"Settlement fifty miles east," Harry says. "Raiders and directed herds. Cole's relaying info."
Directed herds. Someone is coordinating these attacks. Red River isn't the first and it won't be the last.
"I'll go," I say.
"We'll go," Avery says.
"You should stay here."
"Harry has command while I'm gone. I trained him for this." She's already pulling the map. "You know extraction. I know structure. Together we have a better shot than either of us alone." She meets my eyes. "And don't argue with me about this."
I don't argue. "Okay," I say.
She blinks, looking at me like she'd prepared for a fight and doesn't know what to do with the absence of one. "Okay?"
"You're right. Let's look at the terrain."
She leans over the map and I lean over beside her, our shoulders pressing together, and we plan.
When it’s time to leave, Jenna is waiting at the gate.
Chin up. Hands loose. Ready to argue.
"No," Avery says before she opens her mouth.
"I know the terrain east of here. Old Hawk worked that route twice. I know where they water, where they camp, how they approach."
"Jenna."
"I'm not asking to fight. I'm asking to watch." Her voice is steady. "You know what I can do."
Avery goes quiet, running the calculation. The risk against the asset. The girl's safety against the girl's need to stop being protected from everything.
"Observation only," Avery says. "You see something, you tell me. You don't move without my word."
Jenna breathes out. "Yes."
"And when we get back," Avery's voice drops slightly. "We're going to talk about your mother. About where Old Hawk was keeping her. I want everything you know."
A smile moves across Jenna's face. She's gotten good at keeping her poker face, but not that good. "Okay," she says. "Yes. Okay."
We leave within the hour.
seven
Avery
RedRiverisworsethan the radio made it sound.
Three sides covered, sound devices herding zombie clusters toward the east wall in waves. Organized. Too organized. Whoever is running this campaign has done it before and gotten better at it.
Jenna crouches beside me in the treeline. "Southeast corner," she says quietly. "That's where they stage the devices before they move them. Old Hawk always worked from the high ground on the right."
Dutch is already recalculating.
"Drainage tunnel," he says. "East side, not covered. Extraction route."
"How many can you move?"
