18% Gray by Anne Tenino Page B

didn’t clear the top.
    “Maybe you should let me keep an eye on them and you should be checking out other possibilities. You know, try and get in the open. Line of sight and all.” Couldn’t James pick up brain waves from a long way away? “Could the container be blocking you?”
    James looked a bit startled. “Yeah. Not used to the range I have now. Wasn’t thinking.”
    Matt crawled to James’s position as quietly as possible. He hadn’t been silent coming out of the container, but they subbed their voices to preserve every advantage they might have. James pointed out the other men’s positions, nodded at Matt and left.
    Nothing happened in the five minutes James was gone, except one of their “guests” proved he was a fidgeter. The willow brush he hid behind kept wiggling.
    James tapping on his shoulder startled him a little. Matt managed to stop himself from jumping. James gave him a disgusted look, but said, “Quite a few guys are coming right up the ravine, I think, from the south. Never saw them, but I was getting, I don’t know, a ricochet or something. Nothing from the west but some kids, I think we can make it out that way, if we can find someplace where those guys can’t see us.” He indicated their watchers with his head.
    “You didn’t find a path out?”
    “Thought we’d better move together, I don’t know how close the others are. Still don’t know my range.”
    Crap. They moved to the southern edge of the container, closer to the unknown threat, but away from the known danger. They could only go so far before they would be visible to Mr. Shaky Bush, in the southernmost position. “Hey, can you get a read on the guy who keeps fidgeting? What’s up with that?”
    “Um, something’s bugging him. Physically. Maybe bug bites? Or… bugs?”
    “Can you try your mental judo on him? Make him more distracted? Might get more distance before we’re exposed.”
    “I can try and amplify his agitation. You’ll have to search, though, ’cause I can’t do both at once.” There was a moment of silence. Then James broke out in a slow smile. Matt was a little dazed. Had he ever seen James smile before? He wanted to see it again. It was a great smile.
    “Okay, got him.” Matt whapped himself upside the head lightly to get his head back in the game. James looked at him strangely. “Dammit, got distracted, lost him. Okay, got him again.”
    Okay then, no distracting the psychic warrior. Matt moved south, keeping to the sparse vegetation as much as possible. Two meters past where they were visible to Mr. Fidgety, he found a tiny gulley in the side of the ravine. It was dry and sunk into the dirt maybe twenty-five to thirty centimeters. At best. Yay. Vertical belly-crawling.
    When he turned back toward James, he saw the willow brush shaking so hard little clods of dirt were rolling down the wall of the ravine. Matt smirked his way back to James. “Found it; let’s go.”
    They made it to the little wash without attracting the attention of the fidgeter, but James had sweat beading his forehead. Matt could feel his concentration half on following Matt’s boots and half on the guy he was distracting. “Shit,” James hissed. He must have lost it again. Matt was just in the wash, and James went for the land-speed record in army crawl and crowded in behind him, pushing the whole length of his body into Matt’s. His groin was against Matt’s ass, the muscles in his chest hard against Matt’s back.
    Uhn. Matt tried not to shiver. And tried to refocus on the objective. What was it?
    Oh, yeah. Escape with life intact.
    James nudged him to get Matt moving. He moved.
    Once he reached the top of the ravine, Matt stayed flat and rolled away from the edge. James rolled up next to him without incident.
    Then something hit Matt in the thigh. He was on his back, reaching for his weapon, searching the open space behind them.
    A crowd of preteen kids was staring at them. A football was lying on the grass