I signaled the men to fan out, surrounding the small fire-lit camp, waited for them to get into covering positions and, tired of living the lonely life of a Ranger, simply stood up.

"You're surrounded," I announced loudly. "Anyone touches a gun, they die and everyone else here dies. Best you just get your arms up and live another day."

Everyone in the camp just stared at me in shock, heads quickly turning when the rest of my men stood up with weapons pointing inward, a lethal bristlecone of weapons ready to bring death into the starry night. One poacher reached for his gun then jerked back when the report of a rifle cracked the silence of the dark, a blast of sand bursting into incandescence in front of his fingers.

"I think that's about enough of that, don't you?" I asked rhetorically. "Now, just get up nice and slow, hands out where we can see 'em and stand still. No harm will come to you. The worst that can happen is a little jail time and you'll be out in a month or two. Your families need you a lot more than the funeral pyre."

They all stood and put their arms out to the side, my men moving in to quickly secure them with tie straps, When the smuggler crew was no longer a problem, we went through their trash. No goods, just money and maps, a few bits of paper that might or might not lead to bigger fish. Just another day's haul, nothing to brag about. Boring. Like so many other busts I'd led.

"When it's light, we'll walk 'em all out. No sense in getting hurt trying to find our way in the dark. Might as well sit until dawn. Keep their mouths shut." A grin came on a few faces, tape coming out in my men's characteristic signature. My team wasn't known for taking prisoners if even a single shot was fired and a few smugglers got a little excited but settled down when they got the business end of a rifle resting between their eyes. Seems to always get their attention for some reason.

The march to the lifts was short, prisoners wisely staying calm and it was off to the local police station for them. With no contraband they would only be accused of being in a restricted zone with guns. We'd see half of them again, hopefully the other half getting a little common sense and see it wasn't worth their while to be out in my country at night.

But then, I didn't care very much anymore whether they were out there or not. It was time for me to find something else to do with my life. Too many years, too many repeat offenders, too many ruined lives behind me. And too many lonely nights, far too many of those. Time to head home, at least the home I used to have. Funny how we always think of home even though we haven't been there in twenty years. The wilds had been my home for so long I wondered if I could fit in again. But a few years of savings, a modest retirement and simple needs could go a long ways in adjusting to a different life.

Two weeks later and I was back where I started, looking around and trying to figure out where everything was in what was once my home town. Nothing made any sense, buildings once a childhood memory were just that; only a memory; restaurants I liked as a student were gone, replaced with ritzy, ticky-tacky storefront facades offering the latest trends in preserved, rehydrated pap that offered little but a name. No real flavor, nothing real left in them at all, not like the bush where everything was very real. Instead, everywhere I looked nothing was like I remembered it.

And the city had grown up, what with the local mining franchises bringing in hundreds of nouveau riche that had as much class as a village idiot that had found gold, building their nouveau riche houses among all the other glintzy houses. Fill of glitter and glamour they were, just lacking in the basic attributes of quality, any quality whatsoever.

All the people I knew and had grown up with were gone. Only found one person I knew and she was married and divorced, far too many kilos of that pap from downtown having gone to her waist. Everything was one disappointment after another. There was nothing there for me but old memories gone thin in twenty years of absence. It was depressing to say the least......(cont)