A YEAR UNDERFOOT – entry #165

A Year Underfoot


March 6th, 2034

I saw the column of smoke rising from a few miles away and I knew it had to be coming from Ross’ camp. The Threak had beat me there. Was it a coincidence, or had they finally caught up to Ross and his crew? I’m guessing the later. He’d been operating out of the same spot for months, it was inevitable they would roust him eventually. You have to stay mobile, –no matter how inconvenient it may be.

I came up on the south side of the compound and held back in the brush. I scoped the still smoldering scene with my binoculars from half of a mile away and sat still, waiting. They were still around. I could feel it. I smelled Threak. Not literally, but yeah, I smelled Threak.

My patience paid off. Forty-five minutes later I spotted a trio of troopers moving across the blackened ground.

I kept the field glasses on the compound and spotted another pod of troopers crossing from the opposite direction. Then another pod of three appeared. The place was crawling with troopers.

I had to get out of there. I was too close.

I backed away from my position quietly and carefully. I made slow deliberate movements and kept my head down for a solid quarter mile before I felt comfortable enough to pick up the pace and break out into a light jog.

I’m hoping my friends saw it coming and fled in time. I’d like to think it’s why the Threak are still at the scene, – they’re waiting for them to return. That has to be it. And, the longer I think on it, the more convinced I am that’s the case. They got out in time, no doubt about it. Ross is a pro, there’s no way the Threak got the drop on him, not out here. Not in his backyard.

Come morning I’ll see if I can pick up his trail.


About paul nevins

Fiction writer, reader and baseball fan.
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