Story Market Day
- Thread starter ComCamGuy
- Start date
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
The sky was beginning to lighten when Zed saw Jesse slowly roll up the driveway. Jesse looked worn out. He parked right below the steps to the porch. Zed just sat and watched him climb the stairs. As he collapsed in the other chair, Zed poured him a cup of coffee from the carafe. He had made two new pots throughout the night.
“So, what took you so long?”
“Zed, we got problems. Has Doug made it back yet?”
“No, what’s up?”
“Somebody choppered in an armed team at the cabin just as I was leaving. No uniforms, no tail markings on the bird, carrying AKs. None of that fits with anyone who should be doing this. I got out of there and zigged and zagged a bunch of ways to make sure they weren’t tracking me. Doug and the rest of the Rangers are going to have their hands full. He might need our help. We should be ready if he asks.”
“I’m no Law Enforcement type, Jesse. I don’t even know if it’s legal for us to help him.”
“Legal or not, its right to defend at least your property. We might have to deal with them if they find your little spread here. What do you still have? I could probably slip out as the sun goes down and get some more stuff from my place. Besides, yours is better set up for keeping away from people.”
“I have a few leftovers, but nothing to really fight a battle with. You are talking a group with AKs. How many, where, why, what do they want and a hundred other questions I have. I can dig out what I do have but, what do I need?”
“I don’t know, Zed. This whole thing is squirrelier than twenty pounds of squirrel shit. I got a feeling that there is a whole load of bad shit inbound. Think about how to defend this place from marauders is the first thing. Next, we need to look at helping Doug if he needs it. Third, we need to get some stuff tucked away somewhere else in case we need to leave.” Jesse’s voice seemed to gain strength and surety as he spoke.
“Jesse, I can dig out stuff for most of what you’re talking about, but it will take a bit of time. If it’s as bad as you think it is, you might be right to get stuff from your place and come here. Do you need any help loading things there? Should I go with you?”
“No, you stay here and work your stuff. I will load up whatever I have and think we may need and come back. As a matter of fact, if you cook up another pot of coffee, I’ll head to the house now and get my nap there instead of here.”
“You sure you can? You look pretty worn out?”
“I’ll be OK. Make the coffee strong and I’ll tank up from the gas can. After I leave, also think on what we can do to reduce the likelihood of finding this place.”
“Hell, if we need to, we can drop a tree across the road.”
“That would be a bit obvious.”
“We can go a bit off to the side on the main road and drop one or two so the crown of the tree lands at the entrance instead of the main trunk. That will put all the branches and such covering the entrance from being seen rather than it just look like a roadblock across the road if it was the trunk. If we do a few, we can make it look like trail and road maintenance in progress.”
“That might work. We can look at that when I get back. From now on, keep your head on a swivel and stay armed. Make the coffee so I can get out of here.”
Zed headed inside the cabin. Behind him, the sun finally crested the ridge.
“So, what took you so long?”
“Zed, we got problems. Has Doug made it back yet?”
“No, what’s up?”
“Somebody choppered in an armed team at the cabin just as I was leaving. No uniforms, no tail markings on the bird, carrying AKs. None of that fits with anyone who should be doing this. I got out of there and zigged and zagged a bunch of ways to make sure they weren’t tracking me. Doug and the rest of the Rangers are going to have their hands full. He might need our help. We should be ready if he asks.”
“I’m no Law Enforcement type, Jesse. I don’t even know if it’s legal for us to help him.”
“Legal or not, its right to defend at least your property. We might have to deal with them if they find your little spread here. What do you still have? I could probably slip out as the sun goes down and get some more stuff from my place. Besides, yours is better set up for keeping away from people.”
“I have a few leftovers, but nothing to really fight a battle with. You are talking a group with AKs. How many, where, why, what do they want and a hundred other questions I have. I can dig out what I do have but, what do I need?”
“I don’t know, Zed. This whole thing is squirrelier than twenty pounds of squirrel shit. I got a feeling that there is a whole load of bad shit inbound. Think about how to defend this place from marauders is the first thing. Next, we need to look at helping Doug if he needs it. Third, we need to get some stuff tucked away somewhere else in case we need to leave.” Jesse’s voice seemed to gain strength and surety as he spoke.
“Jesse, I can dig out stuff for most of what you’re talking about, but it will take a bit of time. If it’s as bad as you think it is, you might be right to get stuff from your place and come here. Do you need any help loading things there? Should I go with you?”
“No, you stay here and work your stuff. I will load up whatever I have and think we may need and come back. As a matter of fact, if you cook up another pot of coffee, I’ll head to the house now and get my nap there instead of here.”
“You sure you can? You look pretty worn out?”
“I’ll be OK. Make the coffee strong and I’ll tank up from the gas can. After I leave, also think on what we can do to reduce the likelihood of finding this place.”
“Hell, if we need to, we can drop a tree across the road.”
“That would be a bit obvious.”
“We can go a bit off to the side on the main road and drop one or two so the crown of the tree lands at the entrance instead of the main trunk. That will put all the branches and such covering the entrance from being seen rather than it just look like a roadblock across the road if it was the trunk. If we do a few, we can make it look like trail and road maintenance in progress.”
“That might work. We can look at that when I get back. From now on, keep your head on a swivel and stay armed. Make the coffee so I can get out of here.”
