a tomahawk end over end until it buried itself in the bad guy's skull. He'd remarked how awesome a tomahawk would be when the zombies came.
It had been nothing but a joke then.
He turned it over in his hands, admiring it. It was made of high carbon steel from the feel. He ran his finger along the curved front blade. It was sharp. If he applied any more pressure, he'd be looking for a bandage. Opposite the chopping blade was a nasty spike, perfect for scrambling a zombie's brains. Between the two was a laser engraving of a lyre, representative of his namesake in Greek
Similar Books
