Flesh Eaters

Dogs and Hostiles

Chapter 23 - Dogs and Hostiles

*Grey's POV*

"What's her name," Murphy asks standing behind me.

I stand quietly thinking. What would be a good name for a child born into this hell. A world where hope is hard to find.

"Does Hope sound good?"

Murphy smirks, "The world could always use a little more hope these days."

I smile and adjust little Hope in my arms. She's finally stopped crying. She stares up at me tiredly with her watery blue eyes.

"How are we going keep her safe? I mean we have nothing that a baby needs. We need formula, diapers, baby clothes. We have nothing."

Murphy reaches around me and gently take Hope from me. He nestles her small, little, body in the crook of his arm. With his other hand he adjust the blanket covering Hope. "It'll be alright. We'll find everythin' she needs."

Hope reaches up and wraps her tiny hand around Murphy finger. Murphy let's a small grin slip onto his face as he gently rocks her. "Isn't that right Hope? We'll get ya everythin' ya need," He coos.

I smile at the sight. A rough guy, afraid to show his emotions, cuddling up to a new born baby. Maybe this is what he needs.

"We need to get moving," Baird says interrupting my thoughts.

"I'll drive," Murphy grumbles as he hands Hope back to me.

I take her and follow after Murphy. Baird trails behind me. We step out of the warm stale air of the house and into the cold still air of the yard.

I snuggle Hope closer to my chest, blocking the cold from her fragile body. I glance up at the bare trees around us and find the crows are now gone. I drop my gaze to my feet and notice something.

Freezing in place I study my find. Among the dry leaves sits a tuff of brown fur. I adjust Hope, freeing one hand. Crouching down I pick the fur up. It's still warm to the touch meaning whatever it belongs to isn't far.

I straighten back up and listen.

"Ya comin' Grey," Murphy asks.

"Shh," I say, "listen."

Somewhere in the cold, still, air I hear the panting of a dog and a hushed rattle of a chain. Leaves softly crunch as something attempts to move silently. Whispers drift around us, coming from no particular direction.

Next to me Baird stiffens. "We're being hunted," he whispers.

"By what?"

"People. We need to get out of here, quietly."

I nod and walk lightly but quickly to the truck. Just as I reach the door a voice booms.

"Don't move, we have sights on everyone of you."

I freeze with my hand resting on the trucks door. Across from me, on the other side of the truck, Murphy stares at me. Behind the protective look he gives me, furry burns brightly.

"Lay down all your weapons," the voice commands.

"And what if we don't," Murphy shouts back.

"We'll let the dogs go. Now, lay down your weapons."

I look to Murphy wondering what his plan is. He holds his crossbow up. His eyes flick around, searching for the voice.

"Last chance, lay down you weapons."