“Hello! Heeeeelp!!” a young man’s voice carried over the woods, soon followed by several others. Theo skulked through the bushes and up a hill, until he could peer into a small gully on the other side.

  He saw the same group of people, this time more clearly. There were seven of them, three men and four women, one of which was carried by the men, bleeding profusely from a gaping wound on her back.

  The young man leading them was a prime specimen of gym-made musculature, with a neatly trimmed beard and a winged skull tattoo on his chest. He carried a thick branch as a club, and was currently in the process of rearranging the carriers for the injured woman. Theo closed his eyes, to tune out distractions, and focused on their voices.

  The leader of their small group was American, likely from Florida judging from the accent. He affected a clipped, sergeant-like manner of speech, presumably to make himself sound more authoritative, but it sounded artificial and amateurish. Not a soldier then, but likely a wannabe, the sort that washes down to bottom-of-the-barrel security jobs.

  Of the other five, Theo counted two men who spoke Farsi, but with very different accents, one woman who spoke English with a Cantonese accent, one was an Afrikaneer, and the last one was most likely Puertorican. The limp woman did not speak at all. None of them sounded particularly smart, educated, or confident, and none of them, leader included, sounded like they had actual military experience.

  And thus, in response to the new data, in a span of about two minutes of quiet contemplation, a new version of Theo Danton had been born. One cobbled together from many previous fake identities Theo carried.

  “Hello! I can hear you! Stay put, I'm coming!” He circled the ravine and came from the side of the river, to appear as if he heard them from afar, and not spied on them.

  As he emerged from the woods, his back strengthened, his jaw protruded, and his voice dropped an octave and became raspier.

  The group froze seeing him, expecting a rescue party, not yet another naked survivor. He stalked towards them with intent, spear in hand. The man in charge seemed to bristle, and frowned at him.

  “Who the hell are you? What’s going on?”

  “Captain Theodore Danton, Royal Marines.” He said, faking a vaguely British accent that did not suggest any particular origin, and looked the man firmly in the eyes. The man, or rather a boy, barely over twenty, quickly deflated. The bravado was powered by his size and muscles only, not by any sort of internal conviction.

  “Uh, Team Leader Kyle Weathers, Florida Militia, Alpha Company.”

  Theo saluted the man casually, to which he awkwardly responded, his club getting in the way of a proper salute.

  This was almost too easy.

  “At ease, Team Leader.” he saw confusion on Kyle’s face, when the man was not entirely sure if he was given an order, and if he should follow it. Danton presented his hand and Kyle shook it stiffly, trying to establish his dominance with a powerful grip, yet failed when Danton did not react.

  “Ok… sir? You British?”

  “Yes. British Royal Marines. Are you in charge of this group?” he asked back, which was a subtextual way of saying that he was now in charge and only humoring Kyle out of politeness.

  “Yeah. Found the lot of them wandering the woods. Picked them one by one the last two days. We had to beat back a pack of wolves, they got Tammy right here,” he pointed at the unconscious woman, who by Theo’s estimate was not going to regain consciousness ever again. “I patched her up, and had the towelheads carry her with us. I figured out we needed to go find a river and then travel downstream until we find people. I mean, civilization.”

  “Excellent work tee-el. Or should I call you sergeant? I don’t know your unit’s structure.” Danton patted Kyle on the shoulder, inventing a more military-sounding frame for their interaction.

  “Ah, tee-el is fine, I guess. What is going on, uh, captain? Is this some kind of military experiment by the gub’ment, or terrorists at work?” Kyle eyed the two Middle Eastern men, who scowled right back at him. One of them sported a black-eye, likely Kyle’s handiwork.

  “We need to get these people to safety.” Danton said, ignoring him. “You up to it Tee-el? There are worse things than wolves around here. Tough decisions will have to be made.” He nodded at the unconscious woman.

  “Yes sir, Captain, sir. ” Kyle followed his gaze and nodded as well. “We’d do what needs doin’.”

  Captain Theodore Danton needed only minutes to reorganize their little group. He put Kyle The Militiaman at the back of their little group to hold the rear against threats, to Kyle’s visible, but unspoken chagrin. He delegated the task of carrying the comatose Tammy to the three women. None of them had the strength to lift a limp body, nor could three of them cooperate and balance the load well, which was just as Theo wanted it. The irrational noble affectation of wanting to save a clearly dying, unsalvageable civilian was something Theo wanted to discourage, but he’d rather have the group come to that conclusion on their own, than force it.

