Lone Survivor (Book 1): All That Remains

by Hunt, Jack

  Her father had always had her back long before they bought a cabin and ventured into the Blue Ridge Mountains to pursue off the grid living. That was thirteen years ago, when she was only four. She’d learned so much in that time and remembered very little from when they were residents in the small mountain town of Ryerson, a community off the beaten path but not far from Blowing Rock.

  “Here, let me give you a hand,” he said reaching for the stick.

  She cut him off. “No, it’s fine. I can do it.”

  He smiled. “All right.” They began making their way back to their home situated a few miles away, higher up. There was something very peaceful to their way of life. It was simple, practical and slowly being embraced by others who didn’t want to be dependent on the grid.

  Although her father worked in town at an outdoor education center that trained and empowered individuals to embrace simple living, and she attended a regular high school, the focus was always on being close to nature. Of course that came with its frustrations and hardships as she entered her teen years and spent time with friends at their homes. She didn’t get the pop-culture references that her friends would laugh at, and returning from a home where at a flick of a switch there was light and heat versus shoveling wood into a furnace, or using solar power, yeah, it wasn’t easy but she was grateful for the skillset she’d gained, and it far outweighed being in the know about celebrities and the latest movies.

  Dragging the deer; her legs burned as she ascended a steep slope and panted hard. A wisp of air circled in front of her face like a ghostly apparition. Her father cast a glance over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow as if to make it clear that the offer to help was still there, but she pressed on; stubborn and determined.

  Silence permeated except for the crunch of their boots. The common sounds, sights and convenience of the city were far away and there were times when it could feel very isolated. Fortunately she had her father, a collection of goats, chickens and her German shepherd Grizzly to keep her company. And when cabin fever crept in over the vacation months, Ryerson was only a short forty-minute hike down through the mountain if she wanted to see friends.

  As they made it out of the dense forest into a clearing, their cabin and various sheds with steel roofs came into view. Their home was located on 225 acres, eight miles from Mount Pisgah and the Blue Ridge Parkway. When she brought friends up to stay on the occasional weekend they would head out to Black Balsam, Graveyard Fields, Skinny Dip Falls or Devil’s Courthouse. Though accustomed to phones, internet and modern convenience they would often say they never felt as alive as they did when visiting. Parked nearby was a four-wheel ATV, and beneath a carport a snowmobile and a used Kawasaki dirt bike that her father had bought for her when she turned fifteen.

  Her father used an SUV to get to work as there wasn’t any major roads that led up to their home. While some locals considered her father a survivalist, he was far from it. Her family knew preppers but that wasn’t them. They just enjoyed off-grid living and reconnecting with nature.

  The four-bedroom cabin, with kitchen, living room and dining area, was nestled into the woodland, protected from the wind on either side but exposed to the snow and sunshine from above, allowing them to fully charge the numerous solar panels that lined the roof and fed into their battery backup system. There had only been a few occasions they’d used the gas generator that had originally been installed but was barely needed nowadays.

  Nearby was a small outhouse with a composting toilet, and down the side of the home a 600-gallon water storage tank that collected rainwater gravity-fed into it through a large tube. It offered plenty for cooking, cleaning and showering. In the drier months they would often get their water from a nearby river or spring, all of it of course would be purified through boiling.

  Chickens could be heard clucking as they got closer. Her father made a comment about collecting the eggs for the morning before they turned in for the night. Attached on the other side of the home was a greenhouse where they would grow all types of vegetables all year round. It was one of the many places where Beth would spend her time, pruning, and picking beans and tomatoes. In the winter months they had to use poly-film to hold in the day’s heat.

  Bells jangled on goats as they came out to acknowledge their return, as did Grizzly who launched himself out of the house and came bounding over to see what she’d caught.

  “Back up, Grizzly. You’ll get your share later,” Beth said.

  He wagged his tail and charged back into the cabin. They brought the deer into a shed that was used for storage and cleaning. Her father would skin a deer and hang the whole carcass so the blood could drain out, then he would remove it piece by piece; rinse and smoke some of the meat, can small amounts, and then cure the rest with salt or brine. A good portion of it though would be freeze-dried.

  “Look, I know this season is hard for both of us but we’ll get through it, okay?” her father said, giving her a hand to bring the deer into the large shed. “By the way, I have to go into town tomorrow and close up the center for the season. I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours. Is there anything you want me to get you?”

  “Gummy bears.”

  “Really? That stuff can’t be good for you.”

  She chuckled. “Some would say the same about the way we live.”

  “Ah… they just frown upon what they don’t understand, kid. If the world around us fell apart, which is very likely to happen in this day and age, at least we wouldn’t be fretting. But those folks down there — they’ve become so reliant on the grid they wouldn’t know what to do. Heck, if the internet is down for longer than an hour people have a cow, can you imagine something worse?”

  She nodded. Nearly all of her friends’ parents were intrigued by the free-spirited approach to living but when it was suggested that they could easily do it, they would turn their nose up or say it was too hard and cost too much. Who had the time to throw logs on a fire, or hunt for their supper when the local grocery store and Amazon gave them everything they needed?

