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The sergeant held up his hand, closing it into a fist and Cas held Henna back, pulling her down to a squat. She saw the sergeant tilt his head, taking in the scene before holding up two fingers, then making a chopping motion with his flattened hand. As though released from a leash, Davies and Rodrigues crouch-walked toward the open gates of the facility, rifles swinging in practiced, precise movements.

As they reached the checkpoint, one glanced inside. More hand movements passed between them, everything in silence, and they slipped into the compound beyond. They soon disappeared from sight and Henna began to worry. She couldn't hear any Screamers close by, but they had proven more than adept at finding them wherever they were, no matter how far they ran. The Screamers would come and it looked the five of them were the only people alive here.

"Move on up." A low growl from the sergeant made Cas move in an instant, pulling Henna up to a crouch. "Eyes open. I'm gonna assume, ma'am, that you know how to use that rifle. Anything moves, you target the body. Don't bother about no heads, leave that to us."

The sergeant led the way, reaching the checkpoint and then crouching down again. He, like the others, glanced inside the checkpoint, leaving nothing to chance and showing nothing of what he had seen inside. Henna looked around the compound, taking in the low buildings, the towering satellite dish that loomed above them, the several trucks. Most of all, she stared at the bodies.

Soldiers and Screamers littered the ground. All dead. The Screamers riddled with bullets. Soldiers ripped apart. Pieces of bodies lay scattered around the compound. Empty shell casings were everywhere and so was the blood. So much blood that the tarmac and dusty ground had become a patchwork of black and deep, dark red. By her knees, she saw one patch of blood and dipped her finger in it. Not dried, but not entirely fresh. Whatever had happened here, it had probably occurred hours ago.

"Nothing alive on the perimeter, Sergeant. Buildings locked." One of the soldiers, Rodrigues, returned without a sound, causing Henna to start. "Maybe survivors inside."

"Well, alright." Rising to his feet, the sergeant took another look in the checkpoint booth and grimaced. "Take Davies and shiv every brain. Every brain. These fuckers are resilient. Courier, ma'am, I'm gonna need you to help secure the compound. See those trucks? I want as many as you can lined up against this fencing. Close the gate, chain it if you can find some, and bring that van in here. We're going to need that weaponry."

Rodrigues had already disappeared and Cas began to move, too, heading back to the tac-van. Uncertain what to do, knowing it didn't take two to bring the van into the compound, Henna headed toward the nearest truck, looking over her shoulder only once to see the sergeant lean into the checkpoint, large, serrated knife in hand, and thrusting it down twice.

She wasn't certain the tactics of closing themselves into the compound, nor the efficacy of placing the trucks against the fences, but, she had to admit, she wasn't a soldier. The Screamers weren't only resilient, they retained a certain amount of intelligence and the trucks were high off the ground. Screamers could easy crawl under the beds of those trucks, but perhaps that was the point. If they were crawling, they weren't running and could make easier, slower targets.

If the number of Screamers, that were inevitably on their way, attacked the place, again, their chances of survival were low. Very low. She could only hope the reason Cas had been tasked to come here could bring an end to the madness before the Screamers tore them apart, as they had everyone else here.

It took some time, but everything the sergeant ordered came to pass. They were now locked in this place and Henna could already hear Screamers in the distance, that eerie, never-ending sound echoing from the mountaintops. In the centre of the compound, she saw the soldiers, Cas included, talking among themselves, wiping knives that had seen more work than Henna could imagine.

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