  They continued their march along the river’s shore, but it was quite quickly bogged down to a crawl when the river exploded in width, and turned into a swampy delta in which the water, the mud and the plantlife melded together into green-gray slurry. He decided to use the delay to know his little group better.

  The youngest of the women, a haughty corporate socialite from Hong Kong, identified herself as Jenny Láng, a surname that amused Theo greatly given their circumstances. She was the first to vocally complain about having to carry an essentially dead body, and said outright that they should abandon Tammy to be devoured by wolves so that the rest of them could more easily escape danger. She argued, not without merit, that the smell of blood was going to either help the wolves follow them, or attract different predators, and that the price of one life was less than seven. Theo immediately marked her as a useful future resource, but also a possible danger.

  The Puertorican Isabella, a motherly-looking hen of a woman with frizzy, salt pepper hair and concerned hazel eyes seemed to do as told, even though she spoke or understood very little English. Luckily, Theo spoke very good Spanish, so that was not a problem. He filed her as a dependable, but ultimately expendable warm body to push at possible dangers.

  Lastly, the Afrikaner who identified herself as Adelle, albeit with the briefest, split-second hesitation, was someone he immediately checked for quick elimination. A faded Boer beauty in her very late thirties, tall and slender with naturally platinum hair, blue eyes, and a quietly observant poise about her, she was the one who pushed hardest for the injured woman to be saved, and it was probably her, not Kyle that patched the wound. She looked worryingly comfortable in the situation, and worse still, measured Theo with a cautious, suspicious gaze when she thought he would not notice. Theo’s new identity was not ironclad, and he had a nagging suspicion that this woman saw through it. The fact that she did not say so immediately, but seemed to have assessed the situation quickly and kept quiet, made her even more dangerous.

  Theo strongly believed that the only clever and observant people around him should be either firmly on his side, or dead, and he was planning to make that ‘Adelle’ into one category or another as quickly as possible.

  Finally, the last two people he had to manage were the two Farsi-speaking men. The older one, Amir from Iran, was a stocky, soft-spoken construction worker with calloused hands and an obedient manner, that showed he either had some military experience after all, or possibly did some prison time, as he immediately fell in step with Kyle’s, and later Theo’s orders. The younger, Farrukh, was a wiry yet muscular Tajikistani youth sporting a luscious mustache and a fresh black eye from his brief scuffle against Kyle. He muttered curses under his breath and stared daggers at their supposed ‘Team Leader’, but easily fell under Theo’s faux fatherly charm. Theo would bet considerable money that both of the young men in the group were raised without a father, given how they instinctually seemed to crave validation and acknowledgment from the ‘Captain’ figure he invented.

  Splendid, Theo thought. Between Farrukh and Kyle, he could easily train for himself two potential flunkies who would be as loyal to him as they were enemies with one another. All he needed now was to domesticate them with carefully arranged carrots and sticks. He was not sure how long it would take them to reach civilization, but he preferred to err on the side of caution and secure his own position. Regardless, he could always ditch them later, but one does not part with useful tools unless one really needs them no longer.

  “Captain, you need to see this!”, Kyle called down from a bent willow that he climbed to get a better view of the river.

  Theo shimmied up the trunk with practiced ease. He might have been nearly a head shorter than Kyle, and maybe two-thirds his weight in muscle, but there were benefits in being wiry and small-statured.

  He did not need Kyle to point a direction to him. Despite being past his best years, Theo still had the sharp eyesight of a sniper he started as. Far into the sprawl of the river, almost at the edge where mists obscured the view, there was an island blackened with recent fire. The everpresent shrubs and reeds that littered the other islets were gone, and the few willows that stood there were charred stumps.

  “Nice work, tee-el,” he said, patting him on the back. “I'm pretty sure islands in the middle of a large river do not spontaneously burst in flames, so this is likely the work of people.”

  “Why would anyone set a whole island on fire?” Kyle asked. “Maybe someone camped at that bih and fucked up securin’ their campfire or somethin’,”

  Theo shook his head. “Unlikely. The riverine weeds don’t burn that well, being soggy and all. Someone must have gone out of their way to do it on purpose.”

  Kyle rubbed his chin, frowning. “What for? Smoke signals? But…,” his frown deepened, “Why would they use smoke signals for? If they have rescue boats or somethin’ to go ‘round the river won’t they been havin’s some floodlights or foghorns?”

  Theo looked up, measuring Kyle with his brand-new fatherly stare.

