Re: The Long Road Home
Chap 22 - Meeting
Part of Steve wanted to rush in and find Rommel. To see if he was alright and to wreak havoc on what or who might have brought him harm. But Steve's training was stronger and he maintained his vigilance, trying to discern what had caused the noise.
There! He heard it again and this time almost laughed out loud. For he heard the hiss of a very angry tomcat followed by a playful young dog. Steve eased into the shadows of the darkened warehouse and softly called to Rommel. Steve noticed the dust settling around a piece of steel sheeting. That was what had made the loud bang and brought Steve's heart into his throat. Steve had been so intent on finding danger he had let his imagination fill in the blanks when he had heard the steel fall.
Rommel paused in his pursuit of a dog's mortal enemy to return to Steve's side. From the look on his face Steve could almost hear his thoughts, wondering why this human had stopped him when he had almost triumphed.
Still looking around Steve once again decided this was a valid stopping spot and returned to gather his belongings.
Since the opening didn't open enough to allow Steve to bring the bike in the warehouse he pushed it behind a nearby dumpster. It would be almost invisible in the darkness, besides he would be leaving soon. He wanted to stop long enough to eat and clean up after his long swim.
Once again inside the abandoned warehouse Steve quietly but quickly moved some of the remaining sheeting to form a sort of lean-to. This would lower the chances of someone seeing his little stove while he heated water, and give him some protection if he was found.
Rommel looked longingly out at the empty warehouse, trying to find the bane of all dogs' existence, that cat. He stayed simply because food was more important than the cat. This time!
Steve removed his damp, muddy clothes. He used his baby wipes and washcloth to remove the accumulated sweat, dried river and grime. Spreading the clothes across the steel to dry as much as possible, he dressed in a pair of BDU pants and a grey T-shirt. Fresh socks and he was ready once again to travel.
His water was ready so he added a coffee packet along with sugar and creamer. He took a pint sized summer sausage and a small bag of GORP from his pack to feed his hunger with.
He poured Rommel a bowl from the bag of food he had gotten from the store and together they beat down their hunger pains in preparation for the rest of the night.
Diane heard a rustling as her mother stood up from the bushes she had been hiding behind. Her red face showed her anger as she marched over to Diane.
"Young lady, what did you think you were doing?"
"Going off for most of the day, leaving us to fend for ourselves!"
"Look at your brother, he is real sick and you just traipse off to who knows where with no concern for him!"
"Anything could have happened to us while you were out having "fun"".
"I heard a truck and just know those men had found us. I had to drag Tim all by myself into hiding!"
Diane could not believe her ears. Without giving her a chance to explain what she had done or what she brought back for "the family", her mother was trying to put her on a guilt trip. Blaming her for their situation instead of accepting the blame herself. Diane could feel the anger and frustration building up inside her. The effort to avoid striking out, either verbally or physically, was causing her lips to tremble against her clenched teeth and her insides to churn.
In order to maintain what little respect she had left for her Mother she simply slammed the food and medicine into Donna's hands then turned and walked away to be by herself.
How could on person be so naive and hardheaded! So stupid and single minded that they would not see "they" were the problem not others.
Diane found a secluded spot away from her mother near the railroad tracks and settled down. Her thoughts were in turmoil. Not yet an adult, matured by life and on her own, she still thought of her parents as her protectors. The position she was being forced into was foreign to her but she was determined to learn quickly. Her father was gone, killed by a situation her mother had forced him into, and her mother lived in another world. A world in which she was not to blame for anything and everyone looked out for her. What a crock!!
Diane stared at the stars so big and beautiful, so oblivious to her problems. At this low point in her young life she remembered a lesson her Sunday school teacher had told once. A story of two disciples locked in a dungeon in a hopeless situation. She closed her eyes and gave a silent prayer for deliverance from the situation or at least help through the trials.
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Steve didn't consider himself a deliverer, no just a man on a mission. Kind of like the Blues Brothers movie he thought with a slight grin "A mission from God" as they were so fond of saying. Well his family was God given and he was on a mission to get back to them to assume his job as leader and protector so he guessed the saying fit.
