Dana

Lost and Found A hasty fighting retreat into wilderness Based on actual events Updated 12-6-08 A my-wild-side.com original CLICK HERE to see the full list of current wild side features!

Kathy

(Continued from PART ONE: One wounded adventurer is surprised by two beauties from his past...)

THE STORY SO FAR: Outlaw-adventurer Jerry Staute is investigating the mystery of a small mountain lodge deep in the Tennessee mountains, which looks to be a serious impediment to his friend's development of a ski resort in the area. While so employed Staute has been surprised to encounter two women from his distant past. Staute invited the ladies to accompany him on a hike to the lodge, figuring it to be a routine walk.

I'm not sure where he'd been hiding. But apparently he'd been watching us while we inspected the property.

We'd spread out some for a bit over the grounds, then converged again, then dispersed once more in our investigation. When we came back together the second time he let us know he was there at last, stepping out from around one corner of the main house.

I couldn't be sure if he'd come from inside the house or been outside all along. But he was dressed not much different from us: as if for an extended stay outdoors.

He wasn't wearing hunting specialty items of any kind, but rather clothes more suited to general purpose hiking or camping.

He was carrying a military style rifle. The only such item I could detect on him. So I didn't take him as military or ex-military.

He wasn't a big guy. Just roughly my size, or maybe a bit smaller. He definitely seemed slimmer than me-- and I was fairly lean at that age myself.

He wore no hat. His eyes were hidden by mirrored sunglasses. In those days you most often saw mirrored glasses on state highway troopers and a certain percentage of the civilian population. I decided I couldn't deduce much from that.

"Hello there! Out for a little walk?" he spoke loudly.

"Hi! We were just admiring your house! I hope you don't mind," I responded. It was possible he was the owner, or a friend or relative. Or a guard or house-sitter maybe. I was very glad we'd done nothing damaging to the property.

"No, I don't mind. It's not my place," he told us, now standing his ground about ten yards away, his AR-15 pointing generally in our direction but not specifically at any one of us. The rifle had a shoulder strap but its wielder wasn't using it as he should have been. Which would have been sloppy for a soldier. The strap was hanging loose underneath the weapon.

I couldn't be sure his AR-15 was a semi-auto. If somehow he had a true military version, it'd be a real machine gun. He could also have illegally modified a semi-auto civilian version to full-auto.

"So do you know who it belongs to?" I asked, trying to keep everything on friendly terms. We were possibly way outgunned here if he had a full-auto AR-15 against my .38 Special revolver. I was hoping my vest had so far hidden the small pistol on my hip from his sight. But under the current circumstances its presence might not have concerned him much, anyway.

I noticed the guy sure did seem to smile a lot. So I began thinking of him as Smiley.

"Ah, some fool with more money than sense, I reckon," Smiley answered.

"Yeah, it does seem odd to put this place up in the middle of nowhere like this. Did you see it being built?" I asked.

"No." Smiley was still grinning, but seemed increasingly annoyed by my questions. I started to ask another and he cut me off to address Kathy and Dana.

"Well now, aren't you two some sweet peas to be up on the mountain like this!"

I wanted to interfere with his direct address to the women, but I also knew we had to be very careful here. We were literally in no man's land at the moment-- and outgunned-- with no authority around higher than Smiley's AR-15.

Dana had lived in this region much of her life too just like me, so she had to be cognizant of the same priorities. Namely, we wanted to try to peacefully extricate ourselves from this little situation as soon as possible, and get away from that AR-15.

So Dana answered Smiley.

"You say that like you've been here a while," Yes! Dana was continuing the questioning! Or trying to anyway.

"Long enough, honey," Smiley replied. "Where'd you folks leave your four wheel at?"

"We walked in," Dana answered truthfully. Sort of. She was thinking on her feet. Not giving Smiley any more info than she had to.

"You two ladies don't look like the type to walk this far."

"Looks can be deceiving," Dana told him. "You look like you're alone but you're not. Am I right?"

Smiley's grin almost left his face at that, but then he caught himself.

"Well, well, well! Appears we got us a Miss Sherlock Holmes here! Yeah, I'm up here with friends all right. How'd you guess, sweet thing?"

Dana ignored that question to continue with her amazing unraveling of Smiley's recent past history.

"You've been up here a while. You and your friends. At least a couple weeks. You've been expecting someone, but not us."

Smiley's eyebrows both went up slightly and his eyes widened before he caught the tell and squelched it.

"Am I right so far?" Dana asked.

"Go on sweet thing. I like hearing you talk," Smiley replied.

I couldn't believe it. Dana had more.

"You're running low on supplies and your previous source is running dry. So you're going to have to change your plans."

"You must be a mind-reader, darlin'," Smiley told her. "Unfortunately, there ain't much call for mind-reading. On the other hand there's plenty of call for some other talents I can tell you got from here-- you and your girl friend," Smiley said, now eyeing the girls lasciviously. Damn. I hoped it hadn't been a huge mistake to invite the women for this hike.

Dana laughed.

"You have no idea," she said, offering our foe a dazzling smile.

"I'll bet!" Smiley responded.

Dana's comment had seemed to encourage or embolden Smiley, and he came nearer to us. At the same time he began to give us orders.

"All right Mr. Bigshot, how about you lay down on the ground now--" Smiley was speaking to me.

"What?"

"Lay down on the ground. And drop the stick. NOW." Smiley ordered me, as he also pointed his rifle muzzle directly at me for the first time.

"I'm sorry. What's going on here?" I stalled for time as Smiley got nearer. I didn't lay down. But I did drop my walking stick. Thereby partly complying with his commands (to reduce my risk of being shot).

"Just pretend I'm a cop and do whatever I say. That goes for you too, little ladies," Smiley told us.

Then Dana helped me out further.

