Story Market Day
- Thread starter ComCamGuy
- Start date
223shootersc
Veteran Member
Thanks, CCG!
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
First weekend of the quake
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Which always nagged at me a tad - how were the felons so quick off the mark post-wave? Was something planned and the tsunami coincidentally threw a wrench in every bodies lives? Including theirs?
Logically I wouldn't expect any detail on that until we get to the formalisation of the Clan but with this dual track tale and adding so many nuances, subplots and personal details, that could be 500K words out or just around the corner.
No rush - doc said I was "doing well, considering" - there's a confidence builder right?
I'm going to laugh in his face if he gives me the "don't start any long books" thing: way waaay too late to worry about such logistics now.
Last edited:
Most thieves are just like you and I. Head on a 360 swivel checking with people in the know. Can see a trend coming constantly analyzing. They know who belongs and who doesn’t. Always thinking of biggest rewards and new and innovative ways to get them. Not talking about the low level but the professional who use the stupid ones. Such as cartel’s and various mob type organizations. They have paid informants we have friends and relatives.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
And the initial issue was seizing the opportunity to eliminate the small federal cop force in the park , knowing it would be a long time before they got around to replacing them, much less interfering. Initia hit, take out the thorns, later figure out what else they can do to take advantage of the greater chaos
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Deep in the Night, in the Parking Lot
“Hey, buddy! You want to tell us what you are doing here.”
The voice wasn’t unexpected. The crunching of the tires on gravel woke Stephen up from the light dozing he was doing as he lay on the gear in the back of the truck. He was very careful not to move anything except his eyes at first. No reason to get them startled. He didn’t need to add any more openings to his body.
“Officers, I and my two companions who are asleep in the cab of the truck, didn’t want to move around after dark with the curfew. So, we stopped here for some sleep, figuring to move on at sunrise.”
At this, he saw one of the two officers, a male, move to one side so he could see the cab of the truck better while his partner, a woman, continued to do the talking.
“You shouldn’t be out at all. You should have stayed at home.”
“Love to, officer, but my home is about fifteen-hundred miles north of here. That’s where we are headed.”
“And the other two in the truck?”
“My brother and sister. Our mom’s house is gone, and they are coming north with me. No house to stay in to avoid curfew, so we figured stopped was better than you seeing someone driving around.”
“Sounds like a real convenient story.” Her partner said, not taking his eyes off the cab.
Stephen prayed real hard Sam and Gabe paid attention to what he said earlier about not moving anything, not even twitching, and sleeping with their hands in the open, where someone could see they were empty.
“Sometimes the truth is like that. I know better than to screw with you guys.”
“Professional curtesy?” the woman asked, her hand still not off of the pistol at her side. Neither was her partner’s.
‘Here was the tricky part.’ Stephen thought as he spoke.
“Yeah, I basically tried to put myself in your shoes, tried to make sure I didn’t do anything too stupid, and stay away from any actions I would have issue with in my jurisdiction.”
“Your jurisdiction?”
“Yeah. I’m federal law enforcement up in Washington state.”
“Sounds squirrely. If he was Federal, then why didn’t he ID himself earlier?” the male cop asked his partner.
“Because I’m way outside my jurisdiction, and here as a civilian. I didn’t figure you guys needed another asshole trying to throw their imaginary weight around. I hate it when others try to do it to me, so I try to not do it to others.”
“You got proof?” the female officer asked.
“I have my credentials in my left upper outer pocket if you want to see them. I didn’t want to start reaching for them here in the dark before I asked. That would have been a very bad mistake on my part.”
“Slowly and carefully.” The woman said.
Stephen reached in with two fingers and retrieved his credentials wallet. Once it was out of his pocket, he opened it up and held it out to the side where the male officer could see it and read them in the light of his flashlight.
“Forest Ranger?” He looked at his partner. “A Forest Ranger?”
Stephen grinned. “Yeah, Backcountry Forest Ranger Law Enforcement. I’m the one who makes sure your pick-a-nick baskets are safe. That’s the other reason I didn’t throw it around. Half the time I have to convince people it’s a real job. Most the time they are more impressed with my Eagle Scout than they are my creds.” He tried for his best disarming smile. He just wanted them to see them as harmless and move on. Even better would be them making sure no one else stops in hand hassles them. He risked a glance at his watch. They might get two more hours sleep if these guys left soon.
“Hey, the forest guys do more than that. They were the ones working with Chris down in New Mexico hunting druggies.” The woman said.
“And you believe what your ex said? Hell, I wonder if he even went to New Mexico. Weaselly-ass DEA prick.”
“Oh, I believe him on that one. I saw the pics of some of the places they were humping through the desert. No way in hell that directionally challenged mother****er would have ever made his way into or out of some of those places.” She shot back.
“Yeah, I’ve played tour guide for them a few times up north. We go through all the effort to find the spots, bring them in, and then they get all the kudos, budget increases and promotions, and we just get a thanks for the assist letter.” Stephen chimed in.
“Well, selfish prick is one of the reasons he is my ‘Ex’.” She said.
“That, and he tried to sleep with your sister.” The guy added.
“ANYWAY, back to the subject at hand,” the woman said turning back to Stephen, “what can we do to help you out?”
“Well, depending on what the rules are, you could mark us as ‘OK’, so no one else has to detour the rest of their patrol for us being here, we catch a few more hours sleep, then at dawn, we continue trying to find a navigable gap in the ten so we can go north? How does that sound?”
“You’re still trying to find how to get north?” she asked.
“Yeah. Between collapsed crossovers and horrible jams, we kept moving west looking for a way through.”
“Tell you what. You wake the other two up, then you follow us and we will take you through the closest cut over. By then, it will be close enough to dawn, you can press on without getting hassled. Does that work?”
“Tell you what,” Stephen said as he made an exaggerated show of looking at his watch “Best plan I’ve heard all morning.”
“Hey, buddy! You want to tell us what you are doing here.”
The voice wasn’t unexpected. The crunching of the tires on gravel woke Stephen up from the light dozing he was doing as he lay on the gear in the back of the truck. He was very careful not to move anything except his eyes at first. No reason to get them startled. He didn’t need to add any more openings to his body.
