The 22.
Escape; Episode
2
Trying to catch my breath from my run to safety, not really
safety but distance. I watched as
somewhere around 50 makeshift soldiers fanned out splitting up half on each
side of the street. Three or four would kick down a front door and search the
house as the rest would leap frog to the next one. The searches weren’t taking long, only two to
five minutes per house, then they’d hurry to the front of the group and go to the
next house and kick that door down. It
came to mind that they weren’t looking for treasure they were looking for
people.
I looked past the coming swarm and watched breathlessly the
parade up on SW 25th. Vehicles
continued to pass (it was a horror show) I wondered just how many from the city
had joined this army, how many had been forced, were those being dragged ones
that put up a fight or refused to join?
Time to bug out; not far, just far enough that I’d be
concealed in the woods away from my house. I grabbed my rifle and my bug out
bag, threw the shotgun under the couch and locked the back door on my way
out. If they looked around much, they’d see
someone had been living here; no time to hide that.
I took a hard right on the cement patio and walked carefully
in the flower beds now hardened from lack of water leaving no tracks to follow
into the woods. Taking a seat in a thick
area I could just make out the back of the house and down the backs of about
three houses to my left. If needed I
could run straight away keeping the thick bushy area between me and anyone that
came out the back door or around the sides of the houses.
Listening hard I could just make out the faint screams and
engine noises of the parade slowly moving along 25th.
The crack of a gunfire, once, twice and a third nearly gave
me a heart attack I was listening so hard to the parade. That had to be the rifle I’d given the
neighbor; a little carbine firing .223 ammo.
The back door three houses down exploded in flying glass as my neighbor
tried to escape into the woods. He only
made a dozen steps when he was cut down by automatic weapons firing from inside
the house, muted but still rattled my ears; three men stepped out into the
afternoon shadows and riddled the body with bullets at point blank range.
I flattened myself out becoming one with the forest floor as
two men stepped out my back door carefully looking around the small back yard
for tracks leading into the woods.
Bringing a radio up to his lips he was answered by one of the men three
houses down, they both walked far enough out into the yards to be able to see each
other down the rear of the houses. He
made a “0ne” gesture and pointed to my house.
They made a pretty good show of leaving; I wasn’t born
yesterday. They’d sweep the woods as
soon as they had enough man power. My
plan fell into place immediately; I’d slowly circle around the to the other
side of our street leaving the woods for them to search and hole up along SW 25th
back towards town. If they started to
search those thickets, I could try to cross 25th and hideout in the
neighborhoods they’d already searched.
The sound of engines stopped; the search was on.
I had just made it to the far side of our street moving
slowing in the woods a good 150 yards out from the houses when the search
began; From the sounds of it someone had watched a few to many African movies
where they drove lions to the waiting guns.
Yelling back and forth separated by fifty to sixty yards between each
driver, they were walking fast covering a lot of ground quickly. If I hadn’t moved, they would have already
found me. This part of SW 25th street
was on fill dirt and sat about three feet higher than the woods and brush along
the street. I low crawled into a thicket
just a few feet from the stopped parade.
I slid up under a bush with branches that nearly touched the ground all
around me. The noise from the captives
covered any chance of anyone hearing my approach and crawling into what I hoped
was a safe place.
Thirty minutes and engines began starting up; my luck was
holding. The trucks above me started and
I could hear yelling over the engine noise, they were getting ready to move on.
Any thought of returning to my house for
additional gear was gone; the likely hood of them leaving someone to watch or
some kind of electronic gear to alert them of my return was just too high to
risk, I’d have to make due with what I had in my bug out bag.
The end of the parade was about twenty-five or so more
trucks and pickup trucks that idled past, a few soldiers walked slowly along
behind the last pickup keeping an eye for any escapees.
I need a plan.
Thinking of the future…
This was June; by the end of September, it would start cooling down and race
head long into winter. Without a house
and wood heat I’d be at the mercy of the weather; but smoke would bring trouble;
Colorado is not a friendly place to be in the winter. Food for the next few months shouldn’t be a
problem, canned food should stay good for nearly a year and bottled water and
freeze-dried foods maybe longer, twinkies forever, or so the story goes. It only makes sense to me to head South
towards Colorado Springs and if I can into New Mexico and warmer weather year
around giving metro and large towns a wide margin for safety; the thoughts just
give me a head ache, baby steps, just baby steps, nice slow ones or risk
getting caught or very much dead.
