Drifting Smoke

[Ozarks Tom]

Yes, thanks Bret, enjoying every chapter.

[meandtk]

May 8, 2018 0:50:03 GMT Ozarks Tom said:

Yes, thanks Bret, enjoying every chapter.

Ditto

[bretf]

You're welcome, glad you're enjoying it.
And thanks for commenting.


Chapter 16

The door to the house opened and Clay Lloyd stepped out. “Chad, Carol, you’re here. Come on in and get dry and warm,” he said.

“What about our goat?” Chad asked.

Clay noticed the goat, cart, and Howie for the first time. “Oh yeah. We can put the goat up in the garage. It’s not like it’s any good for my truck anymore, so I turned it into my barn. And it looks like you have someone else traveling with you.”

“This is Howie, my cousin. He came into Philmont just before we were leaving,” Chad said.

“Hi Howie, good to meet you,” Clay said, then turned back into the house and called, “Hey Anna, the Smokes are here. Can you take Carol in while I help with their beast of burden?” Turning back to the Smoke family he said, “You can go on in if you want Carol. Now let’s get your goat cared for so we can all go in.” He led the way to the side door of the garage and opened it. The room was warmer than the outside with the musty smell of hay and manure. Two horses standing near a hay manger looked up when they stepped inside.

Chevon was quickly released from the cart and unharnessed. He went straight to the manger and pulled a mouthful of loose hay free. At Clay’s direction, the cart was put behind wood panels that protected the small pile of hay from the horses. “This should be good for now, so let’s get in the house,” Clay said with a shiver. He’d gone outside without putting a coat on.

When the group had settled around the kitchen table with hot drinks, Clay said, “You know, your timing couldn’t have been much better. Would you mind getting a ride in a truck tomorrow for sixteen miles of your trip?”

“Of course we wouldn’t mind,” Chad said. “Especially with this snow on the ground. What do you have in mind?”

Like had happened in Wyoming with the group who’d given Chad and Carol the ride leaving home, limited oil production and refining had been re-established near Farmington, New Mexico. Some commerce had grown in the area due to the fuel. Though new parts weren’t available for any of the vehicles they operated, there was an abundance of trucks around to rob parts from to keep a small fleet of vehicles moving. In fact, it was how Chad met Clay. He’d driven a truck across the mountain to trade for meat produced at Philmont.

“I’m sure you remember our conversation about your brother’s house and earthship homes,” Clay said. “There’re a few of them scattered around town, but if you really want to see some, you need to go to The Greater World Community, sixteen miles out of town. The entire development is made up of earthships. It so happens a friend of mine needs to drive up there tomorrow. Those people grow a lot of excess food in their places now. I’m sure you all could ride along and we could make the introductions, and you could see what they do there. Who knows, you might learn something you can take home and adapt for your place.”

“I’d love to see what they have, and I know I speak for all of us when I say we’d ove a ride, too,” Chad said. There were murmurs of agreement from Carol and Howie. “Anytime we can get a ride that’ll take an hour to go where we’d spend all day walking, we’ll take it.”

#

John sat on the seat of the truck, wide eyed as it sped down the road. Sped was a generous term. The road was deteriorated and filled with potholes from years of neglect, but they still moved substantially faster than John had ever moved in his life. Though they were extremely rare sights, he’d seen a few trucks moving on their own instead of having horses pulling them. But it was something completely different to sit in one and have the world rush by so fast. Carol smiled at his amazement while she chatted with Kevan, the driver. She felt guilty to be sitting on the padded seat in the warm cab while Chad, Howie, and Clay were in the back of the truck. But Chad had insisted she ride in front with the kids, and she’d agreed without much of an argument. It was priceless to see her son’s reaction.

The truck slowed and Kevan pointed to some buildings. Carol did a double take. “What are they?” she asked.

Kevan chuckled and said, “Those are houses, the earthsips your husband wants to look over.”

Carol shook her head slowly, as amazed by the buildings as John was with the ride. They were the strangest looking houses she’d ever seen. Kevan slowed further, turned off the highway onto a secondary road, and soon pulled to a stop in front of one of the bizarre buildings. Kevan grinned at Carol’s look of wonder, a near match for her son’s.