“Officers, I and my two companions who are asleep in the cab of the truck, didn’t want to move around after dark with the curfew. So, we stopped here for some sleep, figuring to move on at sunrise.”
At this, he saw one of the two officers, a male, move to one side so he could see the cab of the truck better while his partner, a woman, continued to do the talking.
“You shouldn’t be out at all. You should have stayed at home.”
“Love to, officer, but my home is about fifteen-hundred miles north of here. That’s where we are headed.”
“And the other two in the truck?”
“My brother and sister. Our mom’s house is gone, and they are coming north with me. No house to stay in to avoid curfew, so we figured stopped was better than you seeing someone driving around.”
“Sounds like a real convenient story.” Her partner said, not taking his eyes off the cab.
Stephen prayed real hard Sam and Gabe paid attention to what he said earlier about not moving anything, not even twitching, and sleeping with their hands in the open, where someone could see they were empty.
“Sometimes the truth is like that. I know better than to screw with you guys.”
“Professional curtesy?” the woman asked, her hand still not off of the pistol at her side. Neither was her partner’s.
‘Here was the tricky part.’ Stephen thought as he spoke.
“Yeah, I basically tried to put myself in your shoes, tried to make sure I didn’t do anything too stupid, and stay away from any actions I would have issue with in my jurisdiction.”
“Your jurisdiction?”
“Yeah. I’m federal law enforcement up in Washington state.”
“Sounds squirrely. If he was Federal, then why didn’t he ID himself earlier?” the male cop asked his partner.
“Because I’m way outside my jurisdiction, and here as a civilian. I didn’t figure you guys needed another asshole trying to throw their imaginary weight around. I hate it when others try to do it to me, so I try to not do it to others.”
“You got proof?” the female officer asked.
“I have my credentials in my left upper outer pocket if you want to see them. I didn’t want to start reaching for them here in the dark before I asked. That would have been a very bad mistake on my part.”
“Slowly and carefully.” The woman said.
Stephen reached in with two fingers and retrieved his credentials wallet. Once it was out of his pocket, he opened it up and held it out to the side where the male officer could see it and read them in the light of his flashlight.
“Forest Ranger?” He looked at his partner. “A Forest Ranger?”
Stephen grinned. “Yeah, Backcountry Forest Ranger Law Enforcement. I’m the one who makes sure your pick-a-nick baskets are safe. That’s the other reason I didn’t throw it around. Half the time I have to convince people it’s a real job. Most the time they are more impressed with my Eagle Scout than they are my creds.” He tried for his best disarming smile. He just wanted them to see them as harmless and move on. Even better would be them making sure no one else stops in hand hassles them. He risked a glance at his watch. They might get two more hours sleep if these guys left soon.
“Hey, the forest guys do more than that. They were the ones working with Chris down in New Mexico hunting druggies.” The woman said.
“And you believe what your ex said? Hell, I wonder if he even went to New Mexico. Weaselly-ass DEA prick.”
“Oh, I believe him on that one. I saw the pics of some of the places they were humping through the desert. No way in hell that directionally challenged mother****er would have ever made his way into or out of some of those places.” She shot back.
“Yeah, I’ve played tour guide for them a few times up north. We go through all the effort to find the spots, bring them in, and then they get all the kudos, budget increases and promotions, and we just get a thanks for the assist letter.” Stephen chimed in.
“Well, selfish prick is one of the reasons he is my ‘Ex’.” She said.
“That, and he tried to sleep with your sister.” The guy added.
“ANYWAY, back to the subject at hand,” the woman said turning back to Stephen, “what can we do to help you out?”
“Well, depending on what the rules are, you could mark us as ‘OK’, so no one else has to detour the rest of their patrol for us being here, we catch a few more hours sleep, then at dawn, we continue trying to find a navigable gap in the ten so we can go north? How does that sound?”
“You’re still trying to find how to get north?” she asked.
“Yeah. Between collapsed crossovers and horrible jams, we kept moving west looking for a way through.”
“Tell you what. You wake the other two up, then you follow us and we will take you through the closest cut over. By then, it will be close enough to dawn, you can press on without getting hassled. Does that work?”
“Tell you what,” Stephen said as he made an exaggerated show of looking at his watch “Best plan I’ve heard all morning.”
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Up North, Deep in the Brambles
“You want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Randy said as he joined Barbara in the small space at the base of the rock wall behind the giant blackberry bramble.
“Shhh. In a moment, but we need to be quiet.” Barbara said as she leaned her bicycle against the brabble bush.
“Well, this is cozy.” Benji said as he made his way into the tiny space.
“Shhh.” Barbara hissed from where she was using her filter bottle to catch water from the seep in the rock.
It didn’t take long for the other two to catch on, each refilling their water supply. Barbara was hauling out some supplies from her knapsack while the others were finishing up with the water.
“OK, now you want to tell me, us, what is going on?” Randy said in a quiet voice.
“I don’t know.” Barbara said, stunning the both of them.
“What do you mean, ‘I don’t know’ You have us riding all the way out here, we are hiding in a blackberry bush and ‘you don’t know’?”
“Yeah. I don’t know. What I do know is someone killed my car, took the roadmap to where we were supposed to be, and left. They didn’t seem to care they were leaving tons of evidence for Stephen and the rest of the cops here either. What I do know is I don’t want to lead them back to where we are living and sleeping by taking off straight to there from my car. What I do know is I don’t want to run into them on the trail. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t wear my anti-machinegun armor today. That’s why we went so far out of our way, that’s why we are hiding here instead of continuing. We can’t ride safely without lights and we know how far away you can see lights out here at night. That’s why we are talking quietly. What I’m hoping is we stay here the night, stay hidden, eats some food, get some sleep, check the map in the morning and sneak our way back to the cabin to regroup and maybe find out what the hell is going on in the park.”
The other two sat there a little stunned. Barbara was usually not this talkative and definitely not this forceful when she was.
“Who made you the boss?” Randy asked, not in a mean way, but the question was out there now.
