I never ask anymore.
My knife is securely fastened to my belt, and I hold my rifle with both hands, my right nearest the trigger. Gabe makes sure I have plenty of extra ammo and I stuff the bullets into an easy-access, side pocket of my backpack. He also hands me a duffel bag and I pull the strap over my head and let it hang across my back over the backpack.
“We splitting up this time?” Mendez asks as he checks his gun’s ammo.
Gabe shakes his head. “This time we’re staying close together. Skip and I have the longer blades, so we’ll walk in front.” He nods at me. “The rest of you can follow behind and be ready for my orders.” His eyes look sharply at Paxton. “If that’s all right with you,” he adds.
Paxton holds up a hand and shakes his head. “I’m following your orders out here,” he says with a grin.
I walk to the other side of the SUV and survey the town ahead of us. It is a tiny place with probably about five buildings. There is a Post Office on the other end of the street directly across from City Hall, which seems like a joke. The buildings are squat and empty-looking, though that’s how all greyskin-infested buildings look until they notice someone has come near.
“Now,” Gabe says, “I want us to clear all of the buildings, but our main target is the one on the far left.”
I narrow my eyes, trying to see the words on the window front. It’s the sheriff’s office. “Weapons?” I ask.
Gabe nods. “I want to get there first, so if we don’t get a chance to clear out the other buildings at least we’ll have some extra guns.”
“Unless someone got here before us, right?” I ask.
Gabe looks at me and shrugs. “Let’s go,” he says.
Skip and Gabe begin walking down the street toward the sheriff’s office while Paxton, Mendez, and I follow a few paces behind. All of us keep our eyes peeled for any sign of movement. Though we clutch tightly to our guns, we will only use them if necessary. A lone greyskin? Someone distracts it while someone else drives a knife into its brain. Two greyskins? Same story. Three or more? It might be time to use the guns.
I look at the first building to our left and try to focus on the sounds within. The shuffling of feet. Something light, maybe paper, falls to the ground. Something moves about quietly. My heightened hearing ability can’t always make out the exact type of creature lurking in the shadows, but a greyskin has a distinct sound. It is clumsy, and when it gets excited, it begins to gurgle and almost growl like a phlegmy cat hissing at a stranger — only it’s not out of fear, but hunger.
The way the feet move, I can tell its a greyskin. The footsteps are heavy, so it’s not an animal, and it’s not so self aware that it’s careful. We pass the building, and the creature doesn’t seem to notice us through the windows.
I look at the Post Office and hear one or two of them shuffling around. Then, the sheriff’s office. Again, I can barely hear any movement at all, but there is definitely something in there. My grip tightens on my gun as we move forward, now only a hundred feet away. I catch Paxton staring at me, his eyebrows furrowed. It looks as though he can tell that I have a determined focus — unnatural perhaps. I want to tell him that he should stop staring at me and get on with his own determined focus, but I hold my tongue and keep my eyes forward.
Once at the sheriff’s office, Gabe crouches in front of the front door and feels the handle. It’s not locked, so all we have to do is go in and take it over. There will surely be keys to a gun closet or something in there. Gabe looks at each of us and we nod to him, letting him know we are ready, though I’m not so sure that I am. It’s been too long since I’ve killed a greyskin. I’m not sure I’ve still got my edge. Living in the comfort of Crestwood could do that to a person, I’m sure.
Gabe tugs on the door handle too loudly. I wince as the sound of creaking hinges echoes through the hallways of the sheriff’s office. I immediately hear a few greyskins come out of a stupor as they begin moving toward the entrance. They are out of sight and earshot for the others but I can hear them clearly. Their throaty moans escape their mouths as they stumble forward. Gabe and Skip stay low as they tiptoe down the hallway. The greyskins are coming closer. Gabe pulls out a knife and gets it ready for whatever might be coming around the corner. What he doesn’t know is that it will be more than one. Maybe four? Five?
“Gabe,” I whisper.
He holds up a hand to me, able to hear at least one of them now.
“Gabe,” I repeat.
He turns his head to me, his face turning red. “What?” he says harshly.
“There’s more than one. Maybe five,” I say.
“How do you know?”
I don’t have time to answer as the first of them appears around the corner and Gabe’s back is turned. Skip is ready, however, and he jabs his knife up under the greyskin’s chin, piercing its brain. Darkened blood spurts out as it falls to the ground harmlessly. Gabe jets out into the open beyond the corner and is immediately met by two more greyskins. He’s able to stab the first one through the head, but the second one lands on top of him, doing it’s best to take a bite from his forearm.
He can’t help but yell out. Skip would help him but there are two more greyskins closing in on him. A knife is useless to us in here. I lift up my gun and take aim at the greyskin on top of Gabe. With a pull of the trigger, it’s brains splatter against the wall across from him. He throws the body off and jumps to one that’s on top of Skip. Paxton lets off a round and so does Mendez, but neither of the greyskins go down.
Finally, Skip is able to stab one of them through the temple but not before the other one takes a deep bite into his shoulder. He lets out a bellowing scream as his own blood pours down his side. Gabe reaches out and stabs the greyskin in the head but it is too late. With five greyskins on the floor around us, Skip bleeds heavily, destined to become one himself.
Gabe spits on the ground and lets out a curse as Skip whimpers.
“I’m dead,” Skip says over and over. “I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead.”
“We need to get what we came for and get out of here,” Mendez says “Others will have heard the shots.”
Paxton remains nervously silent as if he’s waiting for Gabe to give the orders.
My ears perk at the sound of more greyskins shuffling through the sheriff’s office. I step past all of them, trying to let the cries of Skip fall to the background, but when I walk around the corner, I don’t need super hearing to know that at least ten more greyskins are coming straight for us.