In the short term it was time to move; I’d need shelter for
the night some place that had already been searched. I’ll stay on this side of SW 25th
and in the wooded zone. I knew the
forested areas would take me a few miles South away from town before I’d have
to make a hard turn up into the hills to stay in forest land and cover.
I’d made about five miles staying inside of the tree lines
moving slowly keeping an eye out for any movement. It was getting later in the afternoon and I’d
have to come out of the trees and move into the outer parts of the rural area
to find a house or some kind of building for the night.
“I’d be careful going any further down that trail.” A voice
said in my right ear. I jumped like I
was shot and froze. “It’s not safe;
booby trapped.” I slowly turned my head
and not four feet over my right shoulder stood a man; a man skinny as a rail
and had to be six foot seven. Thin-man
is what my first thought was. He wasn’t
in camo just light-colored clothing but I’d bet if I took my eyes off of him
for a second, he’d disappear. He had a
peculiar tattoo on his left cheek running from his hairline all the way down
below his chin. It was jet black but
some how blended into his deep dark tan.
“I, I didn’t see you standing there.” I mostly croaked on a dry throat.
“Lots of people don’t see me.” He said in a dry raspy voice.
“Dusty, rusty dry voice” my little voice in my head said.
I decided to go a head and look away, expecting him to
vanish in a split second. “I don’t see a
trip wire?”
“Two feet in front of you crossing the path; six inches off
the ground.” The voice whispered.
“I don’t see it.” I wasn’t exactly surprised since I’d just
walked past a skinny old man and didn’t see him either.
“Oh… you can’t see the wire, look for what’s not suppose to
be there. What’s out of place.”
“OH shit. I see a
spider web, a web dancing in the light breeze, but not blowing away.” I said in amazement.
“Now you are seeing…”
He said from my left shoulder.
Close, under four feet to my left; I hadn’t heard him move at all.
“You saved my life; why?”
I whispered matching his silenced voice staring at the invisible trip
wire.
“Well, if you’d a tripped it, we’d both be having dinner
with Jesus’ tonight; we’re that close to the bomb.” “There’s a fairly big camp a spell up this trail
and they have traps all over these woods now.”
“The group collecting people I saw earlier today?” In a whisper.
“No not those ones, these ones worse by far.” Again, in his deep dry rusty voice. “You follow me up this little trail to our
right, bout two miles, I have a little cabin up against the mountain side, we
can talk there overnight.” “I’ll see you
there.”
I turned to thank him again for saving my life, but he was gone. Looking up a very small trail to the right I
saw a slight blur moving through the woods but not a figure of a man; he’d
disappeared not making a sound.
That little voice you have in your head that kind of
occasionally speaks up and tells you you’re about to die was screaming; but
what choice do I really have I said over the screams. Die in these woods in a few minutes or die in
the Thin-mans cabin later tonight?
Besides I should be dead right now, why would he save me and then kill
me later… Dinner screamed my little
voice.
My watch said 7pm, I had maybe a half hour before it was
dark; I was moving as fast I could, the trail was hard to follow in the fading
light. The mountain was just a hundred
yards straight a head and I couldn’t see anything that looked like a
cabin. The trail had been fairly flat
most of the two miles or so I’d walked since he disappeared but the last couple
hundred yards it’s taken a steeper and steeper incline. I stopped, the trail had vanished and I had
no idea which way to go, looking nearly straight up huge rocks, nearly a
cliff.
Slightly to my right not more than sixty feet a figure
stepped out from the rock face holding a dull lantern, waved it once and was
gone. I headed in that direction; a
narrow gap in the rocks showed a yellow light, falling almost like a stain on
the rocks. Stepping in between the rocks
there was a narrow old grey weathered door standing wide open.
I stepped through the door and found a fully finished wood
cabin. Twenty feet or so deep and at least ten feet to the wood ceiling, had to
be twelve feet wide. I’d done a little
wood work before and the joints holding the heavy beams had not one nail, held
together by the joints only, master class work.
It was gorgeous and well outfitted.
Hansel and Gretel couldn’t have found a nicer cabin in the woods.
“Go ahead, make yourself comfortable.” His voice directly behind me… he’d done it
again. I was starting to get really
tired of it, I didn’t even bother to turn and look, just took a few steps
inside.
I could smell stew coming from an old wood burning cast iron
stove against the left back wall; “Now that smells good” I said as he pulled
the grey door closed with a scraping of light gravel.