“Yeah, just because you’re banging boots with Stephen doesn’t make you in charge when he isn’t here.” Benji added.
“Either one of you got a better plan? Let’s hear it.”
“You want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Randy said as he joined Barbara in the small space at the base of the rock wall behind the giant blackberry bramble.
“Shhh. In a moment, but we need to be quiet.” Barbara said as she leaned her bicycle against the brabble bush.
“Well, this is cozy.” Benji said as he made his way into the tiny space.
“Shhh.” Barbara hissed from where she was using her filter bottle to catch water from the seep in the rock.
It didn’t take long for the other two to catch on, each refilling their water supply. Barbara was hauling out some supplies from her knapsack while the others were finishing up with the water.
“OK, now you want to tell me, us, what is going on?” Randy said in a quiet voice.
“I don’t know.” Barbara said, stunning the both of them.
“What do you mean, ‘I don’t know’ You have us riding all the way out here, we are hiding in a blackberry bush and ‘you don’t know’?”
“Yeah. I don’t know. What I do know is someone killed my car, took the roadmap to where we were supposed to be, and left. They didn’t seem to care they were leaving tons of evidence for Stephen and the rest of the cops here either. What I do know is I don’t want to lead them back to where we are living and sleeping by taking off straight to there from my car. What I do know is I don’t want to run into them on the trail. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t wear my anti-machinegun armor today. That’s why we went so far out of our way, that’s why we are hiding here instead of continuing. We can’t ride safely without lights and we know how far away you can see lights out here at night. That’s why we are talking quietly. What I’m hoping is we stay here the night, stay hidden, eats some food, get some sleep, check the map in the morning and sneak our way back to the cabin to regroup and maybe find out what the hell is going on in the park.”
The other two sat there a little stunned. Barbara was usually not this talkative and definitely not this forceful when she was.
“Who made you the boss?” Randy asked, not in a mean way, but the question was out there now.
“Yeah, just because you’re banging boots with Stephen doesn’t make you in charge when he isn’t here.” Benji added.
“Either one of you got a better plan? Let’s hear it.”
Knighttemplar
Veteran Member
Dudes need to tone down the T and get with the program. Clueless with a capital C.
Great story MOAR please.
Great story MOAR please.
223shootersc
Veteran Member
Everybody gotta be in charge attitude, equals nothing getting done!
Thanks, CCG!
Thanks, CCG!
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Neither did.
Barbara opened one of the extra packs she had the other guys carry.
“OK, guys, here’s dinner.” She tossed them each a small brown plastic bag wrapped in tape.
“And these are?” Randy asked as he started unwrapping the tape.
“Military Rations, Meals-Ready-to-Eat.” Barbara said as she opened the other pack.
“Aren’t these normally bigger?” Benji asked.
“Yeah, but I went through, ditched all the extra cardboard boxes and extra crap I wouldn’t normally eat or use, then taped them back up. We can use the heaters to warm up the food. No fire tonight.”
Randy and Benji were sorting through the meals. Entrees, side dish, snack, spoon, heater and that’s about it. They noticed Barbara hadn’t opened hers yet.
“Aren’t you eating?” Benji asked.
“In a moment. Did you guys bring shelter stuff?”
Randy and Benji just looked at each other.
“Thought so. Here’s a couple ponchos and poncho liners.” Barbara tossed the bundles to them.
Barbara had her entrée in the heater and was sitting there watching Randy and Benji eating theirs. They had torn open the end and were using the long-handled spoon to reach into the packet. She just shook her head.
She cut hers along one of the long sides, squeezed a jalapeno cheese packet into the Spaghetti with Beef and Sauce and stirred it. Soon she was eating a hot meal, washed down with fresh spring water.
“You guys should have had shelter stuff. You’re about one dropped cell phone from a guest shot on one of those survival shows we laugh at.”
“Hey, we were just going to go shopping.” Benji tried to defend Randy and his own lack of planning. Barbara just shook her head.
“It’s like when you came off the payroll, you put your brains on the shelf for next year. With people hunting us, we have to treat it like the fire line. Never get separated from your packs, always have an eye on the fire, never sleep on the fire line, always be ready for the wind to change, and be ready to run.”
Benji looked embarrassed while Randy looked sheepish at Barbara’s rebuke. They knew she was right. She continued.
“If anything happens and we have to take off in the middle of the night, no flashlights, no yelling out.” She handed a large-scale topo map to each of them. “You guys do have a compass, don’t you?” More gasping fish looks.
“Right.” She reached into the front of the two packs they brought from her car and handed each of them a small wrist compass. ‘They aren’t great, but they should keep you on course. Remember where the peak behind the cabin is. Aim for that, then wait until dark and come down to the cabin after dark if we get split up with someone chasing us. If that happens, don’t, DON’T open any window blinds or doors with the lights on. We don’t want to bring trouble to the cabin at all costs.”
‘What about you?” Randy asked.
“I got a compass. I’ll get there sooner or later.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Benji said.
“You guys are faster, both on the bikes or on foot. It will take me longer, but I’ll be ok. I’ll get there.” She said as she was pulling something else from the bag she was carrying earlier. Randy and Benji were a little startled when they saw what she was doing.
She looked up from where she was threading the revolver and knife onto her belt.
“What? You didn’t bring one?”
“They’re at the cabin” Randy said for the both of them.
“What the hell good is a concealed carry permit if you don’t carry?” Barbara said.
“Well, that’s not very concealed.” Benji said.
“If they are close enough to see it, I got bigger problems.” Barbara said as she pulled a small puffy blanket from her own pack and lay down, the pack threaded backwards on her chest.
Barbara opened one of the extra packs she had the other guys carry.
“OK, guys, here’s dinner.” She tossed them each a small brown plastic bag wrapped in tape.
“And these are?” Randy asked as he started unwrapping the tape.
“Military Rations, Meals-Ready-to-Eat.” Barbara said as she opened the other pack.
“Aren’t these normally bigger?” Benji asked.
“Yeah, but I went through, ditched all the extra cardboard boxes and extra crap I wouldn’t normally eat or use, then taped them back up. We can use the heaters to warm up the food. No fire tonight.”
