Trekking Home

by Jeffrey Miller

  Nate took Chris back to where the two motorbikes stood. Both looked in good condition. Chris watched as Nate went over the Harley road bike. It had a saddle pack that appeared to be loaded out with supplies.

  “Most of that stuff they stole along the way, I think they took that other bike from someone also,” Chris said. Nate opened the bag. Inside was a carton of cigarettes, small food bars, and one small radio, what appeared to be a little Yaesu Ham radio. The radio looked like a 2-meter unit. He didn’t see an antenna on it. He searched through the deep bag and found a plastic bag with the long whip antenna and an extra battery. He turned the radio on and adjusted the squelch. Some traffic could be heard, but he needed to be up higher up the mountains. The other bag had one small box of ammo and a small folding solar panel. Nate unfolded the panel; it read that it was a 22w high-efficiency solar charger. The solar panel folded several times and had dual USB ports. There were also several adapters and cables. These guys must have taken this from a hiker. These were very popular now with outdoor enthusiasts. They were now Nate’s. He wasn’t sure if he could still get out on cellular but having the extra power ability for the small radios would be nice.

  Nate jumped on the Harley and fired it right up. The tank showed it had a full tank of gas. He looked it over some more until he was certain it was good to go. The bike seemed in good condition, the route it would take was short and could easily do the job. Now the question was could Chris ride it.

  “Chris, can you ride this?” Chris looked surprised at the question then laughed some. Nate didn’t expect the reaction.

  “Sir, I can ride it, I can ride that, and can operate any motorbike, and I am a semi-professional motocross competitor.” Nate looked the kid over, up and down. He had something in the back of his mind when he first saw the kid, something familiar but couldn’t place it. Now he knew.

  “You are Chris of Moto-X” Christopher Thomas?” Nate said as if blurting out the phrase on the Wheel of Fortune. Chris smiled.

  “That’s me,” he said.

  “I didn’t come up with the nickname; others pinned that to me. I preferred the devil on two wheels” he stated. Through the dirt and funky clothes, the kid wore Nate could now see the same young man he had seen on TV watching the sport with his nephew who was just starting the same.

  “Sorry, I never pieced it together until now,” Nate said. Chris looked over at the BMW.

  ‘That’s my bike. The gang only caught me because I ran out of gas.” Nate watched as Chris walked over to it. The tank was now full. Chris ran his hands across the seat.

  “My parents are probably so mad and worried now. I just want to get home” Chris said.

  “You will” Nate reassured him.

  “My dad got me this a few months ago. I decided to take it out for a ride. I don’t get out much, and we are always traveling for shows. I just wanted to go up the road. I started out with a small short ride. It was so fun I just kept going east. Before I knew it, I was on I-25 in Fort Collins. I had no idea I had gone that far. I ran out of gas being chased by the gang, they took my bike and when they figured out who I was, let me live. I think they thought they could make me into one of them.” Chris explained.

  Nate felt bad for the kid, but he realized again he wasn’t a kid; Almost 18 if he remembered correctly. He knew more about bikes and rode far more than Nate ever did. He had to change his plans now, and fast. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with this rider.

  “Chris I am sorry that happened to you. You said you had no idea where you are right now.” Chris looked at Nate.

  “That was the first time I ever left my house on my bike. Honestly, I had only ever been out with my father. When the gang took my bike, we went so many places, and I became so disoriented. I was in fear I guess, but I just gave up.” he replied.

  Nate pulled out his map and looked it over briefly. He pulled out a marker he carried from his shirt pocket and traced something on the seat of the Harley.

  “Chris, here let me show you something,” Nate said motioning for Chris to look.

  “Ok, here is where we are. You said you live in Rustic Colorado, right?” Nate asked. Chris nodded his head yes. Chris was watching Nate trace the map with his fingers.

  “You live here; it's less than 20 miles Chris.” Chris’s eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t believe all this time he was this close to home. It was dumb luck he guessed that the gang had come back this way to pillage and plunder like pirates of a different time.

