My uninvited visitors came back very early the next morning, sniffing around the barn again and more boldly starting to poke around the house. They appear to have used more-or-less the same route as last time. My dog was practically in hysterics. I watched them via security cameras and kept notes of what seemed to get their attention and what they ignored. They moved cautiously and quietly, disturbed nothing, and leaving nothing behind but footprints. Doorways and windows seemed to interest them a great deal. My nearby car was ignored entirely. They appear to be unaware of my electronic security. It had been raining lightly a bit earlier and that left everything wet enough to leave good footprints. I counted myself as lucky-- this will make tracking them a bit easier. They left in about an hour and their actions were an indication that a larger plan was already in motion and my house was the target.
Once is happenstance. Twice is enemy action. That's enough to convince me to do something-- even if I had to (somewhat grudgingly) do it alone.
An hour after the Orcs left, I had my old hunting gear and weapons assembled: Dated-but-serviceable camouflage clothes, backpack loaded with goodies, decent boots, gloves, sidearm and rifle plus camo wrap. But I'm not so “old-school” that I'd miss out on modern upgrades, you know. The pistol is a full-size 9mm Sig Sauer P320 service pistol with tritium night sights and loaded with high-quality hollow points (basically law enforcement ammo in polite consumer packaging). The rifle is an AR-15 chambered for 6.5mm Grendel and equipped with modern optics (variable power, good clear glass and a proper ballistic drop compensation reticle). The cherry on top is a decent muzzle brake that doubles as a suppressor mount. Combined with the correct ammunition (heavy-for-caliber, bonded-core, controlled expansion bullets driven at moderate velocities), you have a rifle that's perhaps slightly heavy but comfortable enough to carry all day and provides an easy, low-recoil shooting experience for the hunter. My choice of ammunition has been working quite well on deer and hogs for several years, knocking them down like clockwork, and there's every reason to expect equally reliable performance on Orcs, should the need arise.
This really wasn't functionally different from any other hunting trip, except that this prey was quite capable of killing me. I darkly speculated that they were very likely not good to eat—not that I have ever heard anyone trying. Orcs are reported to be primitive, prefer ambushes and traps, and avoid “stand-up” fights unless they have an overwhelming numeric advantage. They remind me of packs of dogs or wolves? I had a good idea where to start tracking and I decided to set a hard deadline to return home before sunset. I would also try to avoid making contact if possible. Strictly recon. At the edge of the forest, I found their new entry point quickly.
Stop. Look. Listen. Smell. Document.
The forest in this area is thick but looked to have several openings that could be useful to something as small as an Orc. I could see some flattened grass that looked promising. Moving to the sign, I checked to see if there was any other evidence, perhaps like any attempt to lay down false tracks or something they might have dropped. Pictures. Notes. A few more pictures. Stepping through the opening in the bushes into the deeper forest, I repeated this cycle, looking at disturbed leaves or crushed plants or mud transferred to surfaces where it shouldn't be present. Always moving slowly. Always looking for traps and snares. Always looking for false tracks and loop-back ambushes. It was slow going. But I was alone, and I needed to be extra careful.
After a few hours, I began to see a pattern emerging from the various points I mapped during the track. While it was clear the Orcs are quite comfortable in the forest, it was also the reason they were easy to track. They were moving in more-or-less straight lines and following terrain (being lazy and using low ground rather than walking up and over hills, for example), Plus, they made no apparent effort to conceal their movements or deceive a potential tracker. With this lesson was a reminder to myself not to get sloppy, either-- I could still be ambushed or hit a trap at any point. It also occurred to me that I had also not been concealing my activities like I should. After a brief, self-administered mental ass-kicking, I decided it was still best to continue forward. Following the rule about making sure you take out everything you bring in would help me if they get the idea to start checking for trackers like me. Everything gets transported out and discarded once I get back home.
Never step on something you can step over. Never break anything you can bend. Never bend anything you can avoid altogether. Never move anything unless it is absolutely necessary to do so. Never walk on soft surfaces when hard surfaces are available. Move patiently. Move quietly. Move towards your quarry.
