Chapter 229 Born at the Wrong Time

The werewolf ran his thumb over the wood.

The edge of the knife is very new and there are no traces of moisture erosion. This may be that Kuok or Chude left a message here, and the Salvation Army chose to erase the message after reading the message left by the contact person. To be on the safe side, their knife He used a lot of force to ensure that every word could not be read, but it also made the board thin.

So slender Miss Seranne would collapse the bed.

Julius, like Clayton, was fascinated by the message contained in the board, but he quickly detached himself from it.

"This seems to have nothing to do with us anymore. We will leave in the afternoon."

Clayton lowered the board.

Yes, it should have been a very important piece of information, but they were leaving in the afternoon, and the doomsday seekers would not have anything to do with them, so no matter how important this piece of information was, it had nothing to do with them.

The witch was worried: "Does Priest Louis know this? Should we inform him of the news?"

Clayton smiled and shook his head: "I think he should already know who the Doomsday Seekers are. At least he seemed to know when we parted. But it really doesn't work. As we said before, he drove all the outsiders out. That’s it.”

Donna shrugged unladylikely and went upstairs to sort out her things.

Not long after, they set off towards the city of Sasha.

Winston Jean Stewart lay prone in the cold mud.

The stench reminded his groggy consciousness of the Aipesh Plains during the military training season. Every spring and autumn, the rainy weather made the bedding in the tent smell musty. The prostitutes also built cages outside the military camp, and the grass houses they made were not very beautiful. The soldiers gave them the nickname "Wren" without any malicious intent.

He has never found a prostitute because of his morality, but most of his comrades are not so particular.

When the training is over, those men and women hang out together without shame, and the next moment, debauched and vulgar laughter may be heard from any taller grass.

The laughter was so frequent that he suffered from insomnia and auditory hallucinations during that period. Whenever he closed his eyes, a woman's laughter, either hoarse or shrill, could be heard in his ears.

These problems did not disappear until he was dismissed from the army for publicly accusing his superiors of abandoning the remaining soldiers.

But now, lying in the mud, Winston seemed to hear the laughter of those prostitutes again.

The voices of different women overlapped into a vague sound in his ears, and they laughed incessantly. The laughter was less obscene, but more indifferent and sarcastic.

The invisible women were noisy in the woods, and in their laughter, the exhausted Winston finally recalled that he had indeed left his companions behind.

He tried his best to turn his body over, and the dead gray sky and the deciduous forest like the arms of a drowned man came into view.

Looking at all this hopelessness, he suddenly had the urge to laugh.

The lungs greedily absorb the air outside the mouth and nose, and then a dry voice comes from the lips:

"Hehe. Hehehahahahaha"

Winston laughed crazily as he lay on the ground. His weak body after excessive exercise even felt the pain of tearing apart, but this reminded him that he was still alive in this world. The joy of saving my life from the monster overwhelmed any sense of morality and shame.

His smile came from the sincerity of his heart, and even the lifeless sky seemed rare and lovely in his eyes.

It's daytime now and those damn monsters aren't coming out.

The laughter gradually stopped, and he climbed up with difficulty. When he saw the deep forest surrounding him, his ecstatic mood fell to the bottom again. He ran wildly all night without torch lighting. His route had already deviated from the post road, and now he didn't know where he was.

Unfortunately, Winston has not learned the knowledge of identifying locations. He can only choose a direction that is not behind him and keep walking. In the process, he might be able to find someone who can help him.

Perhaps it was because of the mercy of his heavenly father that after a while, he saw a four-horse post office carriage approaching him quickly.

Winston could no longer think about why the carriage had deviated from the post road and came deep into the dense forest. He tried his best to speed up and rushed towards the carriage while shouting, hoping that someone could help him.

When he got closer, he discovered that the driver driving the carriage was a woman wearing a postman's uniform.

The woman also saw him, but instead of stopping, she gestured for him to leave with her free hand.

Winston saw blood on her hands, maybe she was attacked, but if he stayed here, how far could he be from starving to death?

The wheels and horses' hooves were sunk deeply into the soft mud, and they were not moving very fast. He kept chasing after him and tried to grab the frame that hung the lamp on the side of the rear of the carriage, and he succeeded in one fell swoop. The next step was not so strenuous. He got into the carriage from the back. First he smelled the smell of blood, and then he touched a soft human body in the dark.

"Who's there?" cried the person he touched in a frightened voice, "Oh my God, Mary, they're climbing up!"

Winston didn't care what the wounded man shouted, but since the man didn't resist, he lay down next to him.

Nothing can throw him down.

"Don't panic, I'm just a passerby." The female driver outside said calmly, and her voice changed into another voice after passing through the carriage, and her age could not be distinguished. Winston had not seen her appearance clearly before, but he could tell that she was a woman with a strong heart.

"But I want to remind this gentleman that we are not safe now. A group of dangerous elements are chasing us. No one knows why they attacked this post office carriage with little property, but judging from their appearance, they must be trying to The people in this carriage were all killed. I have shot and wounded one of them. They retreated temporarily, but they may catch up again at any time. "

Winston took a few breaths and originally wanted to say, "I can help you." But he suddenly found that he had left the shotgun behind when he was escaping, so he had to change his words: "I won't stay here forever. I just want to ride with you." Just a ride, I might go down soon, I don’t know where you are going?”

