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Trekking Home Page 6

by Jeffrey Miller


  “It shows great work,” Nate stated. The map would be used. It had so much information in detail. It even had a few notes about abandoned cabins and Park Ranger supply cabins that might come in handy if it were a last resort.

  “Ok, who’s hungry?” Mrs. Purdon asked. She came walking over with an enormous platter of bacon, biscuits, fried eggs, and sausage patties, then brought over a huge bowl of sausage gravy.

  Nate could already hear his stomach calling out for the food. He had not eaten this well in a long time. One thing was certain; he was making good friends along the way. He waited until Wyatt finished saying grace and waited for them to tell him to dig in.

  After breakfast, Nate needed to get his pack and himself ready for the next leg of his journey. Wyatt’s family was much like Gene’s in so many ways. They were a close-knit, caring and loving people that made Nate feel right at home. They also seemed to have more, good quality foods. Nate had learned they were preppers. Over the years many people had become concerned over the high risk of a governmental and societal collapse. TV programs about prepping even became popular. Having a deep larder went all the way back to biblical times. Nate was also a prepper in many ways but not as extensive as some. Nate sat on the edge of the bed; eyes closed thinking about his parents when Wyatt walked to the door.

  “Everything ok, son?” the words with his eyes closed made Nate feel like he was back at home just before leaving for the Army. The scene was the same with him sitting on the edge of his bed and hearing his father enter speaking the same words. Nate opened his eyes to see Wyatt standing in the doorway.

  “Yes Sir, just thinking about my folks. They are much like you guys, prepared, but I still worry about their safety.” Nate replied.

  Wyatt smiled. “Well Nate, as a parent I can tell you right now I am worried about my son and his family. They are likely fine, secluded at his retreat. God help anyone who tries to take what is theirs. I just keep telling myself that we brought him up right, to make the right decisions. It’s clear to me that your family has done the same for you. We understand why you have to leave.” Wyatt said extending his hand to Nate.

  “Thank you for everything Nate. My wife has a bag for you whenever you are ready” Wyatt said looking down the hall. Nate stood and spoke.

  “Thank you for the same Sir, things happen for reasons,” Nate said as Wyatt escorted Nate down the long hallway. Each step, Nate could see year’s worth of family photos. He paused at the sight of a young man dressed in what appeared to be late 90’s Marine Corp graduation attire. Nate realized that this was Wyatt’s son. He was a big man. Pound for pound the same as Nate. He hoped someday they could meet.

  In the living room, Nate found everyone waiting for him. Mrs. Purdon had a brown paper bag that looked very thick and heavy. She stepped towards Nate.

  Nate was handed the bag. Inside were several fresh cooked biscuits and zip lock bag stuff full of at least a pound of cooked thick sliced hickory bacon. Mrs. Purdon walked a little closer to Nate then spoke.

  “Thank you for saving the life of Wyatt. He is a good man, and so are you. May God see you safe to your blessed parents?” She hugged Nate. She was a remarkably strong woman. Nate hoped someday to have a wife that would be equally as strong. Wyatt walked up to Nate and handed him a beautiful leather holster that had been made for the 45-70 revolver.

  “I know it's heavy but at least keep it in your pack. It goes with the gun. Thank you again for helping save me.” He extended his hand and firmly shook Nate’s.

  “Well, you come back and see us when everyone finishes killing off one another,” Jenny said giving Nate a big kiss on the side of his cheek. She reached up into his inside shirt felt around till she found his pocket and stuffed her business card in it.

  “You know in case you ever need a coroner, Deputy Michaels.” She winked and stepped back.

  Nate just smiled. He didn’t know exactly how to handle her. She was a wild cat; he could see that.

  “Ok, you ready Nate? We have just a short drive down to the airstrip.” Cartwright asked.

  Nate said his final goodbyes and loaded up his gear into the trunk of the Sheriff's car. The two drove off headed south to the nearby airfield.