#

The men got out of the back of the truck, looking like they were glad the ride was over. Chad and Howie had their arms pulled tight to their torsos, and gave occasional shudders from the cold. Clay was better prepared and the cold hadn’t affected him as much.

Chad looked up and stared at the strange house in front of them. It was a U-shaped building of adobe or concrete, he wasn’t sure which, with patterns throughout the walls which appeared to be the bottoms of bottles. The area between the legs of the U was all glass, reminding him of Mat’s home. The roof was lined with solar panels.

“Come on, let’s go in,” Kevan said. “Though he doesn’t get many chances nowadays, there’s nothing Ray likes better than showing off his house and telling all about it.” He led the way to the door and knocked. Standing near the building, Chad decided those were indeed bottles inset into the wall.

The door opened and a weathered man with a white beard stood there smiling. Chad was surprised to see him. Following That Day, many of the older folks had died off. So many people were on maintenance drugs or unable to cope with the changes that took place, at times it seemed the entire generation had died off. The man smiled knowingly and asked, “What’s the matter kid, not expecting to see an old hippy out here, or maybe you think I’m Santy Claus?”

“Uh, not Santa Clause, but hippy?” Chad stammered. He wasn’t familiar with the term.

The man cackled with laughter and said, “Well don’t just stand there slack jawed. Come in out of the cold.”

The group followed the man inside, into a tropical jungle. Part of it made Chad feel like he was home again, but it was different, a lot different. Where they’d only grown basic vegetables at home, the garden they’d just entered held much more. There were melons, artichokes, squash, tomatoes, grape vines, and he gawked when he saw a lemon and an orange tree. Mushrooms clung to a log. Their host saw him looking at a pond and said, “Yes, I raise tilapia there.” It was all so much more than Chad had ever considered growing at home.

The man smiled and held his hand out to the newcomers. “I’m Ray, and you are?” he asked as he shook hands and introductions were made.

“Clay and I need to load up and get back to town,” Kevan said. “But I’m leaving these fine folks here for you to bore with all the qualities of your pile of garbage you call a house.” He grinned at Ray when he addressed the unusual home.

“Bore them? Garbage?” Ray sputtered. “You sure like everything we grow here.”

“Yes we do, and we really appreciate everything. I just love to see your reaction when I call your house garbage,” Ray said.

“Just because some of us were smart enough to recycle everything you cast off when the world was bent on self-destruction, you ingrate. Now load up so I can show the place to someone who’ll appreciate it,” Ray said.

Kevan and Clay made towards some wooden crates filled with produce and Chad stopped them. “Thank you Clay for giving us a place to stay last night. It, well, it was great of you to open your house up like that. I won’t forget your hospitality. And Kevan, we really appreciate the ride. It would’ve taken us a day on foot to get here.”

“My pleasure Chad,” Clay said. “Now I suppose we should get your gear and goat unloaded before we put this stuff in the truck. I don’t want it all to end up as goat food.”

Soon, Kevan and Clay drove away towards the next place where they could pick up fresh produce, Kevan grumbling about the goat pellets they’d brushed out of the back of the truck.

Ray was a great host, showing Chad where to put their gear and Chevon, then he showed the family all the amenities of his house. It used many of the same principles as Mat’s house, utilizing sunlight and thermal mass for passive solar heating and cooling. But where Mat had used concrete and stone and built into a hillside, Ray’s house, as well as most of the houses at Greater World Community, utilized discarded tires packed with dirt for their mass. They were coated with either concrete or adobe. The interior walls were primarily adobe and also had glass bottle patterns.

The source of water for Ray’s home and all the homes in the community was drastically different from Mat’s house. Mat had a natural spring piped into his home. The homes at Greater World used catchment systems, collecting all the rain and snow possible for their water needs. All runoff flowed through filters into cisterns and all water was used more than once. Drains from the sinks and showers provided water for the toilet, clothes washing, and the indoor plants. Even the toilet water was utilized again, used to water outdoor areas following a process in the septic tank.

Ray’s house also had power, something Mat had wanted to add but ran out of money before he was able to accomplish. Along with the solar panels, most homes in the community had wind generators resembling art sculptures. And everything possible had been made from recycled materials.

