Jared followed John, watching how the other man moved through the tall dead grass like a cat. He tried to emulate John’s movements and still remain aware of his surroundings as they crept forward through the dissipating light. The two men kept in close proximity to one another as night began to wrap its arms around the countryside. With no radios or other way of communicating except through hushed whispers, the men found it imperative to remain close.
When the sun disappeared beneath the distant sea, leaving their eyes impotent in the growing darkness, John called a quick stop so they could don their night-vision goggles. John wore his while Jared kept his hanging from around his neck like he had done in the past. When Jared stole peeks through the goggle’s lenses, he wished his rifle was set up like John’s. The night was green and bright through the goggles. In contrast, it was dark and forbidding using his naked eye.
They swept up and over the top of the hill, moving down in a westerly direction before turning south. They stopped for water, remaining absolutely quiet, trying to pick up on any sounds that might have indicated they weren’t the only two-legged creatures skulking about the hills. When they were fairly sure no one was tromping about the countryside, they moved on.
The men patrolled about five hundred yards south before turning east and climbing slowly to the crest of the hill, where they crossed the hiking trail and descended east down the opposite side. What used to be a staggering array of city lights, complete with a trail of aviation lights from passenger jets heading into Oakland, San Jose and San Francisco airports, was now a black hole. John was unaffected by the blackness, but the sight nearly took Jared’s breath away. He hadn’t noticed it on their way to Woodside, but now he stopped and gaped at the nothingness. John stopped, then turned back to see why Jared had stopped.
“What’s up?” John whispered.
“It’s all gone, all of it,” Jared murmured softly. “What was once a beautiful view is now eerie.”
John looked down into the blackness. “Well, at least you don’t have a power bill now,” he said, trying to add a little levity to Jared’s mood.
Jared stared into the dark void for a second longer before hefting the rifle as an indication he was ready to keep moving. John turned and moved down the hillside, the swoosh of the grass against his pant legs the only sound in the cool night air. The two men slipped through the grass for perhaps another hundred yards before turning back to the north and heading back toward where they had bivouacked for the night.
As Jared was about to step forward through the grass, he heard the distinct clank of metal on metal and froze. Slowly, John lowered himself to a knee, with Jared following his example. They waited in absolute silence for a full ten minutes and never heard another sound.
Jared finally crawled to John’s side and pressed his face close to his ear. “You heard that, right?”
John nodded his head slowly, still peering intently into the night through his goggles, his ears straining to pick up any hint that they were not alone. Both men had heard the same clank, and both men knew for a fact that, even if they didn’t hear another sound all night, they were still not the only people out here. Jared was reasonably sure the sound had come from behind them and down the hill. The two men whispered back and forth and came to the same conclusion about the direction the sound seemed to have emanated from.
Both men agreed to return to their base camp and be on high alert until around 0400 hours. They would get up and move to the top of the hill, drop over the west side, and move for at least two miles before they stopped for anything to eat. The only good thing about hearing the clang was their sentry duty would be shorter tonight, Jared thought grimly. Then it occurred to him their sleep time would also be reduced. Two cons versus one pro was not the way he liked to live his life—before or after the event.
John and Jared returned to their campsite with no further incidents other than walking straight into the camp before either Barry or Dwight realized they were back. Their lack of situational awareness did little to ease John’s or Jared’s nerves about their watch capabilities. Jared prayed that after they briefed Barry and Dwight on the clang they heard, they just might display a higher level of awareness. After John explained they were dangerously close to an unknown group of humans, Dwight’s face drained of color.
Jared figured Dwight had lived his entire post-event life inside the safety of his little fortress and did not realize the gravity of their situation until now.
“Listen,” Jared soothed. “We heard a sound like pots or pans banging together, which tells me someone like us is stationary and making dinner or brewing coffee or whatever. They’re not out creeping around,” he ended, looking to John to back him up on this theory.
John bobbed his chin in agreement. “He’s probably right—making dinner like we were a couple of hours ago.”
“Or,” Barry interjected, “there are so many in their group they don’t care about making noise, and they’re
