The Ninth by Benjamin Schramm Page B

be ready to stop at any moment, eyes on the ground,” Brent whispered.
    Again, Brent and his team inched ahead; the instructor was still examining the east side.  Before long, they reached the edge of the woods.  There were no more trees between them and the fortress.  Brent was wondering how best to approach when he heard two thumps almost simultaneously.  At once, Brent and his entire group came to a dead stop, dropping flat on the ground.  He could still make out the west facing light moving on its patrol path, but he couldn’t see the south or east.  Owen’s group must have needed more cover, but the question was, were they in the south section with him or the east.  This would be the third time the south had been hit and the second for the east.  The instructor must have figured out he was being played with.
    A bigger problem was what to do about the final stretch.  There was meager cover after the woods ended and no trees to steal cover from.  The only thing Brent had on his side was that the instructor could only see one direction at a time.  However, with all the activity on the south, the instructor would be suspicious of anything else they did.  Brent shifted his gaze toward the tree Dante had hit in the west.  It was a far distance into the west side, maybe far enough to distract the instructor.
    Suddenly, the searchlight came directly over him.  The brush immediately around him was as bright as if it was day again.  He held absolutely still.  If the instructor had spotted him, he wouldn’t give away the rest of his group.  The light slowly continued along the extreme edge of the woods; the instructor hadn’t spotted him.  After an additional pass of the edge, the light returned to its patrol path.  Brent gazed up and found the instructor analyzing the east side carefully.  Owen was most likely in the east or southeast and was likely pinned under the inspector’s gaze.
    “Dante, I want you to hit another tree to your left, as far as you can,” Brent whispered.
    Dante heaved another branch deep into the west and ducked his head before it even hit the tree.  The light in the west focused, and the instructor hesitantly panned over to the west.  Brent stared in the direction he thought Owen to be and urged him with every fiber of his being to take the opportunity and close to the fortress.  A few moments later a dull thud could be heard in the distance.  None of the lights he could see altered from their patrol patterns in any way.  The sound must have come from the north.  Owen had returned the favor.  Brent eyed the instructor like a hawk, waiting for the movement of the chair.  It began to pan to the north.
    “This is it.  Double time!” Brent put as much force in his whisper as he could.  “Move as fast as you can without making noise, stop only if the light falls on you.  Go!”
    He launched ahead, crawling at a speed near that of walking.  While the area ahead was devoid of leaves, making for poor cover, the lack of leaves also meant there wasn’t anything for them to step on inadvertently and give them away.  Swiftly and silently his group approached the fortress, only stopping once as the light scanned over them.  However, with the instructor’s attention in the north, the few leafy clumps in the middle of the barren clearing went unnoticed by the automated searchlight.  As Brent reached the structure, he saw Owen’s team nearing the fortress from the east.  He waited as Owen’s group got closer, and then all eight touched the fortress in unison.  As soon as they made contact, the night ended and the sun quickly rose to noon.
    “What in the world?” came the booming voice of the instructor as he searched for the recruits.  “Behind me! Perfect! So many, two, four, six, eight ! Now how did so many sneak up all at the same time?  I must be loosing my touch.”
    “Does that mean we pass?” Owen asked.
    “Of course!  I was hoping at least one of you would