"You don't have to get rough you know. Kathy and I like a good time as much as anyone. Why do you think we're out here with Jerry anyway? You could just join the party. You don't have to crash it."

That surprised Smiley a little too much. He slowed his approach to digest this new misinformation, and his previously forced smile seemed to get a little more genuine.

"Ahh...I told you, I got buddies with me."

"Well, the more the merrier!" Dana smiled, lying like there was no tomorrow. She and I both had to be thinking the same thing: tomorrow might not come for some of us.

Smiley looked at me skeptically.

"I don't think your boyfriend would like that very much."

Dana laughed again.

"Are you kidding? He loves to watch me get it on with other guys!" I tried to support her claim with a sheepish smile. But I wasn't nearly as good at such things as my friend Steve.

"That right?" Smiley asked me directly.

"Well, I also like watching Dana and Kathy get it on with each other," I said, trying to fan the flames I hoped might help us get out of this.

That perked up Smiley even more.

"Really?" Smiley's eyes wandered over the luscious forms of my two exquisite female companions. "Those two are lesbos?"

"It's called bi-sexual, honey," Dana spoke up. "It means we like both guys and girls." I was somewhat surprised that Dana even knew the term. I think the only reason I knew it was exposure to Steve's centerfold magazines in college.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Smiley asked.

Uh oh. It was make or break time for this plot.

"Kathy, come here a minute so we can show him we mean business," Dana ordered.

Kathy to her credit had just followed our lead so far, trying her best not to derail our little plan. Despite knowing little more about what we might be up to than what she'd learned of Dana from the past few hours, and me from my time with her big sis Bridget and our more recent conversations.

And, of course, Kathy had grown up listening to her father Emory's tales of harrowing struggles with bad guys of various stripes.

So Kathy continued her trusting cooperation now as Dana pulled her to her and they began kissing one another, in a close embrace.

After a moment Smiley couldn't help himself and moved in still closer. Maybe without realizing it.

Hell fire if I could blame him! Dana and Kathy were putting on so fine a spectacle it threatened to distract me from carrying out my part! Wow!

I'd half turned to watch the duo too, as Smiley moved in.

It wasn't tough for me to act as enthralled by the sight as Smiley. Heck, I wondered if I might be even worse affected than he. For it looked for all the world to me like the teen age Dana kissing a teen age Bridget. I mean, Dana seemed to have aged hardly at all the past ten years. Her shorter hair was the main difference. And Kathy bore such a striking resemblance to Bridget...Grrr!

I surely hated to end what I was certain to be a once-in-a-lifetime event for me personally, but it had to be done.

When I figured Smiley was close enough I abruptly lunged towards him.

If Smiley himself had been my target I might have failed. For he managed to move slightly before I reached him.

But Smiley wasn't my aim. My true target had been his AR-15.

I successfully managed to combination knock and yank the rifle out of his grasp. I wasn't able to take possession of it, but at least I got it away from him.

I'd tried to emulate the maneuver a fellow had used to save Steve from electrocution on a construction job in Texas. Put everything I had into an all or nothing sweeping grab for the free shoulder strap of the weapon and yank for all I was worth.

I'm not sure why I couldn't hold on to it. I suppose it took so much strength to free it from Smiley that it served to tear the weapon away from me, too.

But Smiley was fast once he realized what was happening. He instantly punched me with a jab to my chest, directly over my heart.

I suppose that was a specialty move of his, because it sure was effective. I knew immediately that he'd injured me in a significant way. I was pretty sure this was a bad sign, as I'd many times been injured and only noticed it or strongly felt it long after the fact.

He'd cracked a rib or two there. I just wouldn't know it for certain for a while yet.

Apparently the guy knew some decent fighting moves. He'd put me in pain immediately, but I figured to use my slight weight advantage over him and tie him up in close quarters to limit his fighting ability. Aided by the adrenalin rush triggered by both my surprise attack and his blow, I managed to seize both his forearms in my hands and hold on tight even as I then fell backwards and to one side to leverage his own movement towards me. We fell together and I managed to roll atop him, pinning him to the ground.

I wasn't sure how long I could hold him though-- even with my small weight advantage-- and so yelled at the girls to run. I had no idea if Smiley might have a pistol on him, or his friends might show, or he might even get hold of my own revolver. My fresh chest injury made my yell an agonizing one. It hurt me even to breathe-- let alone struggle mightily like I was at the moment. I next opened my mouth and bit down hard on Smiley's nose. To return to him some of the pain he'd given me. He yelled in a most gratifying manner.

I was pretty sure Smiley would turn the tables on me again in just a minute or two, but if I could just hold him long enough he'd never be able to catch the girls.

Dear wonderful Dana though realized I was in distress, and refused to leave me behind. Instead she ran and grabbed Smiley's rifle, came back, and stuck the end of the barrel in his ear as I bit his nose.

The rifle muzzle thankfully got his attention, and I was able to release him long enough to retrieve and use some strong nylon string from my own gear to restrain his hands, and gag him with my floppy Vietnam style military hat, as Dana covered him with the rifle.

With Smiley in tow we then all beat a fast retreat from the open space hosting the mystery structure, back to where we'd emerged from the woods.

We then backtracked a ways further to a spot suitable for checking for pursuit and maybe defending ourselves, before we stopped to take stock.

For at the moment we didn't know how many friends Smiley had in the vicinity, where they were, or how they were armed.

From Smiley's previous talk it seemed his friends were cut from the same cloth as himself. And so not welcome company for anyone.

Of course we now had Smiley's AR-15 plus my 38. Smiley also turned out to have an extra clip on him. Plus a tiny two shot derringer. An obscure caliber, it appeared. No extra ammo for it on his person. It looked like he'd carried it a long time without using it. The barrels had lint in them. So I figured the derringer to be barely out of the useless range.

