Dave brought his hand up in a halting signal and we stopped, heads turning in all directions. He was looking closely at the ground. The blood trail must have been getting hard to see. I kept my eyes to the sides, Ruth to the rear and Julia to the front while Dave searched.
He turned and motioned for me to come forward. “I’ve lost the blood trail. I must have just nicked him or something. What do you think we should do?”
“You’re asking me,” I said with a shrug. “I’ve never hunted bear. What about waiting for more light, the sun will be above Sheep Mountain in a few minutes. At least we’ll be able to see.” I said, pointing back to the east.
“Julia; Ruth,” he said, getting their attention and motioning for them to join us. “We’re going to hang here for a few more minutes and wait for the sun to come up over the mountain,” he explained pointing to the east. “Once we have more light we’ll keep moving to the west.”
“What’s wrong?” Julia asked him.
“I’ve lost the blood trail, so we have to be careful,” he explained, “a wounded bear is much more dangerous than one that isn’t. “Doug and I both feel we need to wait for it to get a little lighter before moving on. When we do move, keep a sharp eye out especially in the shadows. If you see it, don’t announce it just start shooting. We’ll join in, trust me.”
We stood there, each looking in a different direction, watching for both the bear and Zs, when Julia opened up with her M4. I ducked. Ruth was next, firing her M4. I don’t know what they were shooting at, and I don’t know how many rounds the two of them put out, but I know for a fact Dave fired that .308 twice. My ears sounded like a beehive what with all the ringing going on.
The sudden silence got my attention and I lifted, with a grimace, turned and looked at what they had been shooting at. It was the bear. Julia had seen the beast sneaking up on us and opened up. The thing, we found out later, had circled on us, got down in a clump of scrub-oak brush along the creek, waiting for us to get closer. After we stopped and talked, it decided not to wait and quietly came at us when Julia saw it. Her quick action with no hesitation probably saved one or more of us some damage by the bruin.
The three with the rifles led the way, slowly approaching the carcass of the bear. I stayed back watching our three, six and nine positions while they focused on the front. Ruth’s hand on my shoulder made me stop. I turned and looked at the bear which, shot to pieces, lay there deader than a doorbell. I don’t think they missed one round they fired.
“Good shootin’…folks,” I said. “It had no clue what happened did it?”
“Don’t think so, friend,” Dave said.
“Do we skin it and save the meat?” Ruth asked.
Looking at the critter, I didn’t think any of the meat would be any good. All the bullet holes in the beast attested to that. At best, all we could hope for out of this would be some meat for hamburger. The hide – well none of us knew taxidermy. After explaining that, we decided to leave the carcass where it lay. Nature would have its way with it, so we turned and shambled along to the house.
Julia and Ruth volunteered to clean the rifles and reload magazines if the boys would make breakfast. Dave and I agreed and got out some eggs, bread for toast, peach jam, and some small deer steaks for the meal. I emptied the pot of coffee Julia had made earlier, pouring the remaining brew into Doug’s and my mugs, and made another fresh pot.
When breakfast was ready, I stuck my head in the front room where the ladies had their weapons dismantled for cleaning and said, “Hey, bear hunters, breakfast is up, come on in and eat.”
We sat together, held hands, and said a group prayer that was mostly thanking the Lord for the food and for allowing the four of us to live through the bear experience. We ate for the most part in silence.
Dave was first done and said, “I’ve been thinking, and have come to the realization that we’re born naked, wet and cold then things just get worse.”
Julia, Ruth, and I looked at him letting his statement sink in. I was first to begin laughing, holding my side, and the ladies quickly joined in…nothing like a bit of levity to begin the day.
“Since you brought that up you get the dishes,” Julia said to Dave.
“I’ll dry,” I added. “Come on brother let’s get the kitchen cleaned up. We topped off everyone’s mug, made another pot and started on the dishes.
