The glow sticks were fading to nothing. Embers smoldered but gave off little in terms of light or heat. Overhead a roll of clouds robbed the night of its gay decorations.
Situated as best he could between two boulders on the least offensive of the gravel, Barker mused, “Ain’t exactly like a Boy Scout campout, is it?”
“Did your scout troop carry M4’s and enough C4 to level a CostCo?”
“No, they did not, Richards. One kid threw a few foggers in the bonfire. That was about it for explosives.”
“Shoot,” Richards replied with a low whistel, “That’s weak even for a bunch of pimply scouts.”
Barker sulked a little, “Whatever. Why don’t you shut up and get some sleep.”
After a pause, his fellow replied, “I don’t sleep, nor do I dream. I succumb to the darkness and suffer through until the dawn.”
As their lights finished fading darkness came indeed, in earnest. This was welcome, as even though you can’t see in the dark, neither can you be seen. It was as comfortable a time as any in the killing fields.