The radio was silent as the others around the fire smiled at what must be happening in the camp.
“And a few others that we found picnicking in the woods. One may wish to say hello to you.”
“Wait, damn it, is Toad all right?” came the hurried voice of the master chief. Sarah got up and joined Jack. All the while Henri watched her as she moved. She saw this and then looked at the Frenchman and her eyes told him that she was appreciative of him, but that was all for the moment. Jack tossed Virginia the radio before she could react.
“Oh, your precious Toad is just fine, he saved all of our asses. Maybe you should worry about me, you gruff bastard!”
“Slim, what in the holy Sam hell are you doing out here? I told you to keep your skinny ass out of—”
Virginia turned down the volume on the radio and smiled at the others. “That will keep him occupied for a while.” She tossed back the radio to Jack and he caught it with a grin.
Collins held the radio and then looked at Carl. “You see, everyone missed you so much that I bet you can’t wait to get back and deal with your old buddy on a daily basis.”
“Don’t you dare tell me that,” Carl said as he turned on Collins. “Did everyone lose their damn minds while I was gone?” He paced around the fire. “The director would never allow that man anywhere near his precious collection,” he said in his final defensive denial.
“When you’re discussing and designing ways of going into hell,” he explained, looking around the horrific world, “you sometimes have to deal with the devil, Swabby, you know that. And without Jenks we would never have had the chance.”
“I am going to kick everyone’s asses on this deal, let me tell you.” They caught the final threat of the master chief as Jack turned the volume back up.
“She’s happy to hear your voice, too, Master Chief,” he said with mock seriousness.
“She’s all right? The others?”
They heard the belated concern in Jenks’s voice.
“Everyone’s still breathing.”
“Okay, I’ll deal with her when you people get your asses back here, and that little event better be soon.”
“Why is that?”
“Because those raptor things are increasing their attacks on the animal herds and they are starting to move far faster than we realized.”
Collins lowered the radio in wonderment as to their ability to catch a break.
“We’ll send all nonessential personnel back to you. We have to continue on until we find out what those things do with their spoils of war.”
“Roger. Get them back so I can bounce some ideas off of Slim’s head.”
“Watch out for those Russians, they’re loose out there and they’re scared. They may make a move for the doorway.”
“Let them try it if they want to get their asses sliced in two. The laser system is working just fine. But they or the power won’t hold up to a full-scale onslaught of those rock-and-spear-chuckin’ chicken bastards.”
“Roger, Collins out.”
“Jack, what was it you were saying about a nest, or lair?” Carl asked.
“It may be nothing, but the off chance that the raptors collect things of beauty, shiny objects, just like other birds, we’re hoping, or at least Doc Ellenshaw was hoping, that they took it there, wherever that is.”
They saw Everett thinking. He pursed his lips and that was when he turned to them. “I may know where that lair is.”
Collins stood with the faint hope that Everett may have an answer. Then he felt his heart skip when he saw the look on the admiral’s face.
“It’s close by. About three klicks out. But, Jack, you in particular are not going to like it.”
“What is it?” he asked as the others came near.
“First, I have to feed my chickens, we’re going to need them.”
“Chickens?” Mendenhall asked, not liking the sound of anything that had to do with birds of any kind.
“Yeah, I like the eggs, and they like being fed without hunting for their meals. It’s a mutual thing. They need me and I them.” He saw the strange looks being directed his way as if he had truly lost his mind. “Hey, you guys try living alone out here and not talk to strange birds.”
“I do not like the sound of this at all,” Will said as he and Ryan exchanged looks of dread. They all made their way to feed Admiral Everett’s chickens.
Charlie watched the small radar screen that controlled the automatic defense system. The miniscule blobs of light would appear and then vanish just as quickly. It was as if the raptors on the camp’s periphery were testing their defenses.
“They’re a little leery after getting their asses kicked the last time. They’re just trying to get us to react,” Jenks said as he looked through the lens of his night-vision scope that zoomed in three hundred times power. He chewed on the dead cigar and hissed under his breath.
“Do you hear yourself?” the crazed white-haired Ellenshaw asked as he kept his eyes on the scope and the surrounding countryside.
“What?” Jenks asked as he lowered the scope.
“My God, we’re actually worried that these abominations are merely trying to get us to react to them. Like they are hoping for a desired plan to take shape.”
The silence coming from the master chief was enough to unnerve Charlie.
“How many can we get with our limited supply of battery power?”
“Enough to probably piss off the remaining three or four thousand of the damn things when we’re all done.” Jenks smiled at Charlie, who had finally turned away from the screen in abject fear.
“Just think Little Big Horn, if that’s easier for you to grasp, Nerdly.”
The seven novice adventurers were stunned at the makeshift pen Everett had set up toward the rear of the stockade where the Romans had stored other animal life in their short tenure as rulers of this horrid land. What was inside the pen was far more shocking to them. Pecking the ground and scratching at its ash-covered surface were about fifteen of the giant rocs. The huge ostrich bodies were well over ten feet, far taller than a horse. The heads were large and the beaks terrifying in hooked deadliness. These rocs looked different to Ryan and Mendenhall. The killers they and the Russians had run into were multicolored with red and gold and black feathers, where these fifteen were white with red highlights. Their small, stubby wings flapped every once in a while when their beaks came into contact with some crawling thing making its way through the accumulated ash. They were calmly scratching for food as the humans watched them.
Carl went over to a large barrel that looked as if it were a thousand years old. He lifted out a large wooden bowl full of what looked like grain. He walked quickly over to the fence and then he opened the small gate and reattached a rope made of vine twistings. He approached the first roc as the others held their breath.
“You are one crazy son of a bitch, Skipper,” Ryan said as his blood froze when the roc looked up at Everett’s approach. “Will and I saw one of those tear a man’s head off not five hours ago.”
Carl turned and smiled. “Yeah, I’ve run across those guys too, they’re not friendly at all. These here? I think they may have been on their way to being domesticated by the Romans, Japanese, and Chinese soldiers before they were wiped out.” He turned and put his hand out to the roc. They were shocked when the giant bird nuzzled at Everett’s hand. The three long gouges in its beak told the newcomers this particular roc had seen trouble and survived. The head of the rooster was colored in bright red feathers that ended in a curlicue at its top. They could also see the obvious affection Carl had for the large, frightening animal.
“This one is my friend, we each saved the other’s life. His name is Foghorn.”