  “I don’t think there are any boats around, and it was not a rescue party. Until proven otherwise, it would be a good strategy to assume everyone else in this place is a naked survivor just like we are.”

  Kyle deflated a bit, but nodded grimly. “Figured so, captain. You know I ain’t stupid, just keeping my hopes up, is all.” Nodding at their little group, currently camping by the riverside he continued. “Not sure is a bad thing though. One one hand, I wish we were found by some coastguard or somethin’. The other though, what if we are in enemy territory? Swamp aside, this ain’t Florida I know. What if we got kidnapped by the Chinese? Or some terrorists?” he gestured towards Farrukh who was pacing around the clearing, trying to collect firewood.

  “You think we should be wary of the next group we encounter?” Theo led Kyle on.

  “Would be a good strategy, ain’t it? We run into another bare-assed survivor or two, we can take them in, if they listen to orders, or take ‘em out if they bein’ belligerent. But if we run into a group of organized and armed men, don’t think we should go up and greet them. What if they’re Russkies, or Chinese, or towelheads?”

  Theo nodded in grim agreement. Kyle talked himself into instant distrust of anyone they encountered, which was exactly what Theo wanted. But the work of molding their group into useful shape was not yet finished.

  “You need to do something about the dying woman, Tee-el. I might outrank you, but ultimately this is your team. I cannot decide for you.”

  “Whatcha mean captain?” Kyle paled, because, despite his slow wits, he knew exactly what Theo meant.

  “We need to take the team to that burned-out island, search for clues there, and then move forward. We cannot drag along someone who is already dying. She’ll drown, and likely drag someone down with her.” Theo sounded properly mournful to drive the point home.

  Kyle shook his head. “Nah. I mean… captain. I know she’s a goner but… you can’t order me to, I mean, come on… she’s a human being and a woman for Chrissakes.”

  “And she is suffering. She cannot move, drink, or eat, she barely breathes. Decide what needs to be done, Tee-el. Consult your team if you need to. But make the call quickly, I think that the wolfpack will sooner or later find us here. Or something worse will.”

  Theo slid down the tree, landing gracefully on the grass, and walked back to the camp where Amir and Adelle sweated over another futile attempt to start a fire with a drill-stick. He could have explained it to them how to do it correctly, but it was not the time to give them hope, when what he needed them to feel was despair.

  Kyle followed after him, fists clenched.

  “Get up y’all we’re movin’, ” Kyle tried to make it sound nonchalant, but noticed their confusion. “Get up. We are going for a swim.” He gestured at the river. “There’s an island. We need to get there.”

  For a while, nobody moved, they just stared at him.

  “Sure boss, but why?” Jenny hopped up and moved next to him. Theo noticed that she had an over-eager smile, not congruent with their circumstances, and tended to stick close to Kyle whenever she could, chatting him up and finding an excuse to touch him. She was otherwise cold and standoffish with everybody else. Interesting.

  “Yes, why?” Adelle asked. “And how? Tammy is in no condition to swim, and we do not have a boat.”

  “I no swim!” Isabella chimed in.

  Theo moved away from Kyle and leaned against a tree, observing. It annoyed him that Adelle looked straight at him when asking that question.

  “Yes, you will, and that is an order.” Kyle picked up his club, which somehow helped him regain his confidence. “I saw fire,” he lied, “there might be other people there, or maybe a rescue party. We gotta move, before they’re gone. Or d’ya want to stay here and end up wolf chow like this one?”

  He did not need to point at Tammy, they all immediately looked at her.

  “Please, no.” Amir said quietly in English. “We are not abandoning the girl to be eaten. Captain, speak sense to him!” he added in Farsi, directing it at Theo. Yet, the man had not joined Adelle in open defiance, and he held Farrukh’s shoulder, trying to calm him down.

  “This is his decision, and yours,” Theo responded in the same language. “I want to help you, but I cannot decide for you. I know this is tough on your conscience.”

  Kyle scowled at their use of a language he could not follow. “Enough of this. We’re going. Before it’s too late.”

  Farrukh looked at him defiantly, but the club in Kyle’s hands kept him from leaping into action. The rest stood frozen, neither wanting to challenge Kyle nor leave Tammy.

  “Don’t be idiots!” It was Jenny who broke the impasse. “The woman is dead anyway. The Team Leader is right. We go!”

  “Im not going.” Adelle shook her head. “I will not leave her to die, not like this. We are people, not animals.” She did not seem to have the courage to look Kyle in the eyes, but she stepped back and sat next to Tammy.