All fed and cleaned Steve with his adopted pet (mutt was more like it he mumbled to no one in particular) set out to travel as many miles as they could before sunup. Since they had a ways to go before they once again met the rails Rommel would have to hoof it. Rommel didn't seem to mind it one bit, as he ran about, probably looking for his cat thought Steve. Steve packed more weight on the right side of the bike to offset the folded outriggers on the left side and headed on south.
Still following US17, staying in the shadows and the darkness they rode through South Charleston on to Ravenel. Both areas were blacked out except for a few dim yellow lights Steve opinioned came from kerosene lamps or candles. Most of these folks were not far removed from the lifestyles led by their parents and were much more prepared than their city brethren. At least in the short run they would be a little more uncomfortable and a little less friendly to strangers but life would go on as before.
Steve kept the small travel LED's off as he maneuvered through Ravenel. The town was quite even in normal times, more of a suburb of Charleston than a stand-alone town. Steve rode along US17, the darkness enveloping him as he traveled.
Soon they left Ravenel behind and would meet the rails just up the road. Steve figured they had about two hours before daybreak. He wanted to make camp just before sun-up to avoid contact with anyone getting up with the sun. Most of the people around here would be cautious but not overly hostile, but it only took one person to misinterpret your intentions to ruin your day or life. Best to avoid strangers as much as possible. The burned out hulk of a car they passed on the side of the road was mute testimony to what could happen to the careless traveler.
Bill could not believe their luck. He also could not believe those bit@#s had stayed around after his son had knifed the old man. They had chased after them right after that incident but had lost them in the trees and darkness. They next day they had returned to look for tracks but had been scared off by a passing deputy. Then late yesterday on a last look around they had spotted the older woman and the boy. He did not look in to good a shape, kinda feverish and sluggish, with a bandage on his arm. Guess his knife had made contact the other night. Jeff wanted to take them right then, but he decided to wait. He owed that little brat something and wanted to find them all together. He figured to have some fun with the women before removing the witnesses to the killing.
It should have been simple, just like the other two times they had pulled the breaking down trick. With the world falling apart the law wasn't as much a problem anymore. He could finally indulge his fantasies and his son was more than willing to go along.
The other cars had been easy, take out the men and have fun with the women before killing them. The last car with the two young twins had been a dream come true. They had lasted almost two weeks at the old cabin before Jeff had gotten carried away and killed them.
That kid and his bat had spoiled the scene and Jeff still was ticked about being bested by a girl. Bet she screams a long time before I’m finished with her, he thought with a wicked grin.
They had left the area once the older woman had spooked and pulled the boy further into the bushes. Her efforts were almost funny, born out of panic not planning. If they had wanted her then they could have easily taken her. They had left with the intentions to return later and catch them all together. Bill liked working at night better anyway. The darkness added to the victim's fear and made them more vulnerable.
Diane dried her tears and slowly got up. She had to face her mother now or turn around and abandon both her brother and Donna. That was something she was not yet ready or able to do. Donna was once again cradling Tim in her arms, the food had been eaten with no thought of saving any for later. Her mother had apparently used the antibiotic ointment on Tim's arm from the look of the tube lying on Tim's lap.
Donna did not even appear to recognize Diane's return, continuing to whisper childish things to the boy while stroking his forehead. Diane once again was reminded of how much of a fairy tale world her mother lived in and how ill equipped she was to live in this new era.
Had Diane been more attentive to her surrounding instead of her grief she might have heard the sound of silence as the night creatures recognized bigger predators were around and silenced themselves in hope the creature's would pass them by.
Bill and Jeff could have cared less about the insects. They had run moonshine and drugs before the crash, forest sounds and their meaning meant nothing to them. They were some of the few in the area that had never hunted much and hated the effort it took to live off the Forest, preferring an easier way to survive.
They had returned to watch the small clearing, waiting for the younger girl to join the other two. Jeff had spotted her as she slowly came back into the clearing and silently sat down on the far side away from the older woman. Diane
Didn't know it but by staying away from her mother she had made the two men's job a little harder as they now had to split up instead of attacking together.