Randy and Benji were sorting through the meals. Entrees, side dish, snack, spoon, heater and that’s about it. They noticed Barbara hadn’t opened hers yet.
“Aren’t you eating?” Benji asked.
“In a moment. Did you guys bring shelter stuff?”
Randy and Benji just looked at each other.
“Thought so. Here’s a couple ponchos and poncho liners.” Barbara tossed the bundles to them.
Barbara had her entrée in the heater and was sitting there watching Randy and Benji eating theirs. They had torn open the end and were using the long-handled spoon to reach into the packet. She just shook her head.
She cut hers along one of the long sides, squeezed a jalapeno cheese packet into the Spaghetti with Beef and Sauce and stirred it. Soon she was eating a hot meal, washed down with fresh spring water.
“You guys should have had shelter stuff. You’re about one dropped cell phone from a guest shot on one of those survival shows we laugh at.”
“Hey, we were just going to go shopping.” Benji tried to defend Randy and his own lack of planning. Barbara just shook her head.
“It’s like when you came off the payroll, you put your brains on the shelf for next year. With people hunting us, we have to treat it like the fire line. Never get separated from your packs, always have an eye on the fire, never sleep on the fire line, always be ready for the wind to change, and be ready to run.”
Benji looked embarrassed while Randy looked sheepish at Barbara’s rebuke. They knew she was right. She continued.
“If anything happens and we have to take off in the middle of the night, no flashlights, no yelling out.” She handed a large-scale topo map to each of them. “You guys do have a compass, don’t you?” More gasping fish looks.
“Right.” She reached into the front of the two packs they brought from her car and handed each of them a small wrist compass. ‘They aren’t great, but they should keep you on course. Remember where the peak behind the cabin is. Aim for that, then wait until dark and come down to the cabin after dark if we get split up with someone chasing us. If that happens, don’t, DON’T open any window blinds or doors with the lights on. We don’t want to bring trouble to the cabin at all costs.”
‘What about you?” Randy asked.
“I got a compass. I’ll get there sooner or later.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Benji said.
“You guys are faster, both on the bikes or on foot. It will take me longer, but I’ll be ok. I’ll get there.” She said as she was pulling something else from the bag she was carrying earlier. Randy and Benji were a little startled when they saw what she was doing.
She looked up from where she was threading the revolver and knife onto her belt.
“What? You didn’t bring one?”
“They’re at the cabin” Randy said for the both of them.
“What the hell good is a concealed carry permit if you don’t carry?” Barbara said.
“Well, that’s not very concealed.” Benji said.
“If they are close enough to see it, I got bigger problems.” Barbara said as she pulled a small puffy blanket from her own pack and lay down, the pack threaded backwards on her chest.
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Out and about in the bush after a monumental natural disaster with nothing? Not even a poncho liner or any kind of weapons/tools?
That's not a poor attitude, it's lethally stupid.
Last edited:
beaglemama
Contributing Member
Are Randy and Benji wearing red shirts?
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
I wouldn’t worry too much. No headaches noted
223shootersc
Veteran Member
Thanks, CCG!
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Simple, purposeful tools are always welcome at my house.
A 4" K-frame or 586 and a stout blade are a great start.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Stainless 66 and a Puma White Hunter is the gear she belted on
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Had a white hunter until a "friend" dropped by when I was on the road; never saw him or the Puma again. I'm OK w/ a 66 except not shiny; just a preference.
Ms B seems an infinitely more aware/competent person than her wingers, particularly the Benji guy. Hopefully he's a quick study/takes direction well . . . . .
Last edited:
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Late in the Night
Her legs woke her up. They ached and the muscles were in knots. She looked around before she moved. She saw the guys huddled up under the ponchos and Poncho liners she loaned them, trying to stay warm. Shit! How did she get into this mess!
If she hadn’t had a small ‘breakdown’ bag for her and Stephen in the car, she wouldn’t have half the stuff she did to keep them going so they could get back to the cabin. She thought about what else she had crammed in those bags. It was all simple stuff; shelter, food, water and that was about it. She hadn’t put a wintertime travel bag into the car yet.
Why did they have to kill her car? It took her forever to find one that made her feel safe on the road again. Maybe she could get another engine and patch the hood once Stephen gets back, and we get all this craziness under control.
She looked over at the guys again. It wasn’t their fault, but it was. When they were all summer hires, they would have never thought about running around anywhere in the park without certain things, like a tarp, blanket or sleeping bag, some food and some water. With them just kicking back at the cabin, then the 'make a supply run', they seemed to just switch off their brains.
If they were staying here longer, she could get one of the flimsy-ass mylar space blankets from Stephen’s pack. They could cut a couple chunks off of it and wrap their torsos under their jackets. That would boost the warmth factor a lot without making too much noise or making it hard to move around. She’d tell them that idea in the morning and make sure they each had one.
Benji and Randy could each use one of the bags from the car. She knew she could press with what she already had on her. Hell, she could do with a lot less if she had to and she knew it. The bag with her wasn’t much bigger than a hydration carrier but she had some very useful items in there when they started and most of that she would transfer to her pockets when she got up, in case she got separated from her pack.
Her mind went through her pack as she lay there fighting against getting up. Meds, tiny tool kit, jacket, firestarters, compass, a couple granola bars, down throw blanket, water bottles. Damn it! Why did she have to do metal water bottles. They might be pretty and functional and fit in with the whole canvas and leather vibe she had going, but she had to keep them full so they didn’t ring like a gong every time they got the slightest bump! And shiny as all get out!
She couldn’t take it. She sat up and opened her pack. Digging around, she pulled out the zipper pouch she kept some travel meds in. She was after two things. The first she could find by touch. The diclofenac anti-inflammatory gel would help her legs some right away, but the other thing she needed would require a little light to sort through stuff.
What she really wanted was a muscle relaxant or a pain pill, but there was no way she was resorting to that in the field on the run without broken bones or dislocated joints. She would have to settle for a couple electrolyte tabs and maybe an aspirin. As soon as her mind said it, it corrected itself. No NSAIDs. This is now a combat zone until proven otherwise.