  The Plane was a Cessna 182T Sky Lane. It was a newer model, probably a few years old. Immaculate and could seat four people, Nate was certain. With this in mind, he knew there was plenty of room for what little gear he had now. The hanger was locked up well; only a few planes could be seen all tied down and not ready for flight. Cartwright had already been out and made ready the plane. Since nearly all commercial flights were dead in the water, he had no need to prep or contact anyone with a flight plan. No one would answer anyway, and he wasn’t too concerned about air traffic.

  He helped Nate load his pack and gun into the rear seat. He showed Nate his seat and familiarized him with a few emergency items and the seat belt.

  “What, no chute or airbags?” they both chuckled over his statement. The hanger door was now pulled open all the way allowing for the wings to pass. Cartwright climbed inside and prepped the plane for takeoff. The engine started right up and slowly he gave the throttle some fuel to advance them out of the hanger. He already discussed with Nate the altitude and time of flight. It would not take very long to get him across the border and to the Cristal Lake landing field.

  After the plane had pulled out, Nate closed the hanger doors and ran to the waiting plane. He climbed in and put on some headphones so they could communicate within the noisy confines of the cockpit. Now they were ready. Cartwright taxied to the runway and throttled up for takeoff speed. Headed down the strip, Nate could see the calm in his pilot’s action. Even though the runway was fairly bumpy, it didn’t seem to bother him in the least.

  Within moments they were up and on their way. Nate could see mountain ranges off in the distance as Cartwright gained altitude. His next feats were off in that direction. How long would it take him? He didn’t know, but he was feeling encouraged knowing his goal was getting closer by the second.

  Overall the flight did not take long; being it was less than 20 miles one way. Nate was regardless very grateful for the ride. The view was amazing, and the terrain below looked daunting. He was starting to question his sanity. The immediate thoughts that ran through his head were questioning why he didn’t just stay back at Gene’s. He could have waited and eventually gotten communications with his family. No, he had to try. It wasn’t in his nature to just sit back and let things swirl around him out of control. That’s why he took action in helping Wyatt. Nate knew he must try at least to get home. In time he would return to his new found friends.

  The Cessna was starting to descend now as it circled the area of Crystal Lakes.

  “Right down there, that’s where we are headed. Not much to look at, but I know the people, good folks. They will see you to the road we marked on the map.” Cartwright said, pointing down and talking loud into the headphones microphone.

  “Looks pretty isolated, I don’t see many roads in or out,” Nate replied. The winds coming in off the mountains made for a bumpy descent. Nate held on to the hand rest near the window. They hadn’t been that high up so the time it took for the approach was only minutes. Nate enjoyed the flight but would be glad to get on the ground.

  “Ok, this is a dirt/grass runway so that it might get a little bumpy, but it’s not bad,” Cartwright warned with a slight smile on his face. Nate like the guy, he had a particular style and humor to him. If things were, not as they were they would be fast friends. He told himself; someday I will be back through. Cartwright missed his calling with the military; they could have used someone with his unique skill set. As he brought the plane in and leveled it out nose up preparing to touch down, Nate looked around and didn’t see anyone around. The runway was just a narrow field with a road next to it. A few homes lined the road but not many. He didn’t see any cars or any other planes for that fact. He looked over at Cartwright who had a puzzled look on his face.

/>   “Well, we were supposed to have a welcoming party. Tim Hott was to be here and waiting. He is an old friend, from aviation school. I’m not sure what’s going on here, Nate.” he stated. Nate was starting to get that feeling in his gut; something was wrong, very wrong. Nate was already in defense mode.

  Nate scanned ahead quickly looking for a place to ditch and have Cartwright high tail it out on the turnaround. He couldn’t figure it out yet, but somewhere here was a danger. Nate had this in his genes. Ever since he could remember and understand it, he had this gift. His father told him it came from his heritage and Indian blood. No matter what it truly was, he knew it was real.

  “Cartwright, something is wrong here. Listen carefully, and I want you to do what I request, or you might not make it off the ground.” Just then, Nate caught the glimpse of something unmistakable to his eye. It appeared to be a lens reflection off of a scope. He just hoped the person behind the scope was a piss poor shot.

