Part 71 (1/2)

I heard Top and Bunny coming up on either side of me, fifty yards out. I held my fist up to signal them to stop and hold.

Letting my gun barrel lead, I moved forward, walking among the corpses, looking for signs of life, finding only death.

Then I heard a sound behind the rear truck. I froze, then hand-signaled my guys to move in fast and wide so we could circle the truck from two positions. I ran forward on cat feet, and as I reached the back of the truck I yelled, ”Freeze!”

Or something like that.

Whatever I said never got out.

The tailgate of the truck was down and an Afghani was sprawled on the bed, arms and legs wide, eyes wide, chest torn wide. Three men were bent over the corpse. Their arms were crimson to the elbows. Their faces were smeared with blood. Pieces of raw meat hung from their teeth. They heard me and turned.

Their eyes . . .

G.o.d almighty, their eyes.

Where eyes should have been were holes torn into their faces and inside those holes . . .

Impossibly . . .

Fires burned inside of them.

Fires.

They froze there, lumps of red pressed to their mouths.Then they hissed at me, showing red teeth that had been filed to dagger points.

Somewhere, a million miles away, I heard Top and Bunny running, yelling.

The three men-if that word even makes sense anymore- dropped the red chunks of meat they held. They straightened. The biggest of them reached past the dead man to a wooden crate that had been smashed open and removed a piece of rock. Then I saw that it was a fragment of carved stone. The fleshy, rounded figure of a woman with a huge belly and b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The man pressed his b.l.o.o.d.y lips to the feet of the figure, then shoved it inside his jacket.

All three of them were staring at me with burning eyes.

In a voice as cold as death, the man with the statue said, ”We return what was stolen.We honor the bargain.”

Then I felt myself falling backward with no memory of why I'd lost balance.