She laughed at herself. She already used some yesterday and it will take six weeks for her system to clear itself, so the therapeutic effects enabling her to get back to the cabin faster and easier far outweighed the potential interruption of her clotting cascade if she was hurt. Once she got back to the cabin, then she will worry about the NSAIDs and try to limit herself to acetaminophen for the aches and pains.
She went to work rubbing down her calves and thighs. She knew it would help, but not instantly. The rub down felt good even though it hurt. She knew it would have felt better if Stephen was the one doing it instead of her. Stop it! She commanded herself as she finished the second leg.
She unclipped the tiny light from inside the med pouch and swept it’s small green light over the labels on the baggies, the light never leaving the bag. Finding the one with her pain drugs, she dug out her aspirin. Well, it was more than aspirin. It also had acetaminophen and caffeine, great for a headache and body aches but not as good for sleeping. Two tablets and a long pull from her waterbottle. She added a pair of electrolyte capsules to her system next.
She checked her watch. Dawn was soon and it would get colder. She knew it was probably better to go ahead and wake the guys. They would be warmer moving than curled up here. They could walk the bikes until it was light enough they could ride. The walk would stretch her muscles too. They probably weren’t as sore as she was, but they just had to make it to the cabin. Then they could rest and recover as they planned their next steps. First, they had to get to the cabin. One step at a time.
Her legs woke her up. They ached and the muscles were in knots. She looked around before she moved. She saw the guys huddled up under the ponchos and Poncho liners she loaned them, trying to stay warm. Shit! How did she get into this mess!
If she hadn’t had a small ‘breakdown’ bag for her and Stephen in the car, she wouldn’t have half the stuff she did to keep them going so they could get back to the cabin. She thought about what else she had crammed in those bags. It was all simple stuff; shelter, food, water and that was about it. She hadn’t put a wintertime travel bag into the car yet.
Why did they have to kill her car? It took her forever to find one that made her feel safe on the road again. Maybe she could get another engine and patch the hood once Stephen gets back, and we get all this craziness under control.
She looked over at the guys again. It wasn’t their fault, but it was. When they were all summer hires, they would have never thought about running around anywhere in the park without certain things, like a tarp, blanket or sleeping bag, some food and some water. With them just kicking back at the cabin, then the 'make a supply run', they seemed to just switch off their brains.
If they were staying here longer, she could get one of the flimsy-ass mylar space blankets from Stephen’s pack. They could cut a couple chunks off of it and wrap their torsos under their jackets. That would boost the warmth factor a lot without making too much noise or making it hard to move around. She’d tell them that idea in the morning and make sure they each had one.
Benji and Randy could each use one of the bags from the car. She knew she could press with what she already had on her. Hell, she could do with a lot less if she had to and she knew it. The bag with her wasn’t much bigger than a hydration carrier but she had some very useful items in there when they started and most of that she would transfer to her pockets when she got up, in case she got separated from her pack.
Her mind went through her pack as she lay there fighting against getting up. Meds, tiny tool kit, jacket, firestarters, compass, a couple granola bars, down throw blanket, water bottles. Damn it! Why did she have to do metal water bottles. They might be pretty and functional and fit in with the whole canvas and leather vibe she had going, but she had to keep them full so they didn’t ring like a gong every time they got the slightest bump! And shiny as all get out!
She couldn’t take it. She sat up and opened her pack. Digging around, she pulled out the zipper pouch she kept some travel meds in. She was after two things. The first she could find by touch. The diclofenac anti-inflammatory gel would help her legs some right away, but the other thing she needed would require a little light to sort through stuff.
What she really wanted was a muscle relaxant or a pain pill, but there was no way she was resorting to that in the field on the run without broken bones or dislocated joints. She would have to settle for a couple electrolyte tabs and maybe an aspirin. As soon as her mind said it, it corrected itself. No NSAIDs. This is now a combat zone until proven otherwise.
She laughed at herself. She already used some yesterday and it will take six weeks for her system to clear itself, so the therapeutic effects enabling her to get back to the cabin faster and easier far outweighed the potential interruption of her clotting cascade if she was hurt. Once she got back to the cabin, then she will worry about the NSAIDs and try to limit herself to acetaminophen for the aches and pains.
She went to work rubbing down her calves and thighs. She knew it would help, but not instantly. The rub down felt good even though it hurt. She knew it would have felt better if Stephen was the one doing it instead of her. Stop it! She commanded herself as she finished the second leg.
She unclipped the tiny light from inside the med pouch and swept it’s small green light over the labels on the baggies, the light never leaving the bag. Finding the one with her pain drugs, she dug out her aspirin. Well, it was more than aspirin. It also had acetaminophen and caffeine, great for a headache and body aches but not as good for sleeping. Two tablets and a long pull from her waterbottle. She added a pair of electrolyte capsules to her system next.
She checked her watch. Dawn was soon and it would get colder. She knew it was probably better to go ahead and wake the guys. They would be warmer moving than curled up here. They could walk the bikes until it was light enough they could ride. The walk would stretch her muscles too. They probably weren’t as sore as she was, but they just had to make it to the cabin. Then they could rest and recover as they planned their next steps. First, they had to get to the cabin. One step at a time.
Last edited:
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Down South, Across I-10
It was chaotic but the police escort helped a lot. They wiggled, jiggled and maneuvered their way around several traffic jams until they made it through a gap in the freeway. Once on the other side, the female cop waved them forward. They finally had almost open road ahead of them.
The sun was up now, and they were in a slow moving line of cars headed through the desert headed north. Evidently, Stephen wasn’t the only one who could read a map. The most important part of all of this was they were moving.
Between the slow and erratic pace they had been driving, and the general age of the truck, their fuel supply was leaving them faster than expected. They kept their eyes out for a station that was open and hopefully had some fuel.
The first two they came to were closed with signs against the pumps declaring they had no fuel left. The next station was worse. All that was left was a burned and still smoking ruin, complete with a couple of cars and they weren’t sure, but there might have been a few bodies as well.