  “No, not go.” Isabella stepped back as well, and joined hands with Adelle.

  Farrukh tried to step back too, but Amir held his shoulder and whispered angrily in his ear. For a second it looked like the youth would try to wrestle out of his grip, but he calmed down and sheepishly stepped towards Kyle and Jenny.

  Kyle stared angrily at them, the club raised threateningly, but finally sighed and shook his head.

  “Alright, you dumbshits. You wanna stay, fine by me.” He ran his fingers through his hair, visibly exasperated. “How ‘bout that,” he pointed at the river, “those of us with any brains, we’re goin’ to the island, and further out, to find help. Once we do, we’ll send someone to get ya. Try not to die ‘till then, ok?” he shrugged. “or die, fuck if I care. I'm done draggin’ around a corpse and stupid ingrates.”

  Theo observed their reaction. He even feigned a scowl of anger at Kyle’s supposed callousness. His initial plan was to coax Kyle into mercy-killing Tammy, but the way events developed was even better. If Isabelle and Adelle stayed, they were getting rid of two extra mouths to feed, including one possible troublemaker, without sacrificing the strength of their little group.

  “I hate to say it, but I must agree with your Team Leader.” he said, raising, and shaking his head in pretend sadness. “Miss Tammy would not survive the swim, and we cannot afford to be slowed down anyway. If whoever started that fire sails away beyond our ability to find them, it could mean the end of us. All of us.”

  “What’s the point of those dumb bitches staying then?” Jenny chimed in. “Tammy’s dead anyhow.”

  “If she dies, she dies.” Adelle answered her, with enough cold fury in her voice to shut Jenny up. “But I am not leaving her here to die. I’ll stay and try to keep her alive for as long as I can. If you find anyone, I beg you to send help as fast as you can.”

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  “I stay.” Isabelle said as well. Lacking the words in English, she switched to her native Spanish to explain. “This girl is the age of my daughter. She’s a child. I’d be damned to Hell if I left a child to die. Besides, I can’t swim. Would only slow you down.”

  Amir looked like he wanted to stay as well, but it was obvious that if he did, Farrukh would too. Reluctantly, he moved to stand next to Kyle.

  Kyle shook his head with an incredulous, angry smile. “Jenny’s right, you’re both dumbass old bitches. Your funeral though. Should’of put her out of her misery,” he faked slamming his club down, “you’d have no reason to stay then.”

  “You’re not going to do it.” Adelle said calmly. It was not a challenge, just a statement of fact. Again, she said it to Kyle, but looked at Theo instead. She obviously knew that Kyle was just a bully, not a cold-blooded killer. But it seemed like she knew Theo might be one.

  “I think that’s settled Tee-el,” Theo said to Kyle. “Everyone made their own choices, even if we disagree with them. Let us focus on how we are going to get to the burned island, and if need be, further.” He purposely turned his back on the three women that were staying behind, and pulled the attention of the rest away from them.

  “How’d we get there, Cap?” Kyle asked, visibly glad that the conversation veered away from moral choices to practical matters. “The island’s fuckin’ far and it would mean goin’ across the current. I mean, I'm in top shape, but I’ll gas out before I get close to it. And no diss, but none of ya come near my fitness stats, you’d all just drown half-way. So what, we build a raft or somethin’? Think I saw a few fallen trees on our way here, we- ”

  “No use. Heavy. No tools.” Amir said matter of factly in strained English.

  Kyle acquiesced. “Yah, you’re right. But maybe just one?” he pointed at a fallen beech visible at the edge of the clearing.

  Amir snorted. “Good. Try lift it.” He saw Kyle’s face grow angry, and hastily added. “Twenty people do it. Machine do it. Six people not do it. This ala? wood. Very heavy.” He pointed at the reeds separating them from the river, “Many this together.” He mimed bunching the reeds and tying them in a bushel.

  “He is right,” Jenny Láng chimed in. “Saw it on the Internet. Poor people from around Youngshuo make boats that way.”

  They set up to work. Theo was the first to wade into the water to cut down handfuls of reed and passed it to Jenny and Amir who tried to tie them together with willow withies. He made himself visibly useful and diligent, a leader that leads from the front. Isabelle and Adelle joined them too, despite having decided to stay. The two helped tie together the reed raft, and took the spare to make bedding and a cover for Tammy. He considered it a waste of time and resources, since she was already completely limp and the colour of ash. She still breathed, but between the blood loss and the cold, and the fact that she was completely unconscious for the last two days, Theo was sure there was no brain activity left between her ears.