Ruth and Julia went back to cleaning guns. Strange, men are washing the dishes and women are cleaning the guns. Way too much changing in the ‘new world’. We finished the dishes about the time the ladies finished with the weapons and reload.
Time to take care of those Zs in the back and do fence repair. I stood and got one of the squirt guns with salt water and Julia did the same. The two of us would use those with Dave and Ruth covering with shotguns. Julia had seen at least six of the things, so we knew we needed to be careful.
Dave went to the back door of the kitchen and waited for the rest of us to get ready. He slowly opened the door and I stepped out with the salt water-filled squirter. I swung the barrel left then right looking for targets. Julia stepped out to my right, so I concentrated on the left and front.
I saw two near the garage corner, raised my right hand for one of the weapon carriers to follow and slowly moved out to soak them down. As Ruth and I neared, the two creatures turned, hearing something from one of us, and began with that sound they make and gnashing their teeth. I let them get to within fifteen feet and cut loose with a stream on the closest one. It immediately began thrashing about and fell. The second still advanced and I gave it a squirt, hitting it in the eyes. It immediately went down, thrashing about. It still reminded me of the old ‘stop-drop-n roll’ from the old fire drills in school.
Julia took out three more on the south side of the house garnering the same results as I. The four of us searched until we found the sixth, which wound up out near the bus stop shack. I hosed it with a good stream, and it dropped after a moment of panicked thrashing.
We searched the grounds and concentrated on the fence line, finding two openings on the southeast side of the property in the trees that were not accidental – they had been cut with wire or bolt cutters. Ruth and Dave readied their weapons. I drew my nine as did Julia.
As we stood there contemplating the realization that someone had deliberately cut the fence, two more Zs approached, which Julia quickly dispatched as they got into range. Eight Zs down and not a shot fired! This was a good thing.
Dave gave a signal for us to return to the house. Once inside, Dave and I poured ourselves another mug of coffee, went out the back and sat on some Adirondacks on the back porch to discuss the fence. Julia and Ruth filled their mugs and joined us.
This time of the morning was my favorite. The sunup not hot yet, little to no wind, birds singing…and no Zs. The four of us sat together quietly enjoying the company, view, and warmth. After some time enjoying the moment, Dave and I decided we would get some work clothes on and not only repair the fence but run the entire line and check it for other openings or weakened areas. We would not be able to answer the uppermost question on our minds – who cut the fence?
A month later found the four of us preparing for winter. The previous one had been one for the books as we had very deep snowfalls on three occasions, one of which was over fifty inches. We would need to cut, split and stack at least ten cords of wood, five for each homestead. That would be good enough for a winter. We only use the furnaces now if absolutely necessary because of fuel limitations.
Dave and I would butcher two of our cattle and two of the pigs so each homestead would have an ample supply of meat. Julia and Ruth would harvest our gardens in the next couple of weeks, thus providing enough vegetables, potatoes, corn, and apples to last through those cold months. Both homesteads had root cellars that rarely got above forty-five degrees Fahrenheit, for food storage.
Once a week, Dave and I would take a ride in one of the ATVs around what we called the block. The loop went around the vall
ey we lived in. It went from the road in front of my place up to Centennial, across Highway 130 to Highway 11, then back to the road in front of my place, a trip of about twenty-five miles.
We were on one such outing on a clear fall day. I was driving, as my rib had improved significantly, and Sam was sitting in the middle between Dave and me. We came to the long straight away on 130, when way off in the distance, Dave pointing said, “Pull up, Doug, there’s a vehicle way up there on the hill.” I stopped the ATV and we both got our binoculars out and looked. Sure enough, there was a black hummer off in the distance about seven miles away.
“Good eyes, dude,” I complimented. “How in the world did you see that thing that far away?”
“I looked up at the hill and there was a black dot not normally there,” Dave answered. “That meant something new.”
“Wonder who they are and what they’re doing?” I pondered.
“Pull up to the bridge and we’ll get out and scope them out and see,” Dave said.
