"Motherfucke—"
Rum spat out the curse as he kicked another corpse aside. The body rolled across the concrete with a dull thud. Still seething, he drove his shoe into another dead man's ribs, venting what remained of his frustration.
"Rum, just stop," Nelek remarked as he squatted beside one of the bodies. "A little help would be nice, though."
Rus nodded and moved toward the corpse's head. He grabbed its arms while Nelek took the legs. Together, they lifted it and carried it toward a nearby shipping container, leaving a thin smear of blood across the damp concrete.
Thanks to the men they had left alive, they could clean up the place without worrying about reinforcements arriving.
Rum clicked his tongue and let the duo work. He glanced toward Tank, then marched over to him.
"Is he dead?" he asked as he approached. "Or is he just pretending?"