The AR-15 magazines were 20 rounders. But both the extra clip and that attached to the weapon were only half full for some reason.

As soon as I got the chance I would make one full clip from what I had and end up with one .223 caliber bullet left over, to be kept in my pocket. I would hold on to the empty clip too, just in case I found a use for it.

As we'd sort of had to half-drag Smiley with us the whole way, and been moving fast-- plus Smiley bleeding-- we'd left plenty enough trail for even a novice to follow from the edge of the lodge clearing.

But we'd had to make haste in case Smiley's friends had been close by. To get some breathing space.

We could try taking more precautions now-- unless we discovered them hot on our trail.

Smiley looked much worse than me, as his nose was a bloody mess. A mess which had left its red mark down the front of his shirt since leaving the lodge. I'd swallowed a bit of his blood during our struggle, not having the opportunity to spit it out. Yuck!

I sure don't like the taste of blood, but in Smiley's case it made me feel a little better about my own injury.

But that wasn't enough.

Smiley's nose injury looked much worse than it was, I was sure. So we did nothing to treat it.

Though I felt like killing him then and there, I wouldn't do that unless somehow forced into it.

However, I had in the past mangled folks up some when I suspected they'd otherwise continue to come after me. Especially when I thought them capable of hurting others I cared about, too.

Smiley and his buddies would surely come after us.

But I could at least try to reduce Smiley's chances of joining the pursuit. The question was how. Without killing or permanently crippling him, I mean.

I didn't want to shoot out a knee here, due to the gunshot likely giving an immediate alert and possible direction to his friends. I also didn't want to cause an injury which might bleed so much we'd be forced to tarry here and treat it before we left. But man, hurting a guy just right to incapacitate him with those sorts of constraints on you can be pretty tough.

We did try to question him some more, but got little out of him. His real first name was Garrett. His buddies' names included Pete, Kirby, and Hayden. But we couldn't be sure that was a complete list. Or even that a single name was true.

That was all we got out of him.

I discussed the incapacitation matter with the girls, but we couldn't come up with anything as certain and convenient as I'd have liked.

In the end we figured we'd strip Smiley down to his underwear, cut up all the rest of his clothes into useless shreds, and take his shoes with us to discard somewhere he couldn't ever find them.

We'd also tie him securely in place between two trees, but in a manner that he might free one hand from his bonds in an hour or two without assistance (just in case his buddies never showed). Basically we left him enough slack so he might undo a knot with his teeth.

We'd also take off his gag at the last moment when we left-- with a warning to him that if we decided we could hear him yelling for help too soon we might double back and worsen his situation.

As he still refused to divulge anything else even as we set him up so, I gained confidence in the likelihood he really did have buddies out here he expected back at any time.

To counter that smugness I decided to also blindfold him in a way that'd hopefully be darn hard to undo until he had his first hand free.

But all that was just the prelude. The main thing I did to him was whack one of his ankles enough times with the butt of his own AR-15 to cause some muffled screaming through his gag and hopefully sufficient disabling as to prevent him from joining in any chase of us cross-country any time soon. It didn't take a whole lot to get his ankle swelled up something fierce. I might have broken it. But if so no bone pierced the skin (I didn't want that). Hopefully it was at least sprained, maybe even dislocated.

I'd switched out my hat for one of Garrett's own rank socks for his gag, when I had the opportunity. Tied it in place with the other, winding around his head. Man, but did he hate that! Ha, ha.

The girls didn't watch me injure him-- though they surely disliked the guy even more than I.

So-- minus the gag-- that's how we left him. Maybe barely in earshot of the lodge. With an easy trail to follow from the lodge to his improvised jail. Blind, near-helpless, and hopefully more and more scared with each passing minute. At least for an hour or so. Unless his friends showed up before he freed himself.

Note we left his legs free so he could kick at animals. Though his bum ankle had to make it rough just to stand for a lengthy time, let alone hop around kicking at things.

I had some idea of what I was doing to him because I'd experienced a severe disabling of one ankle in the woods myself, years before. Only then I had no buddies I expected to show up any moment. Heck, I'd had no one-- even enemies-- who knew where the heck I was. So I'd been forced to be my own rescue squad in that instance. At least up to a point. Just like Garrett might, in a worst case scenario.

Only Garrett had the advantage that the mystery house was well within crawling distance. So he could go there, break a window, and hole up there for a while to be protected from the elements and heal up. The place surely had water. So he could survive for weeks at least there, with no other aid whatsoever.

Upon leaving Garrett we first went into fast retreat mode again, once more leaving a fairly unrestrained trail behind us for maybe a few hundred yards. Just in case we were in more need of speed than we realized. We also made this track in a misleading direction for any pursuers.

We now had to put as much distance between us and the gang as possible. And begin zig-zagging to avoid the gang figuring out which direction was most vital to us, and possibly leap-frogging us on that vector to set up an ambush.

Up to that moment I'd tried my best to act like Garrett's blow had not fazed me. But even if I'd managed to disappoint Garrett, I could not fool Dana.

I did my best not to slow us down. But a fast hike over uneven ground is taxing even for non-injured folks, and Garrett had got in a surprisingly good lick on me.

We'd also, I realized, wasted valuable stamina on our faster-than-necessary hike in. Stamina I personally was in need of now.

Every deep breath I took brought on a stabbing pain right where it seemed my heart resided in my chest. I was hoping Garrett had only injured the muscles of my chest wall and not my ribs or heart inside, but it could be difficult at times to discern the difference between all these.

I was soon forced to keep my left hand pressed up to my left side for what tiny bit of relief it would give me, as we raced out of the area. Not being able to move an arm during a strenuous walk hurts efficiency and accelerates fatigue all on its own, though.

