Book 3: Chapter 5: Bushwhacked
Bob
March 2224
Delta Eridani
We hoisted the pigoid carcass up, suspended from spears, doing our best to act oblivious to the other group that we knew were watching us. I checked the monitor windows in my heads-up display. We definitely had a covert audience, and they outnumbered us twelve to six. I couldn’t tell my crew things I shouldn’t know, but I could be prepared in case the others did something unexpected.
As we started our march back to Camelot, I couldn’t help noticing that my crew were really, really terrible actors. Overly loud comments, uttered with exaggerated inflection, would have made a stage director up and quit on the spot.
I needn’t have worried, though. Fred and his gang probably weren’t listening anyway. They stepped out, front and rear, just like last time.
Fred looked at me, standing in lead spot, and smiled his nasty smile. “Well, Robert. I see you’ve caught my lunch for me. And you don’t have the big guy to protect you today. Why don’t you go ahead and put up a fight, this time? I’d like that.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Well, first, Fred, Donald didn’t need to protect me last time. You’re just not very good. And if it’s a fight you’re looking for, today’s your lucky day.”
And with that, eighteen Camelot hunters, including Donald, stepped out of the bush behind Fred’s gang. The Caerleon group went into a defensive crouch. Several of them tried to inch away and had to be poked with spear tips. In short order, we had them herded into a small group.