We drove up to the bridge that crossed the river and parked the ATV in the shade of some trees. Dave and Sam got out of the ATV, Sam heading to the river and Dave standing in the shade, looking at the strange sight in the distance through his binos.
“I can see one guy and he’s looking through binos, kinda looking towards the south I think,” Dave said.
I got out, looked, and agreed with him. Again, I wondered aloud what they were doing.
“Recon I bet,” Dave answered. “Wonder why and I wonder why he’s not driving down the hill,” he said looking at me.
“No clue, brother…hey, look; another guy just got out,” I said excitedly. “Two of them and the second guy is looking this way with binos it looks like. You think we should get under some cover?”
“No, look at how small they are in the sunlight. We’re in the shade so much harder to see. I doubt if they even know we exist.”
“Well maybe their looking to find out. I wonder where they came from and what they want?”
“We may never know. I for one don’t want to get to close to ‘em and find out they’re out for trouble or something. If they’re okay people, they’ll come down and be nice about it. Woops, there they go getting back in the hummer.”
We watched as they turned around in the road and headed back towards Laramie on Highway 130. We kept our eyes on them until they were out of sight. Dave turned back to the ATV, so I did, too. As I got in, I looked at him and he had his ‘cop’ look going. He was running all the ‘what ifs’ through his mind.
“Uh oh, I know that look,” I said.
He looked at me with a half-smile and said, “What?
“You have your cop face on; what are you thinking?”
“A lot of unanswerable questions going through my mind, that’s all. My cop sense is going off and I have an uncomfortable feeling about what we just saw.”
“You and me both, brother, come on, let’s get back to your place and tell the ladies we might be having someone for dinner some evening.” I started the ATV and we continued our patrol around the valley.
Back at Dave’s and while refueling the ATV we told the girls what we’d seen. They had a ton of questions, most of which we had no answers for. Julia was the suspicious one and said, “I bet they were with the doc. I bet they’re watching us for some reason. I knew that guy was no good.”
“Julia, be nice,” Dave said to her. “They may just be passing through and stopped to look at the pretty valley. The aspens are beginning to turn up on the high ridges so from the hill I bet it’s a pretty sight.”
She shook her head, saying, “Nope, I bet they were doing a recon for the doc. Maybe they’re the ones who cut our fence.”
When she said ‘recon’, Dave and I looked at each other. Ruth caught that and said, “What? You two just gave a look at each other; what was that for?”
“We said the same thing out there looking at them,” I said. “Just the ‘recon’ part, not the fence or doc parts but, if they are doing a recon, that just might fit; them being from the doc that is.”
“Let’s get the police band up and running again,” Dave said. “If we see them or anyone else, report it to everyone so we can get battle rattled and ready. We may want to place extra ammo, grenades and weapons out just in case.”
“I vote we cut trees tomorrow,” I said. “We can go to the upper ridge above Centennial, taking that dirt road next to the ranger station and cut up high. That way we can keep an eye on 130 while we work. We’ll take two trucks fully loaded out, the two big trailers and load ‘em up, bring ‘em back and cut and split at the home sites. How’s that sound with everyone?”
Nods of agreement from the three of us. We agreed to meet in Centennial at seven o’clock the next morning and make a workday out of it. We finished preparing the ATV and went back inside the Malone home. After Dave and I discussed equipment and weapons for the next day, and Ruth and Julia talked about food, coffee, and water to bring, Ruth and I said our goodbyes and we went home to prepare for the next day’s labor.
I hooked the trailer up to the Ghost without too much trouble or pain, and got the truck itself loaded with guns, ammo, grenades, extra fuel, the chain saws and axes, chain for hauling, hard hats, and earmuffs. Heavy gloves went in along with jackets, as it would probably be cool tomorrow.
Ruth prepared food, water, and snacks for us. She laid out clothing so that we could dress in layers. She put two suppressed nine millimeters along with fourteen loaded mags on the table. Knowing that I’d already put rifles, ammo, and grenades in the truck, she added two shotguns and two belts of extra buckshot shells.