I think I managed to keep mute regarding the pain for maybe twenty minutes after beginning our frequent changes in course to confuse the gang, but after that I couldn't stop myself from emitting short grunts with almost every breath and step I took.

But we detected no pursuit along the way, or during our next brief stop.

After that we continued on in a much more normal fashion. Hopefully leaving a much more difficult to follow track behind.

I kept us changing directions on occasion, to further confuse any following. Of course such detours took us off the direct path back to Dana's jeep. Making the hike out considerably longer in distance than the hike in.

I'd given up on my lodge investigation. At least for this trip. Escape mode now had top priority.

I was concerned with the possibility of getting into a gunfight out here with way too uncertain odds and two girls as possible casualties or worse.

Even that early into our flight I had the ominous feeling my injury was going to make me a drag on our escape. And being unsure how many might come after us, and what weapons and skills they might possess, I was unwilling to simply try to straight outrun them marathon-wise cross-country. For the more there was of them, the better the chance at least a few would be much faster than two women and an injured man, and be able to catch us or at least pin us down until the rest arrived to finish the job.

Especially if we stayed on a straight-line course they could easily extrapolate from to get ahead of us.

No, a flat out run straight to the jeep over this distance seemed extremely risky under the circumstances.

I hoped I was overestimating the tenacity of Garrett's friends. But I'd been dogged by pursuit in the mountains before. In one of the most memorable instances they hadn't stopped coming after me until a good number of them were either dead or badly injured.

I was sure underestimating the risk here was far more dangerous than overestimating it.

Kathy's Texan father had made sure she knew the basics of firearms, so it took little to get her up to speed on using the AR-15 or my .38. And of course Dana was a girl from my own hometown. She was at least as familiar with guns as Kathy. So we were maybe better prepared than our enemies might expect after getting our description from Garrett.

I was however uncertain about how best to deploy the weaponry among us.

I figured I was the most proficient due to somewhat regular target practice. And of course having extra strength to keep steady a powerful weapon during use. But I liked the idea of both girls being armed, even if I had to go without.

However...if I'd be the most productive in a shoot out, I might actually increase the girls' chances of being harmed if I didn't carry a weapon myself.

Sheesh!

Looking at it from another angle, the .38 was at the same time the shortest distance weapon and the hardest to reliably aim. While the AR-15 was much better in both respects.

But again there'd be the productivity issue.

Well, the .38 was basically a short range last resort weapon. So I let that form the base criteria. The .38 would go to the women. I'd take the AR-15.

But which girl? I talked it over with them both as we continued our trek, trying to get a feel for which of them would likely be the best bet for effective 38 use in a pinch.

It was during this discussion Dana revealed she was already packing heat. A pocket-sized semi-automatic .380 caliber! Stainless steel like my 38! In her fanny pack! Ha, ha.

Dana hadn't drawn it at the lodge because she was hoping we could get by without it.

In hindsight her self-control looked pretty shrewd. For if she'd pulled it, I'd have had to pull mine too, and both of us would have instantly been in a firefight against Smiley and his AR-15-- with all the racket helping alert Smiley's buddies to head back pronto!

Not to mention the possibility our little trio could have suffered injuries or worse just from the gunfight itself. Smiley would surely have had the advantage of better accuracy over us-- not to mention cover-penetrating power-- with his long gun.

So we adjusted our discussion to include the new weapon. And ended up with Kathy carrying Dana's semi-automatic in a shorts pocket, mostly because it kicked less than my 38 Special. And besides being bigger and stronger than Kathy, Dana was more experienced at gun play. And we had more ammo for the 38 than the 380, too.

Plus, I still had the derringer. Being as how it was such a miserable little piece, and likely as dangerous to its wielder as to any attacker, I was glad I no longer had to consider arming Kathy with it!

The derringer's effective range was likely pitiful. So it was best used by poking it right into somebody's belly before firing, or at least not being more than an arm's length away from them. Heck: that derringer might even blow up in my hand if I pulled the trigger. I did what I could to clean the barrels of their accumulated years of debris during a brief rest stop, and stashed it in the daypack's small pocket as a last, desperate resort play.

Oh yeah. The AR-15 turned out to be semi-auto only. Plain street civilian model. But still much more of a weapon than the .38.

I'd have set it on semi-auto even if it had been full auto. Because otherwise firing it could burn through your entire magazine in just a few seconds(!)

It was closing in on 3 PM when we realized Garrett's buddies were indeed coming after us.

Either they'd rescued Garrett almost immediately after we'd left him, or they had a decent tracker with them. Damn it!

Fortunately, if they wanted the girls they couldn't afford to shoot them. I of course was a different story.

I used the AR-15's handy scope to check out Garrett's gang.

I counted four. Garrett wasn't with them.

But assuming someone of their group had either stayed with Garrett or took him somewhere, that meant the original group total had to number at least six (including Garrett himself).

And there could definitely be more.

I was sure they'd try flanking us if they had the manpower. And it was unlikely such an action would be undertaken by one guy alone.

So that could mean at least a couple more guys out there I hadn't seen yet. Maybe.

Yeah, this speculation didn't go over well with Dana and Kathy. We were still a long ways from the jeep.

Damn it! I hated to do it, but I was going to have to try playing sniper.

I mainly hoped to scare them. Maybe make them decide we weren't worth the risk of a chase.

I fired my first shots then. At a normal recon stop we'd made to re-appraise our situation-- and thereby discovered the change in our plight.

We all hunkered down and I drew my first bead. I had to assure the women I was only trying to scare the men off.

I had a limited supply of ammo for the AR-15. I also knew my first several shots with it likely wouldn't hit squat-- or else I'd hit what I didn't want to. I don't think even the best shots in the world expect to pick up a stranger's weapon and start knocking flies off a fence post immediately.