Zed headed inside the cabin. Behind him, the sun finally crested the ridge.
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steamroller
Contributing Member
Excellent, thank you.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
They had been up at dawn to go get good pictures of the sunrise. It was quite a walk from their campsite, but Heidi knew Emilia really wanted to get the shots. She was so enthusiastic when they saw it the other day and had planned to come back for it. Noah and Lucas had no interest in a pre-dawn hike for the sunrise pics, so they stayed behind. This was just as well. Dragging a six-year-old out before dawn for a six mile hike in the dark was not a recipe for bliss.
The four of them had been out in the park for a week, and were staying another week. Both families needed a break, and this was the last time in the schedule where Heidi could before she went to FLETC to train for her new job.
Emilia had been Lucas’s babysitter for the past year and a half. The four of them, Emilia, Lucas, Emilia’s mom Heidi and Lucas’s dad Noah, had become good friends and hung out frequently. Emilia was really rooting for her mom and Noah to start dating or something, but her mom hadn’t dated anyone really since her dad died. It had just been the two of them for eight long years. Emilia was still pushing and hoping as hard as a fourteen-year-old could though. She wouldn’t give up easily.
Heidi was walking in front. This was for a few reasons. Her legs were shorter and it let her control their pace. She was also shorter than her daughter. Emilia could see over her so this way, on the narrow sections of the trail, she walked in front so both could see where they were going. They were both happy and energetic as they were headed back down the trail towards the camp.
Heidi was glad they were able to do this camping trip before she left for the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center course. This would be the first time in eight years she will have been gone from her daughter for more than an overnight trip in over eight years. It made her nervous a little. It was kind of like back in the day when she was still in the service and deploying. Her class will be three months long, only a month shorter than her old deployments.
She had to admit, she was excited to be getting back to what she was once doing in a way. She was part of a big hiring push recently for more Law Enforcement officers for Fish and Wildlife and Park Service. She had been out of law enforcement these eight years following her husband’s death and her separation from the service to take care of their daughter. Both of them were active duty with the same unit, and they would keep them on separate deployment rotations, which solved their childcare issues.
Heidi was deployed when the drunk driver killed her husband on the way to pick up Emilia from school. Emergency return, the funeral, hardship discharge, all of this was just the start of eight long hard years. Now Emilia was grown enough to make it easier to grab at this chance before she maxed out on the age hiring restrictions. When she got accepted and got her FLETC date, she wanted to do something special.
Noah was letting her stay at his place with him and Lucas while she was gone. When she got back, she might actually start thinking about dating him. She hadn’t yet because she didn’t want to screw up the friendship they had.
The two of them were walking along when a strange sound ripped through the air several times.
Emilia was confused by several things all at once. The sound made no sense. She had no idea what it was. At the same time, her mom seemed to do some video game level move; spinning around, grabbing her by the backpack straps, and slinging her to the ground off of the trail. The sound continued intermittently.
“What the hell mom?” Emilia started to say but before she could continue, Heidi was up in her face, a strange intensity in her eyes.
“Shut Up! I need you to run to where we had the marshmallows right now! When you get there, hide in the brush uphill. Don’t come out until I call for you by your middle name. If I use all three, don’t come out, whatever I do or say. Do you understand?”
“What the **** is going on mo…..” CRACK! Heidi’s hand shot out quick as a mantis, the open hand slap ringing Emilia’s head and stinging her cheek.
“I said do you understand my instructions?”
Emilia just nodded her head numbly.
“Obey, I will explain later, and I am sorry. Go Now!”
Heidi waited until she saw Emilia start running up the trail. When she was sure Emilia was moving out smartly, she turned and started running towards the camp.
The four of them had been out in the park for a week, and were staying another week. Both families needed a break, and this was the last time in the schedule where Heidi could before she went to FLETC to train for her new job.
Emilia had been Lucas’s babysitter for the past year and a half. The four of them, Emilia, Lucas, Emilia’s mom Heidi and Lucas’s dad Noah, had become good friends and hung out frequently. Emilia was really rooting for her mom and Noah to start dating or something, but her mom hadn’t dated anyone really since her dad died. It had just been the two of them for eight long years. Emilia was still pushing and hoping as hard as a fourteen-year-old could though. She wouldn’t give up easily.
Heidi was walking in front. This was for a few reasons. Her legs were shorter and it let her control their pace. She was also shorter than her daughter. Emilia could see over her so this way, on the narrow sections of the trail, she walked in front so both could see where they were going. They were both happy and energetic as they were headed back down the trail towards the camp.
Heidi was glad they were able to do this camping trip before she left for the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center course. This would be the first time in eight years she will have been gone from her daughter for more than an overnight trip in over eight years. It made her nervous a little. It was kind of like back in the day when she was still in the service and deploying. Her class will be three months long, only a month shorter than her old deployments.
She had to admit, she was excited to be getting back to what she was once doing in a way. She was part of a big hiring push recently for more Law Enforcement officers for Fish and Wildlife and Park Service. She had been out of law enforcement these eight years following her husband’s death and her separation from the service to take care of their daughter. Both of them were active duty with the same unit, and they would keep them on separate deployment rotations, which solved their childcare issues.
