Can you one-shot him from here?”īeth was already unlimbering her compound bow. “Well?” asked Beth, kneeling on Fran’s right.įran lowered the binoculars. Fran had seen one choke on a tennis ball. They’d eat pretty much anything if it came down to it. Mostly they ripped their prey apart and gulped the meat down in chunks, or dug up grubs and beetles and whatever roots they could get their gnarled claws on. They had trouble with swallowing, these things the plague had made out of anyone with enough testosterone in their system to put out a decent crop of back hair.
The man’s matted, filthy hair floated on the surface as he gulped down greedy mouthfuls, tilting his head back to swallow like an alligator horking down a fish. Skinny pines, bare-branched for a good twenty feet under the canopy of needles, surrounded it. The forest pool was dark and brackish, scummed with blooms of vibrant green algae. Commit suicide now.įran, squinting in the early afternoon glare, watched through her scratched binoculars as the man knelt to drink. Trannies, your families will never love you.
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