There was no screaming, no loss of discipline. The chaff was gone only the fighters were left. But my people - the 141st Massachusetts Volunteer Company - had been through this all before. A retreat could easily turn into a rout without a single blow falling. This was the most dangerous moment the enemy was slow, but men would lose their minds near wights, and run screaming. Third platoon, closest to the wights, began to pull back. He began walking down the road toward the rest of the company. I shot Jack an angry look, but the moon was behind me, so he didn't see it. Even with a blessing, our guns were hardly lethal to the wights. "What, should I pray harder?" Jack Griffin asked, leaning against his tank. "But a hundred we will not destroy tonight." "With God's help we may win free if we are surrounded," he said, shaking his head sadly. They were clear eyes, undaunted by the horrors they had seen but they were bloodshot with weariness as well. "There are at least a hundred of them," I said. No shooting unless you have to." I clicked the radio off and looked at Father O'Malley, who sat next to me, whispering a prayer. "Wait until they're close, then withdraw. I leaned against a tree, listening to a storm of chatter in my earpiece. A shot through the heart of a wight would knock it back some, but then it would keep coming. Without a blessing, our bullets weren't much good against them. They wouldn't stray from their path until they found us - smelled us, some people said. It was like they had just been given a direction and sent off.
Nowadays, I thought, it was an advantage for our side we always knew when the wights were near.Įvery night they came out of the city, seeking what was left of humanity. For a night in the middle of summer, it was awfully cold.
0 kommentar(er)
