Part Three: Dammit Janet

You walk the trail for a while, swapping banter and taking in the nice breeze. It’s quiet out this way, save for the gentle hum of nature going about it’s business.

You’re still on land that Boulder has claimed as its own. The path is wide, and well set out. You haven’t yet reached the place where the local government gave up, and turned the trail over to nature; where human feet would have to stamp in its own trail.

Just as you do, as you reach the bollards that indicate that territorial line, there’s a figure in the road. You turn the corner around some shrubbery and there he is, standing in plain view, a bright orange high-vis vest and a clip board in hand.

He turns, suddenly startled by your coming on, and he smiles. He waves, as if you announce that he’s not a threat. And then steps into your path.

"Morning, folks!" cheerful.

"What brings you out this way?" he steps further up and into your way, throwing out his hand to one side and the clipboard to the other to stop you on the trail for a moment.

"The great outdoors, eh? You and everyone else." the man gives a hearty chuckle, though it was doubtful that one was needed.

"Well, uh, we’re…" he indicates to the official looking badge hanging around his neck.

"… we’re just warning folk about possible gang activity out this way. Yessiree, we’ve heard tell of robberies going on. Violent attacks, too! It’s a dangerous place to be. Especially for a group of kids such as yourselves!" There’s a smile plastered to the round man’s face as he gives the warning.

"We’re on the look out, don’t your worry."

Should you worry or not worry? The smile doesn’t indicate either way.

"Just doing my job, ma’am." he says with that same smile.

"Throw to the wolves?" he laughs that same chuckle. "No. No. I’m sure you’re all good, upstanding citizens."

Suggesting that if you weren’t, perhaps being thrown to wolves might be on the table?…

"Hearing lots of things, young fella. You all just watch yourself out here!"

For half a moment, you think he might try to stop you. And maybe he does… until he finally relents and steps out of your way. He waves you off, turning to watch you go.

Should you look back again…

The man stands there, and gives you one final wave as you crest the hill and go over the top.

As soon as he thinks you are out of sight, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out what appears to be a radio, and mutters into it. You’re too far to hear what he says, but as soon as the radio is back in his pocket, he abandons his position and slinks off into the wilderness, if you could even call it that yet.

You travel a little further into the woodland, and the terrain begins to take on a shape similar to what you remember of the summer camp all those years ago (and alllll those years ago too).

It’s quiet, save for the birds, and peaceful. You aim for the Pumping Plant, which peaks out, at times, amongst the trees. Brief glimpses, and the worn path are all there is to help you navigate through the woods. Still, it’s hard to feel too down about things out here. It’s calming…

And then there’s a kind of patter coming up behind you. In the trees, ever so slightly. It doesn’t take long for the noise to make its way closer, and you see two brilliant blue coats against the foliage. They keep coming, and Faye’s warning comes to mind again.

On they come, closer and closer, and then they’re are on the path not far behind you. Approaching. You can see their faces, and they yours. Binoculars hang around their necks, and they have a map in hand. The man carries a small white book with bold green letters on the cover.

Birds of North America.

"Morning!" they both say, as they march on by. They give you a friendly, wide smile as they pass, and continue on up the trail ahead.