I'm interested to know more guesses on who the masked man is. I won't confirm or deny them, but I will thank you for them and acknowledge the correct ones at the end. Sorry this installment is shorter, but everyone needs a holiday. I've got some longer ones coming soon, and this is Friday's installment.

THESE TWO TRACKERS TRAVELED SO FAR

The masked man panned the horizon slowly in the early dawn, adjusting his eyepiece with switches while Darryl studied the road around a debris pile next to a rotting body in a charred, dirty yellow raincoat and dirtier blonde wig. Darryl shook his head. "Sorry. Only tracks are too fresh."

The masked man nodded. "That means they likely weren't found. Interesting booby trap. House couldn't have toted the oxygen tanks, so he caught a dead woman—" The masked man did a double-take, reaching into the raincoat. "A dead MAN. Dressed it as easily as possible to look like a woman. Used the body as bait somehow. A simple striker to ignite the oxygen flowing out of a suddenly unkinked tube straight to the tanks. He bored holes for this."

"Naw."

The masked man turned his head.

"Looka that."

The masked man startled, following Darryl's pointing finger. "The holes were drilled before the tank blew—to hold the barrels together! That's why it was Styrofoam rather than air in the barrels. Otherwise, the barrels would have leaked when punctured and sunk, not been found in the same spot. Good catch, Darryl!"

Darryl stared at him. "You're not puttin' on that tough voice anymore."

The masked man startled. "I guess I trust you now." He paused. "From the shaped tearing around the holes, the barrels were held together with chains. But there are no chains or rope here. Just the barrels under a pile of smashed, waterlogged plywood—oh."

"Oh?"

"That's how House didn't leave tracks. He laid out everything he could reach in the mud, like a walkway to the road. He and maybe his friends, if they survived, left by the road." The masked man rummaged through the plywood, coming up with some broken boards with no silt on them. "These he added later to come back. Maybe to make the booby trap. All he needed was some more silted plywood scraps to throw on top of them from the road here. This one has blood on it. Probably got a few splinters."

Darryl looked at the broken, unsilted boards. "Deck." He turned away and started walking, screwdriver at the ready. At the edge of town, right on the road, were three houses. One of them had a wrecked deck. Darryl pointed at the wrecked deck. They spent a few minutes walking up to it in silence. There was a Confederate flag wrapped around a tacked-together mess of splintered wood and odd hardware protruding from it. The masked man examined it for a moment. Darryl shook his head. "Homemade sail," said the masked man, "Mounted on mismatched wheels. Some of these spars are gore-covered. He made a . . . sailcart. He may have had a hard time with a small herd. Bicycle's missing." The masked man pointed at the silhouette of a bicycle in half shade on the lower deck boards.

Darryl nodded. "That's the lookout post." He pointed to the upper window. He kicked the door in and stood back. Half a red-haired dead man came crawling out. He had a tattoo of a skull on his neck. His fingers had been cut off. Darryl put it down. "There's 'is guard dog." He pointed in a window to show a baby gate across the stairs to the second story with some empty soda cans piled against it. "Thass 'larm system."

The masked man nodded. "Booby trap victim, probably. Then they prepared it to be unable to reach the upper floors without setting off their homemade alarm." He turned it over. "They used FlexSeal or PlastiDip on the bottom to keep it intact longer and fight the smell, no doubt. Good thinking."

Darryl turned and gave the masked man a look. He went back to studying tracks off the side of the porch. "Real old boot tracks. Lots of back and forth. Bike, too. They got ready to leave, watchin' from here. Loaded up." He stepped down to examine a tire print closely. He squinted, lifted part of a sticker.

The masked man nodded, recognizing the sticker. "They found a biofuel-powered car. All they'd need would be a composting system and a good chemistry set to keep it in fuel."

Darryl gave him another funny look.

"Well, it wouldn't win races, but it would haul. And they're sometimes quieter than other cars. I think we should check that out." The masked man pointed at a department store. Darryl nodded, seeing that one mannequin in the group had no top and was bald. The two men cleared some thirty dead from the department store and reconnoitered. The masked man nodded. "Two canoes, inflatables, camping gear, and portable tools. I can take you back to your bike now. I know where they were going."

"What if they moved on?"

"I know where to find you. Just do your best to stay alive."

They walked back to the vehicle. The masked man drove him for an hour to a row of warehouses in silence. He let Darryl out, handing him a small parcel and a large bottle of water. "I'm really behind. There's one more MRE than promised and a second screwdriver. I've left you an extra mile to walk, since you're stealthier during the day on foot. We ARE coming into range of their patrols. Good luck."

Darryl nodded, "You too." He stood back as the masked man closed his vehicle doors and raced away. Darryl shook his head, widening his eyes for a moment, and turned to walk to where he'd hidden the bike.

FlexSeal and PlastiDip are both reasonable choices for preservation of your crippled, half-zombie 'guard dog,' FlexSeal being more non-skid and PlastiDip being available in colors to match your wallpaper. Darryl has served the masked man well. Remember how he 'analyzed' the shack he and Maggie's sister stopped at? That was the basis of how he interpreted House's lookout point. How does the masked man know where they went? Who is he? Please read and review.