Jonah followed along behind Miller in the pickup at a slow rumble, rocking back and forth in his seat as the grass was crunched underneath the tires as the vehicle rolled over gentle slopes. Ahead of him, Miller was struggling to keep up with Royce in the dark, who stalked across the pasture at a near trot, nose to the ground as he followed a scent trail only he was aware of. Twice he seemed to pause as if unsure, only for Miller to give him another sniff of the sweater, prompting the Dutch Shepherd to once again trot forward with renewed confidence.
It wasn't long before Royce froze in his tracks, eyes locked toward a slope ahead of him, muscles tense. Miller looked confused, turning back toward Jonah and signaling for him to stop. Decker nodded, shifting the truck into park before grabbing his rifle and stepping out to approach the man. "What've you got?"
Miller turned toward him anxiously, fiddling with the safety on his rifle. "That's him alerting to a potential threat," he said, nodding toward Royce who now bared his teeth while continuing to stare at the hill in front of them. "You hear that?"
Jonah paused, tilting his head to listen closely. After a moment, he heard it: a chorus of moans, along with the distant sound of snapping branches and rustling vegetation. Both men traded silent nods before creeping up the crest of the hill to glance over it. Just over one hundred yards away, they found the source of the noise. Though difficult to make out through the treeline and the darkness, a small horde of Infected -- at least two dozen -- had gathered around the base of a large hardwood, clawing and gnawing at the bark, bumping into one another... but all had their heads focused upward. Following their hungry gazes, he couldn't make out what it was they were so interested in... though he had a guess.
Decker set his pack down, reaching into to remove a night vision monocle before unslinging his rifle, raising it to his shoulder and looking down the telescopic sight. Using his free hand to line the monocle up with the rifle's scope was unwieldy, but eventually he managed to align the two optics and get the focus right. He was rewarded for his efforts with the sight of a person -- Ginny Wallace, presumably -- in the branches of the tree. She didn't look to be in great shape from what he could make out, but she was breathing at least. They would have to move fast to keep it that way.
Jonah muttered a curse under his breath, returning the monocle the ruck. "She's up there?!" Miller asked in an incredulous whisper.
Decker nodded. "We've got to get her down and back to the ranch, but the area needs to be clear before that happens. We could drop them, but the sound of gunfire will bring them in for a few klicks... and there's too many to take down by hand."
Miller chewed his lip. "Call for the rest of the team?"
Jonah shook his head. "I don't want Wheeler and his group out of our sight and besides, I don't think Ginny can afford to wait much longer. Who knows how long she's been up there in the cold?"
"What's the play, Sergeant?"
Jonah ran a hand across his jaw with a sigh before squaring his shoulders. "Get Royce and get in the truck. Drive down into that clearing and make as much noise as possible to draw them away from the tree. Once they clear it, you take off. Don't wait for me. Just get clear," he paused to point further downfield. "See that bend down there? Make good enough time and you can probably lose them there. Once you're certain you've lost the tail, we'll regroup at the ranch; let the rest of the team know what's going on. Have Doc on standby. Understand?"
Miller hesitated before sighing deeply. "I understand, Sarge."
"Good. Get ready; I need to grab a few things from the truck."
***
Jonah watched as the truck tore down the hill, its diesel engine grumbling all the way. Miller drove to within thirty meters of the tree, before he began circling -- the man was doing donuts, honking his horn all the while. Decker watched anxiously until he saw the ghouls slowly turn towards the noisy machine, staggering into the field after it -- their would-be treed meal suddenly forgotten in favor of this new ground-level prey. In ones and twos, they started after the truck. Before long well over a dozen of them had taken after the vehicle, prompting Miller to flash his headlights at Jonah -- their agreed-upon signal -- before turning to race down the pasture with his newfound tail of undead.
Jonah wasted no time in racing down the embankment and running down the treeline. He nearly tripped and fell twice in the dark -- cursing under his breath as he continued to move. Within seconds, he reached the base of the tree, crashing breathlessly through the underbrush. He saw a young woman approach him and assumed Ginny had used the distraction to climb down the tree. He opened his mouth to address her when she stepped closer to him, illuminating her face in the moonlight. Not only was this not Ginny, she wasn't human. Not anymore. A gouge of flesh had been torn from her face and her eyes were the telltale shade of milky blue. She lunged at him with a guttural moan just as Jonah hefted the bush axe in both hands and swung with all his might.
The TREPE team members had given him suspicious looks when they saw him pack the brush-clearing tool on the flight... but there was no denying its power. The double-edged blade cleaved through the side of the woman's skull with the same ease as the saplings Jonah was used to. Her body went limp, falling at his feet with a thud. He jerked the axe blade free, doing a quick perimeter scan to ensure that there wouldn't be anymore surprises before staring up into the dark branches. From this angle, he couldn't even see if Ginny was still in the tree. "Virginia Wallace!" he called out.
NanLia