Ayla sighed, then bent to dress Xav's ankle. "No."
"But he's hurting," I said. "Pepper nearly pulled his arm out of the socket, and she would've killed him, but someone was going to put a knife in her, so I called her off."
Which made Ayla glance back. "She listened?"
"Yeah."
And Ayla's eyes dropped to my side. "I think she likes you, Rymar."
"Thought she doesn't like men," Kanik teased.
"She doesn't," Lansin said. "Holly hates Moles. Pepper doesn't care about men at all. It's as if we don't exist."
I crouched down to pet the dog again. "Well, Kanik can spoil Holly all he wants. I get to spoil you now, okay? We're going to be good friends, Pepper. All you have to do is save Ayla a lot, and maybe the rest of us a bit, and I'll make sure you end up a very fat and happy puppy, hm?"
The whole time, she looked right at me with her copper eyes, and even wagged her tail.
Eighty-One
Tobias
Our third trip out and my men were still alive. As we dragged ourselves back to the compound doors, I checked over them again. Jeshiah was fine. Uriah had a gash across his cheek. Timon was covered in cold mud from falling in a stream. Elijah's shirt was ripped, and a dog had bitten his hand. As for me, I'd been cut on my leg. Bruised too, but my only real wound was a shallow, clean gash. Every step made it bleed a little more, but that only decreased the chances of infection. Callah had told me that.
This was the third time we'd come against small groups of Dragons and Reapers. The third time I'd blown that whistle, alternating between two blasts and three, hoping they'd realize what it meant. For nearly two weeks now, we'd been heading straight into the enemy, scuffling long enough to get some idea of their numbers, then retreating.
If we were whole at the end of it, the man in charge - Gideon or one of the team leaders - would send us to another location. Each time, the destination was picked with one of those round devices. Every time, we lost someone in the firefight that followed. Usually more than one.
I'd lost count of the number of fights we'd had so far. I only knew we'd gone out three times. The first had been led by Gideon, but these last two? Damisen had picked the next target. Skirmish after skirmish, fight after fight, we accomplished absolutely nothing but risking our lives. There was no meat, no progress, just carnage.
And the last fight had been bad. Dogs had been everywhere. Dragons had lashed out with poisonous tails. I'd pulled my men back, trying hard to keep from killing anyone - on either side - but we hunters had our orders. Then the worst had happened.
Damisen had fallen.
With no one in command, the four squads here today had fallen apart. Some had run. Others had rushed in. Men had died, but I'd expected something like this to happen. Hoping that device might hold the information Ayla needed, I'd scooped it up, pocketed it, and called for a full retreat.
Out of twenty-five men, eighteen of us were left. Not bad, all things considered, but still such a waste of life. And worse? That device was little more than half a sphere with a single arm that rotated on the flat face of it. Damisen had bragged that it would show us the way, but it didn't.
The stupid thing always pointed in the same direction, no matter which way I turned - and not to the compound. Still, I'd checked the thing a few times before I'd simply ignored it. And then somehow, I managed to lead the surviving members of this team back to the compound doors.
"Does anyone have the code to get in?" I asked as we paused before the heavy steel doors.
Silence.
These men were exhausted, hungry, and hurting. They were alive, though, and far more of them than I'd expected. So, with no other option, I did exactly what Gideon had told me to do solong ago. I pounded my fist against the steel as hard as I could. Then we waited.
When nothing happened after a few minutes, I banged again, and this time I didn't stop. Repeatedly, I pounded my fist against the cold, rusted steel until something had clanked loudly. With relief, I stepped back, only for six men to rush out with their weapons aimed and ready.
"What the..." someone gasped behind me.
I simply lifted my hands. "Our team lead is dead. We're out of bullets, half these men don't have guns, and wounds need to be treated."
The door cracked a little wider, and Mr. Peterson stepped out. "Tobias Warren?"
"Yes, sir."
"He got us back," Elijah said, moving to my side. "Damisen is dead. As the veteran squad leader, he took command."
"Let them in," Mr. Peterson ordered, gesturing for the door to be opened wider.