Jeff noticed the younger girl had changed from her jeans into a loose fitting dress, in his warped mind he imagined that she had done it all for him. His twisted brain took it a step further, fantasizing she wore nothing underneath the dress, just for him.
Diane felt as much as heard or saw the man as he rushed out of the brush and smothered her. She didn't have time to cry out and was hampered both by sitting down and by the dress she was wearing and could not effectively defend herself, but she tried. She forgot all about not wearing underclothes as she kicked and fought the dark figure, yelling as the man defended himself.
Donna saw the figure run toward her, her brain unable to comprehend what was happening. The shadow punched Tim and pulled her up from her position only to throw her back down on the hard ground. The trauma and violence caused her to withdraw deep inside herself while the man ripped her blouse as he roughly mauled her breast.
Jeff slowly eased closer to the girl that had caused him to be ridiculed by his father about being whipped by a girl. Just thinking about assaulting the teenager in payback caused him to undergo a physical reaction in readiness.
He rushed out of the underbrush, jumping on top of her and grabbing her before she could cry out. He was not ready for the aggressiveness of her response. All the other girls had cried and begged him not to hurt them, this one almost ruined his chance of future offspring with her first kick. He turned almost by accident as the kick landed taking the blow on the inner thigh instead of the jewels. As they struggled he realized the girl truly did not have anything on under her dress, the feel of her unfettered breast against his arm gave him new strength to overpower the girl and deliver a sharp backhand that stunned the teenager causing her yelling to be abruptly cutoff.
Bill was disgusted. He hated it when they just rolled over without fighting him. He loved the fight, getting really turned on by the struggle, before taking away the females modesty and exerting his right, as conqueror, to the spoils. He heard Jeff fighting with the girl but knew the boy would take her, besides his lust for the woman caused him to ignore the struggles. He ripped the woman's blouse open, almost tearing her bra in his haste to satisfy his desires.
Jeff paused to catch his breath, lifting up the unconscious girl's dress to see heaven before him. Still living his fantasy he never heard the bullet that killed him.
Steve led Rommel through a small path finding the track on the other side. He extended the outrigger after setting the tires on the right rail. Rommel jumped up into his accustomed perch as Steve mounted the bike. Slowly peddling along Steve looked for an area to stopover for the day. He wanted some place that would give them cover and protection.
A strangled yell brought him instantly into alert mode. Rommel sat up with a deep warning growl verifying what Steve had heard.
Steve wanted to avoid confrontations but the sound seemed to come from directly in front of him. He did not want to become involved in a situation but if he did he wanted it to be on his terms.
Steve glided to a stop still listening for what had alerted him. Once again he heard a yell but this time one cut off abruptly. Steve grabbed his SKS and blended into the darkness of the woods.
He slowly worked his way toward the source of the noise, arriving to find two course men, two women and a young boy. The older of the two men was holding the older woman down, while the younger man sat holding the younger girl's dress up. The youth was not moving, whether injured, dead or unconscious Steve could not tell.
As Steve tried to make sense of the situation, and determine if he should intervene, his decision was made for him when the younger man started to unbuckle his pants.
The girl (for Steve could now see she was in her teens) started to groan. She suddenly screamed and tried to push away from the man but he pulled her closer and delivered a slap. Steve heard the blow as well as the command to "Shut up Bi&#h and take what's coming to you". The man removed a knife from its scabbard and raised it toward the girl.
Steve was raised to believe women were man's companions and helpers. Someone to protect and love. If a woman wanted to be the center of attention at a lust party that was her choice. But if she was forced, his Grandfather raised him to intervene if possible. Of course the first rule of survival is to survive yourself.
The slap and the knife were the final straw. Steve's Grandfather used to tell him that sometimes a woman or a child needed a little correction, always in love and never with violence. He had provided an example at Steve's expense several times but Steve knew the old man loved him and he loved his Grandfather in return.