The next stop had several lines leading to the pumps. In between the lines were a couple people with pump shotguns. A sign behind them proclaimed a ten gallon maximum. Stephen decided it was like the old axiom about water in the desert. ‘Never pass an opportunity to top off your canteen.’
They sat in the line for over an hour until they were able to pull up to the pump. The whole process was going slower because they were only running one pump for each of the lines. This was to give better control.
Stephen pulled up to position to pump. Gabe was the one getting out to pump the fuel while Stephen paid the man in advance. At least it wasn’t thirty-five dollars a gallon here. Just a respectable twelve dollars a gallon instead.
Stephen was looking over at Samantha when they heard some sort of fight break out, punctuated by screams about the ten gallon limit, about how he had to have more, the attendant shutting off the pump as the man tried to get more, and it didn’t take long before shots were fired.
“Get in, Gabe. We’re out of here!” Stephen screamed.
As soon as Gabe’s ass hit the seat, Stephen hit the gas. He had no intention of sticking around there. Once they were a few miles down the road, Stephen glanced at the gas gauge. It looked more full than ten gallons should have filled.
“How much did you get in?”
“About ten before the shooting began, and another five once it started.” Gabe replied, still short of breath.
Stephen didn’t know what to say. He wanted to chastise his little brother for taking such a risk, but he was too happy to have extended the miles they could go before they had to find their next fueling point. At least right now they should make Barstow.
It was chaotic but the police escort helped a lot. They wiggled, jiggled and maneuvered their way around several traffic jams until they made it through a gap in the freeway. Once on the other side, the female cop waved them forward. They finally had almost open road ahead of them.
The sun was up now, and they were in a slow moving line of cars headed through the desert headed north. Evidently, Stephen wasn’t the only one who could read a map. The most important part of all of this was they were moving.
Between the slow and erratic pace they had been driving, and the general age of the truck, their fuel supply was leaving them faster than expected. They kept their eyes out for a station that was open and hopefully had some fuel.
The first two they came to were closed with signs against the pumps declaring they had no fuel left. The next station was worse. All that was left was a burned and still smoking ruin, complete with a couple of cars and they weren’t sure, but there might have been a few bodies as well.
The next stop had several lines leading to the pumps. In between the lines were a couple people with pump shotguns. A sign behind them proclaimed a ten gallon maximum. Stephen decided it was like the old axiom about water in the desert. ‘Never pass an opportunity to top off your canteen.’
They sat in the line for over an hour until they were able to pull up to the pump. The whole process was going slower because they were only running one pump for each of the lines. This was to give better control.
Stephen pulled up to position to pump. Gabe was the one getting out to pump the fuel while Stephen paid the man in advance. At least it wasn’t thirty-five dollars a gallon here. Just a respectable twelve dollars a gallon instead.
Stephen was looking over at Samantha when they heard some sort of fight break out, punctuated by screams about the ten gallon limit, about how he had to have more, the attendant shutting off the pump as the man tried to get more, and it didn’t take long before shots were fired.
“Get in, Gabe. We’re out of here!” Stephen screamed.
As soon as Gabe’s ass hit the seat, Stephen hit the gas. He had no intention of sticking around there. Once they were a few miles down the road, Stephen glanced at the gas gauge. It looked more full than ten gallons should have filled.
“How much did you get in?”
“About ten before the shooting began, and another five once it started.” Gabe replied, still short of breath.
Stephen didn’t know what to say. He wanted to chastise his little brother for taking such a risk, but he was too happy to have extended the miles they could go before they had to find their next fueling point. At least right now they should make Barstow.
223shootersc
Veteran Member
Better to ask forgiveness than permission in some cases! Thanks, CCG!
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
North, in the Woods
“Remember, a chain apart, and we come to any clearing or open spots, we don’t just go across them. We have to be careful. Anybody spot something fishy, point it out but be quiet about it. We get jumped, we all split ninety degrees of our rout of travel and go at least two or three miles before turning back towards the cabin, unless you know you’re being followed, then do everything you can to lose them before you even think about going towards the cabin.”
Benji and Randy just looked at Barbara. They were still cold and tired. Barbara looked fresh as a daisy and full of energy.
“Sounds like you have this all planned out.” Randy said when Barbara stopped talking.
“Not hardly, but some. I split up the rest of the food. There’s a whole MRE in each of your bags and the water bladder in both are full. Use them last in case you have to leave your bike. So, use the bottles on the bikes first.”
“What are we going to do?” Benji asked.
“Well, right now we are going to get moving back towards the cabin, then we will worry about what’s next.”
Randy and Benji shared a look between them, a look that asked ‘who is this person?’
“Remember, a chain apart, and we come to any clearing or open spots, we don’t just go across them. We have to be careful. Anybody spot something fishy, point it out but be quiet about it. We get jumped, we all split ninety degrees of our rout of travel and go at least two or three miles before turning back towards the cabin, unless you know you’re being followed, then do everything you can to lose them before you even think about going towards the cabin.”
Benji and Randy just looked at Barbara. They were still cold and tired. Barbara looked fresh as a daisy and full of energy.
“Sounds like you have this all planned out.” Randy said when Barbara stopped talking.
“Not hardly, but some. I split up the rest of the food. There’s a whole MRE in each of your bags and the water bladder in both are full. Use them last in case you have to leave your bike. So, use the bottles on the bikes first.”
“What are we going to do?” Benji asked.
“Well, right now we are going to get moving back towards the cabin, then we will worry about what’s next.”
Randy and Benji shared a look between them, a look that asked ‘who is this person?’
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
On the Road North
“This is worse than Friday night on the ten.” Sam said as she looked around at the snarl of chaos on the roads as they were inching their way towards Barstow. They had finally made their way through the valleys into the high desert but were now stuck on another desert road, along with what seemed like another hundred thousand cars, all full of people trying to get somewhere.
“I was hoping we could cut across between Barstow and Victorville and head up the Central Valley while everyone was trying to escape to Vegas on the fifteen or Arizona on the forty.” Stephen said as the line of cars barely inched forward.
“At least we know they won’t be doing a curfew out here with this many cars on the move and nowhere to put them.” Gabriel said from the back seat.
