Robinson Crusoe 2245: (Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

plows and machines that looked to do seeding, planting, and tilling. Ladders on both ends led to small lofts, likely where feed was once kept, but each nocked up against bay doors that opened to the outside.
    Robinson ran to the opposite end of the barn to look out the rear doors. A road ran alongside a small creek opposite another empty field. The Flayers hadn’t circled the barn yet, but it was only a matter of time. He closed the doors and turned back to the mutes.
    “Get up in that loft and open those doors,” he told them. “With the sun at your back, you should be able to pick off a few Flayers without presenting too much of a target.”
    As they scaled the ladders, Robinson turned to the families. They were dressed uniformly, mostly in black. The men wore trousers and starched shirts, buttoned to the top. A few wore vests, and all wore wide-brimmed, black hats. The older men had beards with no mustaches. The women wore black dresses that dropped to the ground and white lace cloths that covered most of their hair.
    “Which of you knows how to fight?” Robinson asked.
    No one raised a hand. Robinson almost groaned but knew it would do no good.
    “Which of you can fight?” he asked.
    This time, several of the men raised their hands, along with one woman, though none held conventional weapons, merely farming tools.
    “We are willing,” the tallest figure said. “If you tell us what to do.”
    The man’s clothes were singed, but he looked hale. A second man, who appeared to be his brother, stood next to him.
    “You two, come up front with me,” Robinson said. “The rest of you guard the back door. Try to block it with anything you can. If you need help, call out.”
    As they hustled off, Robinson locked eyes with a teenage girl. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen, but something about her froze him in his tracks. And then it hit him. With her light hair and green eyes, she was the spitting image of Tessa.
    “What do you want us to do?” a silver-haired farmer at Robinson’s elbow repeated.
    “Find anything that will make a weapon. The longer the better.”
    At the front of the barn, the mutes had opened the loft doors and were alternating arrow fire. Robinson heard a cry, followed by a call, followed by more cries. He fought the instinct to laugh because he knew the mutes were using a wounded man as bait.
    “You!” Robinson called out as another farmer passed. “We saw other farms as we approached. How many of you are there?”
    “Twenty-six families we numbered,” the man said grimly. “But after the first attack, most of the able-bodied men formed a party and left for the river. They still have not returned.”
    “That’s because they’re dead,” Robinson said.
    The man’s head sank, but he seemed to know it was true.
    “Make no mistake,” Robinson continued, “these are incredibly skilled savages you’re up against, and they won’t quit or retreat until the rest of you are dead too. But you have one thing going for you. Do you know what that is? This is your home. And it’s hard to flush an animal from its home. If you value the lives of your family, fight. Fight until there’s nothing left.”
    “That we will,” the man said defiantly.
    A whistle drew Robinson’s eyes upward. The sister mute signaled six to the right. Four to the left. Ten working around to the backside.
    Too many , Robinson thought.
    He ran to the front, where the biggest farmers waited.
    “Why aren’t they attacking?” one of them asked.
    “They will,” Robinson answered. “Caution isn’t the Bone Flayer way. Most likely they’re waiting for the rest of their party to arrive. Or maybe they’re trying to find some cover to aid their approach. If they can’t decide on a plan in time, they’ll simply charge.”
    At the far end of the barn, something struck the metal doors. The villagers had managed to secure them with an old chain but were struggling to hold it closed.
    Robinson raced back to join