Page 85 of Darling Wildfire
“What?” Preacher asked.
“They’re thinking Vetticus probably put the target in the farmhouse,” Atlas explained, taking a peek himself.
He lifted his rifle up so he could look through the sights.
“Well, I’d like something heavier than a .45 if we’re going to take a barn that’s exposed like that,” Preacher grouched.
“I agree,” I said. I looked back at the buildings near us.
“Let’s sweep a few of these buildings,” I said. “See what we can find. Preacher, Nyx—those two,” I pointed out the two buildings. “Atlas with me.”
I ran across the dirt road, and Atlas and I methodically cleared two buildings. We found an AR, a few more grenades, a knife and another .45, then quickly met the others back at the railcar to assess our haul.
“Vetticus sure has a thing for .45s,” Preacher muttered. “Not that I’m complaining—”
On top of what Atlas and I found, Preacher had come up with another .45 and a handful of smoke grenades. Nyx found another sniper rifle. We checked the firearms and loaded them then moved onto the next building. We hit pay dirt there and by the time we were ready to move on, we were all armed with an AR, two .45s and an assortment of grenades. In addition to all of that Atlas had his sniper rifle and the one Nyx found.
“Feel better, Preach?” Nyx asked with a grin.
He chuckled. “Fuck yeah.”
“Billy, what’s your status?” I asked over comms.
Silence. “Billy, come in.”
I exchanged looks with the men. “Dash—Vince, come in.”
Nyx shook his head. “Fuckin’ kids man.”
“That was fast,” Preacher muttered.
I gave up trying to reach them and went and stood near the window, looking carefully out at the barn on the bottom of a gently sloping hill.
“You know if we’re wrong, we just lost this game,” Preacher said.
“Isn’t that where you’d put her?” I asked him.
Preacher frowned but didn’t reply. Beyond the barn were a few railcars and the water tower sat like a silent sentry nearby. Atlas had his rifle up.
“Already a camper up there,” he said. “He’s busy looking at something slightly east of us though.”
“What about the barn?” I asked.
“All quiet.”
“Do you think that vehicle works?” Nyx asked. I looked down at where he was looking and saw an old wartime jeep sitting near the barn. It looked less decrepit than everything else around it.
“Could be worth a look,” I said. “Alright, we’re going to follow that dry river bed to that bridge, then Atlas—I want you to take out the sniper. Nyx watch our six—Preacher with me.”
AR clatter rang out somewhere deeper in the cluster of buildings behind us, lending us a sense of urgency to get moving.
“Go!”
We dropped into the river bed and followed it at a quick pace to a cobblestone bridge about eight feet above our heads. Atlas quickly set up in a corner on his stomach, setting his sights on the water tower. Nyx was on the other side, watching the buildings we’d just come from.
“Fire when ready, Atlas.”
“Incoming,” Nyx said. “Team of six at the buildings—sniper setting up second-floor window.”