The distance looked to be something over 300 yards. Well within the AR-15's range, I was sure.

I just wanted to try scaring them away with my first shots. Yeah, I guess that was dumb in this situation. But killing or maiming just isn't something to be taken lightly. And this was NATO issue rounds for the Cold War against the Soviet Union. Actual military ammo and weapon (even if the full-auto function was disabled). Such rounds were designed to kill or cripple.

I was also able to check out the gang's armament through the scope. Or at least their long guns.

It appeared they had one more AR-15 or something similar. Another had something more like a regular hunting rifle. And two had shotguns. It appeared at least a couple had handguns as well. Hmm. Quite a prickly little pack there. Pretty much equipped for everything from long range to close-in. And that was not including possibly at least one more member out there somewhere-- assuming at minimum one had stayed with Garrett for a bit before joining back up later. Yeow!

I guessed I needed two shots for practice. But they'd both have to be purposely wide, as I didn't want to accidentally kill one of the pack. Not yet.

How best to scare them without getting too close though? I didn't have a lot of time to think about it.

Man! I hated having no idea how the AR-15 was set up targeting-wise!

I figured it best to avoid time-consuming tinkering with the various adjustments and just try to get accustomed to how Garrett already had it configured.

Ergo, I decided to not even shoot anywhere near the pack. Instead, I picked out a nice innocent but distinctive and wide tree roughly the same distance away as our antagonists, but on a different vector. Then I tried to make sure there wasn't anyone hidden or stumbling around in that target area either. Once I was satisfied, I aimed as carefully as I could and squeezed one off.

I didn't bother to look at the enemy after firing. For it was more useful to see and compare the results of what happened with what I expected to happen where I was aiming. I witnessed the impact through the scope. Tried to refine my aim to better match the set up. And fired again. I got closer that time. I tried to burn what I'd learned into my memory for next time, repeating to myself a couple short phrases containing the gist.

Then and only then did I turn the scope back on the pack following us.

They'd all taken cover of course. For they had to be positive I was firing their way.

They seemed to have little training. So their use of cover was sloppy and patchwork in nature.

A real sniper in my place at that moment could have blown off one foot, for instance. Plus the top of the head of another guy as he nervously popped up to look around. And yet another had enough of his gun uncovered that I might even try shooting it to pieces if I was confident enough with the AR-15.

I urged the girls to stay low as we crept away from that location. Hopefully unseen by our unwanted followers.

I sure was glad I was right-handed so that the AR-15's stock rested on my right side rather than my injured left during firing. The gun also didn't have as much recoil as my old 12 gauge pump.

Being forced to expend more effort into covering our trail or leaving none at all-- plus do that zigzagging to try to lose them or at least increase their uncertainty as to our preferred direction-- slowed our progress substantially, compared to the inbound journey.

Luckily my scare tactics helped slow down our pursuit as well.

Unfortunately they still stuck to us like glue despite all that. Maybe even gaining on us a bit. Perhaps mostly because my own injury was hampering me way more than I'd expected, both physically and mentally.

Garrett had done a real number on me. I wished now I'd taken more retribution on him when I'd had the chance. A bloody nose and busted ankle definitely wasn't enough. Not when that inviting lodge was so close by.

The next two sniper rounds I fired-- just one per recon stop-- I placed much closer to the thugs, being as I was more confident of where the bullets would end up.

Those occasional pot shots helped widen our lead. At least temporarily.

I continued to try refining my aim of the unfamiliar weapon with every new shot.

I couldn't do a third after that. It was getting too dark.

We tried our best to locate a decent spot which might conceal us, protect us from the elements, and help with a forced stand too, if necessary.

Keep in mind we hadn't figured on an overnight stay. So we had none of the usual camping comforts of sleeping bags, nifty consumer-style enclosed tents, etc., etc.

Of course I always tried to pack at least lightly for worst-case scenarios.

Between the contents of my scramble vest and daypack, I was pretty sure we possessed the utter essentials we might require for a forced overnight bivouac.

In terms of food and water though, we were coming up short. All told, I'd started off carrying bare survival rations of water for three people for one day (my canteen was empty already); and a couple lean days in food terms (by this point we'd consumed about a third of my food store). Having figured on three healthy and uninjured adults undertaking moderate to heavy exertions over that period.

I did have fire-starting means, but we didn't dare make a camp fire under the existing circumstances.

Yes. We had precious few comforts. And the nights could get cool this time of year. Especially up here in the mountains.

But we found a reasonably level spot sheltered from the wind and possible precipitation, and set up my open-ended tube tent hanging from a cord run between two trees, a closed side towards the prevailing breeze here. This gave us a plastic floor and two plastic walls in an A-frame arrangement. We had more plastic sheeting to use for blankets. Gathered heaps of ground leaves served to soften the ground beneath the tent floor, as well as insulate it thermal-wise. A four foot long bundle of heavily leafed, slender and flexible tree branches rolled up in a plastic sheet-- with my spare clothing from the pack (two shirts and a pair of jeans) wrapping the outside of the sheet itself for more comfort-- served for pillows.

I chose a location on high ground to increase the chance we'd see and hear anyone coming before they detected us. We could see almost 180 degrees encompassing our reverse course, out to a distance of maybe 30 or 40 yards before the tree tops and terrain began interfering too much with visibility.

Of course, that was the visibility in daylight. There'd be nearer to zero after dark.

So I ran some lengths of tough nylon string a few inches off the ground between some trees near the edge of our visible range, tying them off with as little slack in their lengths as possible. Basically I arranged a pattern of trip strings there. Meant to cause falls in the dark, or at least sufficient annoyance to cause some verbal cursing if a gang member hit them. Thereby helping to alert us to their presence.

