The
recon team made good time, and it was still dark on the second night when they
caught sight of Gander’s Gulch. Its
surrounding chainlink fence reached high, about twenty feet. Barbed wire capped it off like a maximum
security prison. The equally high wooden
gate wasn’t nearly as sturdy as Freetown’s steel, and it required manual
opening and closing. It was forbidding
just the same.
Everyone
knew any locked door could be broken into.
It was a matter of making it not worth the trespasser’s while to do so.
As
soon as they were within view of Gander’s Gulch, everyone hunkered down on the
hard ground. Carli said, “Gate’s closed.
That’s a good sign.”
Arner
sounded leery. “Torches are out. No indication of a guard.”
He
was right. Gander’s Gulch, lacking the
power Gordon’s fat-fueled generators gave Freetown, relied on keeping torches
lit on the outside of their fence for perimeter security. Not a single one blazed.
One
of Arner’s soldiers, a long man almost as tall as a late Becoming, commented,
“Someone’s home. They’ve got some lights
glowing in the distance.”
The
group craned their necks to see beyond the first buildings within the
town. Carli was at a disadvantage with
her short height, but she thought she discerned a little illumination.
Leo
grunted. “That looks like a hellacious
big fire. At least one of the buildings
has gone up, probably more.”
Arner
unslung his gun, holding it defensively.
Everyone followed suit. The
sergeant said, “Let’s skirt around, see what the west gate looks like.”
They
did so, giving the town a wide berth.
Carli estimated it would take an hour to go all the way around, keeping
the amount of distance they were, but no one complained. When it came to strategy, Arner knew what he
was doing.
About
a quarter of the way, they heard the first piercing scream. The group paused.
“That’s
definitely not good,” Carli muttered.
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