Ray pointed out the original design of his home had one third of the space dedicated for food production. The house provided most of his basic needs, and had not needed the grid even before it’d gone down. He and Chad talked into the afternoon about the home, comparing features of it and Mat’s home far to the north.

When Chad asked about the batteries for storing the wind and solar power, it was the one time Ray looked crestfallen. “Yes, they have a useable live span, and unfortunately, they no longer work at peak efficiency. They’ve been going downhill for some time, but you know what? Even in the state they’re in now, they’re still better than what most everyone else outside of here has.”

When the conversation about the house waned, Ray said, “I saw a guitar case in your trailer. I suppose one of you must know how to use it to pack it around with you.”

“Yeah, I play,” Chad said. “Though I’m not sure how well it’ll tune now after being in the cold and damp so much.”

“Well I think we need to find out. Do you know any Creedence?” Ray asked.

“A few songs, but I’m no John Fogerty,” Chad said.

“Of course you’re not, he’s one of a kind,” Ray said. “Now get that thing in here where it can acclimate.” With that, Ray went to a counter and raised the mic of a CB radio and spoke into it. John was amazed yet again, as other voices spoke out of the box.

Within an hour, Ray’s house was filled to capacity. There were several musicians in the community and they took advantage of every opportunity they got to jam. Chad was lost in the music, picking up a few new songs as he did each time he played with a new group. He was torn when Ray called a stop to the festivities; he wanted to play longer, but he also needed to rest before taking off the next morning.

After everyone was gone, Ray led the family to unused bedrooms. John and Howie were in one, Chad Carol and Faith in another.

Carol and Chad snuggled together in a real bed, between real sheets as Faith slept soundly. “Are you sure it won’t take us more than three months to get home?” she whispered.

“As best as I can figure, and it should take less,” Chad murmured.

“Good,” Carol said and her hands began to roam, causing his skin to tingle everywhere she touched.

“Good indeed,” he sighed, and then added, “No, this feels a lot better than good.”

He fell asleep soon afterwards and drifted in a dream world. In the dream, he was at another jam, back home. Carol’s dad John, their son’s namesake, was seated beside him, instructing him on the chords to play. Carol watched them, her unblemished face glowing. He woke from the dream happy for the memory but saddened he’d never see the elder John again. He’d be eternally grateful to him for the gift of music he’d passed on. And for his wonderful daughter. He sniffed and wiped the tears welling in his eyes with the side of his hand.

[themotherhen]

bretf, I'm glad to see the family put miles in between themselves and Bob! Thanks

[bretf]

Chapter 17

Following the day with a late start in the snow and the next day riding in a truck, first dawn saw Chad lead the way out of the Greater World Community. Most of the snow had melted off the roads the previous day and the sky was clear and turning vibrant blue with the rising sun. The two easy days with each night spent in a house on real beds without watching their encampments had done wonders for them. And though he and Carol hadn’t gone to sleep right away the previous night, it’d been very satisfying for them and they seemed to glow as they started their walk. Their backs and legs had gotten welcome respite from the travel and Chad felt stronger than ever as they started out.

They planned to make it to Tres Piedras, eighteen miles away before stopping for the night. Before the music had gotten underway the previous day, they’d sat around Ray’s table, enjoying oranges of all things, while Chad and Ray discussed which route would be best to take. When Chad pointed to the spot on his map and asked Ray about it, the man laughed. “There’s not a dang thing there now. Its claim to fame was as a crossroads where the two state highways met as you can see on your map. But what little was there died along with the traffic. There’re just a few old building shells there now. But with that said, I think somewhere around there would be a good place for you to stop for the night. Between here and there, there’s not much, mostly sagebrush plains. It should be good traveling there. When you leave there, you can take either highway, but according to the reports I’ve heard, I’d recommend you stay on Highway 64 and head for Pagosa Springs. If you go that way, once you leave Tres Piedras, the road starts climbing again and heads into the mountains. So if you can make it there tomorrow, you can get a good night’s sleep before tackling those mountains. And the good news,” he pointed to a gauge on the wall, “The barometer is rising. It looks like you should have some good weather for a while.”