  “Chris, if you leave now you can be home very soon. Take your bike and get home. Do not stop for anyone, go off road if needed, but get home. I’m sure your folks will be glad to see you.”

  “What about you, sir?” he asked. Nate realized not once had he ever told this kid what his name was.

  “You don’t have to call me sir; my name is Nate Michaels. As for me, I will stay behind a while longer to try to buy you some time. How many bikers were there?” Chris pondered the question.

  “Nate, I think there were about six that left, maybe 7. I can’t remember, honestly. I do know they said they would be back before midnight.” He answered.

  Nate looked at his watch; it was 8:46 PM. It gave him enough time and Chris time to get home. Nate could leave with Chris but knew this would only give an open invitation to the gang to come looking. Chris’s parents didn’t live that far away, and it wouldn’t be hard to find them in time. He didn’t know what kind of firepower they had but figured they must be armed pretty well.

  “Ok, I could go with you and try to keep up on this old bike, but you are a much better rider than I., But I would rather you just high tail it home and not look back. I will give you this map. It will be easy to follow after I duct tape it to the map holder on your bike.” Nate said and noticed Chris starting to laugh. He walked over to his saddle pack and removed a small unopened box. It was one of the latest Garmin devices for his bike. His dad gave it to him for his 18 birthday, but he never got around to mounting the gadget. Nate looked at him and spoke.

  “Really” he couldn’t believe the gang hadn’t looked in the pack.

  “They looked in the pack and assumed since they couldn’t get out on radios that this wouldn’t work, so they never bothered with it,” Chris explained.

  Fortunately, someone didn’t realize they used Satellites. Nate just shook his head and folded his map back up and assisted Chris in mounting the small GPS. He wired it directly to the power port from the bikes battery, and it fired right up. Next Nate had Chris program in the HOME feature and set it for its destination.

  “You should be home in less than an hour Chris. Just try not to stop. If you see or hear anything that might be bad, go around it, or pull off and shut down your bike and hide.” Chris nodded he understood.

  “Chris, do you know how to shoot a gun?” Nate asked. He watched Chris’s face. He seemed calm when he answered.

  “Yes, I’m a pretty good shot with my air rifle.” All shooters start with a bb gun. It was time to instruct him on the basics of real guns. Getting home might be easy or he may have to defend himself. Either way, Nate wasn’t going to be there to do it for him.

  Nate took his time to explain why Chris needed to carry a pistol with him. There was a revolver in the saddle bag. The gun was wrapped in an oil cloth to keep it dry. It was in excellent shape and had a box of ammo.

  Chris seemed to like the idea of self-defense. Nate figured being held captive was enough to make him not want to be a victim again.

  “My dad would appreciate this Nate; he is a State Trooper. I hadn’t wanted to learn about real guns because I wasn’t ready.” Chris said. Nate shook his head, indicating he understood.

  “I was the same way at one time, and then I decided to go into the Army. You don’t have a choice after that.” Nate said unloaded then inspecting the barrel of the .38 for any imperfections in its interior.

  “Just be certain when you get home to give this gun to your father and explain in detail that another officer g
ave it to you for the reasons I said. Tell him when things return to normal he can run the serial number to make sure it’s not stolen or used in a crime. However, for now, you will be using it. I’m not too considered about normal law and order right now. Our country is not like it once was and survival is most important now. I’m sure he will understand.

  “Chris, did you have a cell phone when all of this happened?” Nate asked hoping by chance the solar panels might be able to charge and get a signal with a better battery.

  “I did, but I dropped it while running from them, I never saw it after that. Think it’s on I-25 somewhere. Sorry, I haven’t seen any of the gang using any phones either. Did hear them say that all the towers are down. I assume that means no cell phones will work.” Chris asked.

