"We will see what we find, but we're not here on a humanitarian mission to rescue wasteland nomads too dumb to know when they should run." The voice over the megaphone informed Wolfe with mild disdain.
"Good enough for me. Being alive is all that matters, and we have no use for your new camp." Wolfe agreed, making the soldiers on foot laugh.
"The witches are on the run now, but they will be back. We will leave here long before the ground thaws. Their busses can't travel in the mud and snow, it slows them to a crawl, and we will have what we came for by the time the weather starts warming up." The man who had run the test on him replied quietly, giving Wolfe the heads up about how long to stay gone.
They weren't wrong about that. Those things barely sufficed as troop transports on a solid surface. Not that Wolfe would admit that he knew firsthand.
