But after Ryan showed them Bones’s collar and explained that he was a trained Pittsburgh police K-9 who now had more experience sniffing out and fighting against the flesh-eaters than any dogs they might have brought with them, the captain realized how valuable such an asset might be. “All right, kid,” Captain Willingham had said. “We’ll treat you like a matched set.” After a visit to the company medic, who patched them up as best he could in the field, Bones and Ryan were loaded onto an Army CH-47 transport helicopter and whisked out of the combat zone. As soon as the helicopter was aloft, Bones fell asleep. He may have still been hungry but only accepted a quick drink from a soldier’s canteen before closing his eyes. The longer they’d stayed on the ground, though, the more antsy Ryan had become. His debriefing by the captain, who wanted to know in detail where he’d been and what he’d experienced, had repeatedly been punctuated by machine gun fire from both the Apache’s forward cannon as well as troops on the ground exterminating flesh-eaters both near and far.
