Story Market Day

larry_minn

Contributing Member
On fuel. If using fuel tanks. They have pumps in them. You do not need the return. So a hose, two wire power cord could be run to a tank. Main tank gets to under 50% you turn on fuel pump, plumbed into fill area. Watch gauge after it gets to 7/8 you turn off aux pump. *no sense running over* just turn on again later. That tank empty? Move hose, wire to next tank pump. Yes it will take a long time. But power *almost* free. You keep constant full tank, no need to stop more then you likely will for bathroom, to check threats. No obvious gas cans.
 

ComCamGuy

Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Elsewhere


The surprise was total. One minute they were riding along, headed back to the house. The next minute, Dave was down, a half-stifled scream marking his location. Stephen had no idea what happened, but he knew he had to do something.

Stephen dove off his bike to the side of the path or game trail they were traveling on. Once he was down, he looked back at Dave. Dave was off his bike, rolled up in a ball on his side.

“Dave?” No answer. “Dave, what happened?” No answer. He started making his way back to him. When he got there, Dave was making guttural growling sounds as he rocked back and forth. Stephen looked around, trying to piece things together.

His bike was down, the front wheel bent into a pretzel. Stephen looked farther back. There was some sort of pit that Dave hit. He scrambled over to Dave and started to check him out for damage.

“Tel me where it hurts.”

Dave used one of his hands to point to the left side of his chest as his other hand and arm was wrapped around his torso. He seemed to be trying to talk, but nothing was coming out but painful gasps and growls.

“Come on, deep breaths, slow and steady.” Stephen said as he slid his hands up under Dave’s shirt, trying to feel the damage. He started low on the abdomen and worked his way up. He knew when he got to the right spot. Dave about came unglued. Ribs.

Stephen let out a sigh of relief. Make no mistake, broken ribs sucked, but at least it wasn’t lower. If it was something in the abdomen like stomach, spleen or liver, Dave would have been shit out of luck. Injury to any one of those would require a surgeon.

“OK, Looks like you have some cracked or broken ribs,” Stephen paused when Dave glared at him, the unsaid words of ‘no shit!’ obvious on his face.

“Like I was saying, cracked or broken ribs. Right now, I’m going to go check out the why. Don’t go anywhere.”

Stephen walked back down their trail. What he found wasn’t good. There was a square hole in the trail. Nature usually doesn’t do squares. He looked closer. The hole was a good eighteen inches deep or more. Inside the rim of the hole was a loop of cord or cable.

He had seen things like this before. Pit snare used for larger game. Alarm bells went off in his head. These types of traps have to be checked frequently. How often is this one checked and by who? How old is this trap? Is the person who set it still around?

Stephen looked closer at the trap. This wasn’t some old leftover. Another detail caught his eye. A small piece of string or fishing line against the inside of the pit. He followed it. It went out of the pit, across the trail, and off into the grass and brush on the side of the trail. The first thing his brain thought was ‘signal’. He moved quickly back to Dave.

“Dave, can you move off the trail and hide. The hole you hit was a pit trap set by someone. It has a line to let them know when it’s tripped. I need to go find them before they find us.”

Dave just nodded and started dragging himself off into the bushes.

Stephen went back to the pit. He had a string to follow.
 

ComCamGuy

Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
On fuel. If using fuel tanks. They have pumps in them. You do not need the return. So a hose, two wire power cord could be run to a tank. Main tank gets to under 50% you turn on fuel pump, plumbed into fill area. Watch gauge after it gets to 7/8 you turn off aux pump. *no sense running over* just turn on again later. That tank empty? Move hose, wire to next tank pump. Yes it will take a long time. But power *almost* free. You keep constant full tank, no need to stop more then you likely will for bathroom, to check threats. No obvious gas cans.


The ones in the van are already wired as second tanks. The others are bolted under the trailers and they don't want fuel lines running from the trailers to the vans. Bill is looking for straight mechanical solution from the outset to avoid having something going wrong on the road. A spigot to drain the tank without dropping it will be a great backup if they decide to energize the pumps and it doesn't work. If they were doing this more often, then the pump would be a good plan.
 
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ComCamGuy

Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Deep in the Fields


It didn’t take long for Stephen to follow the string. He tried to move quickly and quietly but his focus was on speed. He wanted to intercept anyone coming to investigate the trap well away from where Dave was. Dave had broken ribs at the least and wouldn’t be up to any sort of fight. That’s ok, Stephen was.

He hated traps. The use of traps was cruel to the animals. Leg hold traps were horrible. The idea was repulsive to him. It was the core of one of the few fights he had with Barbara. Barbara was teaching a class to visitors about snares and how to build them. It was right out of the guide books and what was on the summer schedule. His problem with it was she was actually teaching them how they work and how to build them instead of what he normally did, which was to spin the class into an anti-trapping lesson.