  “What if the weather is worse tomorrow and the trail’s not clear?” She asked.

  “I’ll hike. I have to make sure it’s all secure until the new year.”

  “You won’t stop off at—”

  “No. Of course not.”

  He said that but she didn’t believe him. After the death of her mother he’d hit the bottle hard and she’d found a few hidden in his sock drawer and smelled it on his breath lately. The truth was they both missed her but drinking his way through it didn’t make it easy. He still had to wake up sober the next day and face the world.

  “Can I come with you?”

  “No,” he said in a quick and harsh tone that made her question if he was telling the truth. She knew the education center’s cabins needed to be closed up for the winter but with Christmas, and snow on the ground, the bar’s neon lights would shine brighter.

  3

  Russ Black brought the high-powered binoculars up to his eyes and scanned the deserted road for cops. He twitched nervously while two of his guys waited nearby on ATVs. The drop-off was meant to occur sometime that day at Ghost Town in the Sky. It was a well-known abandoned Wild West theme park in Maggie Valley on top of Buck Mountain. The place had been closed since the early 2000s due to renovations, equipment failures and bankruptcy, though many said it was cursed — Russ Black called bullshit on that. He didn’t believe in luck, curses or any of that mumbo jumbo. People just loved to make excuses instead of owning their crap. Not him, he was a go-getter, a make it happen kind of guy — and make it happen was exactly why he was at that run-down shithole in the middle of the afternoon. If he’d been given an exact time when the goods would arrive, he would have shown up then but the arrangement wasn’t as clear cut as that. There were shifting variables.

  He figured they’d kick back, have a few beers and spend the day exploring while they waited for the package that would change the future of his enterprise and catapult him to t
he next level of business. Okay, the package was Cayden’s and he was just his errand boy but he’d figured out a way to take a slice off the top without him knowing. That’s all he needed. A little something to get his side business going. After sharing the idea with Morgan Brown and Tommy Chen, two of his closest friends, they’d agreed to go in on it with him. And for a short while he could see it working out. The problem was only minutes earlier the mobile police scanner app had alerted them to a call of three youngsters trespassing in the roped-off amusement park.

  Youngsters? He was thirty-four. They must have mistaken them for some of those vloggers that had been nabbed over the past few years exploring the location.

  “You see anything?” Tommy Chen asked from behind a cloud of vape. He was Chinese American, with a thin frame with a full head of slick black hair, and temporary tattoos over his face. He said he had connections to the Triad Mafia but that was a lie. The guy was adopted by the most unthreatening white suburban churchgoers that North Carolina could spit out. Still, when it came to brutality, he wouldn’t think twice about pulling that butterfly knife out of his pocket and slicing someone up.

  Morgan Brown on the other hand was the real deal. He’d already done time inside for beating a shopkeeper within an inch of their life, just because they’d given him the wrong change. Now that was a guy with issues. How his stocky, black, five-foot-two hulking frame managed to fit into that tan faux shearling jacket was a mystery. When he wasn’t chugging back beer, he’d lift weights and inject steroids in his ass thinking he wasn’t big enough.

  “Nothing,” Russ replied. “Hey, Brownie, you sure that damn app isn’t faulty?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno. Cayden says it’s good, it’s good.”

  “Oh yeah, Cayden says something, everything’s true,” he muttered to himself shaking his head.

  Cayden Harris was notorious in the region, a man who’d established multiple businesses and had his fingers in anything that generated money. He also happened to be Russ’ uncle and the only reason he wasn’t working some shit job at a 7-Eleven. Of course he would remind him of that any chance he got. He’d offered him work back when he was fourteen, and was living with his crack whore mother out of a trailer. Who wouldn’t have jumped at it? At first it was just doing runs for him, packages around town, that soon turned into other jobs, each one more dangerous than the last.

  Up until now he figured his future would end in jail or with a bullet in his head; that was, until he started thinking of ways to turn the tables and use his position to his advantage. Yep, if this worked out today, he expected to be working for himself before the year was out.

  He brought the binoculars up again and this time he spotted between the trees a white cruiser coming up Rich Cove Road. Shit! He dashed over to his ATV, panic climbing in his chest.

  “Let’s go. It’s the cops.”

  Chen panicked. “What? Which way?”

  He fired up his ATV, it let out a rumble and pointed to the area ahead known as Ghost Town Main Street, it was the stretch that resembled the Old Wild West. It had a saloon, a jail, a hotel, a doctor’s office, a general store and multiple other businesses either side of a dirt road that cut through the middle.

  Like many of the locals, he’d visited numerous times, flown a drone over the site and knew it like the back of his hand. Right now they just needed to get out of sight. Chances were the cop would circle around in his cruiser and once he was satisfied the place was empty, he’d be on his way.

  As they roared down the street, Russ looked back and saw tire tracks slicing through the untouched snow. He cursed under his breath. The cop didn’t need to be smart to follow tracks. Think fast. He was gonna ditch the ATVs around back and climb up onto one of the roofs and stay there until he was gone. Now it looked like they had two options: wait until he came down Main Street and circle around the buildings and head out the same way they came in, or cut through the forest.

