He closed his eyes and listened to the river meandering its way across the landscape. Within minutes, he was dreaming of his family. Later in the night, his pleasant dream turned into a nightmare, and he woke up sweating. In an effort to regain his composure, he emerged from under the tarp, which he had draped over an irrigation pipe. Standing by the tarp as it gently flapped in the breeze, he could still see the glowing embers of the campfire. Suddenly, he saw something move at the campsite. Rubbing his eyes, he blinked, trying to clear them, and stared again toward the camp by the riverbank. Dylan saw something moving around, so he grabbed his bow and the arrows. He nocked an arrow on the string and crouched low as he walked back toward the camp, stopping every few steps to glance behind himself. He stayed low at the edge of the bean field. The bushy plants kept him completely camouflaged. Slow moving clouds obscured the full moon, so he continued to strain his eyes, peering into the darkness to see what was down at the camp.
