Chapter 3

We were a couple of dozen meters from the road we had been paralleling. Creeping, we edged closer to the intersection of the railroad and the roadway, and soon could hear snippets of conversation. We had nearly crunched past a roadblock. The folks manning the post did not seem well briefed on noise discipline, as well as light and smells. Breathing quietly, we could hear them conversing about the power loss, bitching about night guard duty, particularly irritated at being assigned the 0200-0600 tour. I was surprised that this little town had things this organized, so soon after the lights went out. I wasn’t altogether certain what these guys were doing, manning a roadblock on a state highway in the middle of the night, so we settled in for a listen.

New Ham Radio operators are, or ought to be, introduced to the utility of the “release to listen” button on their radio microphones. This little gem allows one to listen in on conversations, while not revealing one’s own opinions, location, travel plans, purchases, or otherwise actively seeking an OPSEC fail. In the present setting, our silence allowed Emily and me to learn about the arrangements the town had made, without either revealing our presence, nor our interest in those selfsame preparations. People busy bitching, reveal a lot about their circumstances, and quiet attentive listening allows for interested folks to gather much information.

For instance, the conversation revealed that the town’s activities were being orchestrated from the fire hall. This suggested that our informants were firefighters. It also suggested that the township park I was so interested in as a stopping point, at the other end of this small town from the firehouse, was removed from the center of activity. All good from my perspective. I tapped Emily on the shoulder, pantomimed withdrawing, and slowly matched actions to gesture. Nearly silently, she followed closely.

We retreated around a hundred meters, and held a whispered conference. “Why didn’t you approach those guys?”, she wondered. “It sounded as if they had things pretty organized, and we might have been able to get our water bottles refilled, and maybe not sleep outdoors this morning. They might have even had food to share!”

I whispered a counterpoint. “Suppose that they thought I should not have my guns? Or, that, packed up like I am, I had some suspicious intent? Or, maybe, they are old fashioned brigands, and would simply take our stuff and send us on our way? None of those scenarios are appealing to me, so I’m gonna bypass them. The park I have my eye on is at the north end of town, and their fire hall is at the south end, next to the school. I think we can slink in, fill up, and tiptoe our way out of there.”

She looked at me as if from new eyes. “You really are not very trusting, are you? Do you really think that they would steal our stuff?”

“Yep, I think that they might. Whether I’m right or simply paranoid, I’m happier leaving that little adventure in the arena of thought experiment, rather than clinical trial. So, as our own little experiment, you are an ER nurse, right?”

“You are being silly! Of course, I work with you! What are you getting at?”

“You ever wonder if somebody is not really hurting like they claim, and simply see us as a conduit for narcotics?”

“Every night!”

“So, let’s apply some of that finely honed nursing skepticism: How likely is it that these guys are sitting out here, bitching about the overnight duty, simply so that they can hand out triple-A maps, give us cookies and coffee, and cheerily wave goodbye as we skip our happy way through their lovely little town? Did you even smell coffee?”

“Uh, not too likely,” she slowly admitted. Pausing, she continued. “I just cannot believe that people would be robbing others at all, let alone the first night of this sort of emergency!”

“Cannot believe, or do not want to believe? You have seen the folks who come through ER. What fraction of them, if you met them at Wal-Mart, would you wish you had a gun in your purse?”

She looked at me in the darkness. “Too many. You think this is one of that sort of roadblocks?”

“Don’t know, don’t care to find out. Let’s tiptoe down this track. and slip into the park. We can fill up, ease out, and pass west of town. Once we’re a kilometer or so past things, we can rest, consider how much farther we can go tonight, and look for a bivouac site. I think we want to be all tucked in by daybreak and my guess is that we have sunrise around 0600, so twilight begins around, say, 0500. I think we need to be all cozy at around 0500, so we have another, what? Three hours? To travel, find a hidey-hole, and crawl into it. Sound reasonable?”

She reflected a moment. “Let’s go!”

With our new-found insight into who might be up and about at this hour we began to step from railroad tie to railroad tie. We crept up to the intersection again, and I slipped forward to see how much of a distraction we might present, crossing the road. The night had brought a chill, that we had not really noticed on our stroll. Our friends at the checkpoint, not meandering across the countryside, apparently had. They were clustered around a barrel fire, hobo-like, and were still discussing the joys of the overnight shift. Loudly.

I crouched my way across the road, moved a few meters down the railroad bed, and paused. I saw Emily mimic my actions, and, wraith-like, cross the road herself. We moved away from the intersection, and continued southward. We approached the next intersection, representing the northern edge of town. Trying to present a low profile, we edged to the point where we could see first the intersection, then the road leading east and west. Seeing nothing, we held still, a listening stop, wanting to discover any observers before they identified our presence. Several minutes passed, and nothing stirred.

Recreating our maneuver from the previous intersection, we crossed, and then held still, listening for any indication we had been noticed. Silence reassured us, and we moved on. We were a bit on edge due to the near-miss at the first roadblock, and tried to step silently, so our ears could provide us with early warning of looming contact. Fortunately, nobody else felt a burning need to be out and mobile, it seemed, except for us. We walked down the right of way, encountering nobody, and seeing no lit houses. No dogs roused to challenge our passage, and we approached the park without incident.