by R Kralik
Josie will receive click codes if the North Korean's begin to break camp and move. They have vehicles, large and small. That means they could possibly arrive here within 40 to 45 minutes of leaving camp if they follow the speed limit signs (snort).
Josie calls them “NK’s,” so that’s what I’ll call them.
We are warned to expect scouts in the area by this afternoon and most definitely, tonight. We may see them, and we may not. My guess is that we won't see them at all but they'll see us. They'll see our fence, and our guard towers, and the fence around the onion field. Oh, I have no doubt, we'll be discovered.
Will the scouts be in vehicles, or on foot? We don't know, but Josie and Ian say they could be utilizing both methods. We have no idea how many scouts will be roving the area, looking for enemies.
This means that we need to have everything inside the tunnel rooms, including ourselves, as fast as we can and pray that the scouts are not already here, which Josie says is possible.
We don't want them to see us moving supplies to the tunnels but we have to take the chance and move everything we can before lunch.
TWO FREAKIN' THOUSAND NK'S! We're in big time danger.
Josie's sending out click codes for more information as fast as her clicker can click. She's also sending out codes to her contact with Chris. We'll have the radios inside the tunnel, but we haven't tested them yet for a signal. I pray they work and I pray we can tape one to Josie's ear to keep the volume way down.
I'm freaking out that her transmissions are being picked up by the NK's, even though she's using unusual channels to send them.
Ian was ticked off when he found out about the cave, but he said he didn't have time to talk about it and he'd discuss it with us later if we live through this.
A thought occurred to me and I asked Ian if the NK's might check the entire hillside with metal detectors, looking for buried bombs or mines. He said he doubts it, but anything's possible. He also said that, if they use metal detectors, he'd expect them to check the front of the hillside and around the buildings instead of the overgrown area where the tunnel enters the hillside.
There's about 25 metal shelves with a whole bunch of ammo down there. If the NK's use metal detectors, I pray their batteries are dead. I pray that the shelving and ammo is too deep in the ground for any metal detector to pick up a signal. I have no metal detector experience and neither does anyone here. Can't you tell?
The goats are already inside the second tunnel room and I've sent Deuce, Luke, and Larson to gather the chickens and take them there. They'll get along fine with the goats.
The horses, pigs, and cattle will remain outside. There's not enough room for them all inside that second tunnel room, and if they started fighting they could ram into the walls and possibly weaken them enough to collapse. I'm pretty sure a squealing, neighing, baaing, mooing, clucking animal fight could easily be heard from the surface. We have no choice but to leave the larger animals outside.
The decision to stay in the tunnel room or head for Beggar cave was debated over breakfast. We all agreed that it would be safer to stay in the tunnel room because the cave is also in the line of expected movement and, well, you can't hide a cave as big as that one unless you weave plants into ropes and grow some sort of covering to blend the entire entrance into the mountainside. The entrance is pretty well hidden by all the greenery, brush, and trees that have grown tall over the years, but someone with military instinct and eyes trained to scout will find the cave, especially now that our vehicles have traveled there and flattened the grass.
We simply cannot defend the cave entrance against 2,000 troops. We could take along two of the “Ma Deuce” badazz guns but we don't have time to remove them and take them to the cave. Ian doesn't believe we have 2000 rounds of ammo left for them, anyway. The cave will serve better as a place to shelter in case Kapper Hill is destroyed.
Our best chance of survival is to hide.
We have three weeks of food and water inside the tunnel room. We have guns and ammo as well as knives and grenades.
We have blankets and quilts to sleep on.
We can build a fire for cooking because there are ventilation holes. We will use hardwood for the least amount of smoke possible.
We can also use the propane grill since the cave is ventilated. How will we disguise the smell of fire and food cooking? I don't know the answer to that. We can only pray that the troops search the compound and leave instead of camping out. Surely they won't camp only 25 miles from their previous location. Surely they'd want to travel farther than that. Oh Lord, please let their goal be 100 miles or more from here.
Ian is outside the compound. He's wearing some kind of super wham-a-dine camo suit he made himself from vines, leaves, and twigs. He called it a “Ghillie suit.” I don't know where he is, but I do know that he's scouting for scouts.
I don't know what to do, but I feel I'm wasting valuable time on this stupid computer.
See ya later.
1:00 PM...
Josie has received word that the North Korean's are breaking camp and preparing to move.
This will be my last entry before I head to the tunnel room. There's no generator there. It would make too much noise.
I killed a person. A real, living, bad person.
He had my pregnant daughter by the hair and was trying to pull her up and over the log fence. He didn't look Asian, but he did speak an Asian language. I wouldn't know the difference between Chinese and North Korean if it was pounded in my head by the world's number one brain-washing machine. I intend to get those little language books from the library, if we live.
Right now, I'm numb.
I came in here to write out what happened before I head to the tunnel. Most everyone is already there.
Dane's in the living room waiting for me to finish writing, and Velma has Kenny's aid in packing up the last of the supplies from the clinic. Josie and Ian are finishing up with the radio building and packing their last load to take to the tunnel room.
