The three men sat in the jeep, hidden by trees, with the neighbor's home sitting a few yards away in a sea of mist. The man was an alcoholic whose wife left him after growing tired of picking him up from the drunk tank several nights a month. Most people said he had it coming, and some saw him as a public nuisance, while others felt bad for him.

"I told Clara not to help Gregory, but she always sees the good in people," Gunner said with a click of the slide on his gun. "But at least he won't be a problem after tonight."

Just then, a set of headlights lit up the weathered facade of the old house as a truck snaked up the driveway. The tires crunched over the gravel before coming to a halt, followed by the ticking of the engine as the driver's side door opened with a squeak. A tall man dressed in faded overalls with twig legs and an oversized pot-belly slid out, grunting.

"A'right, Gregory, wait for me to come around. I've got ya."

"Why duzzint Annabeth want to come home to me, Carl? We was s'good together," he slurred.

"A'right buddy, we'll get you inside and get you to bed!" the man said, rounding the front of the truck.

"I don't want to, Carl!"

"Well, you gotta," he said, opening the passenger door.

A loud cry bounced off of the trees as Gregory's mouth fell open, "Why don't Annabeth wanna be with me no more? We was s'good together."

"Well, Greg, maybe you wasn't as good together as you thought," Carl huffed, hoisting him up by the shoulder.

"Whatchu mean?"

"I mean," Carl grunted and took a few steps towards the house. "I mean, you is a drunk, and you need to stop being such a blabbermouth. Hell, when Annabeth's mother died, you went and got yourself good and hammered at the funeral. Then right after hooking up with her cousin at the reception, you told everybody how happy you was the poor woman keeled over! And let's not forget about tonight."

"What about tonight?"

"Telling everybody in the bar you've got the hots for Clara!"

"I did not!"

"Oh, yes, you did!" Carl huffed, stomping up the creaky porch steps. "Saying a bunch of nonsense about how you love watching her walk around in her tight jeans as she witches water on your property. What the hell's the matter with you?"

"I'm no dummy!" Gregory shouted as Carl kicked the front door open. "But man, Clara sure do have a backside that makes me forget about my wife."

His drunk laughter faded as the door closed behind them, and Gunner snuck across the yard, before pressing against the side of the home—waiting to strike.

"We'll move when Carl leaves," he whispered to Archibald and Jasper, who crouched beside him. "He's a good man and doesn't need to be part of this. Once he's gone, I'll slip inside while you two stand watch. This should be easy. In and out."

"What about the Scout camp?" Jasper asked.

"My cousin Abraham tracked it down. We'll meet up with him after this so he can tell us the location."

The front door squeaked open, forcing them to go silent as Carl walked down the porch steps with a heavy sigh.

"Damn fool," he muttered, and hopper into his vehicle.

As soon as he drove away, Gunner slipped inside the house with the old floorboards complaining under his feet. A lit table lamp with a missing a shade cast shadows over the stacks of moldy newspapers sitting around the perimeter of the living room. Cigarette smoke, body odor, and stale booze filled his nostrils as he passed from one room to the next. Unable to stand the stench, Gunner used his shirt's collar to cover his nose while crossing into the kitchen. A cat lapped at the dirty dishes piled high in the sink and hissed at him before going back to a plate with crusted pasta sauce.

"What a mess." Gunner shook his head as his eyes roamed.

Gregory's snoring echoed down the hallway as Gunner tiptoed around stacks of garbage, and headed straight for the last door on the left. When he pushed inside, the man was lying on his back with muddy boots still on. The scuffed floorboards creaked under Gunner's feet, causing Gregory's eyes to flutter. He raised his gun and at the sound of a click, the man's eyes finally opened wide to the weapon aimed at him.

"You know what, Gregory?"

"Whoa, wait a sec!" he pleaded, giving opportunity for Gunner to slide the barrel into his mouth, muffling his words.

"You're right. Clara has a nice backside, but that's for my eyes only. Good night. Can't say I'll miss you."

Outside, Archibald and Jasper saw a quick flash of light from a far window followed by an echo across the dry field. A few minutes passed as they waited with a symphony of crickets chirping around them until Gunner exited the house.

"It's done?" Archibald asked.

"Yes. It'll look like a suicide. Now let's go meet up with my cousin."

"Think we can get it done before daylight?" Jasper looked up at the sky where the bright moon blinked through the swaying trees.

"Of course. This is a cakewalk for me."

"Alrighty then," Jasper replied, his eyes flashing to Archibald.

"We're doing the right thing," his father assured him with a shoulder squeeze.

