Jim sat in the trench for a while, a gentle breeze blowing through.  Normally, the wind was always a welcome event to cool down the body, but It almost felt stolen, like he didn’t deserve it due to the problem he now had caused.  

For hours now, Jim and Sam sat in their trench, throwing ideas back and forth, none were very good, some were downright suicide.  Neither of them could come up with a plausible way to rescue the crew without being seen by anyone.  Sure, Sam could light another fire, but there was never a guarantee of a thunder storm passing through.  Even if they had a couple of days to work with, it would be a really tight window for Jim to try and inform Connor who could then inform Veronica and Lydia, but that coordination alone would be a nightmare.  They only had twenty four hours until Machete Max started doing God knows what to the prisoners.  Jim didn’t really want to find out what.

More hours passed by and there was mostly silence between the two of them.  Every idea was bad and worse.  Occasionally, Machete Max would announce the remaining time, always with a false sense of security.   Either he was trying and failing miserably at sounding like a friend, or he was actually a psychopath.  One could only hope for the first thought, but reality, fearfully, suggested otherwise.

Night was beginning to fall and the world showed no signs of rain, only a gentle breeze. An owl hooted off in the distance somewhere, welcoming the incoming moon.  The moon itself was almost to the end of its cycle before a new moon would begin.

Jim would check the fortress through his scope every now and again, hoping to see something he hadn’t seen before, hoping for any new idea that might occur to him.  

“Okay, Sam, we’ve gone over just about every possible plan that we could come up with and none of them sound very good.” Jim spoke, frustrated.

Sam had nothing really to say in response, he merely grunted and also kept an eye on things.

“Say, Jim, what was that thing that your buddy down there did?” Sam asked

“What do you mean?” Jim asked in return

“I’ve seen some signals in my time, but I've never quite seen one like that.  The jaw scratching thing.  It wasn’t very subtle, your buddy scratched the entire length of the tree line a few times.  No one is that itchy.” Sam asked, chuckling

“You noticed that, huh?” Jim asked, smiling. “It’s something I came up with a few weeks back.  In our previous situation, there was someone we didn’t trust and we needed a way to figure things out as a group without his knowledge.  That scratch meant we were to meet up later on that night and discuss things.”

“I hope it was far more subtle back then, otherwise, that untrustworthy fella already knew something was goin’ on.” Sam chuckled

“It’s a long story, but long story short, yes, yes he did.” Jim chuckled in return, the absurdity catching up to him.  

A laughing fit between them broke out, and they stifled it as best as they could.  Considering everything that had been happening, the break from stress was very necessary, even if only for a minute or two.

“What did you say your buddy’s name was again?” Sam asked, suddenly.

“Connor, why?” Jim responded, curiously.

“Because I think your buddy has made his way back to the fence.”Sam announced, surprisingly.

Jim turned his head immediately, scope in hand.  It didn’t take him long to focus on the fence.  There he was, Connor! Why was Connor risking his life at the fence, just in case Jim was there?  He probably knew better than anyone what kind of coverage the guards have.

“He’s there for you, I'm bettin’” Sam said, forebodingly.  “I think he’s waitin’ for you to make your grand appearance.  You gonna do it?”

“I have to, I have no other choice.” Jim said, feeling dread and anxiety at the thought of crossing that field.  “In a moment, I’m gonna have a small window, both guards are gonna turn around to grab a cigarette and light it up, their both on similar schedules, every half hour or so.”

“Well, I’ll be a son of a gun, you have been paying attention.” Sam said, very impressed. “It’s your show boss, if things get hairy, I’ll try and distract them somehow.”

With that knowledge, Jim looked back to where Connor was sitting.  He was sitting on the ground in the dark, trading views between the surrounding woods, and the night sky.  Jim couldn’t help but wonder where Lydia was, or Veronica for that matter.

Jim glanced up at the guard towers, and right on cue, they both set their weapons against the hand rail and reached behind them for a cigarette.  Jim wasted no time.

“Cover me!” he whispered to Sam.

Jim swiftly crawled out of the trench and took off in a full on sprint.  He kept as low to the ground as possible and watched his footing carefully so as not to make too much noise.  He knew he only had a minute or two to get to the fence, and then he was stuck there for about forty minutes, or until Sam gave him a signal that the coast was clear.

It was a very dark night.  The moon above was nearly finished and casting minimal light, but it was just enough to find his footing.  He was only a handful of yards away from Connor.  Jim could barely make out the glow of the guards’ lanterns beginning to reemerge from their towers, and made a leap toward the nearest wall.  Luckily the noise was successfully minimal.  Jim crept along the wall very closely, he could see Connor mere feet from him, his head was leaning back against a wall, his eyes were closed.  Jim approached the fence where Connor lay and got very close to him.

“Connor.” Jim whispered.

Connor was ripped out of sleep and jerked his head toward Jim.  Connor’s eyes lit up when he saw Jim in front of him.