“Tell you what. Why don’t you sack out back there Gabe. After you’ve had a decent nap, we can swap you into the driver’s seat while Sam or I catch some ZZZs.”
“If I do that, what’s the plan from there?”
“We can keep hot swapping for the evening until either a not overflowing rest stop comes up and we can all get a bite and some rest, or we break free of this traffic and make a good run into the Central Vally and find a better overnight lay up point.”
“How about fuel?” Sam asked.
“Still pretty good all things considered, but we need to keep an eye out for somewhere that has more.”
They all settled back down into their new routines as the truck inched down the road.
“This is worse than Friday night on the ten.” Sam said as she looked around at the snarl of chaos on the roads as they were inching their way towards Barstow. They had finally made their way through the valleys into the high desert but were now stuck on another desert road, along with what seemed like another hundred thousand cars, all full of people trying to get somewhere.
“I was hoping we could cut across between Barstow and Victorville and head up the Central Valley while everyone was trying to escape to Vegas on the fifteen or Arizona on the forty.” Stephen said as the line of cars barely inched forward.
“At least we know they won’t be doing a curfew out here with this many cars on the move and nowhere to put them.” Gabriel said from the back seat.
“Tell you what. Why don’t you sack out back there Gabe. After you’ve had a decent nap, we can swap you into the driver’s seat while Sam or I catch some ZZZs.”
“If I do that, what’s the plan from there?”
“We can keep hot swapping for the evening until either a not overflowing rest stop comes up and we can all get a bite and some rest, or we break free of this traffic and make a good run into the Central Vally and find a better overnight lay up point.”
“How about fuel?” Sam asked.
“Still pretty good all things considered, but we need to keep an eye out for somewhere that has more.”
They all settled back down into their new routines as the truck inched down the road.
223shootersc
Veteran Member
Thanks, CCG! Sleep when you can and eat when you can!
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Later
Barstow was an eyeopener. The sense of chaos was still there, but it had another layer to it. There were, for the first time, a lot of military, fire, and police vehicles moving around, controlling traffic, shutting down lanes and diverting the masses. It pushed the congestion to new heights. It reminded all three of them of the news stories coming out of the Gulf Coast with impending hurricanes.
Their one saving grace was they weren’t trying to go east. Those roads would probably still be clogged come Christmas. One of the more ominous signs they saw were some people pushing an electric car out of the travel lane. That spelled the end of any lingering wishes any of them had for being in the car instead of the truck.
Once they were free of the logjam, the road held maybe a quarter of what it did earlier. Now they were able to move at greater than ten miles an hour, sometimes. One of their happiest sights was a small picnic pullout that wasn’t overrun. Here’s where they stopped to both give the truck a rest and themselves. They had a roadmap spread out on the hood, tracing their next plans.
They wanted to get out of the crush, but not too far from civilization. The next big landmark would be Bakersfield. Once they got past that, they could cruise up one of the three state highways and avoid Interstate Five. This would hopefully keep them free of most of the idiots.
As they got ready to settle in for some rest, their conversations turned to safety.
“Guys, with us having a full pickup, we have to worry about others wanting what we have. Some of these people will be getting desperate soon, or see an opportunity to take shit when the cops can’t respond. That’s another reason I’ll nap on the bed of the truck, but I want you two to be safe in the truck if I don’t stop them in time.”
“What are you thinking?” Gabriel asked.
“Well, I have Dad’s pistols, and I was going to make sure one of you had one of them in the cab while I had the other out here…”
“Shit! He left guns? Where were they hidden? I thought Mom got rid of them all.” Gabe said as Sam just smiled.
“They were hidden behind the pegboard in the workshop, but that’s not import now.”
“Behind the pegboard? That ****er was bolted to the wall and there was shit behind it?” Gabe was still worked up.
“Yup, and it was on a hinge so I just opened it up. Now, focus.” Stephen turned to Samantha, who was still just smiled.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got Mom’s pistol, so I’m good.”
“Mom’s pistol?” Stephen asked just before Gabe’s question.
“I thought Mom hated guns! Mom had a pistol?”
“Mom did, but she still had the one Dad gave her. She gave it to me when that girl vanished from campus last year.” Sam answered them both.
“Do you have it with you and is it loaded?” Stephen asked.
Sam zipped open one of the pouches of her day pack at her feet and pulled out a pistol.
“May I?” Stephen held out his hand.
“Sure.”
Stephen looked at the revolver in his hands, careful to keep it under the level of where anyone outside the truck could see it.
It was short and heavy and obviously no longer factory. It had a hammer shroud and a wedge of metal on the front of the grip. The wedge made the grip fit his hand well. He loked down the sights and saw a huge chunk of orange in the front sight, similar to the sights in the Combat Commander at his waist. The metal was dark grey and slick to the touch, like the refinished metal on the takedown twenty-two. He looked a little closer. Colt Detective was the markings on the barrel. The walnut grips were smooth, the checkering worn down.
He could see his father working on this as a tool to protect his mother. From looking at the other guns he worked on, and the attention to detail he knew his father to have, it may as well have his signature in big red letters.
He opened the cylinder and dumped one of the bullets into his hand. Something didn’t look right. The casing felt full but there was no bullet beyond the bass case. He turned it and looked into the end. There was the bullet, flush with the brass. It was an old school target load.
“Why these bullets?” Stephen asked Samantha.
“Mom said these were what Dad tuned the gun for. It shoots soft and punches a clean hole in the paper, and Mom said Dad told her it would do the same in people if she had to use it.’
“I guess it would. Do you have more ammo?”
“Six boxes and two of those leather strips to hold a set of reloads.”
“I guess you are set, then.” He turned to Gabe.
“OK, Gabe. Have you shot a pistol before?”
“Yeah, I went to the range a few times.”
“Well, until you and I can do a bit of target practice and I can show you how to work this better, I want you to only mess with this in a true emergency.”
Stephen pulled out the Detonics Combat Master. He went through the steps of taking the safety off, releasing the slide and reloading. When Gabe showed him he could do the steps, Stephen took it back and loaded it.
