She set up camp with her truck faced outward for a quick escape and in a way that it blocked anyone from entering with a vehicle. She started a fire. The flames danced across the logs, billowing smoke into the air. No point in trying to hide when the people chasing you already know where you are. The smell of burned wood filled Allison’s nose, and she yearned for s’mores. She took some water from the river, boiled it, and repeated this process until all of her water-holding devices were full of sterilized water. She boiled one last pot of water and used it to clean herself as best she could without removing her clothes. Getting attacked by Collectors while naked was not on her to-do list. She had freeze dried chili for dinner by the crackling fire and plotted how her night would unfold.
Darkness washed over the landscape, swallowing everything it touched. Allison extinguished the fire before climbing into her truck. Are they watching me now? Allison locked both truck doors and rested on her back as if she were sleeping. She listened, but the only sound drifting in the air was the low hum of crickets. She took some duct tape from her bag and obscured the overhead light in the truck with multiple layers. When she finished, she felt in the dark with her hands making sure she covered the entire thing without missing a single spot. She slipped down onto the floorboard of the driver’s side and slowly opened the door. The cab of the truck remained dark, the overhead light successfully masked by layers of tape. Allison exhaled in relief. How long was I holding my breath? She slid out of the truck and silently pushed the door closed until she heard it quietly click. She hesitated and listened again. Just the crickets. Allison rested her hand on the cool metal of her pistol hidden in her waistband as she sprinted off through the trees to the road.
She followed the street back around to the front of the campground, concealing herself in foliage as she traveled. She searched through the trees looking at all the camping spots she passed; no sign of the black truck could be found. It’s unlikely they would venture in here to camp themselves. It would be too easy to be caught. But they’re close. The vegetation brushed against her skin as she slowly made her way in the dark. It didn’t take long for her eyes to adjust, but it was near impossible to make out her surroundings except for the few areas illuminated by solar-powered street lights. She looped around, still following the road, and came to the front of the campground, which was still deserted. She continued to follow the road, staying within the forest edge, in the direction she drove in from.
A quarter mile from the campground, she spotted a fire in the distance. Gotcha. She positioned her hand on the grip of her gun while she slowly approached. She tried to control her breathing, to ease the shaking of her body. The familiar heat rolled in her stomach, staying right below the surface for now. Faint voices flowed across the landscape, too inaudible to make out the words. The smoke from their fire reached Allison, but this time it didn’t trigger a desire for s’mores. A pang of pain overwhelmed Allison’s hand as she remembered the burn she received from the fire pit when she was nine. Danger. Allison shook her hand until the feeling passed and continued her excursion toward the unsuspecting campers.
Thankfully, the ground was relatively clear. She strolled, taking her time so she silently blended into obscurity. As she approached the source of the smoke, the voices grew louder, more distinguished, and she could make out three figures near the fire. Allison’s heart danced a jive in her chest as she observed the camp. The black truck was parked between the fire and the main road. She increased her speed as her pulse thumped in her ears and the heat in her belly set the butterflies alight. They scrambled wildly through her torso, begging to be freed. Allison hit a large log with her lower half and froze as the thud echoed through the trees.
“What was that?” a man said, as he looked off into the woods.
“Just an animal, probably a raccoon. How about you go catch it, Joe?” teased another man.
“How about you fucking go catch it if you want it so bad?” Joe grumbled.
He was standing near the truck, looking into the woods. Joe was tall with blond hair and black clothes. His hips were fitted with holsters holding at least two guns.
“Why don’t you both just shut the fuck up?” said a woman as she walked toward the men from the opposite side of the truck. Allison’s breath caught in her throat and she covered her mouth to suppress a gasp. The woman was Nurse Catherine. Bitch.
“Aww, we were just joking around, boss. Just blowing off some steam,” the second man said. He was sitting on the ground near the fire, leaning against a log. His weapon was in pieces on a rag in front of him and he was meticulously cleaning each piece. The man’s bald head reflected the firelight like a beacon. He was heavyset and had a scar across his face big enough that it was visible to Allison even at a distance. He wore all black like Joe.
“We are here to do a job, not blow off steam. Am I clear Joe, Kevin? We need to be on our A-game at all times,” Catherine said as she sat down on the tailgate of the truck, eating something from a bag.
“Yes, ma’am,” both men replied as Joe sat