“Oh my God, Jim!” Connor exclaimed.

Jim was very quick to hush him with a finger over his lips.

“We don’t have very long to talk, but, damn it’s good to see you again.” Jim whispered excitedly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring Veronica and Lydia along with me, but they have separate areas for the men and women.  They know about the symbol you drew, but it would’ve been far too dangerous to try and sneak them over, this Machete Max guy is no joke.  He cut a man in half, just for asking him a question.” Connor said, relaying news.

“So I’ve heard, but it went a little farther than that.” Jim replied.

“How do you know?” Connor asked, bewildered.

“I have some help on the outside here, his name is Sam, without him, I wouldn’t be here.” Jim said.

“And you trust this guy?” Connor asked, skeptical.

“Yes, he’s given me no reason not to.  Him and I have been trying to plan a way to get the three of you out of there. We;ve come up with-” Jim started to say.

“I’ll stop you right there.” Connor cut in.  “Don’t bother, Machete Max has this place sewn up tight.  He’s also extremely paranoid, and a full-on psychopath.  If you try and break us out of here with him still here, somehow he knows about everything that happens in here.  I don’t know how he does it, but, you can’t even cough without him knowing about it.  He’s also extremely superstitious, there was this one guy who started sneezing uncontrollably, and Machete Max had him thrown in a hole, and the local priest here was forced to perform blessings over the man.  No one has seen the guy since.” Connor spoke with fear in his voice.

“What do you suggest we do then?” Jim asked, feeling a little defeated.

“Distract Machete Max somehow.  That last storm that ripped through here started a fire or something, and it forced him out of the fortress to oversee the extinguishing of it.  It gave me a chance to actually check on the girls and see how they were holding up.”

Jim smiled a little.

“That fire wasn’t caused by the storm.” Jim said, a glint in his eye.

“You mean, you?” Connor asked.

“No, Sam.  So I could sneak down here and draw that symbol.” Jim said, very impressed with himself.

“You should have heard Machete Max talking about that thing.  At first he actually thought a demon made it because the tracks simply stopped and didn’t go anywhere.  The priest, of all people, had to convince him otherwise, but he performed a blessing on it to make Max feel better.  The priest pointed to the cross and claimed it to be divine intervention.  The priest claimed it was a sign of God’s judgement.  I personally knew what it was as soon as I saw it.  It was then and there that I knew for sure that you were alive.  I can’t even tell you how relieved the girls were to know that as well.  Veronica misses you dearly.”  Connor paused.  “If you’re gonna get us out of here, make it soon.  God only knows what this animal Machete Max will start doing at noon to make us talk.  Just remember, he needs to be removed from the picture, even if only temporarily for you guys to get us out of here.” 

Jim listened to every word Connor had said, and had a far deeper understanding of the sick individual they were all dealing with.  He knew something had to be done quickly.  Waiting for Machete Max and his antics weren’t ideal, but something had to come to him.

Jim realized he had been talking to Connor for longer than he should have when he noticed Sam using the scope from the treeline to signal him.  Connor noticed the signal as well when Jim looked.   Connor looked back at Jim.

“You’ve gotta get out of here brother.  Figure something out with that Sam guy, but don’t get yourself killed on our account, you’re no help to us dead.” Connor was only half joking.

“As your captain, it’s my job and duty to lay down my life for any one of you.  One way or another, I’m getting you guys out of here and we’re gonna travel so far away that Machete Max will have no chance whatsoever in finding us.  That, I can promise you.” Jim said, never breaking his gaze from Connor.

With that, both of them nodded at each other and Connor started making his way back.  Jim turned around and decided to retrace his steps.

Jim slowly retraced his steps, his head peeking over his shoulder occasionally to verify the guards were still busy.  Jim made his way back to the trench and found Sam laying back and making room for Jim.

“Anything helpful as far as intel?” Sam asked.

“Some.  Nothing too good though.  This guy Machete Max is a full-on psycho, absolutely psychotic.  The best advice I got out of Connor was to distract him somehow, some way.” Jim spoke, a little winded from his trip uphill.

“Doesn’t surprise me.  That guy’s got bad news written all over him.  And as far as distracting him? Even if we could, he’s still got all those guards, you’d never make it all out in time.  That fence, even if we were to cut it, at night, the guards would hear it.  In the rain, there would be tracks leading them right to us.  During ‘the day’ won’t be good for obvious reasons.  I don’t know Jim, this whole thing stinks.  It stinks worse than a pig rolling around in his own waste.”

Even with the information that Connor had given Jim, there were still no good ideas.  It made Jim feel physically ill that they had come this far, and a plausible idea for rescue had still continued to elude them.  Jim would have to sleep on the idea.  A fresh mind, bright and early would, perhaps, give Jim that spark of genius necessary to figure this whole thing out.  Once out, they’d run as far away from this place as humanly possible, and if Sam wanted to tag along, well, Jim would be okay with that.