Heidi was deployed when the drunk driver killed her husband on the way to pick up Emilia from school. Emergency return, the funeral, hardship discharge, all of this was just the start of eight long hard years. Now Emilia was grown enough to make it easier to grab at this chance before she maxed out on the age hiring restrictions. When she got accepted and got her FLETC date, she wanted to do something special.
Noah was letting her stay at his place with him and Lucas while she was gone. When she got back, she might actually start thinking about dating him. She hadn’t yet because she didn’t want to screw up the friendship they had.
The two of them were walking along when a strange sound ripped through the air several times.
Emilia was confused by several things all at once. The sound made no sense. She had no idea what it was. At the same time, her mom seemed to do some video game level move; spinning around, grabbing her by the backpack straps, and slinging her to the ground off of the trail. The sound continued intermittently.
“What the hell mom?” Emilia started to say but before she could continue, Heidi was up in her face, a strange intensity in her eyes.
“Shut Up! I need you to run to where we had the marshmallows right now! When you get there, hide in the brush uphill. Don’t come out until I call for you by your middle name. If I use all three, don’t come out, whatever I do or say. Do you understand?”
“What the **** is going on mo…..” CRACK! Heidi’s hand shot out quick as a mantis, the open hand slap ringing Emilia’s head and stinging her cheek.
“I said do you understand my instructions?”
Emilia just nodded her head numbly.
“Obey, I will explain later, and I am sorry. Go Now!”
Heidi waited until she saw Emilia start running up the trail. When she was sure Emilia was moving out smartly, she turned and started running towards the camp.
Grouchy Granny
Deceased
The plot thickens! And allusions to some things in part 1 are now becoming clear.
Anxiously awaiting next thrilling installment.
Thank you!
Anxiously awaiting next thrilling installment.
Thank you!
steamroller
Contributing Member
Great addition.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Eight years. It’s been eight years since she had heard full auto AK fire. There should be no reason it should be happening from the direction of their camp. Heidi was perversely pleased in a small part of her mind that she still had decent reflexes, but the rest of her was puckered hard. Her mind was racing ahead of her as she went down the trail. She was working hard to remind herself to not run into the middle of the clearing to take charge of the situation. She had no body armor, no long gun and only her small Glock and a spare magazine. What the hell is going on here was the continual loop playing in her head as she went.
She had spent ten years in the Air Force as a cop. The first part was pretty laid back, spending three years playing fish and game warden on horseback out at the giant rocket base in California. Her next seven years were hip deep in the War on Terror. Air Force Security Forces were responsible for Air Base Ground Defense. This meant more than just speeding tickets on base. This meant perimeter security, SWAT, Nuclear Security response force, Aircraft Security anywhere Air Force planes go and a host of other missions. Shortly after 9/11, there was a big push for more trigger pullers for all kinds of things. In Iraq, the Air Force was doing a great deal of the convoy security, in addition to active measures both inside and outside the perimeter. The Air Force needed a ‘go to’ group of Security Forces for all these new mission demands that they could throw on these things on zero minutes notice. Later they could replace them with others as they were spooled up to augment.
The young Airmen at the 820th Base Defense Group were always training, working combat skills or deploying. They were working with the other Special Operations people on base as well like the Combat Weather guys and the Pararescue and Combat Controllers. As a young, enthusiastic Airman, she grabbed as much training as she could. They sent them to all kinds of courses to add capabilities to what they did. She got to go to Basic Survival, Water Survival, jump school, Medical First Responder, and a bunch of others. Her supervisor told her it was because she was so eager and worked so hard to be perfect in the job. She also knew the reason his bosses kept approving her requests. It was the inevitable monkey on her back, the elephant in the room. Something beyond her control. She could only blame her mother and father. She was drop-dead gorgeous.
She had supermodel looks and a natural physique that women were starving themselves, jazzercising themselves and troweling on makeup to try and achieve. Well, except for the height. She was more a 3/4 scale miniature supermodel. All her life, people have dismissed her as just a pretty face that gets by on her looks. If she was an idiot, she could have just accepted it, nodded her head, giggled and floated through life. The problem was, she was smart. Bordering on brilliant, she was dismissed off hand by her classmates growing up, many of which were either jealous or resentful. She became reclusive, which then made her seem stuck up and aloof.
Rebelling against an overprotective father, she turned into a wild young adult, then joined the military. There she found a structure that was supposed to work on merit and capability. In the long run though, her looks still handicapped her in some ways, especially after the Public Affairs section found her. She was featured in a few photo stories about the young Airmen training. Her pictures generated a slew of press and went Air Force, then DoD wide. She became one of the higher requested for some details, based on nothing but her looks. She never slept her way to the top, but was accused of it constantly.
Heidi tried to force her mind to focus on the potential tactical situation at hand and not worry about Emilia right now. She had not thought about charging to the sound of the guns in years. She knew in abstract that force on force would become a potential part of her new job, but figured she had the three months at the schoolhouse to ease her mind back into it. Those file cabinets in her brain were rusty and dusty.
She tried to total her assets: her pistol plus one extra mag made twenty rounds of nine millimetre. She had a boo-boo kit and her day pack. She was small, nimble and fast. Years of anger and rage had been force fed to the treadmill and at only 5’2’’ on a day with good posture, she was hard to see if she wanted to hide.
