They were talking and drinking in a cabin down some road. Rebellion was in the air these days, and people were talking shit everywhere it seemed there was a place to. Just another node of contempt for the situation in that day.

Six guys he had brought here to start a crew. They drank and chatted about the situations they could exploit in the cause. The spurning of the plan of The Man. He thought of the 6 chicks he'd bought in the Spring, looking for eggs. They all came up fine, looking good. One day, he realized one was a rooster. If you're after eggs you want hens. A day later he scooped the assertive young buck up and took him for a walk. He set him down and blew his head into atoms with a 44 special shot-shell, leaving him there for the Coyotes.

The table was round, and they sat around it going easy mostly, a Coleman gas lantern sputtering overhead and casting brittle shadows. They sipped and talked, getting acquainted and growing more open in increments. He watched them as they spoke, especially the eyes, wondering who the rooster would be. He'd never seen a group of a half dozen that didn't include one traitor and two cowards.

"We want to hurt them so badly and suddenly that they'll hesitate to deploy", he said. Why would they hesitate? That's what brings them out, said the guy with the hat. "They're not used to dying, and once that starts so will the hesitation".

He sat back and sipped. Hat didn't like it, squirmed a bit and said " they'll come out a few times though, and taking scalps when they do by the sack-full. We don't make the start of a sack". A small niggle was starting in his spine below his neck as he looked at Hat. Hat's eyes were a tad spooky, but wise too. Maybe a wing man if he's not too ambitious?

Cow Lick spoke up out of a shadow " it might take us bein' smart. Not bein ' too amazing and sticking out too blatant at first. Being cool". The Beard said " I like smart".

Look, smart's fine. Smart's essential. I'm not proposing we be stupid. I'm proposing we become so effective that they'll huddle in their shelter and fear going out. We need a lean strategy that exploits existing weak spots.

"So you got us here. Do you think you're the man?", Hat asked. "Maybe we need a vote", said The Beard. Cow Lick just sat back and looked. Sideburns poured another and smiled. The Boy Scout picked at a cuticle with a pen knife. A silence stretched

Do you think we can work together? He was thinking that maybe six was too many. "Who the fuck ARE you?" Asked the Hat. You know me. You've known me since last Spring.

"That I have, me lad. You have the look of a rooster to me, and we can't have any crowing". Cow Lick grasped his left wing while Beard held his right, and they lifted him to his feet while the Hat slid a snubby from his jeans pocket, inclining his free hand to point a way, saying "let's take a walk".

They walked to an overlook and stopped. His eyes fell into the Vista, picking out the spots of light signaling life below, thinking of something that no longer mattered. Culled for the good of the flock. Left for the Coyotes...CD

The good of the Flock