Barbara held that it was a simple and effective way to harvest game. Stephen was vehemently opposed. Barbara pointed out she only ever used deadfall and squirrel pole traps, both of which dispatched their prey quickly. Stephen still didn’t like it and made sure he was the one giving snare classes from then on for the summer sessions.

Now here he was in the dark, hunting for someone whose trap got Dave badly hurt. It was either a leg hold trap for larger animals or for people, either of which was bad since they entailed someone coming back later to deal with a caught and pissed off creature.

The string went straight, but the terrain didn’t have a trail it followed. It made it tough to track, but Stephen wasn’t going to let it beat him. As he moved along, he kept listening, both to keep an eye on his own noise and to try to detect anyone else moving out there.

Something caught his eye. Another thread, headed the same direction. He scanned some more. Three, no four. They all were headed to the same point. At least from the angle of the strings, he was getting close.

The strings converged on a short pole next to a ravine. The strings ran over some small protrusions made smooth with parts of beer cans. From here they went across into a small opening on the far side of the ravine. Now he just had to figure out his next step.
 

larry_minn

Contributing Member
If he has man traps. Set up like a spider with alert strings leading to his/her *parlor* there is a good chance there is another trap.
I disagree with Stephen. Traps for survival. I care less for animal. reduce Animal suffering. But if I need food To survive. I find out trainer’s crap reduces my chances. I wonder what else I have been shorted on?
 

ComCamGuy

Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
If he has man traps. Set up like a spider with alert strings leading to his/her *parlor* there is a good chance there is another trap.
I disagree with Stephen. Traps for survival. I care less for animal. reduce Animal suffering. But if I need food To survive. I find out trainer’s crap reduces my chances. I wonder what else I have been shorted on?

Understand and agree. Survival? Traps will be used if necessary. I agree with Barbara that when possible, sudden and lethal is best, both for the animal (more humane) and to minimize chance for escape and or harm when I come to collect the food.

Stephen's classes were focused on observation, picking the right spots to make the most of it and and the history of trapping and snares and how the early trappers helped open up the West. He would show the figure four trigger and such. The thing to remember, the classes were free presentations by the Ranger staff for summer tourists, folded into the overall conservation and preservation theme. They also gave them on the mechanics of forest fires, all about how the smaller ones cleared the undergrowth and kept the trees from being choked out, how the heat was necessary for some species of plant to grow and spread.

Differing opinions on what and how to teach happen all the time and Barbara and Stephen come from two different viewpoints on it
 

ComCamGuy

Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Later, Next to the Trail


Dave’s whole world was focused on his next breath. In. Out. Every one of them a fight against the pain. He learned quickly to make each breath slow and steady. A quick breath could set off coughing, followed by a cascade of pain. Oh, how he had missed the hole!

The front of his bike went into the hole and stopped suddenly. Instantly he was thrown forward, right into the handlebars. It felt like he had been shot or whacked by a baseball bat. His breathing had stopped, that first hit stunning him with it’s suddenness and the overwhelming pain. He wasn’t sure exactly what happened next other than he hit the ground, knocking out what little wind he had in him.

He had lain there for what seemed like forever before Stephen came to him and checked him out. Stephen said he broke at least two or three ribs, maybe more. Dave could do nothing but lay there and cure his luck. His luck didn’t get any better when Stephen yelled for him to crawl off the trail and hide.

Every pull and push he did to get his body away from the game trail started and ended with stabs of pain. Every breath, every bump and every twist was pain. Finally, Dave knew he could go no further. All he could do was lay there and wait for Stephen, and wait, and wait.

It was near dawn when he could hear movement. Someone or something moving in the grass around him.

“Dave.” A soft voice called to him.

“Here.” He croaked.

Moments later, Stephen was there.

“How are you doing?”

“Lousy.” Dave groaned. Even this outburst hurt.

“It’s almost dawn. We got two choices. We start moving towards the house now, or we wait til nightfall.” Stephen said.

“Did you take care of whatever?”

“Kinda.”

“Do we have to worry about them coming back?”

“No. We just have to worry about if there are any others out here other than us.”

“You got anything to help with the pain?”

“A little bit. It should take the edge off.”

“Unless you have a good reason for us to go in daylight and risk everyone else, I guess we stay.”

“Sounds like the smart play, Dave. I’ll get us some food going. When it gets dusk, I send you back to the house on my bike. Walking out will jar your ribs too much. With the suspension on my bike, you should be able to get home in no time.”

“You make that sound like you’re not coming.”

“I am, but I have to clean up a mess or two left behind.”
 

ComCamGuy

Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Bills House


“How much longer do we wait?” Elsa asked Bill as they stood in the yard. It had been dark for a couple hours now with no sign of Stephen and Dave.

Bill looked at his watch. “Midnight. If we haven’t heard anything by midnight, you can go as far as the old cow trail.”