Liabilities; she was poorly armed for AKs. They sounded to be near or in their campsite where Noah and Lucas were. Noah and Lucas were unarmed and had a soft and squishy upbringing not prepared for sudden violence. She had her only daughter running ten miles from her to hide somewhere. If Heidi was hurt or killed, no one knew she was there or would be looking for her there. God, she owed her an apology for the slap. She had never hit her before, but it could end up with another visit from Child Protective Services.
“Dad, if you are listening in on me, I could really use a hand.” She continued down the trail, trying to pick where to get off the trail and get some eye on the situation.
She had spent ten years in the Air Force as a cop. The first part was pretty laid back, spending three years playing fish and game warden on horseback out at the giant rocket base in California. Her next seven years were hip deep in the War on Terror. Air Force Security Forces were responsible for Air Base Ground Defense. This meant more than just speeding tickets on base. This meant perimeter security, SWAT, Nuclear Security response force, Aircraft Security anywhere Air Force planes go and a host of other missions. Shortly after 9/11, there was a big push for more trigger pullers for all kinds of things. In Iraq, the Air Force was doing a great deal of the convoy security, in addition to active measures both inside and outside the perimeter. The Air Force needed a ‘go to’ group of Security Forces for all these new mission demands that they could throw on these things on zero minutes notice. Later they could replace them with others as they were spooled up to augment.
The young Airmen at the 820th Base Defense Group were always training, working combat skills or deploying. They were working with the other Special Operations people on base as well like the Combat Weather guys and the Pararescue and Combat Controllers. As a young, enthusiastic Airman, she grabbed as much training as she could. They sent them to all kinds of courses to add capabilities to what they did. She got to go to Basic Survival, Water Survival, jump school, Medical First Responder, and a bunch of others. Her supervisor told her it was because she was so eager and worked so hard to be perfect in the job. She also knew the reason his bosses kept approving her requests. It was the inevitable monkey on her back, the elephant in the room. Something beyond her control. She could only blame her mother and father. She was drop-dead gorgeous.
She had supermodel looks and a natural physique that women were starving themselves, jazzercising themselves and troweling on makeup to try and achieve. Well, except for the height. She was more a 3/4 scale miniature supermodel. All her life, people have dismissed her as just a pretty face that gets by on her looks. If she was an idiot, she could have just accepted it, nodded her head, giggled and floated through life. The problem was, she was smart. Bordering on brilliant, she was dismissed off hand by her classmates growing up, many of which were either jealous or resentful. She became reclusive, which then made her seem stuck up and aloof.
Rebelling against an overprotective father, she turned into a wild young adult, then joined the military. There she found a structure that was supposed to work on merit and capability. In the long run though, her looks still handicapped her in some ways, especially after the Public Affairs section found her. She was featured in a few photo stories about the young Airmen training. Her pictures generated a slew of press and went Air Force, then DoD wide. She became one of the higher requested for some details, based on nothing but her looks. She never slept her way to the top, but was accused of it constantly.
Heidi tried to force her mind to focus on the potential tactical situation at hand and not worry about Emilia right now. She had not thought about charging to the sound of the guns in years. She knew in abstract that force on force would become a potential part of her new job, but figured she had the three months at the schoolhouse to ease her mind back into it. Those file cabinets in her brain were rusty and dusty.
She tried to total her assets: her pistol plus one extra mag made twenty rounds of nine millimetre. She had a boo-boo kit and her day pack. She was small, nimble and fast. Years of anger and rage had been force fed to the treadmill and at only 5’2’’ on a day with good posture, she was hard to see if she wanted to hide.
Liabilities; she was poorly armed for AKs. They sounded to be near or in their campsite where Noah and Lucas were. Noah and Lucas were unarmed and had a soft and squishy upbringing not prepared for sudden violence. She had her only daughter running ten miles from her to hide somewhere. If Heidi was hurt or killed, no one knew she was there or would be looking for her there. God, she owed her an apology for the slap. She had never hit her before, but it could end up with another visit from Child Protective Services.
“Dad, if you are listening in on me, I could really use a hand.” She continued down the trail, trying to pick where to get off the trail and get some eye on the situation.
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sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you, yep I couldn't wait until tomorrow to read these.
ted
Veteran Member
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Emilia ran. She was terrified. Absolutely terrified. She had no idea what was going on, she had no idea why she was running other than her mother told her to. Correction, she commanded her to. And therein lay the terror.
Her mother’s actions had terrified her. Make no doubt, she trusted and loved her mother, but she frequently confused her, worried her, and sometimes she was a little scared FOR her , but this time she had terrified her.
She ran. THE VOICE had said obey, so she did. She had only heard her use that voice twice at another person. It wasn’t as intense as this time, and wasn’t directed at her. The one time she had heard it clearly, her mom hadn’t know she was still within earshot. She could still remember every word as if it was seconds ago. She was talking to her new boyfriend that had come over to the apartment. He was sitting on the couch and she had walked up to him. He was much taller than her and with him sitting and her standing, they were almost eye to eye. She spoke once, then left the room
“You seem like a nice young man. If you lay one finger on my daughter that she doesn’t like, speak to her in a way that is disrespectful or casually break her heart, your parents will be burying an empty coffin because they will never find your body.”
She didn’t yell, it was all in an even tone, but in that moment, there was absolutely no doubt in their minds she meant every single word of it.
