“Half the time it’s the exact same brand. The only difference is dosage. Except for you, I’d give you a Chihuahua dose to match the size of your goddamn brain.”
If he pissed off the older man, he didn’t show it. He simply gazed down at Blake with that infuriating smugness he seemed to ooze. Blake could tell him two plus two equaled four, and he’d disagree just to be a dick.
“It might be worth a try,” Beaumont said from over by the nurse’s station.
Alvarez glanced over at Beaumont, quiet for a moment as he considered it. “No way. We’re not going any further into the city. It’s too hot. And we’ve already wasted enough time on this.” His words were firm, chest puffing out a little as if giving the command made him cockier. “Irving gave us a mission, and we need to get back to it.”
Blake couldn’t believe it. They would rather search sites they’dalreadygone to than try what could be a sure thing? Most people probably thought the same as Tyler and wouldn’t have thought to look at a vet clinic. There could be tons of unspoiled medication ripe for the picking, and they were just going to ignore it?
Not Blake. No. He made a promise to Emily, and he was going to keep it. He was going to open his bag and show everyone, showGabriel,that he could still save a life. That he could do more than fail.
He took two steps across the room and wrenched Beaumont’s rifle out of his lax grasp. “Fine, I’ll go myself.”
Anyone else would have shot him on sight, but as much as Beaumont pretended, he wasn’t a soldier. His gun had slipped through his fingers. If Blake had tried that with anyone else on the team, he’d have been full of holes.
“What the fuck!?” Blake couldn’t tell if Alvarez was yelling at him or Beaumont.
Holding the gun close to his chest, he stomped across the glass. The light stung his eyes, but he was committed to his dramatic exit and didn’t want to stop to shield them. The doors to the truck were still open, so he reached in and grabbed the first bag he saw, slinging it over his shoulders.
“Stop! I’m giving you a direct order to?—”
“If I don’t listen to orders from the guy who gives me orgasms, I’m sure as shit not going to take any from you!” Blake snapped back, settling the backpack on his shoulder.
Alvarez stared at him from the doorway, jaw slack. Behind him, Blake could see Tyler snickering, and Beaumont looked like a deer in the headlights. Zoe just looked annoyed.
Blake settled the gun back in his hands and turned toward the city. He glanced down at the gun and tried to remember what Gabriel had told him about rifles. They didn’t have the ammo to practice with, so he’d just talked him through it. But he’d also been shirtless at the time, nipples hard, and his collarbones defined. Blake hadn’t really retained anything he’d said.
Alvarez muttered something angry in Spanish before jogging behind Blake and grabbing him by the backpack. “Fine.Fine!You have five minutes exactly, or I’ll make you ride back in the bed.” He dragged Blake back, grunting about how he thought Blake was the ‘least annoying one’.
Beaumont snatched his gun back when they got back to the truck. He glared at Blake and then at Alvarez. “Thoughthedidn’t get special treatment.”
Their commander threw his hands up. “I wanted to piss Lennox off, not sign my death warrant. Get in the fucking truck.”
CHAPTER
NINE
Judd hummed under his breath as he deftly sliced through skin, muscle, and tendon. His forearms and naked chest were splattered in blood, heat rising off his sweaty skin as he worked the sharp hunting knife through the abdomen of the dead deer. Though he was humming, his face relaxed, Gabriel could see the concentration in the set of his eyebrows. The shine in his eyes as he worked, moving with an ease that spoke of experience.
His back was a scarred mess from the Monkey Cat attack. Gabriel hadn’t seen it since the wounds closed over and was surprised by just how much thickened scar tissue Judd was sporting. Healing had to have hurt like a bitch.
Beside him, Victoria crossed her arms and watched as Judd worked. Her face was pinched, blonde hair falling loose from the bun she usually kept it in. Stray frizzy pieces were catching the fading light like a messy crown as she ducked her nose into the high collar of her jacket.
“Damn Danger Tits,” Judd drawled as he removed an organ, letting it drop in the bucket by his side. “That was a clean shot. Right through the heart. Dead before he hit the ground.”
Victoria’s eye twitched, but she didn’t respond. Gabriel wondered if she was offended or too busy trying to keep herlunch down. He was regretting the second hot dog he’d wolfed down before they went hunting.
Gabriel had shot many things. Most of them human-shaped. And while he couldn’t say that didn’t make him uncomfortable, there was something about seeing an animal butchered that just…didn’t sit right with him. He knew meat wasn’t born in pre-packaged Styrofoam containers, but he sure as shit preferred to look at them that way.
Normally, Irving didn’t like them to go hunting. It was risky. Ammo was a precious commodity, and guns were loud. They didn’t want to do anything to draw attention—of the human or extraterrestrial kind. But the cold was finally waning, snow melting, and it was the perfect opportunity to find food. They could dehydrate this meat and turn it into jerky to keep for months. Or better yet, develop some kind of pemmican. It wouldn’t necessarily taste good, but it would store well and give them the energy and fat they would need. Especially if they were on the run.
They could fill a cooler with ice and snow and hope the meat stayed good. Either way, it would be a nice change of pace to have something fresh. Even if Gabriel did have to avoid looking at its face.
Judd had found the deer, tracking it like some kind of savant. Gabriel knew a little bit about tracking, but that was mostly humans, and he knew the army hadn’t taught Judd half of what he knew. He was a bit cagey about how he learned, but Gabriel suspected it might be a core curriculum in Texas elementary schools.
Despite his tracking skills, it was Victoria who took the shot. She didn’t hesitate. Swinging the rifle up, sighting, and pulling the trigger. It was a clean shot. Gorgeous really. The other deer in the herd scattered, running into the thick underbrush whileshe strode forward to check her kill, ready to put it out of its misery if she missed. Victoria rarely missed.
Still, she looked just as uncomfortable with the act of butchering it as Gabriel felt.