I feel the need to write this down in case I'm dead when Mick gets here. Maybe he'll find the computer and be able to read my last entry.
We were all carrying supplies to the tunnels when Marisa decided she'd forgotten something from her house. I decided to go with her.
All of us were wearing our guns and blades. We're so accustomed to having them on our bodies that we feel naked without them.
Marisa and I were on the second floor in the kid’s bedroom when I noticed a lone chicken wandering in the meadow near the fence. The top floor windows aren't boarded, so I could clearly see the little hen.
Marisa agreed to run out there and grab it while I finished packing toys and games to keep Amber and Michael occupied while we're stuck inside the tunnel room. The golf cart was beside the log fence and the chicken was jumping around, inside, and on top of it.
Suddenly, I heard her scream, and it was the scream of my child in fear for her life. I felt my blood boiling and bubbling in my veins as I ran down the steps and out the back door.
By the time I arrived, a tall, blonde man had Marisa on top of the golf cart and was trying to climb over the fence, pulling her by her hair. She was fighting like a crazy woman.
She has hair down to her waist and usually wears it in a low ponytail. The man had a tight grip on that ponytail and he had one leg over the top of the fence as Marisa struggled and caused him to move carefully to avoid losing his balance.
Then, I realized I'd left Marley on Amber's bed when I heard my child scream. I pulled my Glock, fired toward his head, and missed. I needed to get closer.
As I ran toward them, I noticed Marisa's belt with her holster, Glock, and knife lying on the ground beside the golf cart. I saw the frazzled edge where the belt had been cut from her waist.
Marisa had her hands over her head and was clawing at his hands while he continued to pull her closer to the top of the fence.
I screamed at him to let her go or I'd blow his brains out.
He screamed something in a foreign language back at me.
He continued to try and pull Marisa over the fence and he was succeeding a few inches at a time. Barbed wire was cutting into her skin and I saw a trickle of blood run down her upper arm and disappear inside her shirt.
I was finally close enough to be confident I could blow his brains out. I raised the Glock as he pulled his neck down to his body like a turtle pulls its head into the shell. It didn't matter, because the Glock jammed.
I felt something primal rise inside me and pulled the K-bar knife off my belt. I knew right then and there he was NOT going to pull my child over that fence.
I ran to the golf cart and stood on the edge of the floorboard and jammed the knife into his calf twice.
He let go of Marisa and she slid to the ground.
He lost his balance and fell to the ground beside the golf cart, grabbing his calf as he fell. He landed hard on the ground, screaming in pain.
I don't know what Marisa was doing when I threw myself upon him. I stabbed him in the heart, the belly, and the face. I twisted the knife in his gut like I'd seen on TV shows. I stabbed his arms and his neck until he was unconscious and obviously dead, but I didn't stop.
I stabbed him through both eye sockets and began to cut his head from his neck. Marisa had to physically pull me off him by grabbing my ankles and dragging me backwards.
It took several seconds before I realized where I was and what I'd done, and I didn't care. I stood and looked at Marisa to make sure she was okay. She said she's never seen true rage until she looked in my eyes.
I can't remember every move I made or how many times I stabbed the man. I can barely remember stabbing him in the calf, hoping that he'd let go of my precious child.
I lifted Marisa's shirt and checked her for wounds. I lifted her pants legs and did the same. She has several cuts from the barbed wire woven into the log fence but, other than that, she's fine.
She had to help me back to my house like a boy scout helps a little old lady crossing the street, encouraging me with every step.
When we reached the back porch, I noticed that I was covered in his blood from head to toe.
I didn't care who was watching. I removed every piece of clothing I was wearing and flung it to the ground. I asked Marisa for the bucket of water from the kitchen and she brought it out to the porch. I poured cold water over my head and it ran down my body.
She dipped another bucket of water from the blue barrel beside the porch and carefully washed the man's blood from my hair with a bar of soap.
She used a wash cloth and began washing my face. I took the cloth from her hand and washed my entire body using close to half a bar of soap before I was satisfied. Marisa wanted to run back to the house to retrieve Marley but I was afraid to let her go. I was afraid there might be another man out there, waiting for her.
When I was clean, I looked up and saw Marisa standing on the porch with a set of clean clothes. I got dressed and then held her in the tightest hug possible. I asked her if she was really okay about ten times and then sent her to the tunnel.
Dane was walking from the outhouse and saw us on the porch. We told him what happened and he said the man was probably working with the NK's as a scout, and that Marisa and I were lucky to be alive I asked him to stay on the porch while I came in to write on this stupid computer and get it packed up to take with me to the tunnel room.
The man's death isn't bothering me a bit, and that scares me more than anything. I'm ready to head to the tunnel now.
Mick,
If you're reading this, I'm probably dead or captured by North Koreans.
Please know that you are the most sensitive, loving, tender and truly good man I've ever known. The way you touch me both physically and emotionally compares to no one else in my past.
Your strength and unselfish ability to commit to doing the right thing amazes me.
I've never felt as loved as I do when you look into my eyes. I want to thank you for making me the happiest woman in the world and making my life glorious and happy.
