30 Minute Plan - 15
The gunshot jerked him erect again and he looked up to see Simpson pressed against the wall behind him, his head against a giant red Rorschach blot. His eyes were half-lidded and he was gone before his butt hit the floor.
Tarver holstered his other gun and turned back to the dogs.
"The same for every single one of you. If you cannot die with honor, you will still die with dignity. I will not abide Ziggy amongst any of our ranks, either former or present. Neither will you. We will approach Ziggy without animosity, without hate, but with the certainty that we will absolutely do to him what he would not hesitate to do to us."
By the time they'd reached the base Danton was a full-fledged dog. He'd been ready to take on Ziggy but General Tarver had been cautious, negotiating them away from Ziggy as often as possible. But eventually they'd had to engage and Danton had acquitted himself well. He didn't know if anyone else kept count, but he'd personally slaughtered seven ziggies.
The last one had been the hardest.
Danton felt his anger ease and he was able to think more clearly, though the first thought that popped into his mind was a pipe dream: killing that brain Boyle. On the one hand he felt he was doing what was the right thing in finding and destroying Cargill, but on the other he felt his hand had been forced, like he'd been manipulated into handling this all wrong.
Either way Cargill would be destroyed. But he hoped Boyle wouldn't be far behind.
Danton smelled something. Lemons! He ducked behind a section of sidewalk that was standing almost vertically out of the ground. The ground in a forty foot radius was deeply pitted as if it had rained fire here. A moment later and he began to hear the groans of Ziggy.
The lemon scent swelled in his nose. This was definitely them. He drew his machetes. Danton didn't have enough ammo to put them all down and he didn't care to anyway. He was only doing this to get to Cargill. Ziggy could be caught off guard and if he gave them the bum's rush he could get away with his skin still intact.
They were twenty feet past, walking to his right when he spotted Cargill right in the middle, eyes straight. He estimated thirty so far. This was going to be harder than he thought, but still doable. They were in an ovular pattern and Cargill was three or four bodies in.
Danton rushed them, slicing off the first two ziggies' heads. One of them grabbed his shoulder and he spun and sliced off its hands. Another ziggy lunged and his blade sliced through its head and eyes, blinding it. He shoulder bumped the last one between him and Cargill and was about to bring both his machetes down on his brother's head when he saw Cargill's eyes.
He was alive.