Ray had pointed on the map to another intersection of state highways. “Now at this point, as I already said, I’d head north to Pagosa Springs; it’ll be the next real town you’ll go through. Highway 64 will keep heading west, so right here,” he said, his finger following the red line on the map, “You’ll get on 84 and go more north. They’ve got a pretty good set-up there, in Pagosa Springs I mean, with a lot of the comforts of the old world. In the past, it was famous for the hot springs. After the world went to crap, they set up big hothouses heated by the water and have limited electricity from some generators in the San Juan River.”

“It all sounds good to me Ray,” Chad said. “It’s one of the routes I was considering, depending on what reports I heard about the area once we made it here.” He took a paper book mark out of the atlas, laid it against the map’s scale and marked it with a pencil, then laid it along the path Ray had indicated. After following the red line’s twists and turns he said, “It looks like a little over a hundred miles. I’m afraid to guess how many days it’ll take us to cover it, since we’ve taken four days just to get over eighty miles from Philmont, and a nice section of it was in a truck,” he said dejectedly. The pace was within his hoped for timeframe to make it home in two months, but he didn’t think they’d be able to catch many rides on the way.

So after leaving Ray’s home, they spent long hours each day walking. As Ray said, it was good going to Tres Piedras, the open prairie offering miles of visibility. They saw neither traffic of any kind, nor people. Chad was fine without the people, but he wouldn’t have turned down a ride along the way. He also didn’t find much growing along the road which was a big disappointment. Along with his backpack, he had a messenger bag slung across a shoulder. He’d used it to collect plants in their travels, both medicinal and edible. The plants always helped supplement their diet as well as provide barter materials in the settlements they’d go through. As it was, he had a few dandelion greens and nothing more. There was more snow than plants and dirt alongside the road. It was too early in the season for much to be growing, and what was, he had a hard time identifying. The few plants he saw needed more growth before he could tell for certain what they were. So he plodded along with only the occasional rest periods with his family to break the monotony.

Once they left Tres Piedras, the terrain changed. They passed through the Carson National Forest and areas mixed with prairie, forest, and deserted farms. Three days from Tres Piedras had been without incident. They’d made excellent time and Chad thought it was possible they could reach Pagosa Springs late the following day.

On the fifth day out of Greater World, they were still some distance from Pagosa Springs, the highway twisting through a sporadic pine forested area. A steep bank rose on the left side of the road, and the ground sloped down to a small stream on the right, before climbing away. Gray leafless clumps of brush were scattered amongst the green and white slopes. Chad was out in front as always, Carol nowhere to be seen behind him.

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!” a voice called out. Everything else went silent, not a bird or squirrel making a noise anywhere.

Chad looked in the direction the voice had come from, searching for the source. Fight or flight? flashed through his mind. Seeing nothing but brush, trees, and snow, he turned to look back down the road, to make sure Carol hadn’t appeared.

“I SAID TO HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!” the voice called out and was accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a pump shotgun jacking a round into the chamber.





Copyright 2018 Bret W. Friend

[cccindy]

Good guy or bad guy? Thanks for another step on the way home, Bret!

[bretf]

May 16, 2018 21:23:49 GMT cccindy said:

Good guy or bad guy? Thanks for another step on the way home, Bret!

I'm sure Chad is dying to know the same thing. Oops, that was a poor choice of words.
He'd love to know the same thing!


Chapter 18

Chad froze where he was and slowly raised his rifle above his head in his right hand. The left hand holding the walking staff remained still.

“All right, that’s better. Now very carefully lay your rifle and pistol on the road and step forward ten paces,” the voice called.

Chad considered whether he should follow the instructions or not when a branch snapped on the opposite side of the road from the voice. He cursed silently to himself, knowing we was covered from two sides and couldn’t see either person, if it was only two. For all he knew, there could be several people covering him. It would be impossible to fight invisible foes from two sides at the same time. He placed both guns carefully on the pavement and called out, “What about my pack?”

“Keep it on, but drop the little bag nice and gently, then walk ahead.”

Chad cursed silently again. The pack was cumbersome and would slow him down if he had to make any sudden movements. The hidden man knew it as well. He chanced a glance behind him as he moved forward.

