Blue Ridge Breeze

by Ed Robinson

  All of our weapons were at the ready and placed in convenient places. At night the doors were blocked with furniture. We kept an eye out for strange vehicles on the gravel drive that came down from the blacktop road. Even Red was on full alert. We paid attention to him any time his ears perked up. When we left the cabin, we carried our pistols and got in the car quickly, never giving someone a chance to draw a bead on us.

  There were two windows that could be accessed from the ground on the backside of the cabin. I put thick rods in them to prevent them from being opened. There wasn’t much I could do to prevent them from being smashed in, but that racket would announce the intruder’s presence. No human could climb through our broken windows without catching a bunch of lead from our guns first.

  I started staying up late to stand watch. Eventually, Brody got up very early to spell me. It got to the point that we were never both asleep at the same time. It made us feel safer, but it was hell on our romantic life. We couldn’t keep up this routine forever.

  “I feel like I’m in prison,” Brody said. “We’ve got to do something different.”

  “I’m open to suggestions,” I said. “Have we misinterpreted those footprints? Maybe it was a lost hiker who stumbled onto our property. They turned around when they saw the cabin.”

  “I’d like to believe that,” she said. “But in Breeze’s world, it’s got to be something more sinister.”

  “I agree,” I said. “Whoever it was parked up the road and took a direct route to his vantage point and back. They had a purpose.”

  “For what?” she asked. “To look at our back door?”

  “Getting the lay of the land for some future operation maybe.”

  “Burn us out? Shoot up the place?”

  “If it’s the Chief, it could be either one of those things,” I said. “He won’t try to fight me again.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Find out where he lives and start stalking him,” I suggested.

  “To what end?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Try to figure out what he’s up to.”

  “Follow him to the gun shop and watch him buy more ammo?” she asked. “Then what?”

  “Just thinking out loud,” I said. “Trying to go on offense instead of being a sitting duck here.”

  “The walls are closing in on us,” she said. “I wish whoever it was would go ahead and make their move. Get it over with.”

  “I’ll talk to Rominger,” I said. “See if he has any ideas.”

  “I’ll go with you,” she said.

  I had no intention of leaving her alone in the cabin. We drove to Boone together to see what my state cop buddy had to say. He was on the road, but the dispatcher got in touch with him right away. We met at Denny’s for coffee. I explained our fears to him.

  “The Chief is off the radar,” he said. “Haven’t heard a peep about him since he left town.”

  “The new Chief paid me a visit,” I told him. “It was a bit awkward.”

  “How so?”

  “He got the word that I was a good guy and have been helpful to law enforcement,” I said. “But he made it clear that he didn’t trust me.”

  “We didn’t exactly trust you at first either,” he said. “You’ve proven yourself. That’s good enough for me.”

  “I guess I haven’t proven anything to Chief Hicks yet,” I said. “I’m not sure I trust him either.”

  “He’ll be under a lot of scrutiny until folks get comfortable with him,” he said. “He’ll play things by the book I’m sure.”

  “He does seem like a by the book kind of guy,” I said. “Maybe you using a man with my past doesn’t sit well with him. He thinks you aren’t going by the book.”

  “Hadn’t thought of it that way,” Rominger said. “I could see that.”

  “Meanwhile someone was watching my place,” I said. “It creeped us out.”

  “We may have let our paranoia get the best of us,” Brody chimed in. “But we’re afraid to let our guard down.”

  “I’ll keep a man close by for a while,” he offered. “We’ll have a car up and down 194 around the clock. I’ll get you a radio too.”

  “So you don’t think we’re nuts?”

  “You were right about Banner,” he said. “You’ve demonstrated your instincts more than once. If there is no threat, there is nothing lost.”

  “We appreciate it,” I said.

  There wasn’t anything else he could do. We got our radio and drove back home. We locked up and barricaded ourselves in. Red paced the floors nervously. He knew something was up. We hadn’t been out on a good hike for over a week. I felt sorry for him. I was feeling pent up myself.

  “Screw this,” I said to Brody. “Me and Red are going for a walk.”

  “Do I come with you or stay here?”

  “You’re a target out there,” I told her.

  “So are you,” she said.

  “Better me than you,” I said. “Just give us an hour or so.”

  “Be careful,” she said. “Take your rifle.”

  I did take the rifle and my pistol. I made Red stay close and move slowly. We went back to where we’d found the tracks. There were more. Our mystery man had come back to once again surveil our property. Son of a bitch.

  Red wanted to follow the fresh trail, but I wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. If I was by myself and in stealth mode, I might have given it a try. Red’s presence would give me away. He didn’t exactly move like smoke. I crouched down low in case I was in someone’s crosshairs, pulling Red in close. I had an unobstructed view of our cabin from this spot. There was absolutely no doubt now that someone was watching us, but why?

  I looked through my rifle scope at our back door. I could see our car in the driveway. The shot would be doable from here if we gave the shooter enough time. So far we’d foiled him by dashing to the car whenever we left. He didn’t want to take a wild shot at moving targets if that’s what he intended to do.

