Part 92 (1/2)

echo teAm We stood there for a long time, staring at the three dead men from Rattlesnake Team. We all felt lost, confused. Damaged in ways that resisted identification and definition.

Top told me that after I'd left earlier to walk the scene, he'd checked the perimeter of our camp while Bunny made some food. A figure cut right in front of Top.The little boy, running at full speed.Top immediately gave chase and caught up to the kid three hundred yards down the valley. However, when he grabbed the boy's shoulder, the robes tore away and a woman was there. For just a moment,Top thought that it was a young woman.

”Really friggin' beautiful, too,”Top told me. ”Dusky skin, and built like Beyonce. Naked and all s.h.i.+ny like she was covered in oil. Got to admit that it floored me. Absolutely f.u.c.king floored me.Then I blinked and she wasn't like that at all.”

The creature who stood facing Top was the same one-or same kind of thing-that had attacked me.Wrinkled, emaciated, with sagging b.r.e.a.s.t.s, jagged teeth, and hands that made Top s.h.i.+ver as he described them.

The thing knocked the rifle out of Top's hand, slammed him against a wall, and kept saying the same thing.

The bargain needs to be completed.

Top didn't try to figure out what that meant. All he did was try to fight, but the woman slammed him face-forward into the rock.

When Top woke up, he ran back to the camp. Bunny was on his hands and knees, his face covered in welts, coughing blood from a split lip. His story was the same as Top's.

The same as mine.

It was an impossible story. Bunny is six foot seven and can bench-press four hundred pounds in sets of twenty. And he's a top SpecOps shooter trained to kill in every way known. n.o.body ever manhandled him. Not without a lot of help.

Until that day.

He was no more effective against this thing than me or Top.

All three of us had been defeated easily. Mastered, humiliated.

Discarded.

But Sergeant Michael ”Finn” O'Leary was gone.

And Rattlesnake Team had been returned.

What was left of them, anyway.

We all wanted to compare our stories, to sit down and work out what it meant. Hallucinogens. Some kind of spore in the air that was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with our minds. Maybe an electrical field from some kind of science fiction gadget.

We wanted to make sense of it.