Continue to love our children as you always have. Protect them from the evil that threatens every moment of their lives in this horrible, unfair world. Hold them when they need holding. Advise them when they need advice. Encourage them when they need encouragement. Love them always.
Love our grandchildren and build a safe and happy place for them to raise children and grandchildren of their own and know how precious they were to me.
I'm not saying goodbye Mick. I'll see you later in heaven.
You are my one true love and I'll be with you with every step you take if the good Lord permits, and I'm sure he won't deny such a request because he is merciful and giving.
See ya later baby. Big Smooch,
Robin
Sunday, May 11
Three days later...
We're finally out of the tunnel. We were rescued by a very sexy man in a military uniform. His name is Mick Kapper. I was pretty sure our tunnel room had left earth and arrived in heaven.
Anyway, we spent three days in that tunnel room. The only time I enjoyed it was at night when all the candles and lanterns were out and everyone was asleep.
I had finished writing and packing up my computer when Dane and I heard trucks from a distance. We scurried as fast as we could toward the tunnel and jumped inside. Dane lowered the door and checked around the edges to make sure they were covered and none of the leaves or debris camouflage had become stuck in the door causing a seam to appear on the outside.
We walked to the tunnel room and announced that the North Koreans had arrived. I heard several gasps but other than that, there was nothing but silence.
Several minutes went by before the goats began calling for their afternoon feeding.
We panicked, and ran in there to give it to them as fast as we could. They ate, pooped, and lay down for their afternoon nap. We spent an hour sweeping up goat berries from the floor and pouring them into plastic bags. Goats poop more than I thought, and I've had goats for nine years. I swear, they're poop machines.
Anyway, the humor of the goat poop cleanup somewhat relaxed the crowd and we began to talk in low voices and whispers.
Marisa chose a spot for Amber and Michael to sit and play.
They entertained themselves until their tummies began calling for supper. We still hadn't heard a sound from outside and decided to heat a large pot of hamburger soup for supper. We used the propane grill and it took an hour for the soup to fully heat up.
Jason was standing watch at the tunnel door and told us he heard voices speaking Chinese “or something” outside. Now, Jason wouldn't know Chinese from Japanese or either one from North Korean himself, so he calls all Asian languages “Chinese.”
The entire room went into silent mode immediately. We were afraid to continue eating in case our silverware dinged on the side of the bowl. Marisa carefully dipped out spoonfuls for Amber and Michael and fed them herself. Ten minutes later we were all dipping spoonfuls as quietly as possible and were able to finish supper.
We dipped out a bucket of water from one of the horse troughs and washed the dishes as quietly as we could. It took twice as long as it usually does. I told everyone to use paper plates, bowls, and napkins as much as possible to reduce the numbers of dishes that needed washing in order to conserve our water.
We unfolded quilts and blankets and laid them out so we'd be ready for bed as soon as dark came. We were afraid to keep the room lit after dark in case the light escaped through the ventilation ducts.
Everyone was full, dishes were clean, pallets were made, the animals were taken care of, and dark came sooner than expected.
We blew out the candles, turned off the lanterns, and were submerged in darkness.
Small noises came from people adjusting their pillows and blankets. It wasn't long before peaceful, even breathing sounds came from every direction. Mostly, the young folks slept well. The older folks tossed and turned, tried to muffle
coughs and sneezes, and tried to force themselves to sleep.
Most of the night, I thought about the man I'd killed. I wondered if he had a wife and kids. I wondered where he came from and how he got to be in the position he was in. I cried for his soul and asked God to show him mercy even though I knew he was one of the bad guys.
I killed him, and he never got the chance to repent and become a good person, but I'd do it all over again if presented with the same situation. I hope God understands, but it doesn't make it any easier to accept.
I'd just closed my eyes when Ian came to tell us the sun was up. I crawled out from underneath the cover and discovered the room was a little chilly. I was comfortable, but several folks complained and since one of them was Elaine, Dane decided to build a small fire to heat the room a little.
Emma and Elaine cooked cheese omelets over the fire in order to conserve the propane hooked up to the grill. So, I guess you could say the fire provided two services that morning.
An hour later, one of the potty buckets was full and we were faced with a dilemma. We could have taken it to the second tunnel room if the animals weren't there. Dane decided to wait until a second bucket was full, and then try to sneak out and dump them in a swampy area several yards from the tunnel entrance.
It was an hour after lunch when the second bucket became full. The buckets of waste stunk to high heaven in the enclosed space. Ian, Dane, and Jason actually drew straws to see who'd get the honor of taking the buckets outside. Ian drew the short straw and threw on his Ghillie suit to prepare for potty bucket dumping.
He was just about to crack the tunnel door when we heard voices. They sounded like they were coming through the ceiling. Heck, they almost sounded like they were in the room with us. We all froze in our tracks.
Ian left the buckets near the tunnel entrance and quietly came back inside the tunnel room. He whispered to all of us to turn off the lanterns and blow out the candles. We did as we were told, and listened to men speaking a foreign language, laughing and talking on the hill directly above our heads. It was surreal. I just knew one of them would find a ventilation duct and figure out we were inside.