Part of her knew her mother was unstable in some ways. OK, correction, a lot of ways. The anger, the rage and the crying after Emilia’s father died was understandable she now knew as she had gotten older. Some other parts didn’t make as much sense to her. She would get drunk after the funerals she went to. Most of them, she would just sit at the table in their old house, refill her glass, cry, refill her glass, again and again until the bottle was gone.
One time, however, after coming back from that funeral and drinking some, she had gone into the garage and destroyed just about as many things as she could get her hands on. That was the last one she went to other than her father’s after they had moved here and lived her with him for a couple of years.
After her mom had gotten out of the military after Emilia’s dad died, mom bounced around job to job a lot, rarely staying with one any length of time. The longest was when she was going to college and then was a teacher at one of the high schools. It was shortly after getting fired that times got even more lean. They ended up moving halfway across the country to Grandpa’s place. It was prettier here but Grandpa was old and had been sick for a long time.
Her mother at least didn’t drink any more. She did workout like a maniac, however. She haunted pawn shops and thrift stores until she had gotten enough gym equipment to keep her busy. Mom never slept. She would be up at three in the morning, pounding away on the treadmill, or the ski machine, or the bowflex for three, four , five hours at a time, two or three times a day sometimes. She had asked her why once. Her mom told her it was easier to sleep when she was exhausted.
Emilia knew it wasn’t vanity driving her to work out. There were no mirrors in the gym room. Shoot, there were no mirrors anywhere in the apartment other than Emilia’s bathroom. One of her friends said her mother’s fashion sense was that of a homeless person, all baggy clothes, long sleeves and unkempt or un-styled, barely combed hair. The sad thing was, her friend was right and wrong.
Her mother was doing it deliberately. She had seen her dressed to the nines, smoking hot, when she wanted to. But her mother seemed to care nothing about it. Emilia chalked it up as another part of her screwed up mom. When Emilia had wanted to start wearing makeup, her mom had to get a friend of hers to take Emilia shopping for it and teach her how to put it on. Not that her mother didn’t want to, she had said. It was that she didn’t know what to get or how to put it on herself. The only thing she had ever seen her use was lip balm for chapped lips. Not that her mother needed any makeup.
The one constant had always been her love and affection towards Emilia. That’s why she was so scared now. The look in her mother’s eyes when she threw her to the ground and gave her orders. Not told her what to do. Gave her orders, in that other voice. It was like some sort of demon had escaped a cage and taken over. She had pissed herself when her mom slapped her. What had gone so wrong that her mother had turned loose this thing inside her towards her?
Emilia ran.
Her mother’s actions had terrified her. Make no doubt, she trusted and loved her mother, but she frequently confused her, worried her, and sometimes she was a little scared FOR her , but this time she had terrified her.
She ran. THE VOICE had said obey, so she did. She had only heard her use that voice twice at another person. It wasn’t as intense as this time, and wasn’t directed at her. The one time she had heard it clearly, her mom hadn’t know she was still within earshot. She could still remember every word as if it was seconds ago. She was talking to her new boyfriend that had come over to the apartment. He was sitting on the couch and she had walked up to him. He was much taller than her and with him sitting and her standing, they were almost eye to eye. She spoke once, then left the room
“You seem like a nice young man. If you lay one finger on my daughter that she doesn’t like, speak to her in a way that is disrespectful or casually break her heart, your parents will be burying an empty coffin because they will never find your body.”
She didn’t yell, it was all in an even tone, but in that moment, there was absolutely no doubt in their minds she meant every single word of it.
Part of her knew her mother was unstable in some ways. OK, correction, a lot of ways. The anger, the rage and the crying after Emilia’s father died was understandable she now knew as she had gotten older. Some other parts didn’t make as much sense to her. She would get drunk after the funerals she went to. Most of them, she would just sit at the table in their old house, refill her glass, cry, refill her glass, again and again until the bottle was gone.
One time, however, after coming back from that funeral and drinking some, she had gone into the garage and destroyed just about as many things as she could get her hands on. That was the last one she went to other than her father’s after they had moved here and lived her with him for a couple of years.
After her mom had gotten out of the military after Emilia’s dad died, mom bounced around job to job a lot, rarely staying with one any length of time. The longest was when she was going to college and then was a teacher at one of the high schools. It was shortly after getting fired that times got even more lean. They ended up moving halfway across the country to Grandpa’s place. It was prettier here but Grandpa was old and had been sick for a long time.
Her mother at least didn’t drink any more. She did workout like a maniac, however. She haunted pawn shops and thrift stores until she had gotten enough gym equipment to keep her busy. Mom never slept. She would be up at three in the morning, pounding away on the treadmill, or the ski machine, or the bowflex for three, four , five hours at a time, two or three times a day sometimes. She had asked her why once. Her mom told her it was easier to sleep when she was exhausted.
Emilia knew it wasn’t vanity driving her to work out. There were no mirrors in the gym room. Shoot, there were no mirrors anywhere in the apartment other than Emilia’s bathroom. One of her friends said her mother’s fashion sense was that of a homeless person, all baggy clothes, long sleeves and unkempt or un-styled, barely combed hair. The sad thing was, her friend was right and wrong.
Her mother was doing it deliberately. She had seen her dressed to the nines, smoking hot, when she wanted to. But her mother seemed to care nothing about it. Emilia chalked it up as another part of her screwed up mom. When Emilia had wanted to start wearing makeup, her mom had to get a friend of hers to take Emilia shopping for it and teach her how to put it on. Not that her mother didn’t want to, she had said. It was that she didn’t know what to get or how to put it on herself. The only thing she had ever seen her use was lip balm for chapped lips. Not that her mother needed any makeup.