  Finally, after about two hours of hard work, they cleared a path towards the river, and had a floating lump of tied bulrush the size of a minivan. It was not shaped like a boat at all, but it seemed buoyant enough, even when they all leaned on it.

  “Last chance to change your mind.” Kyle looked back to Adelle and Isabelle, who went back to trying to start a fire. “You two made ya point. We’re all heartless assholes for leavin’ her to die. Come be heartless assholes with us and live, not be stubborn dipshits and die.”

  Isabelle shook her head, silently. Adelle did not even deign him with an answer.

  “Jesus fuckin’ Christ ya’ll females are dumb,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his face. For a second Theo feared that Kyle might change his mind and decide to stay. Or worse, come to a conclusion that Tammy could be loaded on the raft and taken with them. Which was technically true, just not the right choice. Luckily, the battle between nascent moral empathy, and cold, selfish pragmatism in Kyle’s heart seemed to be won by the latter, and he simply pushed the raft into open water, his eyes burning with poorly hidden shame, but focused on the target, not looking back.

  They all clustered together, holding the end of the raft and working with their legs to push it forward gently. They did not want to try to climb on it, or push it faster, for fear it would disintegrate under the strain. Once they crossed the middle of the way, they noticed the obvious drawback. They were going too slow to beat the current, and were rapidly pushed off-course.

  “We are not going to make it.” Theo said matter-of-factly.

  “Fuck that!” Kyle growled. “push it guys, we still have the chance!”

  “We. Are. Not. Going. To. Make. It.” Theo punctuated with finality, but it was already clear to everyone, Kyle included, that the burnt-out island was rapidly disappearing to their right, while they were being flushed downriver. Worse still, they were running out of stamina. The raft might have been perfectly buoyant, but it was also awkwardly shaped, and instead of cutting through the water it plowed through it, wasting most of their energy.

  For a second, Theo was stumped, unable to decide what to do. He was a man of many skills, and part of his training involved maritime recon and combat. He was an excellent swimmer. If he ditched the group, he could possibly manage to swim to the opposite shore before he was washed out into the open bay spreading on their left. His chances would not be great, but he had beaten worse odds in his long career.

  Kyle made the decision for him. He leaped up on the raft and made it list to starboard, suddenly causing the rest of them to be squeezed between the bow and the foamy waves. Farrukh and Amir were nearly pulled under as the quickly disintegrating pile of bulrush tore out of their grasp and slammed onto them. Jenny shrieked and disappeared underwater, and was only saved by Theo grabbing her by the hair and hauling her up.

  “Guys! Guys!” Kyle shouted to them before they pulled him down in anger. “Trust me on this! We gotta veer it rightwise!” Farrukh tried to push him off the raft, but Kyle slapped his hands away, “fuck off, I know what Im doin’! Been boatin’ around Cape Coral since I was a kid!”

  Theo made up his mind and hopped onto it as well. The rest reluctantly followed. Soon, the mangled remains of the raft were cutting the river flow at a sharp angle. They were still being washed into the bay, but the same force was pushing them closer and closer to the opposite shore.

  It was impossible. The inexorable forces of nature were not on their side. Kyle’s plan was sound, but they simply lacked the strength to push the raft any harder, especially after Jenny exhausted herself. Amir also barely puffed along, his face purple with effort, as if he was about to have a heart failure at any moment. Even Theo himself was too winded to even contemplate ditching them all and trying his luck on his own. Without the raft, Kyle and Farrukh, he would simply faint out of exhaustion before he reached the green shoreline, that looked deceptively close, but could just as well be on the Moon.

  “Shallows!” Kyle pointed at a clump of weeds and debris sticking out of the waves. . “Come on you fucks, we can make it. Just to the shallows, we rest a bit and then- ” he went slack-jawed, his eyes bulging, at the sight of several dark shapes that slid off the shallow strip and rushed towards them. “Fuck! Fucking gators! Move, move, we gotta go faster downstream!”

  “These are not alligators, something worse.” Theo clipped grimly. All of them doubled their efforts, but the idea of going past the shallows and reaching the shoreline before the pack of living torpedoes reached them was absurd. Theo already fought a giant otter once. He only won because the creature was more curious than aggressive and did not expect a sharp antler dagger to the neck. Against a whole pack, they stood no chance. They could neither outrun, nor fight them off, and the pack would be upon them in seconds. The choice had to be made.