  “I’m afraid so Chris. I have my older flip phone but can’t get out on it. I did briefly a few days ago, but that was only for a few seconds.” Nate explained. Chris put on a jacket he had in his side box. The side boxes were very large stainless steel metal boxes that were on both sides of the rear wheel area. He didn’t have much with them but did have a nice windbreaker. The temperature was starting to drop as the night came. Nate didn’t like the idea of the kid riding home through the mountains in the dark but knew it would be better than staying at the airfield. It was likely going to be a rough night for Nate.

  Chris turned to Nate with a questioning look on his face.

  “Where are you going?” Chris asked. It was like he suddenly thought about the whole situation. He saw Nate arrive by plane, but he wasn’t coming here to stay.

  “I’m heading home, to Texas. I left Montana over a week ago. I have been traveling from there to here anyway I can.” He replied looking at his watch.

  “Will you take this bike and go home?” Chris asked. Nate looked over at the bike. It was dark now the sun barely shown over the mountains.

  “I will use it or whatever as far as it will take me, Chris,” Nate replied.

  “Ok, well I guess I better get going. I hate to leave you but thank you for saving my life. I don’t know how long I could have kept up or kept going with these guys you are waiting for; please be careful” Chris implored Nate.

  “You just get home, I will handle them. Be sure to tell your dad about these men. Tell him to take extra precautions around your home; I’m sure he is already.” Nate said.

  Chris straddled the big bike and turned the key over. It started easily and was so quiet. That was a good thing, Nate thought to himself. The headlight was brilliant, and would easily allow Chris to see the roads.

  Nate walked over to Chris.

  “Just remember what we talked about with the gun, don’t pull it unless you are going to shoot it. Keep it in your vest and do like we discussed if needed.” Nate instructed.

  “I will sir, you are careful too. If you can stop by our place if it’s not out of the way.” Chris asked.

  “If I can, but I may have to say our goodbyes from here Chris. Someday I will be back through in better times. Then you can show me how to ride better” Nate said shaking Chris’s hand. Chris nodded and slowly pulled outstanding up watching the road in front of him with all the boulders. Once he cleared them, he sat and went on his way. Nate watched as he expertly navigated through the maze of obstacles that lead to the main road. Once on the road, he could hear Chris give the throttle more gas, and he was gone done the road very fast.

  Chapter 9

  The Night Wolves

  Nate planned to be far from this location by now. It had been about two hours since Chris left. He would have been home by now, or so Nate hoped. Nate wondered how excited his parents would be to see their son riding up the road to their home. He hoped he could see the same someday when he arrived at his parents.

  For the past few hours, Nate had spent the entire time going from house to house trying to see if anyone was home. Apparently either these are rented out cottages, or people had already left. Mr. Hoyt had stayed back for Cartwright to help out a friend. Nate checked for supplies and other usable items but didn’t find many things. He had a plan to either impede or slow down these gangs from their recent looting. He just hoped it worked.

  Nate positioned himself up high on a ledge. He could easily see the entire airfield now, and all of the homes on the other side. It was dark out but with his creation made it easy to see. He spent the past four hours gathering up old wood and fallen trees making numerous bonfires. These fires did a few things. They, of course, provided light for Nate to see where the gang members would be. Second, they would provide confusion as the gangs rode back into the area. Nate had located a small cliff area that would enable him to stay warm overnight. He wanted to fire but the fires he created cast enough light to his location. It was already after midnight, the sounds of the forest became silent as he could hear this slight growling sound off in the distance approaching. It sounded like wolves growling, but as it came closer, it was the unmistakable sounds of motorbikes riding through the canyons.

  Finally, as the sound came closer, he saw the tiny headlights approaching up the small road. He counted exactly seven bikes. Some of the bikes had some with two riders on one bike. Then he could see the ones riding bitch. Long flowing hair, skinny, wearing tank tops even in this weather, they had women with them.

  When they first approached, they did so slowly. Nate was right; this confused them. All of the bonfires were not what they expected. They stopped and turned off their bikes at a safe distance from the fires. He could hear one of the men yelling out something. He figured it was the name of one of the men that lay dead near the runway. He left them there to give more appearance of mayhem.

