Free Strain of Resistance (Book 1) by Michelle Bryan Page B

alcohol. They rank up there on our list of priorities along with any sort of food product when out on patrol. Who would’ve thought that finding a stash of ass wipe could be almost as exciting as winning a lottery back in the old days? Kind of funny if you think about it.
    As soon as I have a nice flame burning I put the metal grill over the top, and Badger plunks a tin pot full of water on it, then throws in a couple of chunks of Cookie's dried herb and veggie concoction. It tastes like shit, but the hot soup always fills our grumbling stomachs so none of us complain too much. Well, that and the fact we don't dare complain in case word got back to Cookie. Nobody wants to face that wrath.
    We eat in silence sitting around the makeshift heater, our ears alert for any sound of ravagers having followed us, but it remains quiet. My mind keeps hashing over what Kingsley suggested and wondering if it has any connection with what happened at St. Joseph’s. Hell, maybe those leeches are the people from St. Joseph’s. My mind won't let go of this idea, and finally I voice it out loud to the others. Kingsley stares at me over the flickering flames.
    "Anything’s possible," he responds quietly to my words.
    Gordon stops slurping his soup and looks up.
    "You think so, Kingsley? What really happened at St. Joseph's? Do you even know?"
    Luke chimes in. "Maybe we all should get some rest first before we dive into that can of worms. It's been a long night, and I'm sure we'll think better after some shuteye."
    "No," I say stubbornly. "Cooper said Kingsley would fill us in en route. Now is a good time. How do you expect us to get any sleep with the idea of newly infected bouncing around in our heads? Coop knew more about St. Joseph's than he was willing to admit, isn't that right, Kingsley?"
    I omit mentioning the fear I’d seen in Cooper's eyes. Most of us consider that man a legend. I didn't want to tarnish him with his show of weakness, as much as it had scared me. I'm hoping Kingsley can shed some light as to the reason for that fear.
    The man in question slowly sips his soup, not even looking at us. Almost as if he doesn't know where to start. Finally, decision made, he raises his eyes.
    "Lois left out some of the story. She called us in-Coop and me-as soon as she heard that distress call. The guy was screaming like she said, but he was screaming about monsters. Not ravagers or leeches. Monsters. And there was something else. There was this sound I've never heard a leech make before. You could hear it above the guys screaming. You could hear it as the poor sonofabitch was being ripped apart. I don't know why we could hear it. Maybe his mic was locked on. Maybe it stayed in his hand right up until he died. The radio went silent after that. We thought it was over. But then...then it came back on for a split second, and I can't be sure but I swear we heard the words 'You next.'"
    Gordon puts his tin cup down like he’s suddenly lost his appetite.
    "You next? Like in the Grand is next?" he asks, with bug eyes.
    "I can only assume."
    "So was it ravagers?" I ask. Then more firmly, "Well, it had to be. No leech has the smarts to speak, let alone operate a radio. But how the hell did ravagers get inside? St. Joseph's defenses were just as good, if not better than our own."
    "No, that's the scary part. I don't think it was ravagers at all. You had to have heard this voice—these sounds. They weren't human, I'm certain."
    At first, I think Kingsley is just shittin' with us. But then I see his face. He's not shittin'.
    "You think it was leeches? But leeches can't fucking talk," Dom says, and for the first time in a long time his words aren't filled with his usual arrogance.
    "No leech we’ve ever met, no. But Cooper and I think this is something entirely new. Some new form, some mutation of these leeches maybe? We know they assimilate to their host bodies senses. They use their sense of smell, sight and hearing. Why can't they have