Wyatt slipped under the pier into the murky water of the canal. He flinched a little thinking of the germs crawling into the mostly healed wounds on his body. Even a slight opening could mean infection. He made a mental note to give himself a hefty shot of antibiotics.

Braden had to know now he was dealing with more than local fishermen, but he still was not thinking like a soldier. He hadn’t found their classified files and learned who he was dealing with; again, meaning Whitney wasn’t giving him aid. Wyatt knew that because his sister-in-law, Flame, was hell on wheels with a computer and she would have warned him if his file had been compromised.

Keep talkin’ so we know who needs help. Wyatt gave the standard order.

Two approaching from the south, Trap said. They’re moving through the trees, but they’re not coming in stealthy. They have big guns and they’re big boys.

Remember the extra bone. I don’ know what Braden mixed with it, but I shot that son of a bitch and knifed him. He kept gettin’ back up, Wyatt reminded.

So aim for the Adam’s apple, Draden said. See how thick that armor plate is.

The eye, the ear, Trap said. Interesting to see what they’re made of.

If Wyatt could have rolled his eyes underwater, he would have. Of course Trap would want to autopsy one of the soldiers, dissect him and start figuring out just what Braden did to them.

They heal incredibly fast, Wyatt reiterated. He’s got them on some kind of supercharged drug to make that happen.

I’ll get blood samples, Trap said, meaning it.

Trap was a ghost moving through the woods. They’d never see him until he was on them. He went into camps alone and came out when everyone was dead. Wyatt had never figured out how a man who could heal the way Trap was able to could kill without repercussions. Trap never seemed to have any.

Don’ let anyone get close to the house, Wyatt cautioned.

Ezekiel was already making his way along the bottom of the canal, straight for the boat coming silently toward them. Wyatt followed close, keeping at Ezekiel’s left shoulder, feeling for creatures in the water and broadcasting strongly for them to stay away. The boat was being powered by oars, moving very slowly so as not to create noise.

The moment they were near the boat, Ezekiel went under it, hugging the bottom, Wyatt beside him. They both stood at the same time, using powerful thighs and enhanced muscles to upend the boat and send the two soldiers flying into the water. Zeke yanked the automatic out of the nearest soldier’s hands and was on him immediately. He took a breath and dragged the soldier under.

Wyatt swept the legs out from under the other soldier as he turned toward his partner, trying to get a clear shot at his attacker. He went under, but kept his hold on the automatic. Wyatt hooked him with a vicious grip around his throat. At the same time, he brought his knife up and slammed it into the man’s left eye.

Blood in the water, he warned.

The soldiers fought to get free. Neither had the ability to stay under anywhere near as long as Wyatt and Ezekiel, but they were strong and they used their bodies and legs to try to propel their attackers backward, to make them lose footing so they could rise to the surface for air.

Wyatt plunged the knife again, looking for any soft spot he could think of. One where there might not be a covering of bone. Go low with the knife, thigh, calves, crotch. Go for the soft parts, eyes, mouth, try the throat.

Blood ran like a river and still both soldiers fought. In the end, it wasn’t the loss of blood or the hideous wounds, it was the fact that neither could reach the surface for air. They simply drowned. Wyatt felt the soldier’s frantic fight and then the last desperate heave for freedom before he seemed to succumb to the water filling his lungs.

Still, he didn’t let go. He didn’t dare. The last soldier he’d walked away from kept coming back. He wasn’t making that mistake again. Ezekiel seemed to feel the same way. They stayed very still, holding the two soldiers in a choke hold beneath the surface of the water.

Alligator comin’ in, Wyatt reported. Stay still. He’s goin’ to bump you. Just checkin’ you and then he’ll go for the wounds.

I’m holding him off, Wyatt, but we need to get these two in the boat and make it back to help the others, Ezekiel said. You got a pulse there?

I don’ feel one. Let’s do it. When we’re in the boat, we’ll search them, just to make sure they don’ have any weapons they can get to if Braden found a way to resurrect them once they’re dead.

He’s probably got a shock collar on them, Ezekiel said. You go first, Wyatt, dump the body in and climb in. I’ll keep this guy at bay until you do.

Wyatt knew enough to hurry. That much blood in the water was going to attract more than one alligator and it could get ugly fast. He went to the surface, trusting Ezekiel to keep the alligator from grabbing at his legs while he hoisted the soldier’s body back into the boat and then pulled himself in.

Ezekiel was fast, dumping the second body while Wyatt was stripping the soldier of all weapons. Ezekiel followed suit and then took up an oar. Wyatt used the other one and they guided the boat back to the pier.

Wyatt took one last look at the dead soldiers. They’re not breathin’. No heartbeat. No pulse. Nothin’ at all. That doesn’ mean they’ll stay that way. They could rise any minute, the new zombie warriors. Maybe it’s Braden whose gonna be responsible for the zombie apocalypse.

Ezekiel glanced at him, shook his head, his mouth twitching as he tied to the boat to the pier. They look dead to me. I don’t think they’re getting back up, Wyatt.