I advised them, “We saw a horde of people a few days ago heading south. There was about a thousand of them. What’s going on? Why are all you people moving south?”
“We’re headed south because of global cooling and the Arctic Vortex.” Daniel said.
“Yeah, we heard about the cooling, but we don’t know much about it.”
“Well, July and August are usually the hottest months. A week ago we had snow. So we’re getting out of there while we can. It’s going to be a really bad winter.”
Sam butted in, “There isn’t gonna be any food. All the crops were ruined by the freeze.”
I looked at them sweating in the bright sun and said, “Let’s sit over there in the shade.”
As we walked by the Humvee Sam ran his hand over the hood and said, “This is a weapon we could use in our convoy.” He stood there gazing at the machine gun.
We moved under the tree, out of sight of his men, behind our trucks and sat down. Adolf heeled and sat next to me.
“Are you guys in the Army?”
“No, we’re not the Army.”
I looked around and noted that Tommy and Mike kept watch on the group across the highway from the gun turrets.
Daniel commented, “If you’re not in the Army where’d you get all the gear and automatic weapons from?”
I replied, “From friends in the Army.” That’s all I wanted to tell them.
“Where are your Army friends?”
“That’s classified information.”
“Ok, fair enough. Can you tell us what’s between here and Tampa?” Sam inquired, as he gazed at my weapons and Black Bear knife.
“Not much, just a few Free Roamers here and there.”
“That’s a hell of a good looking knife on your vest. Can I see it?” Sam said.
“No one touches my knife.”
He nodded his head. “I know how you feel. I like knives, too.” I noticed there was a big Gerber Bowie hanging on his belt.
Just then Maggie and Lisa came over to the tree and sat down next to me. Sam asked, “Are these your daughters?”
It wasn’t any of his business who they were and I resented his question. Maggie sitting Indian style, holding her M4 between her crossed legs, replied, “No, we’re his women. Why do you wanna know?”
“Just curious, that’s all. You’re good looking women wearing some pretty fancy uniforms. Do you know how to use those guns?”
In a sarcastic tone Lisa responded, “Do you wanna find out?”
Daniel jumped in the conversation. “Sam didn’t mean anything. It’s just that you don’t see good looking women dressed in combat gear every day.”
The two men were just about drooling while gawking at the girls. They were beautiful and cute, sitting there holding big guns, with their hair up in pig tails. They didn’t look dangerous, but these guys had no idea.
I asked in a firm tone, “Ok, what do you really want?”
“Well, we could use some fuel and food supplies. Why don’t we go hunting with you?”
“Sorry, we can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Sam asked, glaring at the girls like a hungry wolf.
I looked at Sam and then at Daniel. “It’s our hunting grounds, that’s why.”
I thought these guys were up to no good. They didn’t want food. They wanted our guns and women. After talking to someone for a few minutes I can smell if their good or bad. My sixth sense was telling me … Danger.
“Ok, then just help us out and tell us where we can get some food, guns, and ammo around here,” Sam said.
Maggie leaned in towards him. “We can’t tell you shit, Mister. We don’t know who the hell you are.”
“We’re just people trying to get along,” Daniel replied.
“No need to get your panties in a knot,” Sam said. “Jack, what do you think?”
I petted Adolf and stood up. Adolf stood up at the same time. “I think we’ve wasted enough time talking.”
Sam looked up at me and replied, “Now hold on there, we don’t mean you any harm. There’s no need to be afraid of us just because we out number you. I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll pay you in gold for your Hummers’ and some extra for the women. You can keep the pick-up truck.”
I responded, “First of all, we’re not afraid of you, asshole. The second thing is, you can’t buy our women.” He made a big mistake offering to buy the girls. Now I knew he was a dirt-bag for sure.
Sam stood up and put his hand on his Bowie knife. Adolf let out a low growl, warning him to watch his step. Maggie and Lisa stood up with their guns in low ready position. Daniel stood up with a disappointed look on his face and threw his hands in the air in disgust.
