The third night of travel with the Humboldt Column brought an end to our uneasy peace. We had set up a cold camp deep within a thicket of scrub oak, nestled beneath the towering, dark silhouette of the Humboldt range. The increased confidence from our successful integration had perhaps led to a dangerous relaxation of vigilance. The silence, which had been broken only by the low, coded whispers of the rotating guards, was shattered around 0200 hours by a sound more primal and terrifying than the static of the radio: the howling of hounds.
These weren't feral dogs; these were large, trained, and clearly hostile animals, the terrifying signature of a well-organized bandit group. They were hunting us, using the deep night and the cover of the terrain to mask their approach. The sound immediately galvanized the camp. Valerie, who had been sleeping lightly, was instantly awake and issuing rapid, low-voiced commands. I was on the comms, listening for any tell-tale radio chatter, while Lexi and Jesse grabbed their gear, their eyes wide but focused.
"They're sweeping the area, trying to flush us," Valerie muttered, her rifle already in hand. "Kael, take the north perimeter. Sam, keep the truck secured. James, you and Lexi use the perimeter alarms to track their movement. If they get too close, we break formation and scatter into the dark." Her plan was sound, prioritizing survival over supplies, but the thought of splitting up now filled me with cold dread.
Lexi, with her quartermaster knowledge, knew the geography of our small camp layout intimately. She quickly moved to the nearest tree, listening intently. "The dogs are moving from the south-west, two separate lines," she reported, her voice low and tense. "They're wide, forcing us toward the open ground to the east." Her analysis was rapid and accurate, confirming the tactical nature of the attack.
Suddenly, the night erupted. Kael, guarding the north perimeter, shouted a warning just before the crack of a suppressed rifle echoed through the woods. The bandits were closer than we thought. One of Valerie's original team members, a young woman named Zara, let out a sharp cry as she took a grazing hit to the shoulder. Immediate triage and counter-fire were now necessary.
Jesse, despite the chaos, moved with the steady focus of his medical training. He scrambled toward Zara, directing the meager lamplight onto her wound while yelling commands to keep her still. "It's a through-and-through, not deep, but she's bleeding! Need cover!" His voice was commanding, overriding the noise of the approaching danger.
Simultaneously, Lexi and I provided the covering fire that proved our loyalty beyond a doubt. I fired three quick, accurate shots toward the muzzle flash Kael had identified, buying them precious seconds. Lexi, instead of firing wildly, focused on the perimeter alarms she had helped set up. When the dogs tripped one of the tripwires near the south flank, she immediately fired a controlled burst in that direction, not at the sound of the dogs, but at the sound of the men attempting to move in after them. Her discipline was extraordinary, prioritizing the human threat over the animal one.
The combination of the coordinated defense—Kael's and my suppressing fire, Lexi's tactical targeting, and Jesse's swift medical action—bought us the time we needed. Valerie used the distraction to throw smoke grenades scavenged from the truck, creating a thick, blinding cloud.
"Move! Follow me!" Valerie shouted, leading the column in a forced retreat through the smoke-filled brush, moving perpendicular to the hounds' initial sweep. We moved fast, with Jesse supporting the wounded Zara, and Lexi and I providing rear guard, ensuring no one was left behind.
As we ran, I glanced back and saw Kael hesitate, looking directly at me. He had the opportunity to retreat faster, but he waited a beat, confirming that Lexi and I were indeed moving with the main column, not seizing the chance to flee or betray them. His nod, brief and grudging, was the final confirmation of our allegiance. We had passed the ultimate test. We hadn't just proven our skills; we had proven our commitment to the Humboldt Column's survival under fire, forging a bond of shared danger that transcended the tension of the previous days. The pursuit continued behind us, but for now, we were alive, and we were together.