“What’re you looking for? The woman and the other fella that’re following you?” the man called out. “It’s all right, we can take care of them after we finish with you.”

Chad’s breath caught and he considered lunging for his rifle, but knew he couldn’t make it before bullets would rip into him from two sides. His heart pounded and adrenaline surged through his system. His brain told him he had to fight if they already knew about Carol and had plans for her after they finished him. But he couldn’t fight someone he couldn’t see, especially not knowing for sure where or how many they were. To fight now would be suicide. He’d have to wait until he saw his assailants and try to take them out from up close. At least they hadn’t fired out of ambush so maybe he still had a chance. The pack seemed to double in weight as he moved further from his rifle. But he still had the walking staff and his hand clenched and unclenched on it as he walked.

“That’s far enough, now lay down on your front with your hands out ahead of you,” the voice called.

He did as he was told, still holding the staff firmly. When he moved his right arm towards his pack strap to try to get out from under its weight it didn’t go unnoticed.

“If you want to keep that hand, you better stop moving it right now,” the man yelled. “Have you ever seen a hand that took a full charge of number two shot from a twelve gauge three-inch magnum? Let me tell you, it aint pretty. And it’ll probably mess up your pretty face too while it’s at it.”

Chad’s hand froze. He assessed the situation and it wasn’t pretty either. Weighted down by his pack with nothing but his staff to face an unknown number of people. Not pretty at all. He willed Carol to stop before she came into view. Maybe if he caused the men to shoot it would give her enough warning to take cover. He tensed his muscles to try to lunge the moment one of the men appeared.

The man materialized out of the brush and snow in a ghillie suit so well made, Chad wasn’t sure it was a man until he’d made several steps towards him. He stopped well out of Chad’s reach and said, “Who are you, where are you going, and what’re your intentions?”

Chad flexed his hand on the staff and measured the distance to the man. There was no way to reach him where he stood. For the time being, he had to cooperate. “My name is Chad Smoke. At the moment, I’m heading to Pagosa Springs, but that should be obvious since I’m traveling on this road,” he said.

“Don’t get smart,” the man said. “What’s your business in Pagosa?”

“We’re, er I’m just passing through,” Chad said, regretting using the plural, even though the man knew Carol and Howie were trailing him.

The man caught his slip and addressed it. “Go on, what are you and the folks behind you doing here?”

Chad bit back another smart retort. He’d have to play along. “WE,” he said with strong emphasis, “Are on our way to Idaho. We spent the winter in Philmont, and folks in Taos and the Greater World Community said this was the best route to go. We also thought we might spend a day of rest in Pagosa Springs if it was agreeable, before moving on again. But we weren’t expecting to be accosted by highwaymen.”

The man laughed and said, “Well then you’re too dang naïve. You should expect to be accosted anywhere and anytime nowadays.”

“My mistake,” Chad snapped.

The man chuckled at his tone and asked, “So who’s that following you? Your wife, or are you the odd man out of the trio?”

Chad didn’t want to answer, but didn’t see as he had a choice. But maybe the man had a soft spot in his heart for families. “Yes, my wife, my son and daughter, and my cousin.”

“Uh huh. So why on earth are you draggin’ your family clear to Idaho?” The man’s tone seemed softer.

Chad flexed his hand on his staff. It seemed as if the man was relaxing and he’d have more of a chance to take him. “That’s where we’re from, my wife and I. We’ve been traveling for some time and are trying to get back home.”

It was quiet for several moments before the man said, “All right, let go of the stick and stand up so I can get a better look at you.” A bird call sounded from the brush to the right side of the road and the man looked beyond Chad and said, “And don’t do something stupid. If that really is your wife and kids who just rounded the curve back there, you don’t want to have them watch you get shot.”

Chad struggled to stand under the weight of his pack, glancing back down the road behind him. As the man said, Carol was in view. Looking back at the man in the ghillie suit, he saw the barrel of the shotgun clearly for the first time. With it aimed directly at him, it looked as big as one of the culverts running under the highway. But if he was going to do something, he had to do it soon. “So I told you who I am and what I’m doing here. What about you? What are your intentions?” he demanded, missing the comfort of his staff. At least with it he had a weapon, though it was little enough to face the man with the shotgun aimed directly at him. “Are you going to rob us? Kill us?” He was running out of time and had to determine the man’s intentions before Carol and the kids got any closer. Howie too, he mentally amended.