If they noted the strings without making a racket, they'd begin more carefully watching the ground ahead of them. So beginning roughly 5-10 yards in from the trip strings I'd deployed a few traps to try a little harder to make them announce their presence.

I used the coloring from my US military camouflage stick to darken the normally white string a bit.

I'd chosen some slender tree branches suitable to act as painful whips if released from sufficient tension, all situated at roughly throat to face height. Most had a decent smacking range covering at least a couple feet at their tips. I carefully loaded them tension-wise in some promising locations, restraining them via some unnatural arrangements of their neighboring branches which might be easily dislodged by passersby, and using strategically placed string to help the contraptions remain in place pending sufficient disturbance.

Yeah, it wasn't much. But surely it'd inspire any interlopers to make a racket!

Our little trio lay together en mass underneath the same plastic sheet, making sure to leave ample paths for excess humidity to escape. This allowed us to share body heat and stay pretty comfortable even at a fairly nippy outdoor temperature, and without the need to don any of my spare clothing from the daypack.

We stayed fully clothed due to the possibility we might have to evacuate with little warning (under better conditions it's advisable to at least remove your shoes). And tried to arrange all our various equipment and supplies to that end, too.

It was either at this camp site or a little before that Kathy and I had finally gotten the chance to learn how in the hell Dana had garnered all the intelligence on Garrett that she had exhibited during our encounter at the mystery lodge.

We'd quizzed Dana on the topic. And Dana had bedazzled me once again.

"I noticed his stained teeth and nervously twitching fingers on one hand, and his habit of reaching to his pocket or his mouth but then stopping short. So I figured he had to be a smoker, and been out of cigarettes for a while already," Dana told us.

"But what about him not being alone? How'd you get that?"

"Jerry, not many folks are brave enough-- or stupid enough-- to be this far out in the sticks by themselves," Dana said. Reminding me of my own adventure years before in mountains not too far from these that I'd performed alone-- and almost paid for it with my life. And no, Dana was unaware of that particular misadventure of mine. She continued.

"Yes, I know that quite a few hunters will work alone in spots like these. But he wasn't carrying a hunting rifle. Or other typical hunting gear. He also seemed excited by something-- like the prospect of having a prize to present to a group of his peers, maybe. And gain some group status or points. Sooner rather than later. He didn't show any signs of expecting to wait long for his reward."

Dana's intellect was one of the things I loved about her. And she seemed sharper than ever.

Figuring the fall of night combined with our lead over the others at least gave us a few free hours-- plus my little surprises below should help alert us too-- we posted no watch then, simply all of us sleeping for that span.

Plus, I knew from experience what the men in the gang were likely thinking.

But this 'one guy' had been in situations like this before. And his little day pack was likely better equipped than the gang expected.

I had no problem awaking to start my rest-of-the-night watch, due to the pain of my injury. The nature of the thing forced me to stay on my back-- all other positions simply hurt too much. Any movement at all brought on significantly more suffering. Every single breath I took pained me. So I woke often. When I awoke and noted it a good time to start my watch, I did.

I think I got an hour or two of sleep there. Then watched over the girls the rest of the night.

Dana was furious with me the next morning for not waking her for a shift. But hey, I explained to her: I couldn't sleep anyway because of my pain. So at least she and Kathy would be somewhat rested for the new day.

Plus, being a man my body could endure a bit more sleep-deprivation than theirs.

As my chest pains from breathing had worsened during the night, I was getting concerned about internal injuries. However, as I only seemed to experience the degree of light-headedness you'd expect with sleep deprivation and constant pain, and my skin color seemed OK when checked, I didn't think I was bleeding internally. Or at least not enough to endanger my life just yet. And I wasn't coughing or spitting up blood. So it seemed there was no punctured lung.

But all indications were that I had some sort of serious injury, never-the-less.

Yeah, I hated the idea of trying to lead the girls out plus play part-time sniper on practically no sleep like this, but what choice did I have?

Fortunately we weren't bothered that night. But the gang did seem to have again diminished our lead by the next morning. Despite us breaking camp pretty much as dawn broke. Right about the moment the gang was probably enjoying breakfast.

Us, we ate some trail mix as we walked. Or the girls anyway. Our appetites the previous day had been relatively light due to the threat. But after our sleep we'd all awoken ravenous.

I cautioned the girls about the food stores, but let them eat roughly half of what we had left. I pretended to eat but didn't. I knew I could go for a while without it. And I wasn't sure how much longer we might be out here.

I was afraid my growling stomach might divulge my subterfuge to Dana, but it didn't. Maybe because the womens' stomachs were growling too, due to the small portions of food available.

We'd found water all right along the way, and I'd treated it before we drank, with the supplies from my stores. Unfortunately we had no way to carry more than one canteen's worth with us. So I had us all drink our fill when we had the chance near the source.

All that water also helped quell our hunger pangs for a bit.

We still hadn't sighted the second group of pursuers-- if there was one.

Maybe they were trying to get ahead of us, I thought.

And if they'd not slept the night before they could be ready to ambush us today!

Of course with our frequently and randomly changing directions we'd sure made it hard for them to cut us off that way.

Still, I took to peering ahead of and all around us as well as behind with the scope. I spent maybe six rounds that day solely on suspicious looking spots ahead of us in an attempt to flush out or scare off any possible ambushers. I also spent six rounds on harassing the guys chasing us.

Keep in mind that since the gang members almost never had a visible fix on me when I was shooting, they always had to assume I was shooting directly at them. No matter where they might have been at the time.

We'd left in place my little string surprises at our overnight camp site. They weren't nearly as hard to see in daylight of course. So I had little hope of them accomplishing anything then. But apparently at least one of the gang got tripped up or unexpectedly smacked across the face when they came through there. For we heard several shots suddenly fired all at once that morning, when it didn't seem they had us in their sights. We'd already broken camp and began the new day's hike maybe an hour before the commotion. After a minute or two I realized the shots must have been an angry reaction to my string traps.

