DANTE
"One, two, three… four," I kicked at the remains of one of the guards whose face was planted into the earth, turning him over.
I gagged as the horrid stench of decaying flesh wafted into my nose. I pinched the bridge of my nose and turned away as I heard the echo of footsteps behind me.
"What happened?" he asked, looking around the area filled with tall, ancient trees and shrubs thick enough to hide in.
We were at the border. The one that bound my pack house to the Nightbreed tribe—those savages.
"They are dead," I answered, as though he couldn't see they weren't living anymore.
"Of course, I see that," he muttered. "I mean, why are there about six people dead, and it looks like they've been killed for a long time?"
That was my thought too. They didn't die today. It looked like it had happened days ago. They were already decaying, and soon maggots would begin spilling out of them.
My stomach churned at the thought. I stumbled backward, puffing breaths in and out.
