Mick and his men had followed their route to the end. Ever since the death of Marcus and his crew, he had been extra careful in how he performed his daily routes to the tributaries that kept their federation functional .
He knew they were being tracked, being followed, and being watched. He just couldn't see them. He often saw himself looking over his shoulder when things were too still, or when there was too much momentum.
He wasn't the only one, several of the captains had evolved a similar sense of paranoia. This never ending feeling that someone was always near, watching, waiting and preparing to strike.
But they couldn't allow themselves to project a fear of the dark, such a thing would be their undoing. Because of this Mick revved the engine of his snowmobile as he and his men headed back to next tributary on their list for daily plunder.
