The 22
Hide and Seek
Episode 3
The Covid 19 pandemic turned out to be nothing to really worry about for most people, unless you had underlying conditions then it was bad… very bad. Then came the mutations, hundreds of mutations, that’s when people started to die.
The Covid shit hit the fan on January 1st 2022, Covid 22; I think we were all just waiting for the axe to fall; Covid 22 was a slate cleaner; get the 22 and your dead, no need to worry or take a bunch of expensive drugs, you’re just dead. 7 to 14 days, just enough time to kiss your ass good bye and hopefully make amends with your maker.
I’ve been sitting it out in my house just outside of Denver, CO. Until the gangs came.
I’m on day 2 having escaped a dragnet of gangs searching through the neighborhoods for people, not treasure just people, enslaving some, killing others. I only had time to grab my bug-out bag and run like hell. I missed being dead twice in one day; first missing getting snared in the search and then booby traps; nothing but pure luck and a phantom, ghost, or was it the thin-man that saved me the second time?
Not the thin-man, his name was Roger. I gaged on laughter when he told me his name late last night holed up in his secret cabin in the rock face of the mountain. I don’t think he ever got why I thought his name was so funny; he got a funny look on his face and looked at my wine glass. I totally lost it then. Roger is at least six foot seven and skinny as a rail; when I first saw him, I thought “Thin-man”. He just kind of laughed with me until I was finally finished; maybe it’s stress, maybe I’m just warped, but he saved my life for sure.
An old childhood rhyme sticks in my head this second morning “Step on a crack, break your mother’s back” it should be “Trip that cord, the blast will be your last.” It’s kind of a sick, I only missed the trip wire by two feet and never did actually see it, just a spider web stuck to it and blowing lightly in the breeze was the only clue. Roger spent half the night going over the kinds of traps he’s seen though out the woods I’m sneaking through today; it’s going to be a long day.
With a full stomach from Roger’s breakfast made in his hideout cabin, I continued South along the mountain moving slowly, I was looking for anything out of sync within or crossing the trail I was following. Roger had told me a short distance down the trail I’d see a trip wire that kind of stood out and could easily step over, but six feet further there was one that I wouldn’t see unless I was very careful; whoever was setting these mines knew exactly what they were doing. I thought about just bushwhacking away from established trails but the noise I’d make would announce me way before I could see anyone hiding, it was a risk I just couldn’t take.
I’d made about a mile or so and decided I’d better take a break, my eyes were straining to see things that just weren’t there and if they were, and I missed it, well you know. I moved about twenty feet off the trail and sat with my back against a tree. Ferns grew up in every direction standing a good three feet high around me, I was pretty well hidden. Crunching on a granola bar and getting some water down I couldn’t have heard an elephant stomping down the trail. I certainly didn’t hear three camo men until they had already passed me heading North on the trail. My eyes now wide open I was amazed they didn’t hear the granola bar wrapper or my crunching of the bar. The lead man would move maybe twenty feet, stop bring field glasses up to his eyes and scan the forest in front of them, then slowly move forward again just to stop in twenty feet repeating the scanning. Number three was covering the forest behind them with a belt fed gun, I think it was a SAR. If I’d moved an inch I’d been seen. They were looking for someone, I hoped it wasn’t me.
I watched them move down the trail, this was not they’re first rodeo. The movement was slow, steady and they moved at the exact same time without looking anywhere but into the trees. How I managed to sit down at just the right time I have no idea; these guys are professionals. What am I walking into?
Thirty minutes they were finally out of sight, time to go. The surface of the trail was dry and hard so l hadn’t made any tracks in this area that I could see, but I’d walked through a little marshy area not that far down the trail and it struck me hard that they would see my foot prints in the soft ground and know instantly that I was behind them.
I was now in a hurry; when they found my tracks, they’d rush back down the trail to pick up on me. I had to move quickly or risk them catching up to me before I could clear this forest area that they controlled. “Trip that cord, the blast will be your last.” Thanks, little voice I needed that.