  Cartwright already knew enough of Nate’s history to know not to question, but just do. His plane was starting to slow down.

  “Don’t slow down too much. Can you gain enough speed to take off at the end of this runway?” Nate asked. Cartwright looked at Nate. His look told him his answer.

  “Ok, that’s what I was afraid of. I think we are about to be ambushed. I saw someone with a rifle, but I don’t think they want to damage the plane; otherwise they would have fired on us by now. So go ahead and take me to the end and just act like you are going to stop. Do a slow turnaround. I will ditch my gear and myself and head for the tree line fast near that shaded area.” Nate said, pointing.

  “I will try to get their attention. When you hear my attention-getting technique, you floor this bastard and get out of here. Understood?” Cartwright nodded.

  “Cartwright, you’re a good man and a good friend, thank you for getting me this far. I will do my best to take care of the issue on the ground. This won’t be my first firefight.” He shook his hand. Nate grabbed his bag from the back and readied himself for the extraction.

  Cartwright slowed and turned his plane around it was then they both could see three armed men at the midsection of the runway. Each had a rifle.

  “Ok, now you see them, as soon as I’m out you hit the gas and get up as fast as you can. They don’t appear to be in a hurry, probably think they have the upper hand. Hell, they may even believe that you don’t have enough fuel for the return flight.” Nate said.

  “I don’t” Cartwright replied.

  “I’m just kidding, more than enough. Get going, so I can go” He said laughing. Nate liked him even more, facing the possibility of death with humor. He would have made a great Special Forces operator.

  Still laughing, Nate bailed out of the Cessna and rolled for a second, nearly losing his pack in hand. He grabbed it up fast and headed for the tree line in the shadows. He was in the shadows now of some mountains. He felt secure and stopped to see Cartwright flying fast down the runway. He could hear the engine roaring louder than he expected and right about midway point the plane took a sharp ascent upwards and banked fast and out of sight. The men on the ground were running towards the runway but knew it was too late. One took aim.

  Nate leveled his 45-70 and placed the iron sights on the man with the rifle pointing up towards the climbing plane. Apparently, they hadn’t seen him jump from the plane.

  “Oh I don’t think so buddy,” Nate said to himself slowly squeezing the trigger. The loudness of the round being fired always surprised even himself. The force of the bullet tore through the guy's arm holding the rifle ripping it from its socket. The other men scrambled about trying to figure out where the shot came from. Whoever these men were, they appeared to have run off or done worse to the people who lived in the small community. Cartwright never heard a shot as he was well gone and high above and over the nearby mountain by the time Nate fired. He was on his way back to Laramie.

  Nate sat crunched behind a large pine watching the other two men crawling over to the man he shot. He was still alive. Nate could have killed him. He hoped by wounding him the others would feel a need to care for him and retreat. The worst of men could be seen in moments like this. One act could define your true enemy. It was then that Nate saw their true selves. One man crawled closer to the injured man. Nate was slightly higher than the three men and could easily see them, even from this distance.

  When the uninjured man reached the man without the arm, he removed a colossal knife and plunged it deep into the man’s chest. Nate could not believe his eyes. Then he saw the man rummaging through his jacket removing his small pistol and a few other items. Perhaps the man Nate shot was their leader. Now it was someone else’s time to lead.

  This action defined who the man was. The other man was motionless. Nate had to end this now; he needed to get to the other side of the runway and also find out what happened to Cartwright’s friends. Nate pulled up his 45-70 again and took aim on the man that just killed the man he shot. Then he saw the man yelling at the other man, and he pointed the newly acquired pistol at him. Nate wasn’t sure, but he thought he was being told to get up and find Nate, sacrificing him to the lions. That was the final nail. Nate aimed carefully and quickly dispatched the man holding the pistol with one precise shot the head. In an instant, his head exploded in a flash of pinkish red spray. The other man just stood arms in the air. Nate stood and slowly walked. He never took his aim off the man just standing.

  Finally, as he got closer, he could see the man was a teen.

  “Move and I will shoot you, understood?” Nate barked out.

