Don’t talk to me now, Ken… I have to lower my rifle to use my walkie-talkie. But it was a question he had to have answered. ‘‘Negative, no. Not moving,’’ I whispered. ‘‘You?’’ My voice sounded funny, and my throat was dry. Rifle back up.

‘‘Negative.’’ Great. If he wasn’t moving, and I wasn’t…

I waited a few seconds, but there was no more noise. I found my left hand on the pistol grip of my assault rifle almost cramping. I took a deep breath, and slowly stepped onto the narrow trail. I stopped. I looked both ways, but saw nothing. Total silence. For the first time, I doubled over, and began to move very slowly up the little dirt track. It curved to the right. I knelt down on one knee just at the bend, and listened. Nothing. It was really hard to force myself to get back up, and go around that blind curve. I stayed bent over, and very cautiously started into the bend.

The shots just about deafened me. I threw myself into the brush, landing on my right side in the damp dirt and grass. Bits of shredded leaves were slowly falling around me, and dust motes filled the air. Then silence.

Two

The quiet in the woods seemed even quieter, after the explosion of noise. I moved my legs slightly. I wasn’t hit. After a couple of seconds, it stopped raining leaf bits. I realized I was holding my breath, and let it out slowly. The shots, three or four of them, must have been high. Then I remembered the tops of the bushes were just over my head. Not that high.

‘‘Carl…’’ came a whisper on the walkie-talkie. ‘‘Carl…’’

Cautiously, I reached down and brought the little radio up to my mouth. I wanted to scream at him to shut up, but I knew he needed information. ‘‘Yeah, go ahead,’’ I whispered back.

‘‘They’re still here,’’ came the whispered voice. ‘‘Be careful.. .’’

No shit. Thanks for filling in the gaps.

‘‘Where are you now?’’ he asked, in a barely discernible whisper.