Moving way to fast I just happened to see a small branch in the trail about ten feet in front of me; “now that’s out of place” my little voice said. I jerked to a halt; yes, that is out of place and really looked like a marker. I crept up very slowly checking ever inch of surface of the trail and carefully scanning for anything that looked like a trip wire crossing high or low against the leaves and brushy sides. Nothing; I stood still staring, again nothing I could pick out. I took one step forward and knelled down on one knee, still nothing. “Oh, it’s there” Thank you little voice… where? A falling leaf caught my eye, drifting down doing the floating on its back swirling back and forth motion as they do, it hit something four feet up making it spin hard and change directions, then six inches from the dry dirt on the trail it suddenly stopped hanging in mid-air by an invisible force. I inched closer; the trip wire wasn’t visible until my nose was less than a foot from it. So thin you’d think it would have broken with the leaf hanging on it; perfectly colored to blend in and not to reflect light, this was a cleaver killing trap. No one would see either wire.
Standing inches from the trip wire I looked down the trail in front of me; three very faint mole hills. You’ve seen thousands of them, these were clearly mole hills that the rain and wind had nearly cleared, just the little outline was left. I wasn’t buying it…
Back on my knees again I followed the trip wire to the left until I saw where it was tied to a stalk of a bush; going right I traced the thin wire to where it went into what looked like a small box maybe four inches high and eight wide. “Claymore” thank you little voice, I knew that.
I back tracked a few feet and slowly moved through the brush on the claymore side, I was worried that they’d set more traps to the sides but I made it without tripping anything, more luck? Coming back to the trail just past the trip wire and the claymore mine I knelt before the first old mole hill. Yep, three little spikes sat in the middle of where the mole hole use to be, more mines, this was a killing field and I was standing right in the center of it.
It’d been close to an hour; I knew the three shadows had to be closing on me. Let’s see, if I move off the trail here to hide, they’d have to fan out to go around this trap also, that would have them stepping on me if they came to the same side I picked. I had to get moving or get caught standing flat footed unable to go forward, backward or to either side, I had to move fast.
As I inched forward checking everything down to spiders’ webs, I started to think, how would I set up this trap if I had an invisible trip wire and then three or more ground mines? I’d place traps out from the sides of the trail. Any group that tripped the first mine and any of the mole hill mines would surely leave the trail and bushwhack for a distance to keep off the trail. I think the trail is clear and the sides are all mined; only one way to find out…
Five minutes later I think I’m out of the mined area; time to make a hide out. I very carefully stepped off the trail in an area that wasn’t exactly brushy. The trees were further apart then the killing zone, no one in their right mind would pick this area to hole up to hide in a search. I’d have to make the best of it. Finding a narrow tree with ferns around it I pushed tree litter and leaves in a little raised hill and formed the ridge around my body and dug down as far as I could without disturbing the natural flat surrounding area. I’d be pretty hard to see unless they stepped on me. My bug-out bag would be the hardest to hide; it was a good foot thick or more and the edges were sharp making it easy to be out of place on the forest floor. I reached way out and picked a few fern brows sticking them in the webbing of the bag as best I could. Pushing it below my feet so my body made a slight rise in the ground before it got to the big bag; hopefully it would look like an old stump under the leaves.
I was just trying to get comfortable when I heard a crack of a tree limb breaking, one of them had stepped on a dry branch as they must be going around the trip wire area. Two minutes and the three shadows were slow walking down the center of the trail looking in every direction at once. I buried my face in the dirt. Complete silence.
I’m going to sneeze.
Oh, so slowly but as fast I could, I moved my left arm from my side and laid my index finger between my eyes pressing hard. I was seeing stars………. Five minutes, ten minutes, I think I have to be okay. Slowly I raised my head just clearing my eyes above the leaf pile I’d made. Twenty yards in front of me standing in the center of the trail is number three with the SAR staring into the forest not moving an inch, just staring. Lucky for me he was looking away from where I was hiding. I lowered my head back into the ground.
I slight breeze was starting rustling the ferns making enough background noise if my stomach growled it might be covered. Ten minutes went by; this is not a game I’m good at. Ask me to sit still for five minutes I can’t do it. Now I’ve been as still as possible for nearly a half hour, this is killing me, I ache and itch everywhere, I’m starting to cramp up, I’ve got to move; I could hear my mom’s voice barking at me “You couldn’t sit still if your life depended on it.” Yep Mom your right.