If a man crossed that fine line between correction and abuse he was not a man, just an animal.
"Looks like hunting season just opened," thought Steve as he raised the SKS and sighted on the younger man.
The man never heard the roar of the SKS nor the crack of the bullet as it traveled toward him at 2400 feet per second. He certainly felt the 124-grain projectile as it slammed him carelessly aside in the millisecond before he died.
The bullet entered his chest from the left and ended up lodged under the right after passing through his heart. Steve didn't pause to examine the shot, as he knew a killing shot when he made it. He raised up to stop the older man who had paused in his rape of the older woman at the sound of the SKS.
The man tried to rise but a caress of the SKS's buttstock stopped him in the middle of his confusion.
Silence...It was always like this after a battle. The sudden violence, the noise and confusion, then silence as the survivors recovered, glad to be alive.
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Chap 23 - The Truck Ride
Steve checked on the women first. The younger one seemed fine, though Steve could tell she was holding back the tears. She was gamely trying to hold on and not give in to the shock and trauma of the past few minutes.
The older woman was another story. Donna, as the younger girl introduced her, was obviously in shock. Steve knew he was not equipped to deal with this problem. She would have to work it out on her own.
Steve next checked on the boy. His arm had become badly infected and he was running a fever. As Steve checked the teen, he noticed the younger girl walk over to him. Steve glanced at her as she came close but figured she was interested in what he was doing or concerned for her brother. Steve concentrated on the task of fixing up Tim's arm and paid her no more attention. Before he knew, what was happening or could react she lifted his rifle from where he had laid it and pumped two shots into the older man.
The man had returned to consciousnous and was starting to quietly moan and move around. Steve had almost forgot about him as he had checked on the family, tending to their needs.
"Must be more tired than I thought," Steve mumbled to himself as he replaced the Makarov he had unconsciously drawn back into its holster.
Steve got up and moved carefully to Diane reaching for the SKS. Center of mass noticed a part of Steve's brain, surprised, as he took the gun from the girl's hand.
As the weight of the gun was removed from her hands the tears started flowing from her eyes, then a river of emotions poured out from her. Whether from
Killing another human being or just the overall events Steve didn't know.
Steve wrapped an arm around her, as he would his own daughter, giving her the security she sought. Steve felt helpless, he could handle bullies and rapists, but a crying female made him, like most men, feel helpless. She soon regained her composure, once again damming the emotions, and returned to her mother's side.
"That's one tough girl," thought Steve "but she will soon have to let all the emotions out or have long lasting problems."
Steve left to retrieve his bike, noting that Rommel was staying close to the boy's side.
"Well, it's another fine mess you've gotten me in Ollie," He thought, in his best Laurel and Hardy accent, as he walked away.
Once Steve had returned with his supplies, he went to the boy to clean away the infection. He first had to debride the wound to remove any foreign particles or damaged tissue. Then he would apply a good home remedy to keep the infection away and speed the healing process.
During the debriding process, the young teen moaned then cried out. Steve had tried to be gentle but the cut was deep and had not been cared for. Some type of ointment had been applied without really cleaning the wound.
Donna took that moment to snap out of her comatose state and lunging at Steve. She yelled at him to leave her boy alone, while swinging wildly toward him. Steve dropped what he had been doing to protect himself from this suddenly wild woman. Finally, he had no other choice but to go on the offence, grabbing the woman's arms mindless of hurting her, and shoving her down to a sitting position.
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Diane couldn't believe her mother. She caves in to her rapist, becoming docile and pliant, and then goes rampant attacking the man that rescued them.
As the man, he had introduced himself as Steve, gained control of Donna, Diane ran to help. Together they calmed her down with Diane staying by her side to make sure she stayed put.
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Steve returned to the boy rubbing the scratch Donna had given him on his cheek. "That was close," He thought, "It could have been the eye". Steve had come close to using a backhand on the woman, just to protect himself from her attack, only the thought of her recent trauma had stopped him. He figured she was still in shock from the near rape and her son's cry had finally triggered her attack.