  “Push it! I’ll try to fight them off!”

  Theo flipped sideways, and dove under the raft. The water was nearly opaque, but in the green-gray twilight, he saw several dark projectiles speeding towards them. He reached for the long antler dagger at his heap, and readied himself. The second the first otter reached them, he lunged.

  The antler went deep into Amir’s abdomen, and gutted him waist to groin. The Iranian shook, and let go of the raft, spasming. Theo kicked off his shoulder, and pushed himself away from the wolfish jaws of the aquatic predators, which homed in on the blood, and tore into Amir’s ravaged belly.

  Theo emerged on the opposite side of the raft and bellowed,

  “They got Amir! Couldn’t stop them! Push it!, Push it now, they’re distracted!”

  Farrukh roared in rage, and for a second it looked like he was about to leap back and try to save his friend. But it was immediately obvious that it would be suicide. Amir was gone, and in his place was a crimson whirlpool of blood and dark, sleek shapes.

  They all kicked off with desperate speed. Before they reached the shore though, the mangled raft fell apart into chunks too small to support their weight. They leaped forward, trusting nothing but their own swimming skills to give them the few remaining yards. Jenny immediately fell behind.

  “Help! Help-” she managed to yell before she inhaled water. Theo was about to ignore her, but he saw both Kyle and Farrukh turn back. Silly heroic types. He looked back at the pool of carnage behind them, and did not see any otters breaking away from their feast to chase them. Alright. Going back was still within optimal parameters. He dove down and yet again hauled Jenny by the hair. She tried to claw at him but he nimbly moved out of the way, he was not big enough to support both of them above the surface if she grabbed him.

  “Help her to the shore, I’ll take the rear.” He shoved the girl into Kyle’s arms. Farrukh gave a hand, the prospect of death suddenly building a truce between the two cocky males. They dragged half-drowned Jenny up the mangrove-like tangle of willows that littered the shore, and tried to crawl through it.

  Theo went right after, wading through the submerged roots until the water reached only to his waist, when his instincts kicked in. He turned around, antler in one hand, and the bamboo water tube in another. Kyle looked back at him, confused.

  “Cap, come on, what are y-”

  The otter burst out of the water and hit Theo square in the chest, before he had the time to react. The only reason he was not bowled over was that his back slammed against Kyle. He felt the creature's claws dig into his chest, and saw the snarling maw inches from his face. The otter reared like a striking cobra and uttered a hissing growl.

  A so-called normal person would be terrified out of their wits. But Theo was not a normal person. He was a very peculiar person, with a very unusual brain, and a very rare skillset. In the two seconds between the moment the animal burst out of the water and the time it growled at him, Theo had all the time in the world to assess the situation. He understood that wearing a dead otter’s pelt as a loincloth, and being smeared in a dead otter’s scent was probably his great mistake. It’s what set off the animals, which would otherwise likely let them be. He also understood that if the otter simply wanted to kill him, he would be already dead. The rearing and growling was a display of rage, not something a hunting predator would do.

  And thus, the roles of predator and prey would be reversed.

  ‘Should have bit me when you had the chance,’ he thought, allowing himself a half of a second to look into the otter’s black eyes. Then he sprung up like a pneumatic piston, and drove the antler through the animal’s throat, and up its brain. The furry maw spread in a dying rictus, and the beady eyes rolled back, as the otter collapsed on him.

  “Captain!” Kyle bellowed. “Whadda fuck! What!...”

  “Get that darned thing off me, Tee-el. It's a bit heavy.”

  “Jesus!” Kyle was beside himself, heaving the limp animal off Theo. “Bad. Ass. Fuckin’ badass, sir.”

  “Much appreciated Tee-el, but let's make ourselves scarce. The rest of the pack will be here in seconds.”

  They limped away from the shore, Farrukh all but carrying Jenny, Kyle supporting Danton. ‘How annoying’, he thought, his body was not as young as it used to be, and the brief scuffle against the otter did something unpleasant to his lower back. Oh well. Good thing his current Second was a slab of muscle. Occasionally useful to have one of those around.

  They collapsed in the middle of a small clearing, once they were out of sight of the river. He doubted the otters would follow them that far inland, but kept the dagger in hand all the same.

  Farrukh laid on the grass, panting. Kyle crouched, looking at Theo with a mixture of awe and childlike glee. Jenny crawled up to Kyle, cursing under her breath in Cantonese, and cuddled up his side. The boy absentmindedly caressed her head, but his eyes were welded to his new hero.