As slowly as possible but not smoothly I raised my head, it kind of came up in little jerks clearing the leaves. Working hard to only move my eyes I couldn’t see any of the three hunters. Coming up further resting on my arms under my chest I could see down the trail at good 50 to 75 yards the trees were getting thinner that direction. I held my position for maybe a minute, nothing that I could see. I rolled over on my back stretching out my arms and legs.
Checking my watch, it was just a couple minutes after two; dark is about five hours away. This trail has taken me away from the side of the mountain someplace around a quarter mile or so. If I was them, I’d be sitting at the end of this thinner treed area and watch the trail until dark. I think it’s time to bushwhack straight to the side of the mountain and just hole up until tomorrow morning. Roger said yesterday when he saved me from tripping the mine wire that there was a camp up that trail a way; I wonder if most of these trails lead to that camp? I might just be walking right into trouble staying on these trails very much longer and I’d been damn lucky so far today.
Getting up on my knees I couldn’t see anyone, after a few minutes to my feet keeping the small tree, I’d been hiding next to between me and the direction the trail led; not much to hide behind but anything was better than nothing. Surveying the ground in the direction I wanted to go I could see that if I backtracked a little there was a wide depression in the ground, if I got in the bottom of it and kept low, I might be below eye level for a long way across this sparsely wooded area. I moved keeping low, not quite on hands and knees but damn close. Reaching the depression, the ground was soft and moist. I was happy to find the ferns and low under bush was much taller here than up on the drier area I’d just come from. I could move quickly, hunched over was enough that I couldn’t see more than a few yards in either direction except the way I wanted to go. I made ground as fast as I could keeping the noise of pushing through the ferns and light brush quiet.
The mountain was closer than I thought; walking slowly on the trail looking at your feet for traps you lose any track of where in the woods you are. In this section the steep sides of the mountain came down into huge boulder piles then thinning out to piles of mixed medium and small rocks with brush growing up between them; medium being five or six feet round with jagged edges. No way could anyone place traps in these boulder fields, they’d have to have people watching this area to catch anyone moving through.
I pulled my rifle off my pack and checked to make sure it was ready; pulled my pack straps down tight and started jumping from rock to rock; I was terrible at sitting still, but boulder jumping I was really good at. The trees and brush between boulder fields concealed any movement to under twenty yards. You could move across a large open area and into the next group of trees and brush quickly; if you ran into someone it would be a point-blank range before you’d see them; I was keeping my eyes up looking forward.
It’s almost six and the sun is low in the ski; time to find a safe place to overnight, I’ve moved along really fast and covered a good distance. I think it would be better to move up into the really huge rocks farther up the mountain. I just have to be extra careful as I move out of the cover of the brush and trees to get up where I think no one is going to go in the dark.
God really does protect fools; I was just above the trees in the big heavy rocks and found a nice spot about ten feet square between boulders, bonus, nearly flat and level. Perfect; light gravel filled the bottom and standing my head was about a foot under the top of the rocks. This would make a perfect place to overnight.
I rolled a small rock over to the lower edge of my hide, standing on it I could just see over the edge of the bounder on the downhill side, I couldn’t see down the through the boulder field but I had a nice view over the forest and beyond. A different time I would mark this place on my Garmin and maybe come back again to camp. What surprised me was seeing smoke coming up through the tree canopy; enough volume it had to be the camp Roger told me to avoid at all costs. Must be about a half mile South and a half mile from the side of the mountain where it starts to get steep. I could only hope to slip along the mountain side and get past into the open tomorrow.
I sat in the bottom of my hole and unloaded my entire bug-out bag. I made a careful list of everything I had, it was a pretty impressive list, I’d done rather well filling it with what I thought I might need if the time every came. Those YouTube videos helped a lot, there wasn’t much missing that I could see.
I made a MRE dinner of spaghetti and rolled out my pad and sleeping bag. The light dropped and yawning I took one more look over the top of my hide and could see smoke and light from the fires of the camp. Tomorrow I had to get past it and hopefully into some area that I could move through without getting blown into a red spray.
Good night; tomorrow’s going to be another big day. I wonder if I’ll see tomorrow evening.
The Ramblings
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