He finished debriding the wound and then filled it with raw honey he got in trade from a neighbor. The honey gave him a duel use substance, both a sweetener and antibacterial agent (1).
Steve covered the wound with a bandage and gave another of his limited antibiotic capsules to the boy. He then cleaned his own scratch noting it was a little deeper than he thought, he would have to watch it in case it became infected.
Finished with the teen he walked over to Diane to get their story.
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Big Gun was getting desperate. Food was getting harder to steal as supplies continued to dry up and people guarded their meager supplies more aggressively. Fuel was being rationed; you needed coupons to get each week allotment now, meaning they needed to cut down on their joy rides or find someone to print their own counterfeit coupons.
"That might be a new business venture for them" He mused.
Just setting around was getting old and boring to his band of punks. He had even heard from a trusted lieutenant that one member was planning a revolt. That traitor had screamed for a long time before he stopped being a member. Fear would only work for a short time Big Gun knew. After all, he had a tenth grade education, which was at least one year more than most of his band.
It was about time to take a trip to the country. He would take most of the boys this time, give them some fun, and let them work off all their energy. That would take their mind off his position and any desire to take it.
"At least for awhile," he thought.
Big Gun knew what he had to do; still he got a dark forbidding feeling whenever he thought about attacking that one farm. He had not been able to find out who or what those greymen were and that more than anything made him hesitant to move.
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Steve moved to check on Donna now that she had calmed down and recognized he wasn't going to hurt her son. As he came close she wrinkled her nose and said
"You stink".
"Excuse me?" Steve asked not sure what she meant.
"You smell. When was the last time you bathed?" she asked with a smirky attitude.
Steve had already had about enough of her and he had not known her 1-hour yet.
However, in deference to her trauma he decided to do the Christian thing and give her another chance.
He walked away, deciding she must be ok or Diane would have said something.
Diane walked with him and gave him a condensed version of the past three days.
When she was through Steve could not help but be amazed at the determination of the young girl and the ignorance of Donna. Donna must rate right at the top of the list of the "Who's who" of sheeple for her acts so far!
Steve, still shaking his head at the people that look at the world through rose colored glasses, and started to fix something for them to eat. He filled his canteen cup with water and added half a pack of chicken flavored Ramen noodles.
He thought this would be something Tim could try to eat. He needed to eat something to regain his strength, strength he would need to help his sister and mother through these times. Of course Diane had been doing pretty good so far, and if Donna would only open her eyes and pitch in they might make it.
The noodles were soon boiling. He took them off the fire and sat them aside to cool a bit before Diane could try to feed her brother. He made a small bowl from some tin foil he carried and poured the soup into it. It would cool faster and free up his cup for more cooking chores. He cooked more of his dehydrated beans and quick cooking rice for them to eat along with a few miscellaneous items from leftover MRE's.
Once he had dinner done, he fixed Rommel a meal that the dog promptly dived into with gusto.
Diane finished up preparing the food, once she saw how simple it was, leaving Steve the odious task of cleaning up their campsite.
Steve fist checked the man he had killed, emptying his pockets and removing the knife sheath from the stiff corpse's belt. The man had twenty-eight dollars in his wallet that Steve kept along with a cheap Leatherman knockoff. Steve would give the bounty to the family since he had no need of the items. The knife and sheath would come in handy in the future since they had not even a pocketknife now. Seems Donna thought Tim would get hurt if he were allowed to have anything sharp. Once again Steve was reminded of how lucky he was to have a Grandfather that taught him the skills he needed to survive. He was also taught personal responsibility for his actions.
Steve drug the body off into the woods a ways and returned for the other body.
This one was not as stiff since his demise was more recent. He had a set of keys, probably to their vehicle, and thirty-four dollars on him. Steve removed a sheath for his knife from a front pocket, inserting the knife into it to add to the bounty for the family.
Once the bodies were removed Steve spread leaves over the blood and set up a lean-to away from the worst off it. He spent a little extra time making the lean-to bigger than he normally would to have space for the family. He picked up the still feverish boy and carried him to the shelter. He then sat down finally to eat. Diane had eaten as well as Donna and Tim. The boy had woke up enough to drink the broth and eat about half the noodles, it was a start to his recovery.