“Take a seat, I’ll grab us both a bowl, I think the bread is
still mold free.” He moved past me close
and I could smell a faint breath of what I’d say had to be Old Spice just like
my grandpa wore. Hansel and Gretel again
came to mind.
“I sure appreciate you keeping me from blowing us both up
and now feeding me dinner; I’m not sure I have anyway of repaying you.” I said moving to the kitchen table set center
just out side of the prep area but leaving a great room behind it.
The chair groaned under my weight but held. “This is a great
cabin; not exactly what I was expecting.”
Placing a good-sized bowl in front of me and a matching one
on his side of the table he pulled his chair out and sat down. He ripped a big chunk of bread off a loaf and
slid it across the table to me; non sliced bread, when was the last time I saw
bread that wasn’t sliced?
“It’s been in the family for generations; we own a small
parcel of land along the face of the mountain.
Not many folks venture up this way.
Nothing to see.” He said around a
spoon full of stew. “You want something
to drink? I’ve got some blackberry wine
I like to drink.” Getting up he poured
me a big glass made from a mason jar.
“OH, this just keeps getting better; I’ll never be able to
pay you back, thank you so much!” I was
really starting to believe in fairy tales.
“Well, if you going to make New Mexico by winter you’re
going to have to hit the trail hard.” He
said and actually winked.
“Are you my guardian angel?
I’d be dead and spread over an acre of brush right now if it wasn’t for
you.” I felt like a little kid thanking
an adult for saving my puppy…
“No. Nothing like that; you seem to be a smart guy and other
than that big rifle looked to me to be a decent human caught in a bad time. If I, was you, I’d be heading for nicer
weather and away from the big cities. It’s
a long way to New Mexico and warmer weather this coming winter, I’d be heading
that way my self if I was on the run.” A
small smile crossed his face. “I have to
say I’d bet against you making it, the worlds gone crazy and the craziest are
running things now.”
“How have they not found you? If I started a fire, they’d be on me in an
hour. That wood stove would give you away
in a day.” I said sounding pretty suspicious.
“The chimney goes into a large crack in the rocks, takes it
half way up the mountain before it comes out.
I was a little worried when everything went bad, so far so good. I only start it up now to cook.” He picked up our dishes and placed the them
in the sink. “You ready for a refill? I am.” Pouring my glass full before I could
say anything. I walked along the walls
looking at pictures in frames from another era.
I wondered when they first started taking photos; 1870’s? These showed frowning people before they made
you smile for pictures.
We talked for a few hours, him explaining that the cabin was
built in this cave back in the teens by his great grandfather. The family used if for short vacations over
the years so he knew every inch of the woods.
He’d moved in full time a couple decades ago after his folks had
passed. Now it was his hide out and he
intended to sit it out right here.
I finally got up enough nerve to ask about the tattoo running
from hairline to under his chin.
“I got a big scar during the war and my mother had me get it
tattooed to cover it up. She was worried
any gals would shy away from that scar.”
He said shaking his head slightly.
“You were in Vietnam?”
I asked.
“That was one of them.”
It was clear I’d asked enough on the subject.
“One of them” Begged for more questions, but I held off out
of respect.
I went over my plans in as much detail as I’d come up with
so far. He drew me a map of the area
covering about ten miles to the South showing where the camps were and how far
he’d found traps.
“Here let me show you something.” He got up and walked to the back wall. He slid a cabinet to the side exposing a black
hole in the cabin wall. That goes into the
cave and winds around for a while and comes out a few hundred feet down the
mountain wall; gives me an escape route just in case they find my hide
out. Now it was my time to smile and
give a wink.
My first day on the run had come to an end and I was asleep
on my feet. I placed my roll out pad on
the wood planked couch and fell asleep in an instant. Morning would be here in just a few hours
and I’d need to head South early before the camps woke up for the day and
started checking traps.
Breakfast was fast and filling. We shook hands and I thanked him again for
everything. He gave my shoulder a squeeze
and I was on my way. From Thin-man to
grandpa; that was quite a first day on the run.
Out the old grey door and turning right I kept tight against
the mountain walls. His map showed the
camps and where they’d placed traps he’d found so far, on nearly every trail
from the lower highways all the way to the steep mountain slopes. I’d have to find the trip wires and land mines
on my own, I hoped I was up to the task.
Wish me luck.
From the Ramblings
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