The last van disappeared into the darkness before Ezekiel finally lowered his binoculars. The taillights faded, swallowed by the dense forest, leaving nothing but the pale glow of the compound's security lights. He waited another full minute, his breath misting in the cold night air, his eyes straining to catch any sign of movement. The silence was absolute, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.
No headlights. No voices. No movement. Just the hollow silence of an abandoned prison.
"They're gone," one of the officers whispered, his voice barely audible above the rustling leaves.
Ezekiel nodded slowly, his jaw tight. The weight of failure settled on his shoulders, heavy and suffocating.
"They're gone."