"I know. I'm just worried we're getting in over our heads."

"You guys coming?" Gunner shouted from the jeep.

"We have nothing to fear. We've been through worse. Now, come on, son."

∆∆∆

Abraham waited for them on an overlook where hikers used to stop for photos of the vista below. The darkness absorbed them as they crouched at the edge and used binoculars to study the Scout camp. A small fire glowed near the river, which cut through the dense trees like trail of glitter, thanks to the moon's light.

"Ahí estan." Abraham passed the lenses to Gunner.

"Estas seguro?"

"Yes, I sure." He nodded and continued in a thick accent, "Me and Carlos follow them. Look like ten mens and three or four womens. The one from the bar had long black hair and tattoo of spider on his hand."

"I see. This should be easy then. I'll go first and take out the Scouts by the firepit. The three of you can eliminate the others."

"I show you the way." Abraham hopped to his feet.

The slope leading down to the camp was steep, forcing them to walk with their feet angled to create traction. Thanks to the darkness, their silhouettes blended with the forest as they made their descent. Noises from the Scouts drifted through the air on a dance of music notes, greeting them once they made it to the river.

After securing silencers on their weapons, Gunner signaled he was moving in. He crept along, weaving through the trees cautiously with the music becoming louder, along with the faint sound of a woman moaning. Two tents glowed like lanterns in the distance, while warm bodies slept in sleeping bags around them. A Scout sitting by the fire threw his head back with a groan.

"I swear they're just showing off!"

"You're just jealous because she chose him instead of you," the other Scout laughed.

"Yeah, well..." He huffed and turned the music louder. "I shouldn't have to hear them every night!"

Twigs breaking behind them drew their attention, but Gunner was faster as he dropped to his knees with a knife in each hand and slid them across their necks. They slapped their palms over the wounds as blood gurgled from their throats. He covered their mouths to muffle the sounds and held their heads against his chest until their arms fell to the sides.

"Sleep well," he whispered and signaled for the others.

Forming a circle with their backs pressed to one another, they reassessed their surroundings. A Scout a few yards away stirred in their sleeping bag, so Gunner signaled for Abraham to take care of it. As he tiptoed off, Jasper pointed to another Scout in the distance peeing against a tree. With a nod, Gunner gave the ok to go after him and from where he stood with Archibald, they watched Abraham give a quick jerk to the sleeping Scout's neck.

Across the way, Jasper wrapped his arms around the peeing Scout and dropped to the ground with him. After a few seconds, he rose, dragged the body behind the tree and signaled to a tent. A male Scout with long black hair exited and stretched as his naked, sweaty chest glistened in the moonlight. His pants hung low as if he pulled them on without bothering to put on underwear, and a female giggled as she poked her head out.

"Hurry back. It's cold in here without you."

"Woman, you're going to wear me out!" he groaned, and she giggled some more before retreating into the tent. He gave a quick glance around, shook his head with a sigh, and dove back inside.

From their hidden position, Gunner glanced at Abraham, who was making quick work as he moved onto another sleeping bag. Across from him, Jasper stepped away from the tree and signaled to the tent again, but Gunner shook his head.

"That one's mine." He pointed to his chest.

"I'll take care of a few sleeping bags," Archbald offered. "Or should I go for the second tent?"

"Tent."

They made their way around the camp and when he reached the tent with the lovers, he took a deep breath before slipping inside. Body heat immediately hugged him as tightly as the lovers entwined in each other's arms, prompting beads of sweat to form on his brows. They were both so consumed in the moment that neither of them noticed him. It wasn't until blood from the woman's skull splattered against the Scout's face that he realized something was wrong.

"Don't move," Gunner hissed as the man scurried for his rifle.

With a quick pull of the trigger, a bullet released from the chamber and pierced the Scout's hand. When his mouth stretched to scream, Gunner dove on top of him and shoved his face into the blankets. His body kicked and bucked underneath the weight of Gunner's hands until his neck snapped. Rolling off the limp body, he took a few deep breaths, but a familiar tiny explosion echoed through the air, making him flinch.

He sprang to his feet and burst from the tent to find Archibald tumbling out of the second tent with a Scout on top of him. They rolled across the ground, blood smearing over their arms, but who it belonged to was difficult to tell.

A few feet away, Abraham struggled with a Scout clinging to his back, but heavy footfalls grabbed Gunner's attention as someone charging towards him fired their weapon. He ducked just in time, dodging the bullet whizzing past his head.

And one by one, the remaining Scouts were waking up.

***
As always, thanks so much for reading💓