“I don’t know what to do about the truck,” Frank said as they walked down the
road to gather the last of their stuff. “It will take forever to get it to the house, and
it won’t do us much good if we can’t find fuel. I’m worried someone will see it and
make their way up to our place.”
As they approached the truck, Wright was the first to notice the footprints in
the rain-softened earth. They came from the opposite direction, one they hadn’t
explored. “Who do you think this is?” he asked nervously.
“I don’t know,” Frank answered. “Could be most anyone. Whoever it is, he
knows we’re here. All the more reason to carry one of those pistols when we’re
away from the camp. One thing though, he didn’t bother anything, just had a look
around. That tells us something.”