The corners of the man’s mouth turned up. “Rob you?” he said with a chuckle. “You look pretty rough, so I doubt you have anything I want. Looking at you, I’m willing to believe your story about traveling.” He caught Chad’s glance behind him. “Including your guns. I’m not an AK guy and I couldn’t hit a barn wall with your pistol. I’ll stick with this,” he said, patting the shotgun he held. The barrel still looked enormous pointing straight at Chad. “Now with this,” the man continued, “I can hit anything I aim at. Anything big or small, and you’re a pretty big target.”

“So then wha—” Chad started before he was interrupted.

“Now I’ve eliminated robbing you. That brings us to killing you. I reckon that’s totally up to you. I don’t necessarily want to, but give me one reason and I won’t hesitate, not for a moment,” the man said with a grim look on his face. “Now do you have anything to change in your story? The woman is getting closer, and she’s waving. It’s not a normal wave. It looks like some kind of signal.”

Chad measured the distance to his staff compared to the distance to the man. There was no way he could get to the man in time to save himself, but maybe he’d be fast enough to save Carol and the kids. As if reading his mind, branches snapped and broke on the other side of the road. Chad closed his eyes and groaned. “Who are you? Why did you stop me?” he asked.

The man studied him, saw the pain on his face. “I’m part of the forward guard to Pagosa Springs. Now signal your wife.”

[joebill]

Memorable historical cultural event took place in that area, bretf,.....



enjoy......by the way, GREAT story......Joe

[bretf]

Thanks Joe,
I haven’t heard that song in years and had forgotten all about the ending.


Chapter 19

“So did you like me jacking the round into my shotgun?” the guard asked with a grin. “I always laughed like mad and cussed the dang fools when I saw that stunt pulled in movies and TV shows. I figured they were real dipwads if they weren’t already locked and loaded. And talk about wasting ammo. But you know, I learned it’s a dang good attention getter out here,” he added with a hearty laugh. “And of course I was already locked and loaded, but it really grabs a man’s attention and gets the point across.”

“It certainly got mine,” Chad said dryly.

“Yeah, I saw your face. Yelling at you to stop was one thing, but to know there was a shotgun pointed right at you, well, it adds to the effectiveness big time. It removes the guessing from your part. Anybody with half a brain should know better than face a 12 gauge at close range.”

“So what now?” Chad asked, chancing a glance behind him. Carol was a lot closer, and Howie and the goat and trailer were in view.

“As long as you don’t do something stupid, we’ll disarm all of you and one of us will escort you on into town,” the man said.

“Out of curiosity, how many men are covering me and how did you know about my wife and cousin trailing behind me?” Chad asked.

The man grinned and said, “I’ll just say there are enough of us here to face small groups and we have a way to warn the town if it’s something we can’t handle. Now I’m going to collect your guns and unload them alright?” A branch popped off the road as a reminder to Chad he was still covered.

“No problem,” Chad said, and stood in place while the man gathered his guns off the road.

After the weapons were unloaded the guard stood near Chad and waited as Carol approached. “Everything’s fine here Ma’am if your man is telling the truth. You come on but leave that rifle on your shoulder,” he called. When she was near, he said, “That’s close enough. Now carefully unsling your rifle and lay it down.” Chad noted the shotgun’s muzzle was pointed directly at his chest. Carol did as she was told and the man turned to Chad with a question on his face. “I don’t recognize her rifle. What is it?”

“It’s a fifty caliber air rifle,” Chad said.

The guard raised his eyebrows. “Fifty? In an air rifle?” he asked incredulously.

“Yep,” Chad said. “My brother got it before the world fell apart. We have molds with us to make bullets out of old tire weights so we don’t have to rely on factory ammunition.”
The man looked thoughtful and asked, “But what kind of power does it have. Is it really good for anything?”

“When we get to Pagosa Springs, I’ll tell you a story about my brother and how we met, and you can form your own opinion,” Chad said.

