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The wind crept up the canyon wall as Jedidiah neared its edge. He could hear the screams on the wind, but could not discern whether they were screams of play or panic. On his belly now, he crawled the last few inches to gaze out over the lowlands below his perch, high on the cliffs. Even though the cabin was well over a half-a-mile away, the flames told the story. By the light of the fire combined with the bright moon overhead, he could see frantic figures moving about the burning structure in the distance. Jedidiah shook his head thinking how preventable this was had someone been more mindful of the fire. At that, he lifted himself up a few inches, backing away from the edge to disappear back into the darkness, when he stopped short for a better look. He had surveyed this valley several times before as he passed through the territory. And, though he had never made himself known to them, he knew that the cabin was occupied by a family of five. Why then did he see so many figures? He couldn’t be certain, but he thought he counted at least fifteen people moving around the burning cabin and surrounding out-buildings. He continued to cautiously back away from the edge before raising himself up to a crouching position. Once he was well clear of the cliff and into the tree line, he stood up and made his way back to his pack that was stashed in the dark of the forest. The thick canopy overhead blocked the moonlight, but he found his binoculars with sure hands and, turning back to the cliff’s edge, he made his way back down with the same meticulous care he had used in his first approach. Bringing the binoculars to his eyes, he could see that this wasn’t just the results of a poorly tended fire. These were not just screams of panic, but screams of terror. He could see that the man he knew to be the husband and father had his hands bound and was hanging upside down from the front porch as the house burned down around him. A handful of men stood over the rest of the family watching him squirm and scream as the flames licked his body. While the family screamed and the men laughed, the burning man’s wife suddenly lunged from the ground striking one of the men in the head with a rock she had gripped firmly in her hand. She grabbed the wounded man’s scattergun as he fell to the ground and with lethal precision put her husband out of his misery. Instantly, one of the other men shot her dead. Jedidiah watched as the flame exploded from the muzzles, waiting for the report of the weapons he knew would follow. And as the crack of the shots reached his ears, his body began to react.
Within seconds, he had his pack on and was moving toward the homestead. Given the terrain, he figured he could close the distance within ten minutes and, as he moved through the trees and underbrush, he began to do a mental check of his combat load. He knew he had a full thirteen-round magazine in his side arm and two full thirty-round magazines for his rifle. That could hardly be called a “combat load” in terms of ammunition, but he’d have to make do. Jedidiah had a habit of routinely touching his sheathed knife as he moved to ensure it stayed put, so he knew it was right where it belonged. He began to run through the picture in his mind of what he had just seen. He remembered seeing approximately four or five men standing around the surviving family, and the rest seemed to be preoccupied with the out-buildings. Though he was outnumbered, he hoped to use the numbers to his advantage and all of the activity as concealment.
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After Jedidiah offered his services and observed the obvious signs of relief on their faces, he stood up and began heading closer to the tree line back in the direction of the homestead. The boys’ hearts began beating so hard they thought Jedidiah was sure to hear it.
“Are we going in right now?” John whispered to Adam.
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