“They’re faint but pretty clear,” I answer wondering how bad his night vision has to be not to see them.
I am thinking the light beaming from the stars overhead is enhancing the light in the area. I grab for another pair of night vision binoculars and the area becomes even clearer through the greenish glow. I don’t know why the night runners aren’t attacking the fence as I’ve witnessed them do many times before. They seemed to be relentless in their attacks but here they are just milling around. Occasionally one bends forward with its mouths agape, apparently issuing its all too well-known shrieks; the shrieks again faintly reach our ears moments later.
One of the night runners steps into the light. A spotlight immediately focuses on it and a flicker of light emits from the closest tower. The night runner is flung back into the darkness and the sound of the shot echoes a split second later. The other night runners turn and flee, vanishing behind a building as they run further into a residential area of town. My thought is that the night runners have learned not to go close to the camp at night and prefer to find easier meals elsewhere. An occasional shriek resounds through the night but is not as prevalent as I would have thought. I am thinking that the people in the encampment may have cleared out an area and have been alert enough to take on any who enter into the light at night. I am also guessing there weren’t that many night runners here to begin with and the people in camp haven’t seen the hordes we have witnessed. If night runners were here in the numbers we have seen, those fences and towers would have quickly been overwhelmed.
The fact that the night runners are staying away from the camp may be both a benefit and a danger to us. The benefit is that we may still be able to conduct a night operation against the compound. However, if there are still a lot of night runners in the area, they may be venturing out into the country for food which means possibly out our way. The fact that there is some loitering in the shadows on the edge of the light may make that a danger zone if we try to infiltrate through that area. I’ll have to see what happens on subsequent nights as a one-time thing doesn’t mean a pattern. The night runners coming close to the camp may just be an out-of-the-ordinary event. We listen to the radios as the towers check in seemingly every hour on the hour. The only exception to this pattern of radio calls is when one of the towers reports the sighting and shooting.
I turn it over to the night shift and head into the back to rest. My headache has returned but is only a light throbbing. I lay back but rest doesn’t come easy due to my anxiety and the night passes with only restless bouts of sleep. By morning, my headache has diminished and the faint glow of the dawn appears in the eastern sky. My back is sore from sleeping on the hard metal of the Humvee. I’m way too old for this, I think making sure the area is clear and slowly exit. I work the kinks out as the sun begins to crest the mountains sending rays of light streaming through the gaps in the trees. Wisps of mist rise from the plants and forest floor where the light strikes. Summer is ending and fall is near.
I check in with the night shift to find they really have nothing out of the ordinary to report. The pattern of check-in calls from the towers holds to form and there is no report of additional night runner sightings. They did hear faint shrieks throughout the night but nothing emerged within their range of visibility. I grab a quick bite and down it with a swig of water. Throwing the tarp over the vehicle once again, I head with Greg over to our previous observation point, settling onto the ground. The chill of the ground seeps through my shirt causing an occasional shiver to run up my spine.
With the coming of the sun, we observe people being guided into the old lunch room. The pattern of the morning resembles the events of last evening except in an almost reverse order. Lunch room, gym, and then they are herded onto buses. The buses exit through the gate and disappear eastward. I don’t see any of the kids or Gonzalez boarding the vehicles which adds to my worry. If I could at least see them, I would know they were alright. Others are brought outside into the fields in the same manner as last night.
Peering through the magnified lens of the binoculars, I see Robert, in black shirts and pants, gathered with others in the open field by the gym. Taking another look, I see Bri, Michelle, and Gonzalez. My anxiety is relieved to a great degree seeing them whole and what I assume to be okay. Robert walks with a limp when they move around and Gonzalez rubs her shoulder and head from time to time. A guard heads over to their group and, after what I assume is a discussion of some sort, they separate. The sight makes me want to head down right now and get them but sanity prevails. At least I know they are alive. I watch as they are led back into the buildings after about an hour outside.
“I’m going back to get some rest. Looks like I may be a little busy tonight,” I say to Greg lying by my side.
“Planning a little excursion are we?” Greg asks setting his binoculars down and looking my way.
“Perhaps,” I answer.
“Want some company?” He asks.
“Nah, I’ll be fine. But thanks. Besides, I need you here just in case,” I reply.
“Lynn’s going to piss herself when she finds out,” he says with a little chuckle.
“She’ll only find out if someone tells her,” I respond.
“Well, if you don’t make it back, she’s gonna kinda know,” he states.
“If that happens, then I won’t have to worry about it,” I say mimicking his laugh. “I’m not going to do anything rash. I just want to get a look and see what their setup is inside.”
“Yeah, heading inside an armed camp alone and venturing into possibly secured buildings isn’t doing anything rash,” Greg says turning back to his binoculars. “Just kidding by the way. I totally get it.”
“What about the night runners?” He asks turning back to me once again.
“Well, I figure I’ll edge up to the tree line to the west just on the edge of the demarcation area of the lights at dusk and wait for dark before moving in. I’m hoping there won’t be any activity that close. If they show up and they aren’t too great in numbers, I’ll hopefully be able to take care of them. If there are too many, I’ll head into the lights and hope the guards help out. Then you’ll be rescuing five instead of four,” I answer, still wary of my plan.
“Thought this one through all the way, have you?” He asks rhetorically with another laugh.
“Maybe not so much,” I answer with a quiet laugh.
I pat him on the shoulder and tell him I’ll send someone to take my place. Greg nods and I crawl backwards until my silhouette won’t be seen from below. The closest Humvee is just behind and I send another Echo Team member up to Greg. Before lying down on the ground warmed by the sun reaching through the trees, I gather items I’ll need for my evening excursion. Besides ensuring my mags are loaded with ammo and dumping the shell in the chamber — night moisture and cold can warp the round inside the chamber — I stack my night vision goggles, a fiberscope, a chemical spray designed for breaching fences, and a few scraps of metal wire. I also gather some of the scent eliminator gathered from Cabela’s. I won’t be able to make a fire to eliminate my odor here so it will have to do.
With my things for the evening gathered, I stretch out on the soft fir needles of the forest floor. My mind does its normal pre-operation thought patterns of visualizing scenarios that I will likely encounter and my reaction to them; or how to avoid them altogether. A ray of sun slanting through a gap in the trees strikes my face. My eyes are closed but I feel the warmth. With thoughts racing through my mind, I can also hear the occasional movement of the team members and forest creatures around. A “cawing” of a crow, most likely resting on one of the branches close by, echoes throughout our little hideout. An infrequent, quiet burst from the radios, as someone from the camp or fields makes a call, intrudes on the stillness of this late summer day.