  “Permission to speak, sir,” he said, with curious formality.

  Theo cocked an eyebrow, he sensed a surprising shift in their relationship, but not an unwelcome one.

  “Granted, Tee-el.”

  “I, well, I mean, we,” Kyle looked at Jenny, but did not grant Farrukh even a passing glance, “we want to thank you, sir. You saved our lives. And you know, sorry for being a dick to you at first. I was confused, you know? What’s with dying and waking up in here, and the wolves, then you show up, but you’re a fuckin’ Brit and all, I mean no insult but- ”

  “It’s fine, Team Leader. Just another thrilling workday for us boots, am I right or am I right?” he gently jabbed Kyle with a finger. “And you did a marvelous job as well, my boy. Civilians… Can’t save them all, but we can save some, and we did, did we not?”

  Kyle beamed.

  “And you fucked up that otter real nice, Cap. You got balls of fuckin’ steel, sir. I half-shat myself when it jumped at us, and you’s like, Stab!, and that bitch was a goner.”

  “Flattery will get you a promotion, Tee-el, and trust me, you do not want that.” Theo faked another smile, but barely so. Kyle radiated sincere enthusiasm, something that grated on his nerves. Why, oh why can’t all his goons be like Joseph! If only that silent scarecrow of a man was here with him, life would be so much easier.

  That thought suddenly vanished, when his brain registered a barely audible noise, then the abrupt, and thus far more concerning, silence. He spoke quietly, without changing his facial expression or the tone of voice, only letting the muscles holding his weapon tighten.

  “Tee-el, listen to me carefully. Do not raise your voice, and do not move a muscle. Miss Láng, Mister Umarov,” he nodded towards Farrukh, “this applies to you two as well. We are being watched.”

  “Otters? Another animal?” Jenny asked, tense.

  “Humans.” Theo paused, listening. “Two, maybe three people. To my left. Behind that copse of knotweed.

  “Why are they hiding?” Kyle asked, faking a stretch, which allowed him to grab a large stick inconspicuously. Not as heavy as his lost club, but good enough. Neither Farrukh or Jenny had anything to arm themselves with, but they both tensed, ready to act. Theo did not dare guess whether it was readiness to fight or run.

  “Go on, ask them, Tee-el.” Theo looked Kyle firmly in the eyes pushing him into action.

  “Hey! We see y'all, come out. We mean no harm.” Kyle shouted at the bushes, brandishing the large stick, incongruously with his words. Farrukh and Jenny rose behind him. Theo started to slowly inch away and to the side, as to not be in line with them.

  For a second, nothing happened, but before Kyle could shout again, there was some more deliberate noise, and a large, plump, red-headed woman emerged from the bushes.

  “You say you mean no harm, lad, but would you mind putting down that stick o’ yours? We’re just a pair o’ harmless old bats. And Im a nun, sae doubly harmless, you ken? No need tae swat at us with that thing.”

  Indeed, now Theo was able to notice that the supposed nun was not alone, a stick-thin South Asian woman was tailing her. Both seemed to be well in their sixties, and not obviously dangerous, even if The Nun looked strong enough to arm-wrestle Kyle. Worse though, she had sharp, intelligent eyes, at odds with her plump face and a jovial smile. The eyes were not smiling, they were judging them cooly, and ever so slightly looking to the right, somewhere behind Theo’s back. He tensed and felt a chill run down his spine.

  “You stop right there, Gran.” Kyle kept his weapon up, and stepped forward. “The Hell were you sneaking up on us? What kinda nun does that?”

  The Nun did not stop, but marched towards Kyle nonchalantly, all broad smiles and grandmotherly warmth. “Oh do calm down, we were scared of ya, is all. Who is tae say you would not hurt us? Only once we saw you had a lass with ya, and she didnae seem distressed, we reasoned it safe to come out. Put the stick down, please.”

  Kyle kept his weapon up, and looked towards Theo, who failed to conceal his anxiety. Something was badly off.

  Whoop! Whoop! Crack!

  Kyle’s stick exploded in his hand, as if shot with a gun. The whooping sound returned, but this time no projectile followed.

  “The lady asked you nicely, boy,” a loud baritone sounded from the green darkness. “Be kind and stand down.”

  Theo gestured for Kyle to drop the remains of the stick. The shadows shifted, and part of the greenery broke away from the treeline, turning into a giant of a man, with a sling in one hand and a spear in another.