“Shit! I could go that far now!”

“It wouldn’t do any good. The moon won’t be up til midnight, and you won’t be able to see anything.”

Bill watched Elsa pace about He knew how she felt. He wanted answers too.


Later


Elsa was out the gate at three seconds after midnight. She jogged all the way to the cow trail. She would have gone faster, but her trips with Stephen had taught her to be careful in the dark. She couldn’t afford a turned ankle now.

All the way to the trail she was constantly scanning, looking for clues. None were there to be found. She looked around. She wanted to go further, needed to find out what happened, had to know.

There was a little too much wind to hear anything and although the moon was up, her vision still didn’t reach that far. At least she was out here doing something! Yeah, making a fool out of herself, that’s what. She really didn’t find out anything more, and here she wasn’t finishing their preps to leave as soon as they got back.

There was the hook. They were in a holding pattern until they knew if the fuel was still there. They had to wait. If they didn’t know by morning? She may as well head back to the house. She had to talk to Uncle Bill and the others. If they didn’t know something by morning, she would pitch the idea of a daylight sweep to get answers. They had to know one way or the other about the fuel, and they had to know what happened to Stephen and Dave.
 

ComCamGuy

Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Elsa was almost back to the house when she heard something behind her, followed by someone saying her name. She spun around. It was Dave, on a bicycle. It was just Dave.

“Where’s Stephen?” Elsa asked, but Dave didn’t answer her. He rode on past her into the driveway. Elsa took off running. By the time she got to the house, Bill was helping Dave off of the bike.

“Where’s Stephen?” Elsa asked again.

“He’ll be here.” Dave said. He took another slow deliberate breath. “He’s walking.” Another slow breath before he spoke. “He had to take care of something.”

“What happened?” Bill asked Dave.

“Hit a hole.” Deep breath. “Crashed.” Deep breath. “Broke some ribs.” Now Dave was just standing there, one had on his ribs and a look of agony on his face.

“Let’s get you inside.” Bill said as he slipped an arm around his brother.

“What about Stephen?” Elsa asked their retreating forms. Without turning around, Bill answered her.

“You heard him. Stephen’s coming but he’s walking. He’ll be fine. You two walked from the store to here before.”

Elsa looked from Bill and Dave back out to the dark countryside.
 

ComCamGuy

Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
The Night Before, Out on the Hillside


The body in the cave hurt him to look at. He was always the empathetic type. He had found or recovered bodies before in the forest. It was all part of the job, after all. Sometime during the winter, this guy had found himself a sheltered place out of the weather, set up a good way to collect food (whether Stephen agreed with the method or not, it was effective when done right) and somewhere along the line, he had screwed up.

The guy had half a dozen signal lines leading out to, he assumed, a series of traps, all working for his food needs. He had shelter from the wind by being below the surrounding terrain. Any fire he would set wouldn’t be out in the open. There was the remains of a windbreak or door at the mouth of this little cave in the ravine. Overall, this looked like a nice little set up, maybe. So, what went wrong?

Stephen had followed what was left of a small trail down into the ravine and across to the cave to find him. Now in the dugout, he used his little red LED to examine things more. There wasn’t much left of the flesh, and even some of the bone was gnawed on by bugs and rodents. The clothes were decent quality and would have served him well enough. There was a sleeping bag under him, and another one wadded up behind him to lean against. Stephen looked some more. He wanted to know why this guy, who had the skills and presence of mind to make a set up like this, was dead in this dugout. He knew he might not get an answer, but he had to look.

Two sleeping bags was the first puzzle for him. His beam swept along the rest of the dugout. Right away, he saw the small firepit/stove. It was made out of several cinderblocks and should have provided good heat once it was going. Next to it was a hodge-podge of mis-matched utensils a cooking pot and some plates.

Stephen looked some more. Something wasn’t adding up. He looked back at the body. Two sleeping bags. He looked at the dishes. He looked at the insides of the dugout, then back at the body. He was missing it. He looked closer at the body. He closed one eye and activated the second setting on the light, bringing forth the white light. There!

The jacket had a hole in it. He reached out and pulled aside the jacket, exposing the shirt underneath. The hole went on through the shirt and was surrounded by a rust-colored stain masked by the red light. Stephen released the pressure on the light, returning to the red light and opened his closed eye. He could still see well enough with the one eye, and he knew the dark adaption would return in the other soon enough.

The more he searched, the more he found. There was another hole, this time in one of the pants legs. Stephen felt the leg and found one of the lower bones was broken near where the hole was. Either of these two could have been the showstopper or not, but the two together were probably what spelled his demise. This led to the bigger questions of who shot him and where were they?

He searched some more. There was enough stuff in the dugout to maybe be for two people. Was this a falling out between them? If so, where was the other one? The searching continued. He knew there was more here. Too much evidence otherwise.

