Fireteam Delta by J. Halpin (ebook reader that looks like a book txt) đź“•
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- Author: J. Halpin
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Nowak had already posted up at the cave’s entrance, looking out into the rainy night.
“You’re absolutely sure it isn’t heading this way?”
“Pretty sure.” Summers gasped between words. “No way it saw me, at least. Don’t think it can sniff us out through the rain, either.”
Nowak took one last look outside, then moved to the Humvee. He flipped through his book, looking at some notes.
“You said it was a lizard? Had a big mouth on it?”
“Yeah . . .”
“Some of the traders warned me about something like that. Forgot the name they had for them.”
“The fucking elves deal with these things? How?” Summers looked at Asle.
She started to mime throwing something.
“Fire. Very effective.”
“Napalm more like, or something close to it. You just burn it and hope it doesn’t catch you up before it dies. Or bleeds out.”
“Sounds fun.” Cortez was watching the entrance, her hand on a trigger Summers was almost certain would atomize anything that came close.
“Wait, you knew that thing was here? The hell were you thinking? It’s the size of a small fucking building.”
Nowak glanced back at Summers, concern on his face.
“Didn’t know they were that big, and it’s not like I had a lot of time to look into it.” Nowak flipped through the book a little too fast; his nerves were on edge. “Worse news, that’s not the only one. Every time I brought it up, they used the word for, uh, herd? That right, Asle?”
“They said there’s lots of them,” Asle agreed.
“Great . . .”
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The Humvee rolled slowly forward. The windows were down, just in case something big tried to announce itself. Cortez was on the roof with her small arsenal, just waiting for the worst to come.
There was only one problem.
They were burning the incense that was supposed to keep most of the wildlife away. And it smelled. Bad. Frankly, it was the foulest thing Summers had ever had the displeasure of experiencing in his life. It was as if someone had concentrated the essence of a poorly cleaned, heavily used amusement park bathroom, aged it for flavor, and tossed in some rotten meat for good measure.
Summers repressed the urge to gag. He was doing his best to keep his face neutral. From what he could tell, the others weren’t having any issues.
“We still good on gas?” Nowak asked from the passenger’s seat.
Summers checked the gauge. He’d probably need to top them off at the next stop. “For now. Might get us to the coast. Might not.”
“After the main road, if we get to the other side of the canyon, we might be able to coast down in neutral.”
“Sure . . .” Summers tried to clear his throat. The damn smell was killing him.
“The hell is the matter with you?” Nowak looked at Summers with concern.
“Nothing,” Summers lied.
Nowak just kept staring.
“Summers, tell me what is going on.”
“It’s no—”
“It’s not nothing, or I wouldn’t be asking,” Nowak interrupted. He stared at Summers for a long moment before he relented.
“I think the fog screwed with my sense of smell.”
“How?”
“I . . . it’s a lot stronger. And right now, those sticks you lit are making me want to get as far away from this Humvee as possible. If this is what it’s like for the animals, I don’t think anything’s coming close to us.”
Nowak sniffed the air.
“You can smell it?”
“I can fucking taste it. I feel like this is what dogs deal with.”
More silence as Nowak watched him.
He didn’t blame the guy. If Summers hadn’t kept this secret, maybe they would have seen what happened with Adams coming.
“Any reason we’re only hearing about this now?” Logan asked from the back.
“I was hoping it would wear off . . . but after what happened with Adams. I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
There was an awkward silence after that, broken only when Summers felt a face close beside his.
“That’s creepy as hell.” Cortez had her head poked in through the driver’s side window. She was hanging upside down, leaning in from the rooftop. “What do I smell like?”
Summers pulled back a few inches, still trying to keep his eyes on the road. “I can sort of tell you guys apart, I guess, but it’s not like I can relate it to anything.”
“Anything else?” Nowak was still looking at Summers, and it was obvious there was something he was leaving unsaid.
“My hands are still kinda fucked up, at least when it comes to fine motor stuff. Anything that’s muscle memory is almost better.” Summers thought. “And adrenaline is more . . . mental than it should be.”
“Like how?”
“Like I get pissed off in a fight pretty easily . . .”
He let that hang in the air, and Nowak didn’t ask him to clarify. They’d already been in more than one fight since he went off the deep end. They knew he could hold it together. At least, he thought they knew.
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Summers threw the Humvee in park. They’d hit a crossroads, and Nowak wanted to double-check their bearings. Every so often, they’d come across a dirt path the map didn’t account for. Some of them were game trails, while others were just new trade routes the maps didn’t seem to know about. They could have just as likely found a shortcut as some hick town’s driveway.
Summers unslung one of the gas cannisters from the back and started the arduous process of topping themselves off.
Then he smelled something, even through the barely
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