The one constant had always been her love and affection towards Emilia. That’s why she was so scared now. The look in her mother’s eyes when she threw her to the ground and gave her orders. Not told her what to do. Gave her orders, in that other voice. It was like some sort of demon had escaped a cage and taken over. She had pissed herself when her mom slapped her. What had gone so wrong that her mother had turned loose this thing inside her towards her?
Emilia ran.
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ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Heidi could see the devastation in the clearing. She was feeling so many things right now, it was hard to breath. She wanted to rush out and save them, she wanted to chase down the bastards that had done this, she wanted to run away and make sure Emilia was safe. Emilia. ****. Heidi was hoping Emilia would forgive her for what she did on the trail. She could remember the scared look in her eyes, and knew her own eyes were scared.
The war had come found her in the woods. The gunman were using controlled bursts. She could hear it as she ran. By the time she got to the camp, they were gone. All that was left was Noah and Lucas’ broken bodies. She was waiting, trying to make sure they had really left. She didn’t want to walk right out into an ambush. It’s not like she could do anything for those two anymore.
She gripped the little pistol. Part of her wanted them to still be there. They would probably gun her down, but she might get at least one of them. So what good would that do, dumbass? None. She sat in the brush and waited, listening for any sign of them. After about an hour, she heard in the distance several more bursts of gunfire. It was down where the spot they had left Noah’s van. Well, there’s no escape that way.
She carefully moved out into the clearing. Not that she had any doubt before, but Noah and Lucas were gone the moment they pulled the triggers. It looked like they had dumped half a mag into each of them, square in the chest. Why?! Why the **** would somebody pump fifteen rounds into a six year old?! The tears streamed down her face, unnoticed by her. She looked around the site, trying to make more sense of it, and came up empty. At this point, her brain just stopped. Frozen in place. She tried to make it work again. Nope. She punched herself almost full force in the thigh. The pain shocked her head enough she could start thinking again.
She searched around for some tools for her next couple of steps. She dug a pair of shallow graves. She didn’t want to leave them unburied out here. Unbidden, her mind flashed back to countless images from Fallujah and other places. Wild dogs tugging and pulling the dead apart in the street, fighting over the juicier bits. She couldn’t let that happen to Noah and Lucas. Not if she could help it.
It took some time to make the holes deep enough. Belatedly, she thought she probably should have just done one and put them both in it together. She scavenged the shoelaces from Noah’s boots to put together some crosses. In spite of all she had been through, she was still very religious in her soul, even though she knew she was a bad person. It was one of her struggles. Her father’s heavy handedness concerning religion was both a burden and a blessing. She believed quite strongly, even when she rebelled as a kid and a young adult. Yet even in her rebellion, she still tried to hold true.
The prayer when she laid them to rest was heartfelt, as was her promise to seek justice or retribution to those who did this. She knew she had to focus on her next task. Finding her daughter and keeping her safe.
She went through the camp looking for anything she thought they might need. She tried to remember the lessons from survival school those fifteen or more years ago as she went. The ones about fire, water and such were easy. The ones for hiding and evading were the ones she thought she might need.
She grabbed their two packs. She dumped each out, repacking it with just what she thought they would need. She was trying to make room for other stuff as well as lightening their load. She also wanted to spread the extras between their two tents. They thought they saw stuff for four. She didn’t want to change their mind on that, but she also didn’t want to be too obvious that they had grabbed a bunch of stuff. She ended up with all their clothes since they didn’t bring much. The sleeping bags were a no-brainer, as was all the nonperishable food and the extra water bladders. She also pulled the two ground sheets from under the tents, leaving the tents set up. She was hoping if they did come back, they would waste time watching the camp instead of tracking them.
The last thing she did was leave a note for Emilia, in case she disobeyed her and came back here. She put it in the edge of the cooler.
With her own backpack on her back, and Emilia’s backwards on her chest, she started through the brush. She would cut back up to the trail in about a mile and try to make some time. She was hoping to get there by dark. Among all the other thought as she started hiking, she was wondering how she would explain this to Emilia. Especially since she didn’t understand it herself. One thing she did know, she had two more names for the tattoo on her calf, number 39 and 40.
The war had come found her in the woods. The gunman were using controlled bursts. She could hear it as she ran. By the time she got to the camp, they were gone. All that was left was Noah and Lucas’ broken bodies. She was waiting, trying to make sure they had really left. She didn’t want to walk right out into an ambush. It’s not like she could do anything for those two anymore.
She gripped the little pistol. Part of her wanted them to still be there. They would probably gun her down, but she might get at least one of them. So what good would that do, dumbass? None. She sat in the brush and waited, listening for any sign of them. After about an hour, she heard in the distance several more bursts of gunfire. It was down where the spot they had left Noah’s van. Well, there’s no escape that way.
She carefully moved out into the clearing. Not that she had any doubt before, but Noah and Lucas were gone the moment they pulled the triggers. It looked like they had dumped half a mag into each of them, square in the chest. Why?! Why the **** would somebody pump fifteen rounds into a six year old?! The tears streamed down her face, unnoticed by her. She looked around the site, trying to make more sense of it, and came up empty. At this point, her brain just stopped. Frozen in place. She tried to make it work again. Nope. She punched herself almost full force in the thigh. The pain shocked her head enough she could start thinking again.
