Waves of heat shimmered across the plain and against the green of the juniper trees that stood in the middle distance before the ground sloped away to the lower country beyond. Thirty miles south of Bly, not far from the California border, Charlie Barley and Vance Allen sat in a homemade blind, dug into the ground and camouflaged with juniper branches and burlap. Glasses up, they kept watch on the expanse before them. Neither spoke.