Diane had waited until he was almost finished with his chores to fix his food so it was still hot.
"She will make a fine wife one day," thought Steve as he gratefully accepted the hot food.
Steve's water supply would have to be replenished soon, as it was never designed for four people and a dog, but for now Steve needed to rest. He really noticed how tired he was once he stopped to eat.
He walked over to the shelter to find Donna already there, hovering over Tim like a Mother hen over a sick chick. As Steve prepared to lie down She spoke again in that insolent tone that he hated.
"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded as he lay down.
"Going to sleep" he responded, you should try it.
"You are not sleeping in the same place I am" She retorted.
Slowly rising up to a leaning position Steve looked her right in the eye. He had had enough for one day.
"Lady you have two choices, stay here in this shelter or move outside away from it. I on the other hand am staying right here and getting some sleep. Whether you like it or not those are you only choices!" Was his hot reply.
"Some gentleman you are" She angrily responded as she got up to leave.
"Never said I was a gentleman," Steve said as he lay back down, "Just a man"
Exhaustion overcame anger and he was soon asleep, Rommel and his SKS close by.
He awoke late in the afternoon, rested but still tired, he looked around.
He would sleep for a week once he made it home, he thought.
Diane was resting next to Tim and Donna was curled up on the far side.
"Guess she decided company was better than pride" he thought with a smile.
Steve got up and tended to his toilet functions, changed his socks after powdering his feet and boots, and decided to look for the truck before it got to dark to see.
He left his bike and gear, only taking his personal gear and his rifle. Rommel was up and ready to take a walk so he started off.
It didn't take long to find the old truck. It had been backed into the woods far enough back to be partially hidden from the dirt road it was on. Looked like an early 80's Chevy extended cab two-wheel drive. It looked rough but the engine ran smooth once Steve let it warm up. Steve noticed there was only about half a tank of gas but riding beat walking any day. He cleaned out the cab best he could, removing food wrappers, dirty clothes (some female), and empty beer and drink cans. Steve hated to litter, but didn't see any trash barrels near, so he just left it in a small pile.
The bed of the truck wasn't the cleanest place around but it would do. Steve tossed an old blanket in the bed after shaking out most of the dirt. It would be fine for Rommel, much better than the ground he had been sleeping on.
Steve turned the truck around and drove back to the tracks, turned right and slowly drove along the side until he was near their camp. He carefully turned the truck around and parked as far away from the rails as he could.
He returned to the camp to find Diane waiting for him. The obvious relief on her face visible even in the fading light.
"Did you think I ran out on you" He asked with a grin.
"I was wondering until I saw your bike still here" she said " but the sound of the truck brought back to many fears".
"Sorry about that, I should have mentioned where I was going" He replied "I am not used to having people depend on me this last week or so"
"Anyway lets get everyone up and into the truck. We will see how far we can get in it" Steve said "Hopefully we will make Savannah and you will be home."
Diane turned to let her mother know their plans as he pushed his bike to the truck. He lifted it up on the bed with a little effort and made sure it was secure. He opened one of his side bags and took out his remaining granola bars.
They would suffice as lunch for now.
On his return Donna was up and helping a now awake Tim up. Steve gathered up the items he had taken from the men, placed them in a large size Ziplock bag and handed them to Diane. He then lifted Tim up and carried him to the truck.
Donna wrinkled up her nose at the interior of the vehicle, but one look at Steve's face by the interior light and she "humuffed" then got into the back.
Steve helped Tim into the back were he curled up on the seat. Diane rode shotgun as Steve drove. Rommel jumped into the bed like he belonged there as Steve closed the tailgate.
Steve ruffled Rommel's fur as he walked by and received a "kiss" in return.
Wiping "doggie love" off his face Steve got in the truck and cranked it up.
He slowly drove back along the tracks until he came to the dirt road. He turned right and then left onto US-17 headed to Savannah.