Sam spoke up. “You know what I think? I think you don’t have any other people. You and your family are just trying to survive like we are. Why don’t you join us and share what you have. A big group like ours is safer for the women.”
I quickly racked a round into my M4 and flipped off the safety. “Talking is over now.”
Sam and Daniel both looked at me. I saw Sam starting to reach behind his back. I pointed my M4 at him and said, “You’ll be dead before you get that gun out.”
Sam replied, “All I gotta do is yell for help and my men will gun you down.”
“You stupid piece of shit, you do that and you’re dead. I won’t hesitate to kill you both. Put your hands up!”
“I don’t think you have the guts to do that.”
Maggie laughed. “Don’t bet your life on that.” She rammed her gun barrel into his fat belly knocking the wind out of him. “Jack, let me kill him.”
I said, “Maggie get their guns. Then zip-tie their hands behind their backs and do their feet also. Gag these guys so they can’t yell.”
Maggie pulled the guns out of their belts. “Hey, look at these little pea shooters.” Both had little derringers which made Maggie and Lisa laugh.
Lisa said, “Cute little pop guns. We’re keeping these.”
Sam protested, “Hey, come on now!”
I bashed him in the face with the barrel of my gun. Blood flowed out of the corner of his mouth as he fell to the ground. Adolf grabbed hold of Sam’s leg. I had to pull him off. I reached down and took Sam’s Bowie. Daniel didn’t move a muscle. I could tell he was scared.
Lisa and Maggie zip-tied them up and stuffed rags in their mouths. They knocked Daniel to the ground. He grunted as his face smashed into the dirt.
Maggie said, “I’ll slice one of their Achilles so they can’t walk away.”
I replied, “Go ahead.”
The dorks were whining like little babies as Maggie pulled out her machete. Maggie yelled, “Stop crying you little bitches! Don’t move or I could slip and cut off your foot.” She sliced the tendons like a trained surgeon. The gag reduced their screams to a muffled cry of pain.
With wide eyes they watched me take a hand grenade out. I told Lisa, “Go to the truck and get some fishing line.”
I tied the monofilament line to the pin and then tied the other end to Sam’s belt. I carefully placed the grenade underneath Daniel leaving about ten inches of slack. I covered the line with dirt.
I guessed Sam’s men would pick him up first since he was the boss. I left a little booby trap for his men. I figured that when his men come running over and help him up … KABOOM.
I warned them, “Don’t move a muscle or this will blow you to shit.”
Lisa giggled and said, “Great idea, Jack.”
I told my crew to mount up and we roared out with the pedals to the metal. My crew machine gunned the convoy of trucks, as much as possible, while we drove away at a high rate of speed.
Have you ever seen what a 50 caliber machine gun can do? Our two guns blew the shit out of the convoy in a few minutes. The men in the convoy didn’t know what hit them as they all scampered for cover. They never had a chance to return fire.
I can only imagine what happen to Sam and Daniel. The poor bastards learned a lesson
the hard way. It really pissed me off that they tried to buy Maggie and Lisa. I know if the dorks had the chance, they would have killed us. They bit off more than they could chew.
We continued down I-75 and observed a few cars along the way that were burning on the side of the road. Next to the cars were dead bodies which told me that Sam’s convoy was most likely responsible for those dirty deeds. We didn’t stop because it was too dangerous.
We arrived at the Bushnell exit. Our group would follow Route 48 west for about 10 miles to Trails End Road. Trails End Road is where Ron’s cabin was located. It was deep in the woods at the end of the trail, just like the name says. There’s three ways to get there. One is by truck, another is by boat from the river, and the third is through the swamp on foot.
The cabin is located on a dry patch of land in the middle of the swamp. On the west side is a river that runs all the way to the Gulf of Mexico. The only road in is Trails End.
I never liked the name Trails End Road. It reminded me of an old western movie where the cowboy’s buddy is shot and dying. With his last breath he says, ‘It’s the End of the Trail for me partner.’