Hopefully that encounter would make them slow up some on their pursuit, if nothing else. After all, they couldn't know what other dastardly things I might have up my sleeve.

And yes, we'd gotten way off course here. Making the hike back to the jeep many times longer than the straightest shot would have required.

But I'd been right not to underestimate our pursuit. Without all our delaying tactics and changes in direction they'd have surrounded and captured us for sure the evening before. There was no way we could have made the jeep. Not all of us.

I was being sure to keep the girls apprised of every aspect of the situation and my efforts to stymie our pursuit. Partly so to run them by the girls to see if they spotted any possible flaws and might suggest better alternatives. Partly too to make sure I wasn't getting too fatigued to think straight.

And lastly so that if for some reason they had to go on without me they'd have some idea of how to make it to the jeep on their own.

Yeah, I was starting to think I might have to try holding off the gang myself as long as I could while Dana and Kathy attempted a straight shot to the jeep the rest of the way.

Unfortunately, I could see no way to extricate myself afterwards from such a stand. Especially as by its end I'd probably be completely out of ammo. And my ability to run was fast draining away, too.

Man! Shadowfast (my old supercar of years past) would sure have been handy in this situation, I thought. Or even just my 12 gauge pump and the big ammo box from Shadow's store. Yeah. 50 slugs and 50 rounds of buckshot would make for a decent stand. Heck: maybe even wipe out the whole gang, I thought with a bit of malevolence.

But I had none of that gear now.

Yes, I was getting very worried about our situation here, to be contemplating a stand. Especially with such meager resources, and so out-manned.

By this point the gang had gotten much better at staying under cover. Not just when I was shooting their way, but at all times. So it was getting tough indeed to spot them in my regular recon sessions now. But moving stealthily also means moving relatively slowly. So even with my injuries and the girls' feminine stamina, we seemed to be maintaining our lead fairly well for much of this day.

It didn't help that my eyes were now failing from sleep deprivation. My vision was getting much blurrier in general. I was having trouble focusing on distant objects, even with the help of the scope.

Our foes refrained from shooting back at us much. Up to that point they shot our way just maybe three times. Every time they seemed to be aiming at me.

That was the bright side of them being after the girls: they might not shoot them. At least not until after they'd already had them in their custody for a while...Grrr!

I thought it kind of amazing that they'd continued to come after us like that even with me shooting at them. I mean, sure I'd busted up Garrett's ankle and left him in a somewhat embarrassing situation back there. But I could have done a lot worse. And they surely had to recognize I'd merely tried my best to make sure he couldn't join in our pursuit, without permanently harming him, or leaving him in much more dire circumstances.

Man! Those guys must really hold a grudge, I thought. Or maybe they were just stupid. Or crazy.

They surely weren't doing all this just to get at Dana and Kathy! That would make them certifiably sex-crazed. And none of these guys had even seen them up close! Garrett might have described them. But damn if I personally would want to risk getting shot trying to make two female strangers into unwilling sexual playthings-- even if they were as stunning as these two.

In my sleep-deprived state I was beginning to get much more pragmatic and consider killing the pack.

It was a good thing for them they'd gotten better at hiding since the pursuit began. For it was getting awful tempting to pop one of them if I could get them into my sights...

We were taking another recon/sniper break when something different happened.

We all barely heard something nearby, but didn't recognize the sound. When a second sound alerted us we saw the cause: an arrow. Likely from a compound bow. Embedded not far at all from us. From a direction other than behind us.

The flanking part of the gang had finally shown themselves.

Damn it!

I spaced three rounds into the general direction of the possible shooter before I thought. Mainly to make them duck for cover or hopefully retreat.

Damn it-- I was getting loopy from lack of sleep! Wasting ammo! Plus I had to remember we might accidentally encounter legitimate hunters of some kind out here! Ouch! I sure hoped I hadn't shot an innocent person!

I had no idea what if any hunting season might be open now. But official seasons didn't matter that much anyway to some of the folks living in or near these mountainous woods. Heck, some probably hunted to eat on a regular basis!

I couldn't do much to check the status of the bow owner though-- we were simply at too much risk ourselves at the moment.

So we lit out in the direction opposite to the perceived source of the arrows, and at right angles from the path followed since our last course change. Hoping to get back on track for the jeep later.

Either some of the gang knew these woods pretty well, or they had a compass and maps like me. Which was a shame. For otherwise we might could have gotten the bastards lost out here, and escaped in that manner.

We were now in a fast run, also trying to stay low to avoid possible sniping from both parties.

I hoped to hell the second group had nothing better than a bow!

A compound bow could kill you just as dead as a firearm. However, it was harder to wield effectively than a gun, plus had to have a much shorter range.

A bow was a lot quieter than a gun, though. So it could have been the shooter was hoping to hit one or two of us before we even realized what was happening.

The bow user had apparently gotten overly excited and jumped the gun. If he'd just waited another minute or two we wouldn't have been moving around nearly as much, and his risk of missing would have been much lower.

Our new path ran us up and down uneven ground until finally we hit a wall. A wall of natural terrain.

And though we couldn't see them, we could hear them coming. They were much closer than I'd expected.

All this seemed to confirm my suspicion the gang had split early on, with one bunch (or man) trying to flank or even get ahead of us. But by God we'd sure given them a tough time of it!

But now there were indications the second team had more members than I'd thought.

Or else some of those previously behind us had joined the flankers some hours back.

Maybe they hadn't been hiding from my gun scope as well as I guessed. There'd just been fewer of them back there to see. Agh!

And now they were successfully herding us!

