Taking Shifts With Mark
Armed with flashlights and walkie-talkies, Mark and I braced ourselves for the night ahead. “Stay sharp, buddy,” I said, giving him a friendly pat on the back. He smirked and replied, “Think you can keep up? Just make sure I get first dibs on the coffee.” With that settled, we agreed to take shifts, our eyes scanning for anything out of place. The whole setup felt less like routine work and more like gearing up for a camping trip—except this time, we were hunting for clues, not campfires.
Taking Shifts With Mark
Quiet Patrols Begin
The neighborhood felt unsettling at night, shadows stretching long across the lawns. We walked in silence, Mark leaning in to whisper, “See anything?” Our eyes combed through the darkness, catching flickers of movement and noting anything that seemed out of place. It was oddly disconcerting to scrutinize streets I passed every day, now cloaked in an unfamiliar tension. Still, we pressed on, alert to anything that didn’t belong. Every rustle of leaves, every whisper of wind set us on edge, our hearts pounding with a mix of hope and adrenaline.
Quiet Patrols Begin
