The closest station was a half an hour drive away on the Gila River. Willis stopped at the gate. They got out and walked through the split in the fencing a little ways down. The plan was to wait for one a.m. Clint would turn it off then. After a few minutes Willis would use the flares they brought with them. If they shoot green it worked, and red if it did not. They only had two of each color. So two tries before they had to go back. Clint was sure he would get it right the first time.
“What time is it?” Devin asked, sitting on the little wall separating the walkways.
Willis looked at his watch, “12:49. Not too long,” he looked over at the other two, “where are your backpacks?”
“Mine’s in the car,” Landon said.
Devin shrugged, “I left mine at the facility.”
“The point of having those is to keep them on you,” Willis sighed looking into the water with his flashlight.
“I did grab my flashlight,” Devin defended himself, and Landon pulled one from his back pocket.