The tall man was talking to two uniformed soldiers. One of the men pointed at whatever was on the floor and the tall man seemed to be asking questions. Bob knew enough about body language to see that the two men being questioned were terrified of the taller man. Who the hell is this guy?
Just then, two things happened simultaneously that made Bob feel like his heart might stop beating. First, one of the soldiers moved and he could see it was a body on the ground between them. Second, one of the two scared soldiers handed a backpack to the tall man. Bob recognized it immediately. He turned to look at Meera and the tears running silently down her face told him she recognized it too.
The tall man turned toward the body and the other soldiers made room as he approached. With every minute, the light improved and Bob could now see clearly. More clearly than he wanted to. Seb's shaggy brown hair hung across his face and his body was surrounded by blood-stained earth. Bob had seen enough fatalities to know when someone was gone. He felt a deep quiet anger burning away his fear. What the hell was going on here? Seb was one of the gentlest people he had ever known. None of this made any sense.
The tall man knelt beside Seb's body, putting a couple of fingers on his neck. He said something into his head mic and within seconds the sound of the rotors was back. Bob guessed it must have gained altitude to be out of hearing until needed. Two soldiers went to Seb's head, two to his feet. As they flipped the body over, Seb's face came fully into view and Meera choked back a sob. Bob glanced at her and as he did so, her eyes suddenly widened in disbelief. There was a shout from the clearing. Bob snapped his head back.
Seb opened his eyes. The soldiers around him involuntarily took a step backward in shock. He sat up and looked around him, spitting out a mouthful of dirt. He remembered falling. He remembered shots. He stood and the soldiers backed up a few more steps, their guns pointing at him.
"Don't shoot!" came a voice. Seb turned as a tall man walked toward him, exuding authority. He eyed Seb steadily and motioned at the men. They all lowered their weapons.
"Son, I represent the US Government. You and I need to have a little talk." He nodded toward the helicopter.
"Shall we?"
Seb barely knew what he was thinking. In fact, the thought that he didn't know what he was thinking was the only thought his brain seemed capable of handling. He looked at the tall man. Behind him, Seb saw two vaguely familiar faces. The men who had shot him. He had no idea what was going on, what had happened to him, whether he was really dead or alive. The whole scene might just be a lucid dream as he lay dying, his blood pouring from slit wrists as he sat under a tree in the Verdugo Mountains. But he felt alive and he knew these guys were far from friendly. He made his decision. He ran.
The soldiers began to raise their weapons but it all seemed to happen in slow motion for Seb. He was out of the clearing and crashing through the bushes before the first gun barrel had been raised more than an inch. By the time the tall man had screamed "Follow him!" Seb was out of sight. As the soldiers began their pursuit and the tall man jumped back into the helicopter, Seb was running faster than he had known possible. He felt stronger than he had in years and would have laughed out loud if he hadn't needed all his breath to draw enough oxygen to keep his legs pumping. It seemed - but couldn't possibly be - only a few minutes before he rounded the corner of his block. He wasn't aware of the moment he stopped running, he just found himself walking through the door and heading up to his apartment, vaguely aware he'd just run faster than he'd thought possible. And he wasn't out of breath.
Back at the clearing, all the soldiers gone, Bob and Meera climbed down in silence and stood facing each other. Neither knew what to say. In the end they both spoke