I was on my way to the house when I stopped mid-stride and thought to myself, I’m going to put one of those fifties in the truck, too. If the guys in the hummer wanted to play, then we would play for keeps. The fifty would kill the hummer and probably anyone inside of it, too. It would come in handy in a pinch so from the armory I picked one of the big rifles and filled an ammo box with fifty extra rounds for the thing.
The next morning did indeed bring a coolness that bordered on being cold. The foursome met in Centennial. Dave and Julia had decided to bring their ATV so we would be able to use the winch to haul logs to the trailers. She led the way up the mountain, turned left near the ranger’s station and continued upward. Ruth, Sam, and I followed.
We reached the peak overlooking Centennial and located a hurst, of mostly standing-dead trees. We would have a clear view of the valley below, including the far hill on 130, and the trees would amount to more than the ten cords we needed to cut.
We stood together and said a prayer asking God to protect us this day and to allow us to get home safely. After the Amens, we discussed the strategy of felling the trees. Julia said one of us should keep watch while the other three cut and dragged wood. Since we would be making an enormous amount of noise with the chainsaws and trees going down, we decided that was a sensible decision.
For some levity, we used rock-paper-scissors to decide who would stand watch for the first hour. I lost. Never could win anything like that. I got my binos and M4 out of the truck and while the three got busy, preparing the saws and things, I opened the passenger door to the truck and sat, enjoying a mug of coffee, interspaced with looking through the binos at the valley below. I watched for Zs all around the wood cutting area also.
The first hour went by quickly actually. Dave was felling trees then Ruth and Julia would get a chain on it, clamp on with the winch hook and drag it to one of the trailers. They would position the log behind the trailer, unhook it then go around to the front of the trailer and running out the winch, haul it onto the trailer bed. They used a peavey to move, pry, and push the logs into place. Their system was working well.
I waved at Ruth to come relieve me. We kissed and I went over to spell Dave, taking a fresh chainsaw with me. He would refill his saw with fuel and chain lube then assist Julia. We really had the system going and I began felling trees. We decided on trees that were ten to t
welve inches in diameter. The first one I dropped went perfectly and I trimmed the branches from it. We had also decided to cut the logs into eight-foot lengths. This would make for better handling with the ATV and loading on the trailers.
This was busy work. If not for the ATV and winch, it would have taken us two to three days to complete the project. The winch and the ATV were a lifesaver and gifts from God. They made the job so much easier. The only real work was Dave and I having to lift a cord of logs into the beds of the trucks. The trailers would hold four cords easily, but a fifth would be stretching not only the capability of the trailer but make the load so top heavy as to be a danger going down the mountain.
Lunchtime came and we took a well-deserved break. We had sandwiches, carrot spears, apples and for a treat, I’d made cookies. We would have water with it and sit in a nice spot overlooking the valley. It had been a beautiful morning and warmed up nicely. We could see for miles and miles. Sheep Mountain looked majestic, as usual, more than eight miles distant. We could almost see Dave and Julia’s place but for the trees. We could see the curve in Highway 11 and it too, was over eight miles distant. The valley was an awe-inspiring view to say the least.
After eating, Ruth and I lay back on the blanket and rested. Julia and Dave watched. We had the ATV parked, overlooking the valley next to us to the south. The trucks and trailers were down the hill facing to the north. Dave’s trailer and truck almost had the five cords they would need. My truck had about a fourth of a cord in the bed and nothing on the trailer yet. I rolled over and looked at the loads.
Ruth asked, “What’s wrong?” putting her hand on my back.
“Nothing,” I answered. “Its such a beautiful day for work like this, being outdoors, breathing in the fresh mountain air, hearing the birds…it’s why I chose to live in this valley. The exact reason – to be outdoors as much as possible and enjoy the place God gifted to us to live on. I may be getting nostalgic, but I just thi…”
I'm Tired of Zombies | Book 2 | Full Scale War Page 7