They had heard the voices long before they saw them.
For a while now, Carl had made frequent stops, tilting his head from side to side, crouching down to run his fingers through the impressions of boots in the soil, then continued on.
No language was needed to read his antics as a warning that they were about to rendezvous with Morris, Mears and the rest of the gang.
What little Steve had been able to hear sounded like tense conversation, orders being barked, urgency permeating every word.
The commotion had caused both of them to seek shelter behind a tree trunk, waiting on for a moment, trying to formulate a plan that would include two unarmed men overtaking a group of well-armed homicidal maniacs holding Mike hostage.
The odds weren't in their favor by any stretch of the imagination, but there was hope at least.
Steve glanced over at Carl, meeting the stoic brown eyes that held so many secrets he thirsted to explore- if they weren't in their current predicament.
With a barely visible cock of the head, the hermit pointed at a handful of rocks nearby, remnants from the ice age era, then formed a tight fist, before pointing it at the group ahead of them.
"Rocks?", Steve mouthed quietly, only to receive an approving nod.
Then, with the gentleness and agility of a cat, Carl moved from his position and over to the rocks, where he grabbed four of them, all of them small enough to fit into the palm of a hand. Two of them he stuffed into his pocket, the other two he handed over to Steve.
Frowning, the young Inspector accepted them, his sluggish mind struggling with the meaning of the tokens for many long moments, before his eyes widened.
"Throw?"
With an affirmative nod, Carl reached down to retrieve two more, then began to inch away from the protection of his tree trunk, remaining crouched over as if it would help blend in against the flora and fauna of the park.
Taking another deep breath, Steve hoped his aim would be on target when it mattered the most.