I went back over to my kit and lay down. My head was still buzzing with the after feelings of adrenalin and pain. I pulled out my machete and pistol, keeping them in my hands as I tried to go to sleep, malicious thoughts putting a smile on my face, but the sound of people kept me awake. I rolled over and came face to face with my mask.
I had finished it before the riot had broken out and had just lain down and closed my eyes when a hand was over my mouth and more were tugging at my body. Three of them had been tossed aside and the last had had a nasty bruise to side of his head, courtesy of my fist. I had leapt out of bed and onto one of the three and started to squeeze the life from their throat, until someone else came around from behind and caught up both my arms in an arm lock against my back. The last of the three had gone to start punching me in the stomach, but, using the one holding me, I lifted my feet and pushed them, and my handler, over. I let the momentum of the fall crack the back of my head into my assailant’s nose getting a small crack and cry of agony. I had slipped out of their grip and stood up, my head hurt and I was tired, but the adrenaline was coursing through my veins and I could see a similar scene across the camp as john had thrown someone into a tent with a cry of rage and as four more circled him and lunged.
I looked down at the three who had tried to subdue me, and realised there was one missing. I turned around and something had smacked me in the face, sending me to the ground. I had scrabbled in the dirt as two large figures pushed their weight into my back and started to tie my hands together. As they lifted me up I swung out with my feet and felt something connect, there was a loud crack and the sound of someone crumpling to the ground, ‘and serves them right’ I thought and was pulled backwards into the centre of the shed, a gag was shoved into my mouth and I saw john being tied up, three people keeping him down and the fourth tying his hands behind his back. As I was pulled through the door they had started pulling him along as well, although his bulk proved to be far heavier than my own.
And now here I was lying down on my sleeping bag, having given Michaela my swag, and unable to find sleep. I don’t know what always possessed me to be nice to people I hardly knew, but I was sure it was something to do with the whole ‘ladies first’ thing that had been drilled into me, as well as the simple ‘offer what you can, when you can’ thing life on the farm gave you.
I rolled over again and caught the scent of fresh blood, my blood. I lifted a hand to my forehead and it came away sticky. The bastards really did a number on me, nothing I couldn’t take but still a number. I pushed myself into a sitting position and looked around. People had finally layn down and gone to sleep except for the bitten’s group, who had, wisely in my opinion, put up two guards around their perimeter. A small smile tweaked at my lips, but I stamped it down. ‘GOD DAMN IT’ I thought, ‘bloody emotions, getting the better of me’ I got out of the sleeping bag and, using the shadows, I snuck over behind the two guards. As I passed behind them I saw they were both from the group who had attacked me, I carefully sheathed my machete and holstered my gun, before tapping them both on the shoulder, “Surprise!” I said quietly, and punched them both in the head, right in the soft spot to the sides of their eyes. Their heads clacked together and they fell to the ground, out cold. I stepped over their prone, unconscious bodies and got back onto my sleeping bag, making sure that my machete was in hand before I closed my eyes and drifted into a not so easy sleep.
The next morning was chaos as people were still arguing over last night’s ‘festivities’. I had woken early and, deciding I wanted nothing to do with anyone at the time, had climbed a tall tree and perched on a thick branch, waiting for the first shot to be fired and for Jayden and John to calm the people. I watched everyone, saw everything and kept tabs on everyone’s behaviour. I had tried to let Michaela keep my rifle so that everyone still had a weapon, but she preferred the art of close combat. I was starting to like her more and more. So I gave her my bayonet instead. My bow was in my hands and an arrow notched, just in case and my rifle strapped to my back. No one seemed to have figured out where I had gone and only a few seemed to have realised I was missing, Jayden, John and some of the Bitten, looking around, worry clearly evident on their faces.
I made myself comfortable in anticipation for a long wait, or a blood bath whichever came first.