As time passed and data points accumulated, I started to develop a more solid hypothesis about where they might be going. My map indicated an area of low “stair step” cliffs not far away. Finding caves in such places is not unusual and seemed a likely target area. Water was also nearby, in the form of a modest stream within a few hundred yards. I had fished portions of this stream over the years and knew it ran year-round. Continuing the track, the more points I mapped, the more likely my “cliff” theory appeared to be true. From past hunting trips I had tracked deer through the other end of these same cliffs a few miles away and deer trails through this area are rather common.
I had been keeping an eye on cell phone coverage and while bandwidth and signal strength was not good, I was still able to upload images and notes for later analysis. I decided to back off, break away from the track and find a secluded spot to enjoy some water and a protein bar while I put my phone on the auxiliary battery I brought. Good time to review my collected notes. It was always nice to sit and take a break but had to limit myself to no more than ten minutes or risk feeling real pain in my legs later. A check of my watch gave me perhaps another hour before I had to call it quits for today. I decided to use a different route home-- there are a few logging roads close by that can help me reach my own property quickly. Walking on a harder surface (packed earth and sand) would also help hide my movements a bit.
I eventually lost the track entirely, but I could see the cliffs a perhaps hundred yards away. A deer trail led the way and had clearly been used by something more than deer. I was acutely aware that I was probably approaching a security boundary; meaning that I was increasingly likely to encounter traps, be under observation, or both. I sat down near a fallen tree, using its truck and dead leaves as concealment. Bringing up my rifle I decided to take some time to give the whole area a long, hard look and see if anything stood out. Starting with areas left, right and behind me, I thought it best to make sure I wasn't about to get flanked or ambushed. Stop. Look. Listen. Smell.
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The scent in this part of the forest was a bit “off”. It reminded me of a combination of wet dog and sewage, although it was very faint. I recall hearing something about that on TV once-- Orcs smell terrible. The forest was otherwise still and quiet, as expected. Returning to the cliffs and the trails, I started a slow, careful sweep. I found an area of deep shade under a few trees, under which I caught a glimpse of dirty, red cloth and the edge of cut a branch. From my position so far away, it was hard to see more. Moving closer was probably not a good idea. The observations continued.
Being an old guy, it's not easy sitting cross-legged. It's also not easy to control my breathing and remaining quiet. Once you stop moving, suddenly everything itches, and it feels like you're constantly chasing some small discomfort or another that’s demanding attention. It's damned annoying, honestly. I distinctly remember not having these problems when I was younger. Luckily, patience and willpower always pay off eventually-- even if you'll end up needing big doses of anti-inflammatory drugs and muscle relaxers the next day.
I had just gotten back on my rifle scope after a short “eye strain” break when I noticed a small movement near the area of deep shade-- it was an Orc carrying a crude spear, lazily looking out into the forest. I'd seen that same look on every soldier doing sentry duty. It's mind-numbing trying to cope with hours of boredom when there's no chance anything interesting was going to happen. I could very nearly see him from head-to-toe as he ventured a few yards away from what I assumed was an entrance. I watched closely to see if he had any backup, but he appeared to be alone. It was clear that I wasn't going to get a chance to determine much about the number or disposition of enemy forces present. Sometimes it goes that way. I ranged him with my reticle-- a laser rangefinder would been more accurate, but I don't own one of those, yet. I was fairly close, and my best guess appeared to be about 20 minutes-of-angle for an average Orc height of roughly 45 inches, yielding a range of about 210-ish yards to target. It's a lot closer than I would prefer, but it also meant that only minor ballistic corrections would be needed if I had to start shooting (basically, 2 minute-of-angle hold-overs—easily done with my scope’s BDC reticle). Leads for moving targets would also be small at such a short range.
No contact. Just recon. That's the mission. I managed to get a picture of this Orc sentry to add to my list of waypoints. This final photo should be everything I needed to plot a very accurate location for a potential liar, although there might be other unknown entrances and exits in the area. Waiting for the Orc to wander back out of sight, I kept thinking how easy it would be to just shoot him. I had to again remind myself that I wasn't here to create that kind of fuss, but I was truly tempted. A more sobering thought was the realization that if I started any kind of fight here, I was guaranteed to be badly outnumbered.
