Little Things

“Ow! You little bugger!” Jake slapped the mosquito from his arm with several choice curses and nearly broke his leg tripping over debris on the road. A long string of curses filled the air.

“Jake, shut up! You wanna bring ‘em all down on us? We barely escaped the last bunch.”

He forced the anger down deep within, favoring his left leg and trying to ignore the rising itch on his arm. They were right. They were far from the nearest enclave, but that was no guarantee of safety. The dead never tire...