Arisen, Book Six - The Horizon by Glynn James, Michael Stephen Fuchs Page B

on duty, but both of the Zulu-sniffing dogs were at their post – both looking tragically abandoned and forlorn behind their wire mesh. She took the time to feed and water them both. And then she set them free.
    She didn’t know what else to do.
    * * *
    Charlotte watched the Potemkin Village that was Hereford fall away beneath her, as she turned her Apache back toward the east. She’d had to refuel and rearm the damned thing herself. The fueling was okay, but rearming was not a one-woman job, even if she’d remembered very well how to do it.
    But none of that mattered now. She was back in the air. And, even if alone, she was safe.
    Her prior mission on the line had been her last scheduled for a while, according to the CentCom battle controllers. So she didn’t have to go back there. But she couldn’t stay here.
    And ahead of her, out there somewhere, was her home squadron – 1 Regiment Army Air Corps, based at Wattisham Airfield. This was in Suffolk, nearly on the east coast of England – but at least a bit to the north.
    Captain Charlotte Maidstone said a silent prayer that the airfield still stood. If it didn’t, she had no idea where she was going to land this thing.
    But there was nothing else for her to do.
    It was time to go.

No Fox Among the Chickens
    Britain – West Sussex
    Alan edged carefully toward the movement in the bushes, his shotgun aimed at the rustling of leaves. This was it, what he had been trying to achieve for days, to finally catch it. The damned thing had been roaming the woods around the farm for weeks now and he’d lost a dozen chickens already.
    The movement in the bushes stopped, the leaves going still, and he took a deep breath and stopped moving. It must have sensed his approach, he figured, and any movement now would completely screw it up. There was far too much cover here, and way too many bolt holes for it to run to. And if it was disturbed and fled, as it had already done a number of times, then he was likely to miss again. And he’d only get one shot. The dog was so damned fast that if he missed it would be away and running, and out of range before he could reload.
    If only he’d taken Tessa’s advice and bought a bolt action instead, then he’d have a second shot if needed. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it, and with the gun restrictions lifted he could have bought an assault rifle if he’d wanted. When the ZA hit the world, and the military from other countries started making the UK their home, they’d brought with them all manner of guns. Alan smiled – if there was one thing you could count on the Americans for it was a lot of hardware. Ammunition, that was the problem, as well as the reason he’d stuck to his single-barrel shotgun. He had a few hundred shells stored away in boxes in the house, more than enough to keep him in good supply, and to deal with the occasional wild dog that moved into the area.
    The leaves rustled again, and Alan lifted the shotgun, slowly, and took aim. Should he just let rip? The blast of birdshot wouldn’t be likely to miss in such a small area anyway, but he didn’t fire. He wanted to see the thing before he ended its life.
    The wild dogs were a new problem that had appeared not long after the zombies. There hadn’t been many outbreaks in the UK, and those that did occur had been very small and were stamped out before they spread. But when the rationing started to bite, many people began hoarding their food and prepping for the worst. And even though Alan hated it, he knew this meant that for some, the family dog was booted out to reduce the number of mouths to feed.
    Damned stupid city folk , he thought. What happened to that phrase… what was it? A pet is for life… something like that. Well, those people kicked out their best buddies pretty damned quickly, just to save a few tins of food, when times were suddenly hard. He’d never do that to his dogs, no chance. And the thought of his three Border Collies, huddled up next