Deadland's Harvest (part 2 of the Deadland Saga)

Greed (Chapter 20)

I stepped around the Humvee. Don climbed to his feet. No one spoke while we waited to see how big a herd we had to deal with. 

Finally, a single shape emerged. We all let out a collective sigh.

Maggie's hand fluttered over her heart. "Oh, thank God."

The huge, mangy wolf—or large dog; it was too hard to tell from this distance—stepped out from the shadows, eyed us as though deciding which would be easier prey, and then slowly turned to follow the deer. The deer had made a large U-turn around us and stopped only a couple hundred meters from where we stood. Wolves had multiplied since the outbreak. Large dogs were now joining their ranks, and these new packs feared neither humans nor zeds. Both became their dinner.

Once the wolf was a safe distance away and no others appeared, I let out the breath I'd been holding.

"Anyone in the mood for some venison for dinner?" Jase said from atop the Humvee.

I glanced at Clutch, and his lips curved upward.

We each raised our rifles. "I'll take the big one on the left."

"I've got mine," Clutch said.

"Three," Jase said quietly. "Two."

We fired at the exact same instant.

Two deer fell, and I grinned, thinking of the first real meal I'd have since the catfish ordeal.

"Let's hurry up and grab them in case the noise draws attention," Griz said.

"They're all yours," I said, still smiling. While I enjoyed eating fresh meat, I hated seeing it when it was still literally doe-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Griz smirked. "I'll haul them back, but I think I've got the better end of the deal. You guys will have to haul this group if they're coming." He gestured toward the small band of stranded newcomers. Then, his features hardened. "I'm sorry, but we can't take in a casualty. It's against protocol. You know that, right?"

I swallowed, glancing back at the woman who was starting to groan again, holding her stomach. The morphine was wearing off too quickly. Don was already growing tense again as he watched us.

"Get us a kit," Clutch said tightly. "I'll handle it from here."

Griz gave the slightest nod before heading around the back of his Humvee.

"What kit are you talking about?" Don asked. "What are you doing?"

Clutch didn't say anything, and Don turned to me. "What are you talking about doing to my wife?"

My lips tightened and I gulped before forcing the words out. "We can't heal her, but we can take away her pain." I liked to think I could bring peace for someone I loved if they were doomed, but I wasn't so sure I had the strength for it. Seeing the agony on Don's face, I was thankful it wasn't my decision to make.

Griz walked back with a vial and syringe and held it out for Clutch. "We'll meet you at the RP in twenty."

Clutch took it. "See you there."

Griz gave the group a troubled look before heading toward the van.

"What is that?" Don asked, backing up step by step.

"It's an anesthetic," Clutch said and held up the vial. "It's called pentobarbital. Just one shot, and your wife will fall asleep. She won't hurt anymore."

"But she'll wake up, right?" Don asked, his voice rising in octaves. "Right?"

"She won't wake," Maggie said. "That's the same stuff they use to put down dogs for good. They want to kill Brenda." She hobbled over to stand between Brenda and Clutch. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I won't stand for it. I will not allow you to commit murder."