  Russ opted to go around back and slip down through the forest and wait it out. There was no way the cruiser could follow and the cop sure as hell didn’t get paid enough to go on some wild goose chase over a simple trespassing infraction.

  Their engines growled as they veered off the narrow road and bounced over the hilly terrain leaving the theme park behind. He figured they wouldn’t have to wait longer than thirty minutes and the cop would be back in Maggie Valley attending the next call.

  At the bottom of the slope they veered onto Pretty Ridge, a road that cut through a residential area of homes nestled in the mountain. It was covered in tire tracks, theirs soon blended in as they wound their way down. They pulled up into someone’s shrouded, empty driveway and took a breather. Russ shut off the engine and Morgan laughed. “Oh it never gets old,” he said. “And there was me thinking my days of running from the cops were over. Lucky we didn’t stick around. I didn’t like the idea of popping a cap in his ass.”

  Russ frowned. “And why would you do that?”

  He chuckled. “You’re joking, right?”

  “You’re packing?”

  Morgan pulled out a revolver from a holster under his jacket. “You’re damn right.”

  “What did I tell you?”

  “Cayden cleared it. You think we’re rolling up to a drop-off unarmed?” Morgan laughed and looked at Tommy, who looked as if he didn’t know how to react. “Come on man, are you serious?”

  Russ shook his head in disbelief. Sure he would carry a piece at times but he’d given him specific instructions to leave it at home. Morgan already had a bad rap sheet, the last thing they needed was cops frisking them and finding a piece on him. That led to questions and Morgan wasn’t good at answering.

  Morgan pulled a face. “Relax. We’re fine,” he said slapping the front of Russ’s chest as he strolled over to the front door and peered in the window.

  Russ took out a cigarette to calm his nerves. It wasn’t trouble with the cops that bothered him as much as it was Cayden finding out what he was planning. He trusted Tommy but Morgan was a wild card, and he couldn’t read him on the best of days. Russ looked over at the house. The home owners must have been away on Christmas vacation as there were no vehicles or tire tracks in the driveway, and the mailbox was full — a common mistake.

  Needing to kill some time he got off the ATV and they went around and checked the windows and doors. All were locked barring one window that led into a mud room. “Man, people are stupid,” Tommy said, lifting and climbing in. Inside they rooted through the cupboards searching for anything of value while Morgan made himself a sandwich and knocked back another beer. It was his third and he was already looking a little tipsy.

  “You know what, slow down a little. I need you clear headed.”

  “You worry too much, Russ. Live a little.”

  If he wasn’t two sizes bigger than him, he would have slapped him but that was why Cayden wanted him to tag along. If anyone would pull the plug and say something to Cayden it would be Morgan. Russ had to know where his loyalties were. While Tommy was upstairs, Russ went into the kitchen and leaned against the counter smoking a cigarette.

  “You good about this?”

  “Of course, wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” Morgan replied.

  “No, I mean about...”

  “Taking a cut?” Morgan snorted. “You’re not the first and you won’t be the last, Russ.”

  He bit into his sandwich and slopped it around in his mouth.

  “So you won’t say anything?”

  “As long as I get my share. I don’t care if a little goes missing.”

  “Right. Exactly,” Russ said. He walked over to the kitchen sink and poured himself a glass of water, chugging it back as if putting out a fire. He wanted to believe Morgan; he really did but he got a sense that he wasn’t exactly being truthful. The problem was he’d already gone out on a limb and told him. If he wanted to throw him under the bus he could, so he had to watch what he said and that included questioning his actions, which he’d already d
one.

  Morgan shook his sandwich at him. “I don’t get you. He’s your uncle. He pays us well. You’re taking a big risk going through with this. Why?”

  “Maybe I don’t want to live in his shadow.”

  “You also don’t want to be looking over your shoulder. Let me tell you something, Russ. When I was in the clanger, I did a lot of things to survive. Inside, it’s all about who you know and who’s watching your back. Connections are everything. You live and die by them. You screw someone over on the inside, you might as well cut your own throat as that’s where it ends. The same applies out here.”

  “But you agreed to it.”

  “I agreed to see what would happen. But I’m telling you this. As much as I like you, Russ, and we go way back, man, if Cayden catches word of this and pushes me into a corner for answers, I’m gonna tell him the truth.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “It’s survival, man. Not personal.”

  Russ chewed over what he said. After forty minutes and a few beers they headed back up to the park taking the same route they had escaped on. It was on the west side of the park and since they were spotted coming from the east, he figured that it wouldn’t happen again. When they made it to the top, Russ pulled into the street and killed the engine. He glanced at his phone to see if a text had come in from the pilot. Nothing.

  “Well let’s take a look around,” he said as he wandered down one of the wooden sidewalks in the Western town and peered into windows. Russ rattled a few doorknobs looking to enter but they were locked. Tommy was doing the same on the other side of the street.

  “So where’s this plane gonna land?” Tommy asked.

  “Ghost Town Road.”

  “That tiny stretch?”

  “Don’t ask me; he says he can do it.”

  Russ looked around. “Where’s Morgan?”

  “He was here a minute ago. I think he went down between the buildings back there.”