“This way,” Luke directed. He and the others had caught up to them a few hundred meters into the thicket. “The nearest patrol is behind us, but they don’t have goggles—just flashlights and lanterns.”
“We can’t outrun them,” Skye said, her voice strained as they continued to move.
“Wes, pick a spot. Diego, quick hide,” Luke directed. “I’ll lay a false trail.”
Sliding to a stop in a hollow, Wes dropped his pack and tossed something to Luke. “Lie down,” he ordered the team in a sharp whisper. “Turn off your goggles and play dead.”
Luke nodded and sprinted off, breaking branches and making lots of noise. Lark and Skye assisted the general into the shallow hole filled with leaves, lyingon either side of him. Rushing squeezed in with Harlan and Diego, curling up at their feet. Wes draped a silver thermal tarp over them, followed by the camo net, tying it quickly to surrounding trees and bushes. Hastily, he slid in at their head end.
Crowd noise burst through the air, moving rapidly away from them. Luke ducked under the leafy, insulated hide and lay still. Clicked off his night vision. Slowed his breathing. They waited.
Must be that cube Wes gave him, Lark thought.An old electronic device that makes sounds.
Lark settled on her back, hugging her crossbow to her chest, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. The musty odor of rotting wood and decomposing vegetation filled her nostrils. A broken twig poked her in the ribs.
No one made a sound, yet tension pressed in, heavy and unyielding. This would be a short-lived rescue if they were discovered. The camouflaged cover was like the one they laid over the vehicles, 12 by 15 feet, and they were packed in snugly.
Lark breathed shallow and slow, listening to the tromp of boots and shouts in the forest.
“This way!”
“No, this way.”
“Split up,” sounded a commanding baritone. “Check under every bush, in every tree. You, Sergeant, take a patrol double-time farther ahead. We’ve got trucks and motorcycles setting up roadblocks. We can’t let them escape.”
“Roger that.”
Rapidly moving feet shook the ground as the patrol raced by, a mere few meters away. Lark could see light from torches filtering through the leafy hide.
“Take your team that way,” shouted the leader. “Shoot at anything that moves.”
More footsteps heading away. “There’s a trail!” sounded a hopeful voice. “Broken twigs. Trampled plants.”
“The rest of you, with him!” barked the commander.
Lark could sense the presence of several soldiers still loitering nearby. Slow steps crunched their way nearer. These last few were searching more thoroughly, and she was sure the leader was with them. Her finger rested on the trigger. She felt the others tense beside her.
Steady, she told herself.They won’t find us, and they’ll move on.
Sweat rolled down Lark’s face. Why was it getting so hot? All the trapped body heat?
“Kennedy, turn on that infrared camera and sweep the woods.” It was the leader’s voice.
“Sure thing, but it’ll pick up our guys too.”
“They’re far enough away by now. Go slow and be meticulous. We lost them about seventy-five meters back, so start there and work your way back to this trailhead. They could be hiding.”
“Yes, sir.” A low hum sliced the silence. Gunshots cracked in the distance.
“Did you find them?” the man barked.
“Maybe,” returned an indistinct voice through static.
They have radios, Lark assumed.
“False alarm. Just some quail.”
“Keep searching.” The radio clicked off.