No one hikes through the swamp which is infested with bears, snakes, gators, Florida panthers, and who knows what else. The area is pretty secure from outsiders. There are a few people that live back there. Ron calls them good old boys. He knows them all because he lived there for years until the collapse.
After traveling about three miles down Trails End Road, we spotted a couple of wild cattle and a few turkeys. We pulled over to the side of the road and jumped out. The animals didn’t even notice our presence.
Carlos asked, “Ron, can we shoot those?”
“Yeah, I don’t see why not. No one lives here anymore.”
Carlos grabbed his shotgun and Tommy picked up his 308. Tommy told Carlos, “I’ll pick off the cows from here.” They were about 300 yards away.
Carlos replied, “I’ll get the turkeys.” Carlos trekked out across the open field after the wild turkeys.
The closer Carlos got to the turkeys they would keep moving away from him. We all started to laugh. The turkeys were smart enough to keep a safe distance from Carlos.
Tommy said, “I’m gonna shoot these cows before they move too far away.”
Tommy directed Johnny to watch him set up the gun for the kill. It was an easy shot for him. He folded down his bipod, placed it on the hood of the truck, and took aim explaining everything he was doing to his son.
The 308 thundered out and echoed across the field. With two shots he had two kills. The cattle just stood there as each one fell to the ground. They didn’t run or even look around.
We all turned to see what Carlos was up to. He was out of sight. Rick said, “I’ll go find him.” He jumped into the F-350 and drove out in the field.
I got on the radio. “Carlos, come in.”
Rick answered, “Carlos left his radio in the truck.”
“That dumb shit.”
“Yeah, he’s headed for the woods. I’ll try to catch him before he gets there. The problem is I can’t go too fast because there’s so many big ruts and holes.”
“Take it easy and don’t break an axle. We need that truck to haul back the meat,” I advised.
“I can see him. He’s running into the swamp after those damn turkeys.” I heard Rick beeping the truck horn over the radio.
I looked at Tommy and said, “Carlos is chasing the damn turkeys into the woods.”
“The fool should just let them go. We’ll see more of them. We need to load up the cattle before some coyotes come along,” Tommy said.
“Go ahead over there and watch them. Take Maggie and Lisa with you. We’ll go search for Carlos.”
Damn it anyhow, something always happens. People need to use their brains. We’re in dangerous territory and don’t know what or who is out there.
Mike, Ron, and I along with Adolf headed off to the swampy woods to find Carlos. It was a good half mile away. Rick was right; the field was full of big ruts probably caused by wild pigs. Even in the Hummer it was a slow bumpy ride. I could almost walk faster.
Pulling up next to Rick on the edge of the swamp, I asked, “Which way did he go?”
Rick said, “I’m not sure. He went in the woods right here,” pointing to a path directly in front of his truck.
We stood there peering into the thickly wooded swamp. Even though it was daylight, the swamp with its big Spanish Moss covered trees was dark, very dark. It was a foreboding force that wasn’t inviting. It looked dangerous and I knew it was. I, for one, didn’t want to enter the darkness.
Spanish moss is a plant that grows on larger trees. It is commonly found on Oak or Cypress trees in the southeastern United States. It grows as silvery-green festoons hanging down from the tree branches.
I suggested that Rick take his truck and help Tommy field dress the cattle and load them up while we search for Carlos.
Field dressing is the process of removing the internal organs which is necessary to preserve the meat. It must be done as soon as possible to prevent bacteria from growing on the surface of the carcass.
Mike asked, “Are we going in after him?”
I replied, “Shit, we don’t even know which way he went.”
“Use the dog and track him,” Ron said.
“No, I don’t wanna use the dog because I don’t know what he’ll do. Let’s fire off a round or two so Carlos can hear us.”
“Ok,” Mike said.
Mike fired two rounds into the air. A minute or two later we heard two rounds definitely fired from a shotgun. We replied with two more. Then we heard five rounds which sounded somewhat closer, but it was hard to tell.
I fired two more rounds. I heard a faint voice yelling. It was Carlos. I yelled back, “Carlos over here!” Adolf was barking while we all were yelling. It was almost like Adolf was trying to help us. His bark was a lot louder than our yells.