"Round in chamber, hammer back, safety on. This is the way you carry it. Ready to go. All you do is thumb the safety off, and pull the trigger. As soon as what you need shot is done, safety back on before anything else is done with the pistol. Got me?”
“Got it.”
“Now. Both of you tuck the hardware out of sight and lets get some sleep. Remember, if you guys hear anything. Use your ears, then your eyes, then your hands. Don’t draw your pistols unless you have to shoot someone. They aren’t for scaring anyone. They are for shooting someone. It should be a surprise to whoever is on the receiving end. We good?”
Sam and Gabe nodded.
“Good. I’ll be right outside. Get some sleep.”
Barstow was an eyeopener. The sense of chaos was still there, but it had another layer to it. There were, for the first time, a lot of military, fire, and police vehicles moving around, controlling traffic, shutting down lanes and diverting the masses. It pushed the congestion to new heights. It reminded all three of them of the news stories coming out of the Gulf Coast with impending hurricanes.
Their one saving grace was they weren’t trying to go east. Those roads would probably still be clogged come Christmas. One of the more ominous signs they saw were some people pushing an electric car out of the travel lane. That spelled the end of any lingering wishes any of them had for being in the car instead of the truck.
Once they were free of the logjam, the road held maybe a quarter of what it did earlier. Now they were able to move at greater than ten miles an hour, sometimes. One of their happiest sights was a small picnic pullout that wasn’t overrun. Here’s where they stopped to both give the truck a rest and themselves. They had a roadmap spread out on the hood, tracing their next plans.
They wanted to get out of the crush, but not too far from civilization. The next big landmark would be Bakersfield. Once they got past that, they could cruise up one of the three state highways and avoid Interstate Five. This would hopefully keep them free of most of the idiots.
As they got ready to settle in for some rest, their conversations turned to safety.
“Guys, with us having a full pickup, we have to worry about others wanting what we have. Some of these people will be getting desperate soon, or see an opportunity to take shit when the cops can’t respond. That’s another reason I’ll nap on the bed of the truck, but I want you two to be safe in the truck if I don’t stop them in time.”
“What are you thinking?” Gabriel asked.
“Well, I have Dad’s pistols, and I was going to make sure one of you had one of them in the cab while I had the other out here…”
“Shit! He left guns? Where were they hidden? I thought Mom got rid of them all.” Gabe said as Sam just smiled.
“They were hidden behind the pegboard in the workshop, but that’s not import now.”
“Behind the pegboard? That ****er was bolted to the wall and there was shit behind it?” Gabe was still worked up.
“Yup, and it was on a hinge so I just opened it up. Now, focus.” Stephen turned to Samantha, who was still just smiled.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got Mom’s pistol, so I’m good.”
“Mom’s pistol?” Stephen asked just before Gabe’s question.
“I thought Mom hated guns! Mom had a pistol?”
“Mom did, but she still had the one Dad gave her. She gave it to me when that girl vanished from campus last year.” Sam answered them both.
“Do you have it with you and is it loaded?” Stephen asked.
Sam zipped open one of the pouches of her day pack at her feet and pulled out a pistol.
“May I?” Stephen held out his hand.
“Sure.”
Stephen looked at the revolver in his hands, careful to keep it under the level of where anyone outside the truck could see it.
It was short and heavy and obviously no longer factory. It had a hammer shroud and a wedge of metal on the front of the grip. The wedge made the grip fit his hand well. He loked down the sights and saw a huge chunk of orange in the front sight, similar to the sights in the Combat Commander at his waist. The metal was dark grey and slick to the touch, like the refinished metal on the takedown twenty-two. He looked a little closer. Colt Detective was the markings on the barrel. The walnut grips were smooth, the checkering worn down.
He could see his father working on this as a tool to protect his mother. From looking at the other guns he worked on, and the attention to detail he knew his father to have, it may as well have his signature in big red letters.
He opened the cylinder and dumped one of the bullets into his hand. Something didn’t look right. The casing felt full but there was no bullet beyond the bass case. He turned it and looked into the end. There was the bullet, flush with the brass. It was an old school target load.
“Why these bullets?” Stephen asked Samantha.
“Mom said these were what Dad tuned the gun for. It shoots soft and punches a clean hole in the paper, and Mom said Dad told her it would do the same in people if she had to use it.’
“I guess it would. Do you have more ammo?”
“Six boxes and two of those leather strips to hold a set of reloads.”
“I guess you are set, then.” He turned to Gabe.
“OK, Gabe. Have you shot a pistol before?”
“Yeah, I went to the range a few times.”
“Well, until you and I can do a bit of target practice and I can show you how to work this better, I want you to only mess with this in a true emergency.”
Stephen pulled out the Detonics Combat Master. He went through the steps of taking the safety off, releasing the slide and reloading. When Gabe showed him he could do the steps, Stephen took it back and loaded it.
"Round in chamber, hammer back, safety on. This is the way you carry it. Ready to go. All you do is thumb the safety off, and pull the trigger. As soon as what you need shot is done, safety back on before anything else is done with the pistol. Got me?”
“Got it.”
“Now. Both of you tuck the hardware out of sight and lets get some sleep. Remember, if you guys hear anything. Use your ears, then your eyes, then your hands. Don’t draw your pistols unless you have to shoot someone. They aren’t for scaring anyone. They are for shooting someone. It should be a surprise to whoever is on the receiving end. We good?”
Sam and Gabe nodded.
“Good. I’ll be right outside. Get some sleep.”
223shootersc
Veteran Member
Jerry Ahern would be proud! Thanks, CCG!
Armadillo3
Member
I inherited a Colt Agent that was my brother in laws backup gun when he was the Chief of Police in my little village.
I gave him armor piercing .38 Special ammo from Fiocchi that I had carried in my Model 15 Combat Masterpiece in the Air Force in the 80's.
Good little gun that I still carry once in a while for CCW.
I gave him armor piercing .38 Special ammo from Fiocchi that I had carried in my Model 15 Combat Masterpiece in the Air Force in the 80's.
Good little gun that I still carry once in a while for CCW.