Raven

“Two riders,” Jack murmured into the walkie-talkie in his left hand. He adjusted his legs, wrapping them tighter around the tree trunk so he could lift the binoculars to his eyes again with his right hand.

“Weapons?” came a crackling voice in response.

“Hard to tell,” Jack replied. “They’re wearing cloaks.” He watched the two riders approaching and a snippet from an old song his grandmother used to listen to whispered in his head (‘…two riders were approaching, and the wind began to howl…’). As if on cue, a breeze whistled through the branches around him, and Jack smiled at the synchronicity of it as he always did at life’s little coincidences.

“Radio silence,” he muttered into the radio. He lowered the binoculars and tucked them into his jacket, so the approaching strangers wouldn’t catch a glint from the lenses.

There’s a watcher. Ash heard the voice in his head. In the oak, 20 yards up on your right, about 10 feet below the top.

He cocked his head slightly to look where the voice directed him, certain that with the cloak and the hood the slight movement wouldn’t be seen by the sentry. Yes, there it was--a small patch of grey cloth.

I count three in all, continued the voice. Spaced 100 yards apart. Not dangerous, I think. Just watching so far.

Ash reached up and pushed the hood off his head. He knew that his companion wouldn’t do the same, but he always did when approaching “civilization.” He felt it made people feel less threatened…if that were even possible in this strange world.

How many days (weeks?) had it been since the last time they’d seen another living soul--or rather, another human soul.

Two and a half months. The voice in his head again. “Get out,” he mumbled.

Sorry, the voice replied.

Two and a half months. Ten weeks of roaming the countryside, and for what? In the three years he and his companion had been traveling, he often found himself wondering, especially lately, what the point of it was. What were they looking for? What did they think they would find?

He kept his face forward, never once glancing either left or right, neither up nor down. The watchers would feel more secure if they thought Ash and his companion were unaware of their presence. He felt more secure knowing that they were there, but then he had an advantage. Of course, they couldn’t know that. Just as he couldn’t know what advantages they might have.

Are they dangerous? he asked the voice in his head, silently.

They’re frightened, the voice replied.

As they should be, he thought. As I would be…if not for you.

The sentries remained in their places until the two strangers had ridden past. Jack was the first to scamper down out of his perch. Neither of the riders had looked anywhere but at the road ahead of them, but one had removed his hood. Jack lifted the walkie-talkie.

“At least one is male,” he said. “Still don’t know if they’re armed.”

From tree to tree along the side of the road, he followed the two riders, staying far enough behind so as not to attract their attention. When he reached the next sentry, he beckoned her down, and the two continued along behind the two riders.