Unless you fail to make the turn.
― Helen Keller
Dangerous Territory
You have to reconnoiter your enemy to exploit his weakness, but of course, that very action puts you at risk. It seemed like madness itself, akin to breaking into prison, to try to conceal myself in a patrol vehicle but it was the only way I could sneak back into town.
Frank and I decided to spend some time observing the patrol's routines to determine if there was a pattern to their movements. After spending an entire day and night hiding in the woods observing the house, it was obvious there was a set schedule and the men rotated in shifts.
It seemed every eight hours a truck arrived with fresh supplies and two men would leave the yard and drive it back into town.
Fortunately the vehicle was a stake truck, partly covered with a tarp. If I could climb into the back and conceal myself, I could ride back into town and leap off somewhere near the outskirts where I wouldn't be seen.
Well, such was the plan...but executing it would be a totally different thing.
"We'll do it tonight under cover of darkness," Frank whispered, "and if I see you're in any danger, I'll create a distraction by collapsing that old windmill used for pumping well water."
He pointed to the rickety steel tower topped by circular blades turning in the wind.
"You want to bring that down―won't that put you in danger?"
"Naw," Frank smiled. "While you were scouting their movements, I snuck up through the long grass and tied a long rope to one of the rusty footings. One good tug and the whole thing will topple over and make quite a clatter."
"Let's hope you don't have to do it―I'm kind of partial to that old relic. It adds some quaint charm to the place."
Frank shook his head and chuckled. "That should be the least of your worries."
At ten o'clock that night Frank's words came back to haunt me. He was right as always. The loss of a windmill was nothing compared to risking my life.
My plan had seemed simple in theory but crawling several hundred yards through long grass while trying to stay quiet was more difficult than I thought.
My fear of being caught magnified every sound I heard especially when lying flat on my belly only fifty feet from the two men waiting to be relieved.
I could hear every word they were saying and could even smell the pungent odour of their cigarettes.
The truck was late and I ended up lying out in the grass for about an hour. The men were angry at the delay and it added to my angst. They'd be in a foul mood and would not be patient if they discovered me.
Finally, the truck rumbled in and the four men began off-loading supplies. The task took about ten minutes and just when I thought I could endure no more, the two men came out and climbed into the cab. That was my cue to act.
I got up onto all fours but was dismayed to find my limbs cramped and stiff and wasn't sure I could scurry quickly enough to reach the tail gate of the truck which was now slowly pulling out.
The anxiety made my body tingle and panic seized me. I stumbled and almost fell, but quickly recovered enough to push myself forward and grasp hold of the bed of the truck and in sheer desperation, pull myself up.
I lay back panting gazing up at the stars as the truck jounced over ruts in the road.
One pot hole almost made me roll off the back, so I forced myself to scramble forward to the front of the truck and press my back firmly up against the cab.
At least Frank didn't have to enact his emergency plan and my quaint windmill was spared. I could only wish the same luck for me.
I could hear the men laughing and talking, happy they were finally done for the night. I grabbed hold of the tarp and pulled it over me so I'd be concealed in case a vehicle followed us.
I checked the time on my cell phone knowing the trip into town would take at least twenty minutes. I resolved that when I was close to the town limits, I'd look for a place to jump off.
I knew there were no stop signs or traffic lights on county lanes so I had to pray the truck would slow for a bend, otherwise I'd end up trapped in the police compound―and out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Not the best outcome for me.