“I’ll take you up on that,” the man said and returned his focus to Carol. He walked over to her and looked her up and down. “Pardon me Ma’am, but I need to make sure you really have a baby in that sling and not a gun,” he said.

Carol blanched slightly and kept her hands still, trying not to give anything away. Her mind flashed to Rory Young and her vow to never be a victim again. “Go ahead, but it’s nearly time for her to eat. She might start fussing when you disturb her.”

As Carol predicted, Faith stirred and her face puckered up. She was on the verge of crying as the man checked her. “All right Ma’am. If you need to feed her, you can go over there,” he said, pointing to the barrow pit on the side of the road he’d approached Chad from. “You can have a semblance of privacy there.”

Carol glanced at Chad and he gave a slight nod. She walked to the roadside, sat with her back to them, and let Faith nurse.

“So you have a so-called assault rifle and a 9mm, and all your wife has is an air gun, what’s your cousin packing?” the guard asked. “A slingshot?”

“It’d probably be safer for all of us if he did. He was an anti-gun nut before. But no, he’s got a .22 pistol,” Chad said.

“Sounds like you have another story to tell me later,” the man said. “And I like the goat and trailer. That’s a good idea.” He took several steps away from Chad, out of the firing line if Chad gave his companions cause to start shooting. “Stop there,” he told Howie and hold your arms out.

Howie did as he was told and the man approached and took the pistol from his holster. Watching Howie’s eyes the entire time, he saw only fear, nothing to indicate the man would fight back.

“Why you take Mom an Oowie’s guns?” John asked from the cart. “They no do nuttin wong.”

The man was momentarily startled and then chuckled when he saw the toddler in the cart. He was nestled in beneath sleeping bags, only his face visible. “I’m just making sure they continue not doing anything wrong,” he said. “That looks like a nice seat you have there.”

“It okay but wan be wi Dad,” John stated.

The man smiled, unloaded Howie’s pistol and put it and the magazine in a large pocket. “Where is your dad?” he asked. Though he was inclined to believe Chad’s story, it never hurt to be extra cautious. From what he knew of little kids, the boy wouldn’t have rehearsed lies.

“That Dad,” John said pointing at Chad. “You talk him we get here.”

“Oh yeah, I was talking to him, wasn’t I?” the man said and turned back to Chad.

“Satisfied?” Chad asked.

“Yes, but it never hurts to make sure nowadays,” the guard said. He made a sign to the side of the road where Chad had heard the noises and another shape in a ghillie suit appeared. “Well Amy, it looks like you get to go into town early. These folks need an official escort.”

The hood of the ghillie suit flew back and a lovely young woman’s face appeared. She had a dark complexion and her black hair glistened with the sunlight. “Escort? Is that what this is now? An escort service? Geez Dad, I can’t believe you’d say something like that. Humph!” she said.

“Folks, meet my daughter Amy. She never misses a chance to bust my chops if I say something wrong,” the man said. “And I’m Chuck Gray. Amy will walk you into town and take you to see the council. They’ll want to talk to you before you go anywhere else. And don’t consider trying anything with her. She’s not as sweet as she looks. Or sounds,” he said as an afterthought.” Amy stuck her tongue out at him in response.

Chad said, “All we’re going to try is to get to town before dark. We’ve been walking pretty hard the past few days and were hoping we could get there today and then have a day of rest before pushing on.”

“Good. I’ll try to find you tomorrow and you can tell me about that rifle. Now you all better get going. You’re going to be pushing it to get to town by dark,” Chuck said. He handed first the air rifle and then Chad’s rifle to his daughter. She strapped them to a backpack and then put the pistols and magazines in a compartment in the pack.

“You’ve done this before,” Chad commented.

“I sure have,” Amy said and stood and slung the pack on her back, adjusted the straps and belt. The belt had a holster with what Chad guessed was a .45. Amy saw his gaze and patted it. “And unlike my dad, I can hit anything with this.” She took the pistol out and Chad saw he’d guessed correctly. She motioned with it down the road and said, “Now, shall we go?”

Despite being a guard, Amy made a pleasant traveling companion on the final five miles to Pagosa Springs. She answered most of their questions and asked many of her own about their travels.

