"If you disagree, either you go ahead or you change the location of lake crossing." Tang Zheng ignored them, his icy gaze sweeping over them, nobody was daring enough to meet his eyes.
"You..." David grabbed Danny's arm, restraining him from provoking Tang Zheng. It was not worth turning against each other.
After ten minutes, everyone's wooden rafts were prepared, but no one entered the water. They would occasionally glance at Brant who was standing behind, and the unspoken meaning was clear: cannon fodder always went first.
Brant and Defoe buried their heads between their knees, acting as if they hadn't noticed, playing innocent.
"Brant, you're up." Looking at the darkening skies, Leonard decided not to wait any longer.
Brant lowered his head even more, pretending not to hear.
Klatch. A clouded expression on his face, Leonard chambered his rifle and took aim. Brant and Defoe, when they sneakily looked his way, instantly scrambled out like monkeys whose tail was on fire.
