Free The Rising Dead by Stella Green Page B

the women into the truck and leave, but the truck won’t start. With luck the coyotes will be confused and run for the jeeps, where we’ll surprise them.”
    As plans went, it had some good points. It even sounded logical, but it was still suicide. Even if it all worked, they were hopelessly outnumbered, and these hardened criminals weren’t likely to panic or stay confused for long. If their timing was perfect, Matt and the Stranger would have about three minutes before the coyotes were tellingeach other to get the guys hiding behind the jeeps. Still, getting the traffickers out in the open would give the women a chance to escape. If the coyotes hunkered down in the house, there would be no way other than fire to get them out. Matt remembered the chained girls in Breckenridge and knew that wouldn’t go well for the hostages.
    “They leave the keys in the trucks.”
    Matt and the Stranger turned to look at Maria. “I remember because I thought you wouldn’t do that in Guatemala or Mexico. They are very comfortable here.”
    Matt nodded. He could drive with his right hand and swing an ax with his left. “Can you drive?” he asked the Stranger.
    “I learned in 1946 just after the war.”
    “I’ll start the fire.” Maria looked quite confident now.
    Both men said, “No!”
    “You’ll stay here and not move. No matter what.” The Stranger turned to Matt. “We can take the keys out of the trucks. Then we’ll drive the jeeps and go for the ones with automatic weapons first. We have to get them in the beginning to have any chance.”
    Matt paused to think. “You start the fire and get in your jeep. I’ll get the keys and get in mine. When we’re both in our jeeps…”
    “Then I yell, ‘
La migra.
’” The Stranger was nodding. “Your ax isn’t long enough for this. There might be something else in the barn.”
    Matt’s fingers slid over the head of his ax. The edge was sharp enough to shave with. He’d rather have it than some rotten rake. Still, they had a better plan. No real chance of survival, but a plan that would cause chaos and hopefully remove enough smugglers to save the women stuck in that ranch house. To pass the time until the lightswent out, Matt and the Stranger studied the ranch, trying to plan every move, count every coyote. The Stranger estimated the distances between the jeeps and the buildings. They refined their plans even though both understood that with all the variables, this would be more brawl than military campaign.
    A rustling noise behind them caused both of them to jump to their feet with weapons ready. When the Stranger quietly stepped back to circle around, a fox ran from beneath a bush. It stopped to growl at Matt. He swung the ax in front of its face to frighten it, but instead the creature bared its teeth and approached. “Okay. We can do it the hard way.” Matt turned his ax so the blade was away from the fox and started his back swing. The animal growled and walked off, unhurried.
    “What does it mean?” whispered Maria. Her voice was trembling.
    “Sometimes a fox is just a fox.”
    She looked unconvinced, but she exhaled and nodded.
    “You and your damn animals.” Matt muttered in the Stranger’s direction.
    The Stranger shrugged, but Matt was pretty sure he heard him choke back a chuckle.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    The barn’s dark interior was difficult to navigate in the starlight. Going only by touch, Matt quickly found a scythe. A few inches away was an old pitchfork, along with rakes and shovels. It was a barnyard armory. The Stranger was also having good luck. He handed Matt the wheel of a tilling machine. It was not much bigger than a Frisbee and just a bit thicker than a pencil, but it was iron and the long teeth that stuck out along its circumference like the arms of a star were still pointed. There were eight of the discs stacked in a corner. They gathered everything they could carry.
    Something caught Matt’s foot, and as he stumbled the tools clanged