It was common sense that the post office carriage would only transport letters and periodicals around the city, and Winston himself laughed at the rash question as soon as the words came out of his mouth.

The woman didn't answer the stupid question, but shook the reins harder.

Winston's feet were against the wall of the carriage, his legs were bent together, and he stretched out his hand to lift the curtain at the back. Seeing familiar scenery passing by, he finally recognized the direction, but he had just come out of Jevo and did not want to go back so soon.

Not to mention the monsters on the road, the gunmen who knew his identity were still there. Although Clayton was a member of the Presbyterian Church, they might not help him.

Otherwise, how could his identity as a tomb robber be revealed?

Winston found a reason: "There is a monster in Revo. It will wander in the woods and attack living people from time to time. Many domestic animals have been harmed before. The people of Revo are also waiting for support from the city, so I sincerely suggest Don't go there."

"So you want us to take a detour back?" the woman said.

She did not rebuke the absurdity of this statement, which surprised Winston.

"Yes."

"Then we will be caught up by the robbers. They are too close." The wounded man in the carriage struggled to support his body. "Now we're just counting on these criminals to be afraid to come into town."

Winston rummaged around in the carriage, but found no weapons except for the wounded and large piles of newspapers, so he moved next to the wounded and suddenly reached out to cover the wounded's mouth.

"Go back to Sasha City, or I'll kill him!"

The sound of the wounded struggling was true, and the carriage shook slightly.

However, the female driver seemed not to hear these sounds. She just narrated calmly: "I have a very good revolver. If he dies, it will be your turn next."

This woman is terrifyingly cold, and Winston's plan to hijack the carriage fails.

He let go of his hand and continued to lie down silently, thinking about whether he should return to Gevo, despite the insults from the wounded, or rest for a while and then get off the car.

But soon he wouldn't have to think so much anymore.

Because a bullet suddenly penetrated the carriage and killed the wounded man next to him.

Seeing the body twitching a few times and then completely relaxing, Winston's pupils dilated slightly. Only then did his spirit take a breather from the last life-and-death crisis. He never expected that the second crisis would come so quickly.

He opened the curtain and saw two gunmen dismounting from their horses fifty yards behind and chasing after them on foot. There was another person behind who was putting away a rifle with smoke coming from the muzzle.

The soft soil could absorb the sound, so he didn't notice the sound of horse hooves.

Snapped!

There were also shots fired overhead, bullets hitting the ground in front of the gunners' horses, but the horses didn't take a step back.

"It's a military horse!"

Combined with the behavior of these gunmen dismounting from their horses and chasing the carriage on foot, a chill brewed in Winston's heart.

There are only two types of cavalry in Dorne, one is the hussars to which Clayton Bello belongs, and the other is what is called "mounted infantry". Due to years of training, they habitually The horses were kept out of firing range rather than mounted for combat, and the weapons they carried were often unsuitable for mounted combat.

Like it is now.

He suddenly thought of the gunmen in Gevo, who also had a similar temperament.

Could it be that he was involved in military operations?

But no matter how much Winston regretted it, it was too late to ask for getting out of the car and severing the relationship.

"Is he still alive?" asked the female driver.

Winston glanced at the wounded man's broken forehead.

"died."

The female driver on the roof glanced at the surrounding environment and wrote down the location.

"Do yourself a favor and push his body down."

Her cold, decisive tone reminded Winston of an army overseer. He obediently pushed the corpse off the moving carriage. Without the weight of one person, the carriage moved slightly faster.

Winston also wanted to throw away other debris in the carriage, but the female coachwoman reminded him immediately.

"Don't touch those goods."

He couldn't believe it. Why could the body of his companion be thrown away, but the newspaper couldn't be thrown away?

Is there anything special about newspapers?

Winston is tempted to disobey this order, but since a killer is targeting the carriage, maybe the papers really matter.

He hesitated and took a newspaper to read, but it was too dark in the carriage and he couldn't see anything clearly.

The killer who was chasing after him shot a few more times, but half of the times he failed to fire properly.

Winston thought that it was because paper ammunition was easily damp. In order to reduce costs, half of the army of the Kingdom of Dorne was using paper ammunition, which inadvertently helped them a lot.

But even so, the situation of close combat was still inevitable.

A piece of abrupt broken wood inserted into the gap between the wheels and stuck it. The four horses pulled hard, but still couldn't get rid of this shackle. The carriage drew an arc in the woods, and the carriage tilted to the right. Winston, who was inside, was not so easy. His face was pressed tightly against the wall of the carriage, but he still couldn't keep his balance. There was also a heavy object in the pile of newspapers that hit him hard. Just when he almost thought he was going to be thrown out of the carriage, the carriage stopped completely.

The female coachman pulled Winston out with her strong arms and threw a dagger to him without saying anything.

"Get ready for battle." She said.

Not far away from them, the well-trained rebels also drew their swords.