d pale it would be a criminal waste of brains.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad I don’t have to rely on brains.”
After several more minutes, Marcus cut the motor and signaled Pierce to do the same. “See those twin pines up and to the right? This waterway joins Pauvre Bayou there.”
A hundred yards ahead, the two pines stood at the end of the strip of brushy land that ran alongside us, the final divider between Yet Another Squiggle and the larger bayou. I looked from the map to the brush and the hint of water beyond. “Not far to go now, right?”
“We’ll head past the pines then turn downstream on the bayou. The hunters’ boat was found about fifty yards further on. Once we get there we’ll—” He held up a hand for silence.
A breeze riffled the surface of the water, bringing with it a shout of “Fuck! Watch what you’re doing!” accompanied by heavy thumping.
“That’s coming from near the accident site,” Marcus said, jaw tight. “At least the wind is in our favor.”
As if in agreement, Marla tensed then sat.
Rosario straightened. “She’s indicating.”
I craned my neck to peer without success through the thick brush. “What’s she got?”
“Funky zombie or regular decomp. No way to know yet.”
Pierce jerked his head to the right. “Let’s hug the bank along the spit. There’s enough cover to shield us, and we can get in position to see who’s over there.”
Using the paddles, we made our way quietly over then let the current pull the boats along. The underbrush thinned to tall grass and scattered scrub as the spit narrowed. When we were a dozen yards from the pines, Marcus waved for us to stop.
“Damn it,” he growled.
“What is it?” I scrambled to kneel on my seat for a better vantage. The spit was barely ten feet across at this point, with steep banks, but the grass was sparse enough to allow a partial view of the bayou beyond. A light grey patrol boat with “Sheriff” stenciled on the side in big blue letters lay anchored some forty feet away, on the far side of the bayou. Two deputies stood at the back—one a carrot-top and the other bald as an egg. A scuba diver broke the surface by the stern and gave them a thumbs up, then the deputies crouched and hauled something into the boat. No, someone.
“Shit,” I breathed. A very obviously dead someone, with sickly pale skin and a partially severed hand dangling by a single tenacious tendon.
Pierce muttered a curse. “Looks like Wildlife and Fisheries was wrong about the search area.”
Rachel flicked a glance my way. “The body will be taken to the morgue, right? Angel can still get samples, so it’s not a total loss.”
“Yeah, but it’s nowhere near as useful as having the whole body. And it’s risky, especially if it turns out to be a shambler . . .” I trailed off, brow furrowing. “I thought all of the Sheriff’s Office boats were white.”
“Might be a new one,” Marcus said, but a sliver of doubt crept into his voice. He fished a set of binoculars from beneath his seat and peered at the grey boat. “I don’t recognize any of those guys. Doesn’t mean they aren’t deputies, but it’s only been a few months since I left—and they wouldn’t have a pair of newbies out on their own for a search.”
“May I?” Rosario extended a hand for the binoculars. After Marcus passed them over, he examined the boat and its occupants then let out a weary sigh. “The bald one is a Saberton security bigshot.”
Pierce narrowed his eyes. “Are you certain? How the fuck could Saberton possibly know—” He cut himself off with an angry shake of his head. “We’ll have to figure that out later. We absolutely cannot let them get away with that body.”
“We outnumber them two to one,” Rachel pointed out. “Using both flatboats, we can do a flanking maneuver.”
I shook my head. “We shouldn’t put the non-zombies in the line of fire.”
Rosario frowned. “Now, hang on—”
I stopped him with a fierce glare. “You die a lot more easily than our kind. And so does Marla.”
He flicked a guilty look at the German Shepherd and subsided.
“Enough,” Pierce said, voice low yet no less commanding. “It’s a non-issue. We could put Rosario and the dog on the bank to wait, but there’s no need. Rachel, Brian, and I will use the ‘dumb hick’ ploy to get us close enough to take them out. You and Marcus will remain here as emergency backup.”
“Hold on,” I said. “That won’t work.”
Pierce scowled at me. “It served just fine earlier.”