(1) http://www.jr2.ox.ac.uk/bandolier/bo...at/honey2.html or http://www.findarticles.com/m1279/19.../article.jhtml
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Chapter 24 - A long ride
They had been riding a little over an hour now, making real good time. Steve had stayed on US-17 avoiding the temptation to take the faster I-95 route, preferring safety to speed. They still averaged 60 miles an hour since little traffic was on the road due to the fuel shortage, curfews, and overall danger.
Steve hoped no one was watching the side roads as much as the highways. He also hoped no helo's were up with FLIR or they were in trouble. So far they had escaped detection and had not seen anybody but two other cars that chanced the expressway. Steve's only problem was Donna.
First she complained about the room she had, so Diane moved forward some. Then she complained about the wind from the open windows blowing in her face, so Diane rolled the window up until Steve made her lower it some for cross ventilation. Donna wanted the air conditioning on, even when Steve tried to explain about saving fuel. She complained about taking US-17 instead of the faster I-95 route. She complained about..., well you get the picture!
Finally about 10 miles north of Savannah Steve had had enough. He pulled over to the side and turned off the engine. He got out of the truck, dropped the tailgate and lowered his bike to the rough pavement, Donna providing background noise. Rommel had jumped down to tend to some "doggie business' so Steve folded his blanket to take with him.
The whole time Donna is yapping. "What are we stopping for?" "Are we out of gas?" "What are you doing", "I told you we should have taken the highway!"
Steve had had it. Fighting terrorists was easier. How someone could be so ignorant and hardheaded was beyond Steve's imagination, but Donna was classic living proof of a sheeple. Steve was a Christian and tried to live by the Christian principles of helping your brother, but there were limits. Steve tried to help anyone he could "if" they were willing to help themselves. Donna had proved she just wanted a keeper, something Steve didn't have the time or inclination for.
Diane came up to him, apparently to ask him to stay, but one look at his determined face and she changed her mind. She just thanked him for his help and asked his advice on what to do next.
"Even at a young age a woman could tell what a man was thinking" he guessed.
He told her that, short of dropping her mother off somewhere deep in the woods, she should just head on home, unless they had some family nearby they could stay with. He hadn't meant to be short with Diane, but he was tired and sick of Donna's whining. He tried to rein in his irritation, but right now he just wanted to be alone with no one to worry about except Rommel.
Steve took a deep breath after seeing the look of hurt on her face. He then explained that the truck should have enough fuel for them to make it home, but not much more. He also gave her as much advice and information as he thought she could remember. Diane reached up and gave him a hug and kiss. She turned quickly and walked back to the truck.
Steve could still hear Donna complaining as they drove away.
"Well Rommel, it's just you and me again." Steve said as Rommel bumped against his leg looking for attention.
Steve started pushing the bike looking for a place to stop and rest. He had been on the move for well over a week and decided he needed to observe a Sunday. He had just had the short layover at his primary cache and been sick then. He thought he deserved a day of rest to regroup and recharge. He needed to locate the nearest set of tracks on his map and calculate the best travel path. Maybe even call his wife if the phone circuits were up.
He pushed the bike on, enjoying the silence of the night (especially after listening to Donna for the last few hours). He enjoyed looking at the nighttime sky, watching God's painting, ever changing yet always the same. Pushing the bike gave both Rommel and him a chance to stretch out the soreness and get back in the groove before trying to make time riding.
The bike was working out great on the rails but it was a handful to push with the outrigger's folded. He had started out with the load balanced but the unpacking and repackaging, as well as using consumables had changed that balance. It was now heavier on the outrigger side than the over, not a tremendous amount but enough to be noticeable when it leaned too far over toward him.
Steve and Rommel pushed on in silence, content to enjoy each other's company, with nature providing background to their thoughts. Steve's allowed himself to think of Home and his family, especially his wife, and Rommel whatever dogs "think" of, probably his next meal.
