She barely caught the blur of movement as someone swung a heavy rake at her. Rachael brought her blade up to try and parry it away, but the edge bit deep into the wood and she nearly lost the weapon. The attacker tried to use the opportunity to pull her knife from her hand, but even half-blinded, Rachael pivoted and kicked out. The flat of her heel hit something solid and the attacker sagged back, losing his grip on the rake. Rachael freed her weapon with a deft snap of her wrist.

Then she spun and dropped into a fighting crouch, legs spread, weight shifted onto the balls of her feet, ready for anything. Three more flashlights flared to life and she was completely blind now.

She never saw what it was that knocked her legs out from under her. Maybe a shovel, maybe an axe handle. Whatever it was whipped her feet into the air and then she was down, landing flat on her back. Too hard, too fast, no chance at all to break her fall. The air was knocked out of her lungs and she made a scream like a dying rabbit as she tried to suck some oxygen.

“This is for you, you fucking bitch,” growled a man’s voice and she had the briefest image of a thick boot moving toward her face. The kick knocked all the lights out of the world and Rachael plummeted into a bottomless pit of darkness.

— 25 —: THE SOLDIER AND THE DOG

— 25 —

THE SOLDIER AND THE DOG

I didn’t catch up with Snail and his crew of spies, though I found a spot on the dirt shoulder of a feeder road that showed clear signs of bicycle tires. Still biking, though not in the same thunderous style. Whatever. Bicycles were practical, they didn’t need gas, and they were quiet. I gave Snail some grudging points for that.

Baskerville and I scouted along the road in the opposite direction, following where the road arced around to the far west corner of Happy Valley, and there we got lucky.

Three bikes were set against trees just off the road and loosely covered with leafy branches. Enough cover to keep away nosy humans, and totally indifferent to the dead. Not that there were a lot of zombies in the area. No real reason there would be. I hadn’t seen many homes or farms within miles, which meant that population was pretty thin on the ground to begin with. Maybe any stray walkers had been cleared out by either the Rovers or the residents of Happy Valley. There were some bones in the weeds, including skulls that displayed clear head trauma.