Page 47 of At Midnight Comes the Cry
“Yes. And if it comes time for an official response, you’ll need to lead it.” Russ pulled his binoculars from a pocket and reslung his rifle. “Which is why you need to sit out the scouting trip. If something goes wrong, we need someone with the authority to act.”
Terrance blew out a breath before nodding. “We’ll wait an hour. If you’re not back by then, we’re coming after you.”
11.
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 12–SATURDAY, DECEMBER 13
It took twenty minutes, going slow and marking his trail; he’d be able to retrace his steps in ten. The first sign was the smell: a faint chemical odor from a latrine mixing unpleasantly with the scent of onion and garlic in a skillet. The land sloped upward in a moraine—a good place to pitch camp and a badplace to try to sneak up on. He went slowly, tree to tree, then eased himself to the forest floor and crawled closer.
Either they had found a naturally open space, or, more likely, they had stripped away vegetation and saplings, because there was a clear line of sight well away from the actual tents. Russ stopped while he was still several yards in the undergrowth and propped up the binos to get a better look. One—two—four—six modern two-person tents, neatly tarped over, with another old-fashioned military canvas hut as big as a single-car garage. There were two other tarp shelters, one that looked like the camp kitchen and another with chairs set around a table. Two men were in the kitchen and another three lounged at the table. None of them were Kevin Flynn, and he really didn’t like the fact they had lodgings for twelve, but he could only see five.
He crawled backward, slowly, until the only things he could smell were leaf mold and soil. He rose to his feet and retraced his route, grateful he had marked his way a little above his sight line. It would make it less likely anyone not looking for a trail would see them. He still felt as if he was on display every step back to where he had left Knox and Terrance.
When he finally spotted them, they were geared up and ready to go. They headed in his direction. “Anything?” the ranger asked. Russ held a finger to his lips and nodded.
“Did you see Flynn?” Knox whispered.
He shook his head. “We need to fall back behind the trip wire.” He shouldered his backpack and let Terrance take the lead, following the blazes until they saw the double-marked tree that was the boundary of the perimeter warning. When they were twenty yards beyond—far enough so any patrolling militia member was unlikely to hear them—Russ stopped. “Okay, this should be good. There were tents for twelve but only five men visible in the camp, so I wanted to get out of their territory in case they were on the move.”
Knox dropped her pack with a muffled thud. “What did you see?”
“It looked like an ordinary, well-ordered camp. A sheltered kitchen and another place to eat. I could smell a latrine or a chemical toilet. I didn’t spot any weapons or machinery or anything suspicious. Therewas a big Viet Nam–era surplus army tent, though, and they could have had anything up to an M22 tank in there. And it was sited on a moraine—a glacial mound,” he added for Knox’s benefit, “so there could be more to their setup on the far side that I couldn’t see.”
“How hard will it be to take them?” The ranger’s voice was calm but his hand went to his rifle stock.
“Hard. It’s higher ground and they’ve done a good job clearing away the brush to make a wide defensive perimeter. At least one of them knows what he’s doing.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “This has the potential to be another Ruby Ridge if they have enough provisions up there.”
“Oh, good God. Flynn, what have you gotten yourself into?” Knox looked up to the heavens, but no answer materialized. She sighed, leaving a puff of steam hanging in the air. “Okay, what do we do now?”
“Let’s stick to the plan. Fall back a little farther—say, halfway to the peak we went over—and make camp.” Russ looked to the sky, not for revelations, but to gauge the light. He turned to Terrance. “It’s almost sunset.”
The younger man frowned for a moment, weighing his options. “I’ll stay with you two tonight,” he finally said. “It kills me to leave Pierreagain,but he’d be the first to say only a damn fool goes over unfamiliar ground in the dark. And this way I can help you set up—no offense meant, Hadley.”
“Absolutely none taken.”
In fact, Russ discovered his last hire was more useful sitting to one side while he and Terrance pitched the tent, strung a bivouac tarp for the ranger’s bedroll, and wove together two lean-tos to screen them from wind and prying eyes. She did take charge of rolling out their sleeping bags and finding a few flat rocks to serve for food prep areas. Russ’s camp stove was small and efficient, and while it didn’t throw off anywhere near the heat of a fire, it enabled them to fill up with a warm meal and hot cocoa. He was amused to find Clare had slipped in a baggie of mini marshmallows, which they ate, untoasted, alongwith a Hershey’s bar Terrance snapped in three and passed around. “You have to keep your calories topped off in this weather,” he said around a mouthful of chocolate.
“How cold is it going to get?” Hadley tore open another packet of instant cocoa. “It’s already below freezing.”
“The weather report said a low of fifteen in the mountains tonight.” Terrance poured the near-boiling water into her mug. “About usual for this time of year.”
“How are you not going to freeze to death with only that?” She pointed to his tarp and bedroll.
The ranger’s grin flashed in the dim light from the stove’s flame. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll wear my long johns.”
“Long johns! I may not even take off my boots.”
Despite her grumbling, Knox was fast asleep within minutes of climbing into her sleeping bag. Terrance stripped down to long johns and woolly socks, as promised, rolled himself in his blankets, and was out like the proverbial light. Russ had slept like that once, but it was when he was younger and less weary, so he turned off the stove and sat in the starlight for a while, wishing for Clare and worrying about what tomorrow would bring.
He woke within the small tent already gray with clouded daylight, and was embarrassed to find he was the last one up. He had to suppress a groan as he clambered out of his sleeping bag. He spent his first minutes out in the open stretching his complaining muscles before heading to their makeshift latrine and relieving himself.
The thirty-somethings had clearly been hopping about like a pair of wood elves, making him feel even more like old man winter.
“Coffee’s ready, Chief.” Terrance stood beside the camp stove, dressed and drinking from a steaming mug.
“I’m not a chief anymore, Paul.” He accepted a full mug from Knox.
“I told you he’d say that.” She gave the ranger a pointed look.