Steve turned off US-17 onto a dirt side road that led into the forest. He had spotted something that had possibilities. A large mound of dirt just behind a stand of trees might afford him a good stopping place. The spot looked like a contractor had started to build but then had abandoned the area, leaving behind mounds of dirt piled up when leveling the ground. Nature was well along in recovering what was rightfully her's as Steve explored the area.
Steve found a spot giving him access but also cover from the road. The bike was inanimate so would not generate heat to be spotted from the air. Rommel and him were another story. If he could dig into the bank of dirt he could fashion a small cave that would hide their heat signature by the mass of the earth. Since he planned to stay over until late tomorrow night it would be worth the effort.
Wishing he had brought an entrenching tool to use instead of his small trowel, he started digging. He used the trowel normally to dig a latrine to answer nature's call, but it would make do for digging.
The bank was solid enough to maintain its shape without collapsing but soft enough to allow digging without too much effort. After watching him dig for a few minutes Rommel decided he didn't want to participate in Steve's fun. He wandered off to do whatever dogs do when their human slaves will not play with them or feed them.
Steve spent two hours digging and sweating before he was satisfied with his cave. Deep enough to afford shelter but not deep enough for the roof to overcome the force that held it in check. It was not really high enough to sit up in but it would give him a safe hideout if he needed it. Steve moved some fallen branches over the entrance to hide it from a casual search. It would not stand up to a detailed search but he planned to avoid giving anyone a reason to search here in the first place.
Steve slid his plastic ground cloth into the small cave then he removed his packs and slid them into the side niche he had made just for them. The niche would keep them out of his way but close by if he needed them.
Rommel returned just in time for midrats (1), his timing perfect to avoid work.
Steve decided he had done as much as he could to make it a safe hideaway for now, so he prepared his meal. Making sure Rommel was fed first, and while watching him devour his food, Steve dug a small hole for his alcohol burner. He took out the small square of diamond mesh that had been forgotten until he had found it while repackaging his supplies. He had cut it to place over a hole for his cup to rest on while heating. It was much more stable than what he had been using and could be used to cook small pieces of food if he had the time and security.
"Must be getting old," he thought, "shouldn't be forgetting things like this."
Steve had thought about adding a Sterno stove to his pack to be used with his burner but kept putting it off. He had even bought one, just never got around to putting it in his cache.
Well you can't remember everything nor can you carry everything so he would just make do, he thought.
As he waited for the water to boil he turned on his GPS to allow it to sync. He had noticed how low his food supply was when he was packing. Feeding a dog and four adults had taxed his supplies beyond what he had planned for. He had enough food for two more meals after tonight. Rommel still had plenty of food but dog chow was not worth looking forward to, even if dogs seemed to relish it. The water started boiling so he took it off and dumped in his last Ramen noodle pack.
The GPS synced up, finding at least four satellites to draw from. Steve casually noticed he was 45 feet above sea level as he wrote down his coordinates on the small pad he habitually carried. He would transfer them to his map, then use them to calculate his route once he entered his cave. Steve had the coordinates to all of his small secondary caches coded on his map. There were two between here and home that were close enough to use to replenish his supplies, should he need to. It looked like the need was there so he would make his plans to stop by the closest one first.
He finished his meal and decided to call it a night. He decided he would sleep until he woke up naturally then spend the day checking his gear, making any repairs needed and clean his SKS. It had crossed a river and been carried through forest as well as riding on his handlebars. It had also been fired recently (had it only been yesterday?) so Steve wanted to give it a good cleaning.
Most importantly he needed to find a source of water. He was not on the route he had mapped out and so needed to find a source to draw from.
Steve cleaned up his site, packing up his burner as well as his grate and cup after giving them a good cleaning. The last thing he needed was another bout of gastrointestinal distress.
He snuggled down into his burrow then pulled his screen of brush over the opening. Even though he had made room for Rommel the pup was reluctant to join Steve, deciding to lay down at the entrance instead.
Steve checked the cell phone but could not get a signal. He realized he felt exhausted, mentally as well as physically. He settled in and closed his eyes.
(1) Midrats - Military term for midnight rations, a meal served around midnight for the afternoon and night shifts.
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Originally Posted by flicker17