Mike shouted, “This way Carlos!” He fired two more rounds in the air.
I raised my M4 and looked into the dark swamp with my night scope. I scanned for a heat signature. “I see him. He’s coming this way.”
I kept watching him to make sure he was heading in the right direction. It’s easy to get lost in the swamp. As I watched, he would disappear every now and then behind a tree or bush. Mike fired two more rounds.
I said, “What the hell?”
Mike asked, “What?” He also raised his scope to look.
“Someone’s chasing Carlos. They’re right behind him.”
Ron said, “Maybe they’re good old boys or swamp people.”
Mike replied, “I don’t see anyone.”
I didn’t answer him as I watched two men flank Carlos. One grabbed his arm. They didn’t look like normal men. They were very large compared to Carlos who stood almost six foot tall.
I saw a muzzle flash and … heard the shot. One of the big men fell, letting Carlos go. I estimated he was about 100 yards away. I said, “Mike, look about 100 yards straight into the woods.”
I flicked off my safety and took aim at a guy right behind Carlos. I couldn’t fire because Carlos was in the way. Carlos tripped and fell giving me an open shot. I fired and the big man stopped. I watched him sit down and counted five other heat signatures come to his aid.
Carlos came stumbling out of the swamp out of breath. Ron helped him up as he fell to the ground. Carlos yelled, “Let’s get the hell … out of here!”
Climbing into the Hummer I asked, “Who are those guys?”
Adolf was peering into the dark woods barking and growling at whatever was there. I had to grab him by the collar and forced him into the back of the Hummer.
Staring at the woods with wide open eyes Carlos yelled, “Come on. Move it! They’re coming!”
Mike started the motor and we drove away over the rutted field. We were about 200 yards out and I asked Carlos again, “Were those swamp people?”
Carlos said, “They weren’t people. T
hey’re animals.”
“Animals don’t walk on two legs,” Mike said.
“This kind does. You ever heard of Skunk Apes?”
I asked, “You mean Bigfoot?”
Ron commented, “There’s a lot stories about Skunk Apes being around here.”
Carlos continued, “Yeah, I stumbled on a camp of Bigfoots. I was chasing the turkeys, being real quiet, sneaking up on them. I was about 50 feet away from one when I heard your gun fire. The Apes heard it also and jumped out from behind the trees. I saw them and started to run. They came after me. I shot at them but they didn’t stop. I didn’t have time to reload because I was running. They’re faster than hell.”
“I don’t believe in Bigfoot,” Mike said.
“Well I do. There’s too much evidence that they exist,” I said. Mike looked at me and shook his head.
“So, you weren’t lost,” Mike said.
Carlos replied, “I wasn’t lost. I knew the way back, but if you guys hadn’t fired those rounds I would have walked right into their trap.”
“Trap? You think they set a trap for you?”
“Not for me, but for the turkeys. I am sure of it.” Carlos turned around to look behind us. “Stop! Look, there they are.”
Mike stopped and we peered back to the edge of the swamp. They were standing in the shadows of the trees. There was a group of about ten figures. It was too dark to make them out clearly. They stood there not moving, but they were watching us closely. It sent a chill down my spine.
Adolf looked also and growled. Maybe he could smell them.
Mike commented, “That’s not proof of Bigfoot. We can’t tell what they are from here.”
I said, “I don’t know if those are Skunk Apes or not but let’s get going. We’re running out of time.”
Carlos replied, “I’m a hunter, I know what I saw. One of them had me by the arm. Look he tore my sleeve off when I tried to get away. They smelled really bad. They were Skunk Apes alright.”
Mike laughed, “Ok, whatever you say.”
I replied, “Carlos, I believe you.”
Mike rubbed it in. “Those are swamp people and that’s why they smell bad. If you took a shower once a year you’d smell bad too.” Mike let out another loud laugh as we drove away.
THE TOCABAGA CHRONICLES: (BOX SET PART III - BOOKS #9-10) Page 5