Chuck had made it only a little way around, flashlight beam on the ground where the thick white line of salt was (so far, no broken spots, though some places were getting a little thin, and he’d made notes on the clipboard he was carrying as to where those spots were and how much he thought he would need to fill those spaces in) when he heard the sound, and he froze, thumbing off the flashlight and taking a step backwards, so that he was standing inside the line of salt - not that that would do a whole lot of good if it was a Croat or something, but if it was a demon he’d be ...kinda safe, at least.
Except as he put his foot down, something underneath it crunched loudly - a broken branch or something, loud snapping that reverberated loudly through the air, and he panicked slightly, jumping and skittering away from it (images in his head of bones, dry bones that he’s standing on and breaking, maybe he’d seen too many horror movies before movies stopped being available, maybe he’d just seen too many images in his head, horrible images from his visions) and causing even more rustling and crackling to happen, and he was panicking now, because whatever that was out there was going to hear him and head right this way and he didn’t know if he was supposed to get his gun out and ready, or make a break for the gate.
...Gun. There was no way he could make it to the gate without making noise, and that was assuming he made it at all without the flashlight being on. He reached for his gun, and the flashlight slipped out of his hands, falling somewhere in the leaves with another muffled rustling sound.