Probability Gardens

Three figures approached on bicycles in shaky, unnatural cycling style, swerving as if drunk. The three individuals were in all black, long coats, and wearing face coverings and as Piotr spotted them, they seemed to slow their movement.
“I’ve never seen them.”
Piotr looked to Aiko.
“Give me your gun now.”
Aiko looked uncharacteristically worried and without giving it much thought she handed her pistol to Piotr.
Ben was a few yards behind them as he began to trot, catching up.
“Who are they?”
Piotr looked shaken. He fired off a warning shot into the air and sound cracked throughout the canyon the curvy 2 lane road. The sun had just set, and the silence that followed the gunshot was heavy.
“I see you guys, we see you. You’re not going to get anything from us!”
Piotr’s voice shaky as he projected. Fear echoed between the barren hills.
The three figures seemed to scatter off, riding their bikes into the brush.
“What are they doing?” Aiko looked over to Ben.
“Don’t know, but I don’t think they’re people.”
Piotr didn’t correct Ben. Aiko noticed this.
“Don’t waste anymore bullets with warning shots.” She said.
“In fact, give me my gun Piotr” Aiko reached her hand out.
Ben turned his attention back to Piotr.
“Give her her gun.”
Piotr handed it over.
The three stood there unsure.
Highway 152 curved through California coastal foothills leading from Gilroy California (The Garlic capital of the world), to Los Banos, which translates to “the baths” in Spanish. The wooded areas of the hills are sparse and dry the further you get towards Los Banos, towards the Central Valley of California.
The early Ontek proposals for the perimeter of the “pocket dimension” or “probability garden” had the boundary at San Luis Reservoir, just north of Los Banos.
“We’re getting closer.” Aiko whispered. Piotr was quiet. His chattering and know-it-all bravado subsided as they inched closer to the Obsidian Wall each hour.
“You think they’re gone?” Ben whispered.
An hour had passed and the three decided to continue cautiously. Casa De Fruta, a large RV park with restaurant and fruit stands appeared in the distance as the trio rounded a bend. Piotr’s spirit came back to life and he began to reminisce with the others about the beloved landmark.
The three cautiously headed to the RV park, speaking still in hushed tones, but with a level of happiness now and excitement.
Wind rustled the leaves in the batches of trees that lined the road now. And before arriving at the Casa De Fruta, another gunshot was heard cracking through the hills, followed shortly after by 2 more.
“That sounded like a sniper rifle” Ben said. The three looked at each other.
“We can’t stay there, we’ll be sitting ducks for whoever.”
The large Casa De Fruta sign exuded refuge, comfort and familiarity.
“What?” Aiko looked devastated.
“Tonight we sleep in the trees.” Piotr’s dead face turned back towards the pavement of highway 152.
“Literally in the trees?” Ben asked.
“Well not literally, that would be dangerous. I’m thinking more like, under them, against the trees.”
Aiko stood staring at the Casa De Fruta as Ben and Piotr continued their conversation. She reluctantly continued her steps on the road, catching up with the others.
“We need to get off this main road” Ben said.
The three disappeared into the brush.