Jak and Dean each carried another pair of turkeys, and the albino had managed to get seven rabbits. They’d moved lightning quick through the brush, but Jak had been death in motion. Dean carried a pouch with close to two dozen frogs in it that were eating size.
The brush around the campsite had been cleared, and the companions sat around the fires. J.B. kept watch over Elmore, Morse and his sons and the others, the Remington shotgun draped loosely across his knees. A big metal tub sat on top of one of the two fires, the twisting flames licking out from beneath it and scorching the metal black.
“Too many bastard fires,” Ryan grumbled, dropping the dead turkeys to the ground. “Light this place up and somebody else sees it, we’re fucked.”
“We keep running around without clothes,” Mildred told him, “we could be in trouble, too.” She stirred the contents of the big metal tub with a fresh-cut branch as thick as Ryan’s wrist. “And wearing them all covered in dog shit is pretty stupe. Lot of animals like the smell of shit, and it’s kind of hard to move around unnoticed.”
“Thought about trying to wash the clothes out in the river, lover,” Krysty said. “But that would have meant whoever did the washing would be fighting leeches the whole time. And the leeches would have been all through the clothes.”
Ryan knew it was true and didn’t say anything more. The scent of soaps and scouring powders tickled his nose. He crouched over one of the turkeys and started pulling feathers. Krysty joined him.
Jak and Dean both started gutting their kills, dropping the intestines into the river so the current would take them away. They also added everything that they wouldn’t be cooking. Burning it or burying it in the ground was an option, too, but the river offered the cleanest way to get rid of it.
Krysty tore at the feathers with a vengeance.
“How’re you feeling?” Ryan asked in a low voice that didn’t carry any farther than between the two of them.
“I’ve got a headache that won’t quit.” Her face looked pale in the mix of firelight and moonlight. A slight tremble worked through her hands.
“Any voices?”
She shook her head hesitantly, and with care. “Phlorin’s quiet for the most part now.”
“Mebbe she’s going away.”
“I think mebbe she’s just resting up, waiting for me to get a little weaker.”
Ryan didn’t like thinking about that. He took the panga out when they had the first turkey stripped clean, then carried the kill over to the river. He rasped the sharp blade against the big bird’s ass to open up the body cavity, then reached inside and pulled the mass of coiling guts out. They splashed into the water, tangling out like bloody ropes that sank in places.
“Hot pipe, Dad!” Dean called. “Look!” The boy pointed out into the water, blood dripping red stains into the river from the tip of his knife.
It took Ryan a moment to see what Dean was talking about, expecting to see something breaking the river’s surface. Instead, he spotted the luminous dots hanging suspended in the water despite the gentle current. Before he drew his next breath, he knew they were eyes.
As he watched, the luminous blue eyes glided toward the bank, drawn to the blood and waste. Large jaws distended, revealing long yellow fangs. They tore into the discarded intestines and body parts with savage relish, shredding flesh.
“You might want to watch yourself,” Morse called out in his gruff voice. “Some of them damn piranha grew legs around here and learned how to come crawling out on the bank when they’ve a mind to.”
“Now there’s a cheery thought,” Elmore grunted in disgust.
“J.B.,” Ryan called.
“I heard,” the Armorer responded.
“Let’s make sure we let Doc know when he gets back.”
“It’ll make for interesting guard duty,” Mildred commented sourly.
“Can you eat them?” Dean asked, as he continued watching the fish.
Ryan knew it was a sensible question, and probably one of the most directly related to their continued survival.
“Those bastard fish carry a poison with them,” Bud said. “Get it from the contaminated water. Mebbe you get lucky and drink from the water and the worst you might get is a night of belly cramps. But you eat them fish, you’re more than likely good as dead.”
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