Deadland's Harvest
“Don climbed to his feet. No one spoke while we waited to see how big a herd we had to deal with. Finally, a single shape emerged. We all let out a collective sigh.
Maggie’s hand fluttered over her heart. “Oh, thank God.”
The huge, mangy wolf—or large dog; it was too hard to tell from this distance—stepped out from the shadows, eyed us as though deciding which would be easier prey, and then slowly turned to follow the deer. The deer had made a large U-turn around us and stopped only a couple hundred meters from where we stood. Wolves had multiplied since the outbreak. Large dogs were now joining their ranks, and these new packs feared neither humans nor zeds. Both became their dinner.
Once the wolf was a safe distance away and no others appeared, I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“Anyone in the mood for some venison for dinner?” Jase said from atop the Humvee.
I glanced at Clutch, and his lips curved upward.
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