It was in the jacket pockets he found the other pieces he just knew had to be there. In one pocket he found a multi-tool. That would have been what he used to construct the traps and everything else. The other pocket he found some loose pistol rounds. They felt like thirty-eight rounds.

His hands went under the sleeping bags now. He found the pistol. He couldn’t tell what kind of revolver it was. He dumped it in his pocket, along with the rounds and the multi-tool. He needed to go. He had to get back to Dave and get him moving towards the house. All of this here was months-old history and they had things to do. Whoever shot this guy was long gone. He looked around one last time. His eye caught an inconsistency.

Stephen looked at the rack where the signal lines came into the dugout. Each of them had a bottle with a pebble or a can on the end of it to make noise. One of them was different. He looked at what was different.

It hung lower. He looked at the bottle. It had a pink butterfly hairclip on the neck. None of the others had any sort of decorations. Why? He left the dugout and followed that thread. Across the ravine and out along the hillside he went. Why he didn’t know, but he had to follow it.
 

ComCamGuy

Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Stephen moved along in the brush following the string, the one from the bottle with the hairclip, all the while he was having a debate with himself. He didn’t know if it was in his head or out loud.

“What are you doing? This makes no sense. All of this happened months ago. What does it matter now? You need to get back to Dave and get going. You’re going to run out of night. Daylight will be here soon. It’s just Dave’s ribs. That’s going to suck whether he’s out here or back at the house. You’re already out here. If you’re going to, better just do it.”

The thread he was following kept going and he followed it. He was beginning to see a faint…something? It wasn’t a trail, or at least not a real one. The grass and shrubs looked broken or pushed aside when he stopped to see what he was getting hints of. When he turned around and looked back towards the ravine it was more obvious. It looked like something had come through here headed back towards the ravine, pushing through the grass and brush, but not recently. He kept moving.

Stephen didn’t know what he would find at the end of the thread. He tried to match a few things from his experiences, but it just wouldn’t come into focus to him. One thing for sure. He wasn’t turning back now.

Stephen knew he had arrived. The thread dipped down towards a small clearing in the brush. His eyes tried to pick out details before he moved closer. A stint in the southwest down on the border gave him experience in puzzling out what was before him. He walked closer.

The thread went towards what most would see as a small pile of trash or somebody’s castoffs. Stephen knew better. Well, it was something left like trash or a castoff, but not the way most would see it. He knelt down next to the body. A pale pink sun-bleached fleece jacket and torn ratty blue jeans were the biggest things he could identify.

The creatures had taken most of her, but there was enough to make out the important things. He tried to be careful, only move as little as he could to get the answers he needed, had to have. The puzzle was becoming clearer, or at least one plausible story.

He found her pistol in the dirt next to her. A quick check told him two things. It was an old small caliber thing, .380 or 32 ACP, and it was empty. He even saw a few casings in the sand. He picked one of them up and dropped it in his pocket, along with the gun.

The other thing he found was the wire snare. It was wrapped around her neck, pulled tight, almost to the bone. He squatted there next to her, looking back the direction he had come. He could see it now, a whole story playing in his head. Whether it was the true one or not, it’s how he would always think of it.

She had been staying with him. They had a falling out and she ran or left or snuck out. He chased her. She tried to stop him. She shot him, but it didn’t kill him outright, or at least not immediately. He caught her and strangled her with the snare, then drug his ass back to his cave and died.

Stephen looked down at the woman he would never know.

“He didn’t get away with it. You got him.”

Stephen pulled the wire from around what was left of her neck.

“You made it. You’re free.”

Stephen felt the sadness wash over him. He just knelt there and cried for he didn’t know how long.

The wind made the grass rustle. Stephen looked up. The sky was beginning to lighten. He had to get back to Dave.

“I’ll be back. You rest now.”
 

ComCamGuy

Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Bill’s House Near Dawn


Elsa was out in the front yard, sitting against one of the trees. OK, sleeping. She had fallen asleep waiting. All her energy was gone after all the running around and worry of the last couple days. She felt fingers in her hair.

“Sweetheart, go to bed. You need your sleep.”

She wasn’t sure who’s voice it was, but she knew who it sounded like. She struggled to wake up, to open her eyes. The hand in her hair slid to the side of her face. He eyes fluttered open. She was staring up into Stephen’s face, his eyes wet with tears. He leaned forward, kissing the top of her head before standing up from where he crouched.

“Come on. We both need sleep. Tomorrow night we leave.” Stephen said as he helped her stand up.

Together they walked into the house.
 

Griz3752

Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Personally I'm betting Stephen went back to properly bury the dead girl.

I know it would be out of character but, if he made her rat bastard killer's remains available to the scavenger population, I'd be OK w/ that . . .

That would 'clean up' that mess in an appropriate fashion . . .

Thank you CCG
I don't say that enough.
 
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