[centre][b]The Bastard[/b][/centre]

Know the worst part about living in a fort that was built centuries ago? It ain't the holes in the defences, the crumbling foundations or the damn rats everywhere. It was the bloody wind, how it blew through everything, knocked things over and cut right to your core.

Still, could be worse. You could be one of those poor fuckers in one of them Safety Shelters. Overcrowded, little food and being pushed around by someone whose family had more money than you before all this shit went down. At least with William's crew you knew where you stood. Pull your weight and do what you're told and you will be well looked after by everyone else who does the same. Be a burden for too long or refuse to do something and you'll wish that you were Infected.

And today, today somebody had not done their job right. Two people fucked up during the night. The one watching the storeroom, and the one who thought they could pilfer from it. Both had to be punished, both must be made examples of what not to do. 

William walked out into the courtyard of the fort. Whatever holes this place omce had were patched up with scraps of wood, metal and even a couple of car parts and frames that couldn't be used. And in the middle of the courtyard stood a dozen men and women, these were the ones who weren't out scavenging or who had no other duties. And kneeling in front of them were two men.

The eldest of the men would be about 30 years old, and apart from his torn pants he wore nothing. This was intentional, he was the watchman who screwed up, so his gear was taken from to be used by someone less useless. The other was a kid, couldn't have been older than 18. Poor dumb shit. He should've better than to steal from his group, and the watchman should've done his job better.

The older of the two looked down at the ground, glancing every now and then up at William with eyes full of fear. The man tried to speak, his voice full of fear and his words were muttered more than said, "B-b-boss, I'm, I'm sorry that I-" before he could say anymore William drove his armoured boot into the mans gut. The man doubled over in pain, he would've grabbed his gut but his hands were tied behind him.

William looked at the man in disgust, he had no sympathy for those who were incompetent. Had the watchman been killed or injured when the thief tried to get away William would have praised the man for doing his job. But no, he was found asleep next to the open storeroom door, not a scratch on him. It took them only a short while to find the thief, he hadn't gotten far from the fort before he was caught by an observant guard. The guard was given extra rations and excused duties for two days. Good work equals rewards. Bad work equals punishment.

Nobody besides those in the courtyard knows what happened to the two prisoners, except that it must have been horrible because while nobody saw anything, aside from dried blood left in the courtyard, they all heard the screams. The screams went on and off for days, they were loud and full of horror, and they weren't all from the two victims. When it was all done, there were no bodies left, not even bones. 

There was however more minced meat added to the freezer, and some bones made into clubs and sharpened into shivs.