  “Yes, I won’t move sir” Sir, the teen addressed him with Sir. So he did have some respect.

  Nate frisked the teen slowly, never removing his arm from him. The teen’s eyes focused on the short but very round barrel of the 45-70. He was slightly trembling. Nate stepped over to the headless man, pushed him over and saw he was wearing some biker jacket. A faded out denim jacket with unreadable patches. What he walked over to the man was still had a long blade knife sticking in his chest. He also had a biker style jacket on, under the military style tactical jacket.

  Everyone wore these types of jackets now; they all wanted to be tactic-cool. These two were just tactic-dead.

  Nate moved slowly to the young man. He stood looking him over. He didn’t appear to be like these guys. He was just a kid. His clothing was different also. He wore old style converse and skinny jeans. Nate wondered how the kids of today especially males could wear skinny jeans. How in the hell did that not mess up a guy's private parts?

  “Who are you? How do you know these two?” Nate asked directly and firmly. He had to let this kid know he was in charge now. The kid looked over at the two dead bodies on the ground. His face contorted some and put his attention back on Nate. “They picked me up, kidnapping me on I-25. I had taken off from home, then all this trouble happened.”

  “Where do you call the home kid, where are your parents?” Nate asked. The boy spoke right up.

  “Rustic, Colorado, sir,” he replied. Nate removed his map and remembered seeing that on the map.

  “Well believe it or not you’re not that far from home,” Nate replied. Nate looked around.

  “What’s your name so I can stop calling you kid?” Nate asked.

  “Chris Thomas” he replied.

  “Chris, did these guys have bikes?” Nate asked looking around. The kid’s eyes seemed to grow. He hadn’t thought about that with all that had taken place in the past 30 minutes.

  “Yes, sir, over behind that shed. The man that was in there told them a plane was coming; I guess that was you. They killed the man, sir, I’m sorry.” Nate was sorry for the kid, so young to have seen so much death. Made him wonder what was going on in the big cities if it was this bad here?

  “Well, I’m sure there was nothing you could do to stop that,” Nate said regretfully.

  “Let’s go over there and take a look at the bikes they have.” Nate lowered his weapon and fo
llowed Chris. He walked fast as a teen does, but Nate kept up. He looked 15, could be 16 since he seemed to know how to ride a dirt bike. But Nate could ride a sizable dirt bike at 8.

  “Right over here.” he said not wanting to go any further.

  “That man’s body is around the corner. They shot him dead.” Nate told Chris just to wait and don’t move. He peered around the corner slowly to see an older model Honda sports road bike and a very nice BMW off the road touring bike much like the ones you might see in adventure shows. Near one of the bikes was a man about Cartwright’s age maybe a little older. He was gone for sure. It looked like whoever shot him put two in his chest and one in his head.

  He called for Chris. Slowly, Chris came around the corner and turned his head away.

  “Yes?” he asked. Nate felt bad, but he needed Chris to do something and fast.

  Nate looked over to an open garage.

  “Go over to that garage and see if you can find any shovel. We need to bury this man. He didn’t deserve to die, but he does deserve a proper burial. Respect always.” Chris looked up at Nate.

  “I understand” Chris turned and ran to the garage. Nate dragged the man’s lifeless body over behind another building. About the time he did, Chris came back with two good sized garden shovels.

  “I will help, if that’s ok,” Chris asked. Nate didn’t know this kid but realized something he had said clicked with him. Maybe this was his way of saying he was sorry to be a party to the doings of the other two dead men back at the runway.

  “Yes, I’m sure this man’s family would appreciate it wherever they might be.” Nate and Chris got to work. In about an hour they had dug deep small gravel. Nate looked around until he found something to use as a grave marker, and wrote out a note on the stone with the man’s name. He placed his ID under the rock. He made a cross out of branches and stuck it in the ground. Nate and Chris brought rocks to cover the grave. “Chris, you did good work here. This man can rest in peace. Let’s say a word and bow our heads.” Nate removed his ball cap and bowed his head. He said the Lord’s Prayer and a few other things.

 

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