She searched around for some tools for her next couple of steps. She dug a pair of shallow graves. She didn’t want to leave them unburied out here. Unbidden, her mind flashed back to countless images from Fallujah and other places. Wild dogs tugging and pulling the dead apart in the street, fighting over the juicier bits. She couldn’t let that happen to Noah and Lucas. Not if she could help it.
It took some time to make the holes deep enough. Belatedly, she thought she probably should have just done one and put them both in it together. She scavenged the shoelaces from Noah’s boots to put together some crosses. In spite of all she had been through, she was still very religious in her soul, even though she knew she was a bad person. It was one of her struggles. Her father’s heavy handedness concerning religion was both a burden and a blessing. She believed quite strongly, even when she rebelled as a kid and a young adult. Yet even in her rebellion, she still tried to hold true.
The prayer when she laid them to rest was heartfelt, as was her promise to seek justice or retribution to those who did this. She knew she had to focus on her next task. Finding her daughter and keeping her safe.
She went through the camp looking for anything she thought they might need. She tried to remember the lessons from survival school those fifteen or more years ago as she went. The ones about fire, water and such were easy. The ones for hiding and evading were the ones she thought she might need.
She grabbed their two packs. She dumped each out, repacking it with just what she thought they would need. She was trying to make room for other stuff as well as lightening their load. She also wanted to spread the extras between their two tents. They thought they saw stuff for four. She didn’t want to change their mind on that, but she also didn’t want to be too obvious that they had grabbed a bunch of stuff. She ended up with all their clothes since they didn’t bring much. The sleeping bags were a no-brainer, as was all the nonperishable food and the extra water bladders. She also pulled the two ground sheets from under the tents, leaving the tents set up. She was hoping if they did come back, they would waste time watching the camp instead of tracking them.
The last thing she did was leave a note for Emilia, in case she disobeyed her and came back here. She put it in the edge of the cooler.
With her own backpack on her back, and Emilia’s backwards on her chest, she started through the brush. She would cut back up to the trail in about a mile and try to make some time. She was hoping to get there by dark. Among all the other thought as she started hiking, she was wondering how she would explain this to Emilia. Especially since she didn’t understand it herself. One thing she did know, she had two more names for the tattoo on her calf, number 39 and 40.
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steamroller
Contributing Member
Great chapters, thank you.
CCG is channeling his "inner Kipling":
Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)
"The Female of the Species"
WHEN the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
[12 outstanding addition stanzas, here: The Female of the Species - Kipling ]
Anyone who has been a soldier, or who wants to understand their potentially lethal particularities, has to read Kipling. Genius. He will change your life. CCG has read Kipling--amiright?
Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)
"The Female of the Species"
WHEN the Himalayan peasant meets the he-bear in his pride,
He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside.
But the she-bear thus accosted rends the peasant tooth and nail.
For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.
[12 outstanding addition stanzas, here: The Female of the Species - Kipling ]
Anyone who has been a soldier, or who wants to understand their potentially lethal particularities, has to read Kipling. Genius. He will change your life. CCG has read Kipling--amiright?
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
This was the first time it hit digits this morning. However, if you dig back into one of the earlier pages, it might look a bit familiar
(Hint: post #909)
Griz3752
Retired, practising Curmudgeon
Many, MANY worse things than re-reading could happen to me today -- AND, tomorrow is Saturday!
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Jesse made it back to his home on the edge of a subdivision, the land of which used to be his family’s farm. His grandfather sold off most of the land, leaving a small plot of land around the old farmhouse. The suburban sprawl had grown up around the place.
He pulled up to the house. Everything seemed to still be intact, but the neighborhood was even now giving him a sketchy feel. There were his next door neighbors he was friendly with, but, by and large, he knew almost no one here.
With these feelings welling up in him, he decided to go ahead and load out his little pickup truck first, then get his nap. He had spent the ride building lists of what all he wanted to get. Part of him wasn’t sure if he thought he would ever be returning. The feeling troubled him, both for its implications and because he didn’t know what had pushed his subconscious to come to this conclusion.
He loaded a bag with all the clothes he thought he would want for an entire weather seasons cycle. He packed all the non-perishable food, mostly canned and dried goods from his pantry. Spare parts and supplies for the truck and the fat tire motorcycle were pulled.
His radios were packed into a big Pelican case. He also filled a small case with all the spare parts, headsets and support gear. Finally, the original reason for coming; weapons.
He really didn’t have much. His other 1911’s were going with him, complete with all the spare parts and accessories to support them. Several ammo cans packed to the brim with 45 APC ammo went into the truck, as well as his entire supply of 30 Carbine. As far as rifles, in addition to the M-1 carbine, there was a high-end AR-15 type and a pre-ban relic Galil, complete with folding stock. It could use AR mags and ammo for the weapon system. This he kept for himself.
The AR was originally bought to teach and let his granddaughter learn before she went to boot camp. Iron sights were the only targeting system available for it. The Galil was his. Back in the day, it was described as robust and no nonsense. When he retired from the military, it was touted as the most reliable blend of the AR and the AK. With its folding stock, it was small but handy.