Twenty minutes later I was on my way home after making a quiet withdrawal away from the warren site and towards the not-too-distant logging road. Once on the road, I picked up my pace to put as much distance between myself and Orcs as I could without pushing myself to exhaustion. Just a brisk hike through the woods, right? I would stop just off the road every ten minutes or so for a short breather and to check and see if I was being followed. I made it home in under two hours with no sign of pursuit. But I wasn't foolish enough to assume this was the end of it. I fully expected that once they re-emerged from their warren, they'd eventually run across my observation point and figure out they'd been discovered. It was possible I might get lucky, but it’s unwise to count on such things.
Upon arriving home, I decided to break out the suppressor and a “clip-on” thermal imaging unit that clamps to the end of my rifle's regular day scope. I bought them years ago for nighttime hog hunting and while they aren't “top-of-the-line”, they work well enough. I opted not to change clothes or take a shower, skipping dinner as the sun finally set. Sitting down in front of my computer, I downloaded all the images and notes I took and plotted them out on a larger, more detailed topographic map. I grabbed the Deputy's business card and called the station, obtaining a general email address with which I uploaded a few pics, a snapshot of the topo map plot and the picture of the Orc with coordinates attached. I referenced the case number I was given for the report I filed in the hopes it would get someone's attention.
Orcs aren't exactly well-liked, especially after a surprise invasion that resulted in millions of civilian casualties world-wide. After their defeat, Orcs were declared a “nuisance species” which put them outside normal hunting and use-of-force laws. They could now legally be killed upon discovery pretty much anywhere, anytime (day or night) by pretty much any weapon one might care to use. No bag limits. No closed seasons. Just try not to disturb the neighbors, thank you. There were videos about Orcs hunts conducted from helicopters by people using machine guns. It looked like great fun but struck me as mostly a really expensive way for tourists to burn through obscene amounts of ammunition. As I have some self-respect, and nothing even vaguely approaching an unlimited budget for ammo, I decided to stick with the more traditional, “one shot, one kill” method. So, I thought out a quick plan that seemed reasonable enough.
The topo map suggested only a few easy-to-use routes between the warren site and my property, all of which led to the same general area as my driveway. I had an old hunting blind on the opposite end of my property, last used a few year ago to snipe the deer that had been using said driveway as an easy path to neighboring farming properties and was the source of several excellent venison dinners and barbecues. This position puts everything on my property within two hundred yards of the split in my driveway, leaving only the main driveway beyond (adding another couple hundred yards). From a marksmanship standpoint, this makes for relatively easy shots, unless the target was sprinting or running erratically. Place the horizontal line of the scope's reticle across their shoulders and the vertical line along their body's center line and you're good to go. Head shots are typically not the first thing to try for, despite what you see in the movies-- basic, center-of-mass shot placement works just fine, thanks. Do your part and the shots should land in somewhere between the base of their necks and the center of their thoracic cavities (basically, a four-inch circle). Wounds in this area are truly devastating and the odds of surviving such an injury are not promising. If your shots print just a bit low, it won't matter much in practical terms. Orcs are tough little bastards with high pain tolerance, true, but they're just as easy to kill as anything else (from all reports).
The house can stay locked up and my big goofy dog will stay safely secured in the basement, should the Orcs manage to get in. I can reach my home security system via wireless from the blind and I decided to wear an earpiece so I can hear any alerts in case of a breach (plus call the cops). The screen is too bright for nighttime use and I'll need to observe correct sound, scent, and light discipline in order to keep the element of surprise. The suppressor will help prevent me from blowing out my hearing (such as it is) and after the shooting starts, I can toss the discipline rules away. Weather tonight? Clear, calm, and cold, but should stay above freezing. Starlight and maybe partial moonlight. After thirty minutes of adjustment, I should be able to see something as large as an Orc moving across the short grass of my property without much trouble. If I use the scope, my night vision in one eye will be blown, but should recover an about ten or fifteen minutes. Now all I need is a hot meal and more coffee while I wait until after midnight to get into position.
I recall another old saying: “No plan survives first contact with the enemy.” Guess what? My plan didn't, either.