About two miles from the town, they met three people traveling their way. “Everything okay Amy?” one asked.

“Sure. These folks are just passing through but Dad wanted me to bring them into town to make sure they don’t get into any mischief,” she said. “So when he asks about us, act like you don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“You know I can’t do that. He’d come unglued and I don’t want to be anywhere around if that happens.”

“Spoilsport. See you in a couple days,” Amy told him. “Now let’s get to town you guys. I have a date with the bathtub.”

“That sounds heavenly,” Carol said. “Is there anywhere we could get a bath in town? It’s been a while for us.”

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Amy said.

Chad glanced at the three men walking in the opposite direction and asked, “Are they your dad’s relief, and they switch out after dark so it’s harder to be seen?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Now Are you coming or not?”

Chad grinned at the lack of an answer. It was pretty much what he expected.

Copyright 2018 Bret W. Friend

[Deleted]

May 21, 2018 13:10:15 GMT joebill said:

Memorable historical cultural event took place in that area, bretf,.....



enjoy......by the way, GREAT story......Joe

Man, I love me some CW McCall!

CJ5 is one of my faves.

[bretf]

Chapter 20

Bob sat bolt upright and frantically kicked the snow that covered the opening to his refuge away. It didn’t matter if his tracks were found or not. He couldn’t stay in that confined hole for another minute. Nothing mattered at the moment but getting out of there.

The nightmares had become a part of him whether awake or asleep, they flooded his muddled mind. As the snow piled up around his shelter, he existed in a state of semi-consciousness, never able to escape the nightmares and the voices. The searchers be damned, he had to get away from there, to leave the haunting dreams behind.

The storm had raged for several days. Bob wasn’t sure how many; days and nights melded together while he was stuck there. As the storm raged, wind came, carrying the voices of the guard, his mother, Smoke the Boy Scout, and several of his victims on it. And the longer the wind howled, he heard only one voice, one that tormented him; the do-gooder Smoke. He was so smug, offering his private lessons on how to talk to women. If he only knew. Bob regretted not slashing out with his knife and removing the smug look on the spot. But he hadn’t, and it would be worth it to see the look wiped off his face when he used his knife on the Smoke’s own wife.

He knew getting away from his refuge wouldn’t be enough to get the voice totally out of his head, but it would be a start. There was only one way to end the torment. Feeling, seeing, smelling the blood as it flowed from Smoke’s body after he’d watched his wife die slowly was needed to exorcise his voice.

Obsessed with finding the man and ending his torment, Bob trudged away in knee deep snow. The bright moon shone ahead on the snow, lighting his way, drawing him on. He felt a stirring inside. The light pulled him. It was a message from above. He had to follow the light, just as the wise men had followed the light of the star.

Bob followed, certain it was his path to deliverance.





Copyright 2018 Bret W. Friend

[Ozarks Tom]

Bob is lucky he wasn't in any of my stories, I'd have killed the SOB in the first chapter.

[cccindy]

Ugh, I was beginning to hope he'd frozen in that hole.
Thanks for another update

[joebill]

Tom, your writing about yourself has always reminded me a bit of Charlie Siringo's. He was the first range cowboy ever to write an autobiography, and a lot of it was a pure hoot.

If you follow the link below and then scan down the page until you reach the preface, his opening paragraphs are typical of the rest of his writings, but the remainder of the book follows the preface and can be read for free, although sometimes they skip sections. Charlie's coyright expired during his life, and he wrote the same dang book over again, in different words, so he could continue selling them out of his saddlebags.

books.google.com/books?id=Y-tCPKpQeHIC&pg=PT9&lpg=PT9&dq=beginning+chapter+of+charlie+siringo's+book&source=bl&ots=ot53bEUhu9&sig=RVQTWSXfkoLggsN-v1uTXpkZM1U&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjPlsfF367bAhV1NH0KHYT2AHsQ6AEIXjAP#v=onepage&q=beginning%20chapter%20of%20charlie%20siringo's%20book&f=false

He wrote several books, and I have enjoyed them all.......Joe

[joebill]

I see now that the rest of the book is not free, but it can certainly be gotten for free or for less than Google is trying to charge if anybody is interested....Joe