  How could I stop him? I couldn’t stand guard up here twenty-four hours a day. I couldn’t expect Red to sit up here and bark at any intruders. That was too dangerous for him. My gut was telling me that I might be in danger at that very moment. I had to guess that my enemy was between me and the road. I slithered behind some rocks that would protect me from that direction. Red cocked his head sideways.

  “Run on home, boy,” I told him, pointing to the house. “Go on now. Go home without me.”

  He hesitated before slowly turning towards the cabin.

  “Run,” I said. “Run, boy.”

  He did as he was told. There was no way a sniper could hit him at the speed he was traveling.

  “Good boy,” I said to myself. “Now what do I do?”

  I couldn’t run like Red. I could only move like smoke. I peered around the rocks and studied the woods in front of me for a long time. There was no sign of a man. I looked back towards the cabin and identified another area of cover. It took me two seconds to reach it. No shots were fired.

  I low-crawled through some taller weeds down a steep section of the hill, presenting as small a target as possible. I moved from rock to tree in short dashes, making minimal sound. Between the woods and the cabin was an open grassy area on a steep downward slope. I didn’t want to leave myself open for the time it would take to traverse it. There was nothing to hide behind. Instead, I circled the tree line to the western side of the cabin. I was able to run under the porch and into the garage without getting shot, but there was no access to the house from the garage. The only entryway was the back door, by the car.

  The house was built into the side of that steep hill. I crawled along the opposite side to the edge of the driveway. I knew Brody would have the door locked, possibly even barricaded. I reached a hand up and banged on the side of the house below the kitchen window. It opened a crack.

  “Breeze?”

  “Possible shooter up the hill,” I said. “Is Red inside?”

  “Yes,” she
said. “I wondered why he came home alone. It scared the shit out of me.”

  “Unlock the door,” I said. “I’m going to make a run for it.”

  Did you ever experience a moment in your life when you thought you might die? I mean one where you had time to think about it. At that moment, when I ran for the door, I might take a bullet. It gave me pause, but I took a few deep breaths and went for it. Brody swung the door open at just the right time, and I was safe inside.

  “Jesus, Breeze,” she said. “This is getting ridiculous.”

  “I didn’t see him, but we found more tracks,” I said. “I just had the feeling that he was there somewhere, watching.”

  “He’s ruining our lives, damn it,” she said. “The bastard is winning.”

  I had no argument to make. He was ruining our lives, and I felt powerless to stop him. My first instinct was to stay in the woods until he came back again, but he’d made two visits in two weeks. There was no way to know how long I’d have to wait for him to return if he returned at all. He would own me if I sat in the woods alone for a week or more. He’d be so far in my head I’d never get him out.

  I opened the back door and yelled up at the mountain.

  “Make your move you fucking coward,” I screamed. “Come out and face us like a man.”

  I slammed the door shut and turned to face a frowning Brody.

  “Feel better now? She asked. “Why not invite him in for coffee?”

  I grabbed the police radio and called in to report an intruder.

  “He was parked on Pigeon Roost Road the last time he was here,” I said. “Maybe you can catch him.”

  “On my way,” came the reply.

  We waited ten minutes before we heard from the officer.

  “Pigeon Roost is clear,” he said.

  “Thanks, officer,” I said. “Maybe next time. Glad to know you’re nearby.”

  Nineteen

  If all hell broke loose, a ten-minute response time from the police might be too long to make a difference. Brody and I tried to think of other things we could do. Our problem was that we never knew when our potential shooter might be here, or what tactics he would use. We were both in agreement that sooner or later, we’d be under attack.

  “What if we set up in the garage?” Brody asked. “He shoots the house up, but we’re safe down below. We can slip out and surprise him when he approaches after he’s done shooting.”

  “We’re assuming the assault will come from up the hill,” I said. “If he hits us from the front we’d be stuck with no way out.”

  “But he won’t think we’re in the garage,” she countered. “He’ll hit the living quarters, not an empty concrete space.”

  “Except those garage doors offer zero protection from bullets,” I said. “The log walls will. We only have to worry about windows.”

  “So we’re holed up in the cabin,” she said. “He shoots the hell out of everything. Does he try to breach the door when he’s done?”

  “It won’t go well for him if he does.”

  “Assuming we’re still alive,” she said.

  “I don’t like it any more than you do,” I said. “Our only other option is to leave. I’d think if he saw us loading a moving van he’d try to take us out right then and there.”

  “If he was watching at the time.”

  “Maybe this is just a psychological game he’s playing,” I said. “Drive us crazy. Put fear in us.”

  “It’s working,” she said. “But we have to believe there’s an end game. He’ll move on us eventually.”

  “After he has us so rattled we can’t think straight.”

  “Your challenge might cause him to act,” she said. “Now he needs to prove he isn’t a coward.”

  “Isn’t that what we want?” I asked. “To get this over with?”

  “Sure, except for the whole bullets flying part.”

  “Won’t be the first time for me,” I said.

  “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

  “I survived is the point,” I said.

  “Sometimes I think I was safer working for the FBI,” she said. “But I’ve got no regrets. We’ll get through this together.”

