"Try to stay off it for a few days."
Edwards snorted and pulled his pants back up, testing his weight on the leg. It stung, but he'd live. He shouldered his weapon and walked out of the infirmary looking for his men. He found them across the street in a tight circle. Cries of fear and pain emanated from within. He walked up and pushed his way towards the middle. Edwards cursed as he saw what was giving his men so much entertainment. What the hell was he doing out of his lair?
It was the little man, crouched in a small ball to protect himself. Edwards kicked him; the little man yelped and pulled himself tighter.
"Stand up," Edwards snarled. "What the hell do you want?
The little man began to shake; he looked like a terrified armadillo. Slowly he stretched out his arm, his other hand still wrapped around his head. He began to whine. Something shiny dangled from his clenched fist. Edwards grabbed it, turning it over in his hands. His eyes widened as he saw the name on the dog tags: PRYOR.
"Where did you get this?"
The little man muttered into his chest. Edwards kicked him hard across the road; the little
man screamed and cried as he crashed into a wall.
"I SAID WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?!"
"He was brought in about an hour ago. Cyanide pill. He was dead on arrival."
Edwards walked over and placed his boot upon the man's chest. He started to press down.
"And why did you bring this to me?"
The little man began to struggle, tried to lift the boot off. His eyes started to roll back into his head; Edwards released the pressure so he wouldn't faint. The little man lay still and silent. Edwards started to prod him with his foot, then sighed, and crouched down next to him. He opened his canteen, took a swig of water, then spit it into the little man's face to revive him. The little man sputtered and coughed. Edwards began to speak again, this time slowly and quietly.
"Come on now friend. We've known each other a long time now. We have no secrets between us. Why did you bring these tags to me?"
The little man sat up and started to rock back and forth. He eyed Edwards cautiously; telling the truth might get him killed. Lying and then being found out would most definitely . He leaned towards Edwards.
"Pryor told me to bring them to you. He wants me to turn him. He wants to be the alpha male, and lead the army."
"Does he now? And where is the good lieutenant at this moment?"
The little man wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
"He's back at the lab."
Edwards nodded his head.
"Is he dead?"
"Yes. He took a cyanide capsule. I have him hooked up to the serum now."
Edwards sat back on his heels and let his gaze wander to the moon. Almost full. He held up the dog tags, letting the moon light bounce off of them.
"Will he be ready by the full moon?"
"I'm not sure, he hasn't been receiving the serum as long as the others. I had to double the drip on him."
Edwards rubbed his chin.Too little and he wouldn't turn. Too much and he might be an even bigger liability. Edwards looked down at the little man and smiled.
"Triple the drip."
The little man sprung to his feet.
"Triple the drip? Are you mad? He'll be a monster! Who'll be able to control such a beast?"
Edwards held the tags up once again and let them glimmer in the moonlight. His voice was almost wistful.
"I don't know old friend. Maybe it would be best to put a poor beast like that out of his misery."