Terry W. Ervin Read Online Free PDF Page B

running,” chuckled Pops Weasel. “In quick order, he did.”
    Road Toad leaned close to Pops Weasel. “Maybe they ran into those panzers. We don’t have islands to retreat to.” Pops considered the troubling thought while Road Toad instructed me. “Now, while they’re still occupied. Aim your quarrel to land among a group of men, a little back from the front.”
    “With the message tied on, I hope it’ll make it across the river.”
    He held his arm at an angle. “Shoot at this elevation.”
    I nodded, already knowing the proper angle to maximize distance. I targeted a circle of men beyond the bridge, beside the nearest blockhouse. After depressing the trigger and feeling the quarrel spring away, I lost sight of it arcing into the darkness.
    “Didn’t see it land in the river,” whispered Pops Weasel. “Goblins didn’t notice. Think they’ll find it, Road Toad?”
    “I hope so. The goblins are returning to positions behind the trees. The zombies are massing forward.” At the risk of revealing our hidden position in the deep brush, Road Toad stood. “I see the ogres. More than you reported, Pops.”
    The bugle sounded again, calling the defenders across the river to position for battle. I reset my crossbow.
    Road Toad took one of my few remaining quarrels and smeared a thin layer of grease on the tip and rubbed in a pinch of salt. “You never know.” He salted our fallen captain’s sword as well.
    “I do,” argued Pops Weasel. “We’re on the wrong side of the river. If they don’t hold the bridge, we’re stuck. If they destroy the bridge, we’re stuck.”
    I had to agree with Pops. “You said they can’t hold. Shouldn’t we get away while they’re fighting?”
    “Maybe, Krish.” said Road Toad. “But why did you join the militia?”
    “To fight the zombies,” I said, surprised by the question.
    “Why do that?”
    “Because they’d run rampant through the Doran Confederacy.”
    “And?” asked Road Toad in leading tone.
    “You know,” I said, not playing into his game.
    “Right, I do know. Killing everyone and everything in sight. Destroying villages, towns, homes and farms.” He paused. “Why did you come? Why not let someone else fight?”
    I recalled Guzzy telling me of the excitement and adventure, and of afternoons we’d spend learning to fight instead of laboring in the fields. But that wasn’t why. “Guzzy, Harvid and I made a good zombie picket team. Lord Hingroar called upon us to defend his lands, and our homes.”
    “The rest of your team dead?” asked Pops Weasel.
    Road Toad sent a glare at the older mercenary, silencing him. “Krish, we may need to help them hold the bridge, at least until they destroy it.”
    Pops Weasel grunted, checked his gear, and mumbled to himself.
    “That’s okay, Pops,” said Road Toad. “We’ll catch up with you.”
    “You’re thinking during the battle you’ll sneak close and make a run for it, across that bridge. Ain’t gonna happen, Road Toad.”
    Road Toad firmly patted Pops on the shoulder. “We run faster than you. We’ll make it.”
    Pops Weasel squinted at me. “Good luck, young Krish. Don’t let him get’cha killed. I’d hate having to cut you down as a walkin’ dead.” He nodded to Road Toad, and backed away into the foliage-filled darkness.
    With Guzzy around, I’d never considered the possibility of being killed and spelled into a zombie. I felt sick, realizing it might happen to me, this very night.
    Road Toad must have seen the revelation cross my face. “Don’t worry, Krish,” he whispered, again focusing on the opposing forces whose calls had begun faltering toward silence. “Most necromancers don’t have the power to create a zombie from a healer.”
    I hadn’t known that, but I was barely a neophyte healer. I didn’t want to discuss it, so I whispered back, “Why are you staying? You’ve no family or lands nearby.”
    “Because I’m good at fighting.” He winked. “And I intend to earn