  That was why I loved her. She chose me over a career at the Bureau. She chose me over safety and stability. She chose me.

  Over the next few days, I went back and forth on our best strategy. I went down to the garage and looked things over. I envisioned what our defensive positions would be. I ran the possible scenarios through my mind. We could each slide out to opposite corners of the cabin, hoping one of us would get a shot at our assailant. That would be fine in the dark, but we’d be exposed during the day. If our attacker saw us retreat to the garage, we’d have no good place to hide. That idea counted on us getting in there without him knowing. I had to nix it.

  I revisited the idea of camping out in the woods. We’d both have to be out there for it to work. One of us alone in the house was a bad idea if the attack came from the opposite direction. We also had the dog to consider. Without four walls he might wander off or chase after some hapless critter. If I were the mystery man, I’d target the dog at the first opportunity, knowing that would hurt us. As much help as Red had been to me; he was a liability in this situation. I was responsible for his life. He was a member of our family. I would not put him at risk. That idea was shot to hell as well.

  We could run, at least temporarily. We could take another vacation or check into a hotel in Boone. If we stayed gone long enough, our foe would grow tired of waiting and give up on his mission, or maybe not. Maybe it would only delay the inevitable. Then the cycle would start all over again.

  I could go to the ex-Chief and confront him, call him out on stalking our property. All he had to do was deny it. I wasn’t absolutely certain it was him after all. If it wasn’t, I’d come across as a paranoid fool making false accusations. I might lose some of the goodwill I’d developed. I’d certainly lose the respect of the new Chief.

  I saw no good options. I could only hope that neither of us got hit and that the cops arrived in time to save our asses. I could only hope that they caught the guy when they arrived and that they didn’t get shot in the process. It was a very passive stance, which I despised, but it seemed our only recourse. Brody wasn’t fond of the idea either, but she was at a loss to offer a workable alternative.

  One day down in Florida, two drug thugs showed up in a speedboat and shot the crap out of my boat with me in it. I hid down below between the head and my food locker. My cans of vegetables took a direct hit, but they saved me from injury. That episode was spontaneous. I didn’t know they were coming. I didn’t have weeks to sit and think about getting shot at. I acted on reflex and was lucky to survive.

  This was a much different situation. The waiting was taking a toll on our psyche. We weren’t sleeping much, and when we did manage to nod off, we never got refreshed. The thought of absorbing gunfire at any second wasn’t an easy one to live with. Cooking on the stove meant passing in front of a window. Taking a crap meant sitting near a window as well, so I kept the blinds drawn. We had to go to town occasionally. That meant a mad dash to the car and keeping your head down while starting it. Carrying groceries back inside was an even more ridiculous exercise.

  There was no meaning to life for us, except staying alive. We knew that most of the time our worries were over a phantom. He wasn’t out there every second looking through his scope. We just didn’t know when he might be. The situation was slowly driving us insane. Our enemy was like Jack Nicholson in the Shining. We were stuck in our cabin waiting for him to finally snap and try to kill us. REDRUM! REDRUM!

  I called whatever cop was on our patrol several times a day, to make sure he were still out there. It was our only lifeline and our only connection to the outside world. It became a security blanket for both of us, even though it probably bothered the men who were assigned to protect us.

  I didn’t take Red back up the hill to look for new prints. I’d be t
oo easy a target crossing the open area between the cabin and the woods. His need to go outside several times a day was becoming a real problem. I kept him on a leash as we ran out the back door and around to the garage. His sniffing area was limited. We had to stay under the porch by the garage doors. He had four posts to choose from, and that was it. Brody would man the door so that when we ran back around the house, we could slip inside without stopping.

  Both of us were at our wit’s end. We couldn’t take much more of the constant stress and paranoia. We discussed taking some clothes and the dog and bugging out for a while, to maintain our sanity. Before we could make up our minds, the police radio crackled.

  “I’ve got a car just off the road on Pigeon Roost,” the officer said. “Running the tags now.”

  “Let me know,” I said. “We’re on high alert here.”

  It was only a few minutes before he called back again.

  “It’s a rental out of Bristol,” he said. “I’ve got someone getting in touch with the rental company now.”

  “Maybe you should head our way,” I suggested. “Just in case this isn’t just another surveillance run.”

  “I’ll circle back around on 194,” he said. “Ten minutes tops.”

  “Roger that.”

  Turns out we didn’t have ten minutes. All the glass in the back of the house exploded inward as automatic gunfire strafed that side of the cabin. Broken shards scattered across the floors in the kitchen, spare bedroom, and bathroom. We had been sitting in the living area in front of the fireplace and were both unscathed.

  “Up in the loft,” I yelled at Brody. “He won’t shoot at the roof.”

  I grabbed my rifle and the radio and dove into the master bedroom. I had the exterior log wall and another interior wall between me and the bullets. They continued to rain into the back of the house.

  “We’re under heavy fire at Creekside Cabin,” I said frantically. “I repeat, heavy fire.”

  “On my way,” the officer said. “The car was rented by the ex-Chief.”

  “Lights and siren, please,” I said. “And get someone at that car.”