  The giant passed Theo, and moved between the Nun and Kyle. For a split second Theo considered pouncing at the man and plunging the dagger in his back, but some primal instinct told him that it would not be that easy. The bearded giant gave off the same calm, deadly vibe as Joseph always did, but magnified.

  Plus, dagger versus spear was just bad odds.

  “Now,” the spearman continued, “let's all calm down, nobody needs to get hurt.” He swept his gaze from Kyle to Theo, his eyes briefly lingering on the latter. Theo looked up into that dark, bearded face, and gave the smallest of nods. Neither of them knew who the other was, but both instinctively recognized another killer. A tentative hierarchy was established without words. Possibly to be updated later, maybe with violent finality.

  “Captain Theodore Danton, Royal Marines,” Theo said, recalibrating his faux British accent to be even more vague. No need for the obviously Scottish woman to see through it. He shoved the dagger back into the makeshift sheath and held out a hand to the giant.

  “Very good!” the big man grinned. “You of the Forty-Fifth, Captain? Angus Lads? I think I saw you in action in Sierra Leone.”

  Theo shook his head with a small smile. He saw a trap and side-stepped it, but by doing so, revealed that he knew the trap was even set, which was a trap of its own.

  “You must be mistaken, chap. Forty-Fifth was in Belize at the time. And I'm a Plymouth Bootneck, Forty-Seventh.”

  “Raiders? Never had the pleasure of working with you, but could have sworn… You did action in Africa though?”

  “Classified”. Theo said, not lowering his hand. “You have me at a disadvantage.” He was enjoying the game nevertheless.

  “Oh. Apologies Captain. Sergeant Yusuf Baba Abdullahi, at your service.”

  “Fellow boot then, splendid. What unit?”

  “The Not Your Business Unit,... sir.” Baba said with a wink.

  Theo cocked an eyebrow. “Touché. Have it your way then, … Sarge.”

  They shook hands, as everybody stared at them, frozen.

  “Goodness lads, are you quite done sizing up yer figgins?” The Nun sighed in exasperation, breaking the tension. “Let us all agree that the posh one’s in charge, the big one right after him, and all we miserable civilians right below.”

  She came between them, patting both men on the shoulder. “Dae not need tae tell you that we are all a little bit scared and doilt. But with the two of you brave soldiers, I am sure we are safe. Now, how aboot we all get tae know each other? Im Mary Brigitte, and as I mentioned, am a nun. Had the misfortune of getting stabbed in the head by one nefarious character and ended up here. My friend over there is Nakry, and I have no idea where she is from. She does not speak English, and she a bit easy tae spook, that one. Be kind with her would ye?”

  They all took turns introducing themselves. Theo gave rapt attention to what they were, and weren’t saying.

  Jenny Láng went on a long speech on how important and successful she was in her life before she ended up dead. She claimed to have had an ‘accident’ but to Theo the circumstances suggested an accidental cocaine overdose. Still, even if half of what Jenny said was true, she could easily be an adept social manipulator, one to keep an eye on.

  Kyle Weathers seemed to be exactly as much of a simpleton as Theo guessed. He boasted about his nascent successful career in amateur mixed-martial arts tournaments and the respectable position he claimed in the Florida Nation’s Militia - the supposed last bastion against the forces of leftist corruption and approaching Jihad. He mumbled about his actual job as an auto mechanic being sabotaged by Latino coworkers who supposedly plotted to crowd out the last White man from the company. He refused to elaborate how he died, But Theo would bet it had something to do with the man’s paramilitary hobbies. In short, he was a confused, racist, small-brained hick with delusions of combat capabilities. He saw that Kyle’s tirade was met with a weary, derisive smile by Baba.

  Farrukh appeared to be the surprising gem in the mud. The hot-headed youth turned out to be Tajikistan’s national championship bronze medalist in archery, and made forays into stuntman work before dying in a motorcycle accident, and waking up in the bushes, deep into the hunting grounds of a wolfpack. He escaped their pursuit, hid in a tree, and found Tammy the day after. Only then he was found by Kyle and his little group of survivors.

  Nakry was… confusing. Theo understood enough Cambodian to know that her particular dialect was from somewhere north of the country, but that was as far as he got. The woman babbled all the time, but the only things he understood was that she ‘was not looking for trouble’, that she ‘was sorry’, and some convoluted things about… weaving? One way or another, the broken woman was no danger and of no use to him either, other than an angle against the far more problematic Nun.

  Regardless, he felt, things seemed to go according to plan for once.