  When the man yelling didn’t get a response, they all started their bikes back up and rode fast into the area as though they were not afraid and tried to frighten anyone who might be there. They rode in circles and around the fires looking about. Finally, one biker found the two bodies. He stopped and jumped off the bike.

  He appeared very upset and was on his knees at the side of the man with the knife still in his chest. The man called out a name Nate couldn’t discern. Nate assumed maybe this was a brother or someone close. The other bikers were now riding to his location having seen the man off his bike. One by one they all stopped and turned off their bikes. One man was very tall, and the big built man with long black hair was the last to arrive. He got off his small bike, small compared to his frame, and walked over to the man on his knees. The man was talking to the others around him and then knelt down to look at the body. Nate saw him look over at the other body. He then stood and started to look around. He appeared to be looking for something. Maybe the plane? Nate thought to himself.

  You can keep looking asshole; the plane is long gone. But then he realized he was looking around for Chris. He was the third person missing. He waved his arms, and two men ran off looking around the homes. Nate already had taken the Harley and hid it. They would not find it. One man was slowly walking the path that Chris took. He dropped to his knees like he was studying the ground. He also seemed to have long dark hair. This man’s attention to the ground worried Nate. He watched the man carefully walking and observing the ground even in the dark. Something was triggering his gut reaction now, with this man. He and the tall man that seemed to be the leaders concerned him. Nate removed from his pack a pair of high powered binoculars. He was careful to wait to use them when no one would be looking in his direction. When the moment was right, he peered through them to read the name on the back of their vests.

  Night Wolves

  How ironic, Nate thought. He hadn’t heard that name in years. His unit, nicknamed the ‘THE NIGHT WOLVES.' Nearly all of his deployments were at night, high-level targets with difficult infiltrations and extractions. They could go in most places that many wouldn’t attempt, minus the SEALS or DELTA. His unit had a reputation even they respected. Now he was looking at a small gang that called themselves the same. On his right arm, he had the insignia with the name tattooed. All the men he was f
ishing within Montana had the same tattoo.

  What concerned Nate about the man sniffing around on the ground was the idea he could be a real tracker. His impression was that the man was likely a Native American. If that were the case, he would find the Harley. His attempt to hide it would have succeeded from the average man, but not from a tracker. Moments went by, and the man was off and running down a small deer trail Nate had taken the bike. Minutes later he came back up the trail pushing the bike. Nate had drained the fuel just in case.

  That answered the tracker question. This changed everything. Nate’s mode of travel was gone for now. He could just wait them out and may need to, but that wasn’t the reason why he stayed behind. He needed to stop their attacks on people; he needed to do the right thing. How to do this was easy if were a mission. He would go in under cover of night and take one out at a time. Sounded easy enough but life wasn’t like the movies. He wasn’t Rambo. He was deadlier than Rambo, that was true, but you never really knew what the enemy would do until sometimes it was too late.

  Nate spent some time studying each one of them. Even the women, studying their habits, how often they took smoke breaks, went to the bathroom, ate just everyday activities. Except that he didn’t have days to observe. He had less than one day. For now, he would allow them time to rest. They would need it.

  Nate slept little. The thought of the tracker had kept him up most of the night. He didn’t know how good he was, so during the evening while they seemed to party he moved from his previous location and took extra care with his trail and markings. Now he was at another rock formation near the end of the runway where he bailed out from the Cessna.

  It was early, very early when Nate set out to do what he needed. The bonfires were kept going by the gang. The smoke flowed everywhere making the morning cool air heavy. The bikers had made camp after securing the area shortly after they arrived. They used cheap tents and parked all of their bikes away from the fires. The bikes were all gathered together much like cowboys use to tie up their horses. He went to the bikes first using the early morning darkness of the woods to cover his approach. The one man he called tracker was up, and just sitting beside one of the smaller fires they made. Nate got a good look at him from the tree line.