Page 27 of Tracking the Alpha
“I’m impressed you not only survived but seemed to have thrived. What have you been eating?”
A question Barrett would have preferred to avoid; however, he saw no point in lying. Tanis had already seen him at his most savage. “I craved meat from day one. Initially, I ate only small creatures because that’s all I could catch. Squirrels and rabbits, even a few chipmunks, which were barely worth the effort. They didn’t come close to satisfying my hunger. Deer, on the other hand…” His belly and mouth had never been so happy as when he’d eaten that first big meal. Not to mention his pride at having tracked and hunted it down.
“Mmm. Venison,” Tanis groaned. “Love myself a hunk of backstrap. Elk’s pretty good, too.”
“I’ve not seen any of those in these parts. Almost tasted a bear, though.”
“It got away?”
“No. One of Davidson’s damned hunters interrupted before I could finish the kill and have a bite.”
“Bear’s all right, but if you want a real treat, bison is the way to go.”
For some reason the conversation had him chuckling.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“This. Discussing wild game as if I weren’t eating mine raw and fresh from the kill.”
“If it helps, I eat most of mine barely singed on the outside.”
In the darkness where she couldn’t see his face—or his vulnerability—he asked, “Why aren’t you more freaked out by my situation?”
“What would be the point? You didn’t become a wild predator on purpose. As for your diet, it sounds normal for a wolf.”
“I killed people.” He stated it starkly rather than hiding his actions.
“You took out those who would have harmed you. I would have done the same. When it comes to survival, you can’t be squeamish. My grandmother taught me that.”
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Sounding like a whiny cunt,” he said with a sigh. “I used to be the guy who led his section into war zones and fended off insurgents and shot people in the line of duty, not bitching and moaning about the shit life dished out.”
“I think you’re doing surprisingly well, considering. If it were me, I’d probably have been more like that coyote. Rabid and out for blood.”
Her words made him wonder, would the others in his section, his friends-in-arms, be rational like him, or insane and incapable of returning to their humanity?
“What’s wrong?” As if sensing the somber turn of his thoughts, she reached out and lightly touched his knee. The warmth of it had him admitting his greatest fear.
“Just thinking about the others being held prisoner and wondering how many of them kept their sanity.”
“No way of knowing until we break them out.”
A snort escaped him. “As if that will ever happen.”
“Never say never. Weren’t you the one saying you stuck around so you could find a way?”
“Yeah, I said that, but I’m not stupid. I know it’s impossible. I’m a good soldier, but, like you said, I’m no Rambo. I can’t win against an army.” It would be a suicide mission, which he’d admittedly contemplated when despondency overwhelmed.
“How many soldiers does the general have guarding that military installation?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m surprised. Haven’t you been out here for weeks? Surely, you’ve scouted the facility he’s using.”
“I have, but Davidson is a wily fucker. He’s got all kinds of nasty scents layered around the place so I can’t get an accurate count.”