Packing the truck constantly led to more stuff being added to the list. All the camping gear went into the bed of the truck, as did his kit of repair tools. The hitch mount went on followed by the fat tire motorcycle at the back of the truck.
He went to the bedroom for some much-needed sleep. He set an alarm for sundown. He would talk to the neighbors to keep an eye on the place, then take off. He would be able to get to Zed’s by dawn tomorrow if he was careful.
He pulled up to the house. Everything seemed to still be intact, but the neighborhood was even now giving him a sketchy feel. There were his next door neighbors he was friendly with, but, by and large, he knew almost no one here.
With these feelings welling up in him, he decided to go ahead and load out his little pickup truck first, then get his nap. He had spent the ride building lists of what all he wanted to get. Part of him wasn’t sure if he thought he would ever be returning. The feeling troubled him, both for its implications and because he didn’t know what had pushed his subconscious to come to this conclusion.
He loaded a bag with all the clothes he thought he would want for an entire weather seasons cycle. He packed all the non-perishable food, mostly canned and dried goods from his pantry. Spare parts and supplies for the truck and the fat tire motorcycle were pulled.
His radios were packed into a big Pelican case. He also filled a small case with all the spare parts, headsets and support gear. Finally, the original reason for coming; weapons.
He really didn’t have much. His other 1911’s were going with him, complete with all the spare parts and accessories to support them. Several ammo cans packed to the brim with 45 APC ammo went into the truck, as well as his entire supply of 30 Carbine. As far as rifles, in addition to the M-1 carbine, there was a high-end AR-15 type and a pre-ban relic Galil, complete with folding stock. It could use AR mags and ammo for the weapon system. This he kept for himself.
The AR was originally bought to teach and let his granddaughter learn before she went to boot camp. Iron sights were the only targeting system available for it. The Galil was his. Back in the day, it was described as robust and no nonsense. When he retired from the military, it was touted as the most reliable blend of the AR and the AK. With its folding stock, it was small but handy.
Packing the truck constantly led to more stuff being added to the list. All the camping gear went into the bed of the truck, as did his kit of repair tools. The hitch mount went on followed by the fat tire motorcycle at the back of the truck.
He went to the bedroom for some much-needed sleep. He set an alarm for sundown. He would talk to the neighbors to keep an eye on the place, then take off. He would be able to get to Zed’s by dawn tomorrow if he was careful.
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sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you
steamroller
Contributing Member
Thank you.
ComCamGuy
Remote Paramedical pain in the ass
Doug’s head was splitting. His vision was still blurred. He was having trouble keeping his thoughts coherent and on task. He was out of water and knew he needed to get to one of the streams on his route. He had seen no signs of pursuit all day. He remembered he was supposed to leave some trail to keep them towards him and not wandering loose where they could stumble upon Angelique.
On foot, he was a week from his cabin, he figured. The route he was taking would bring him to several natural choke points where he could watch for them. Part of him wanted to get his trail deep into a dead end, then break contact with his trackers so He could get over to where Angelique was headed. The problem with that was if they were good enough to stay on his trail, he would be leading them to her rather than keeping her safe.
He knew he had at least a concussion, or worse. There was nothing to be done in the backcountry for it other than rest, hope and prayer. Dehydration, however was something he could do something about. He just had to find more water. His bottle filter would take care of making it safe so he didn’t have to risk a fire.
He had some energy bars and other things for food, but for the body to process food, it needs water. He had to get the water so he could get the fuel for his body in him. He needed the fuel so he could not go hypothermic. He would at least try to eat right before he went to sleep. That would raise his internal temperature as it processed the food, helping at least a little in counteracting the cold of the autumn night. He had his puffy pullover, a windshell, and a down lap blanket to cover up in. He was trying to avoid cracking out the vacuum-packed double thick casualty space blanket. He didn’t have a good way to pack it once it was pulled out and he was trying to save it until he really needed it.
He only had to go another mile or two to get to a small pond he knew should also have some cattail and aquatic critters to augment his energy bars, as well as fill his water bladders. He just had to keep one foot ahead of the other.
On foot, he was a week from his cabin, he figured. The route he was taking would bring him to several natural choke points where he could watch for them. Part of him wanted to get his trail deep into a dead end, then break contact with his trackers so He could get over to where Angelique was headed. The problem with that was if they were good enough to stay on his trail, he would be leading them to her rather than keeping her safe.
He knew he had at least a concussion, or worse. There was nothing to be done in the backcountry for it other than rest, hope and prayer. Dehydration, however was something he could do something about. He just had to find more water. His bottle filter would take care of making it safe so he didn’t have to risk a fire.
He had some energy bars and other things for food, but for the body to process food, it needs water. He had to get the water so he could get the fuel for his body in him. He needed the fuel so he could not go hypothermic. He would at least try to eat right before he went to sleep. That would raise his internal temperature as it processed the food, helping at least a little in counteracting the cold of the autumn night. He had his puffy pullover, a windshell, and a down lap blanket to cover up in. He was trying to avoid cracking out the vacuum-packed double thick casualty space blanket. He didn’t have a good way to pack it once it was pulled out and he was trying to save it until he really needed it.
He only had to go another mile or two to get to a small pond he knew should also have some cattail and aquatic critters to augment his energy bars, as well as fill his water bladders. He just had to keep one foot ahead of the other.