Crap! This was a classic hunting ploy used on animals! What the hell was wrong with me!? Why hadn't I realized this?

Damn it! The pain and exhaustion were screwing me up bad!

We had no choice. We had to climb for it.

I sent Dana to lead the way with Kathy following, while I stayed behind to try scaring the gang a little. I located a decent arrangement of boulders to steady my aim, and began trying to figure out where best to shoot based on the racket coming from the converging troops.

I acquired a couple different vectors, and squeezed off one round along each. The second shot consumed the last of the AR-15 ammo we'd gotten from Garrett.

Those shots drastically reduced the noise factor from our nearing pursuit. And hopefully cut down their approach speed too.

I turned and began scrambling up the rock face myself, after throwing the rifle onto my back via the sling. The presence of my backpack allowed me to park the rifle a little more securely than what might have been in the pack's absence. I left my walking stick behind, figuring I could easily acquire another later.

Yeah, the AR-15 was just dead weight with no ammo. But I wasn't ready to discard it just yet. Despite the considerable extra weight and bulk it represented. For one thing, I thought the gang might too easily find and recover it if I discarded it here. And it just wouldn't do to inform them the gun was now useless to us, due to lack of ammo.

Besides her anger at me over not sharing sentry duties the night before, Dana had also given me a mean look when I refused to let her carry the daypack that morning.

I'd been adamant on the matter. Told her I wanted her and Kathy as unencumbered as possible in case they had to make a mad dash for escape. Although I'd made no specific mention of it, I also wanted them capable of exploiting the widest possible options in getting away from the gang-- which included unexpected things like this climb.

Hence, I felt vindicated in my precautions when the wall loomed ahead of us.

Luckily it was a pretty easy climb, with plenty of hand and footholds-- at least up the first thirty feet or so. That allowed me to catch up to Kathy within only a couple minutes.

The wild facets of the wall and the foliage at its base also shielded us from being easily shot at from below.

Not far beyond the first thirty feet the terrain forced a sideways incline climb upon us. In my haste to catch up I didn't realize this and accidentally got between Dana and Kathy, thereby putting Kathy at the tail-end of our little safari.

Like I said, I did not realize the course had suddenly swung sideways rather than straight up, until I got there.

But so long as we were still moving we were hopefully OK.

The sideways incline lasted considerably longer than I expected, taking us in a bit of a spiraling motion around the rocky wall. We were still moving up the face. Just not nearly as fast as I'd hoped we would, with the angle and all.

Then Dana hit a gap. A great gaping crack in the wall, which presented the first substantial obstacle on our climb so far.

She finally managed to get across it-- but it required quite a stretch for her.

Our position strung out around the wall allowed Dana to subtly communicate to me her worry that Kathy might not be able to make it across the gap, due to her being smaller than either of us. Her reach simply wouldn't make it. Dana had barely managed it herself.

Plus, Kathy was showing signs of being intimidated by the climb already. The easy part of the climb. That was not good.

So there we were, Dana and I basically stopped dead in our tracks on either side of the aforementioned gap. I was pondering how best to help Kathy make it across the void. Kathy was catching up to me now that I'd stopped moving. I reached out my right hand to help and encourage her as she approached.

Then Dana yelled out a warning to us.

"Jerry! Kathy! Look out!"

Dana's vantage point-- a little higher in altitude than mine or Kathy's-- afforded her a view I couldn't see.

One of Garrett's gang was almost upon Kathy, hidden from me and her by an outcropping we'd passed only moments before-- and reaching around it now to grab for Kathy's nearest wrist.

The bastard's sudden appearance and reaching for her caused Kathy to lose her grip on that side just before she'd reached my hand-- which left her for a split second precariously perched on the rock face with no hand holds at all. And in that instant her toeholds also slipped, or else the unexpected proximity of a gang member caused her to seek a different foothold at the worst possible moment.

Kathy probably had nothing like me and Dana's climbing experience either-- being from a flat-as-a-pancake part of Texas. And too young to have collected much experience in general.

Whatever the reason, Kathy abruptly began sliding down the mountain-side.

I immediately compromised my own grip by shifting position so I could lunge for Kathy's left forearm. I wasn't too concerned about the possibility of sliding down the face, as I'd performed such maneuvers many times in the past and caught myself. The real problem arose where you could no longer reach anything but empty air, or the wall just was too smooth or slippery to get a grip on. I managed to catch Kathy's wrist, but knew I no longer had the time or sufficient anchoring to help her across the gap in any sort of contemplative fashion.

So I tried to leverage her fall and my last minute lunge into swinging her across the gap, mustering all the strength I could for one immense effort, and pivoting on one handhold and one toehold like a human hinge to do it.

I caught Kathy's arm as she fell. Suddenly my own precarious toeholds and one-handed finger holds went from supporting just my own weight to mine and Kathy's combined, plus whatever her brief plunge of maybe a foot or so added momentum-wise.

And I had to let go one of those three remaining points of attachment to swing her over.

My rock-clinging digits suddenly trembled under the strain, as I pushed off with my right foot and twisted my whole body around to send Kathy swinging behind me and over towards Dana-- while still straining to keep Kathy as near the rock face as possible in case I dropped her, so she'd still have a chance to catch hold of something.

"Grab her!" was all I could get out verbally under the terrific effort, praying to God both girls would know I meant for each to grab the other if possible.

I felt something give in my right shoulder. It hurt, but not nearly as badly as my chest during the heave.

That's when my daypack and the AR-15 surprised me, by preventing me from smacking full on against the rock wall backwards as I'd expected, and leaving dangling the outstretched foot I'd hoped to re-attach to the mountain again ASAP.

The pack's presence also caused me to hit earlier than expected, knocking an exhalation of air out of me I was still using for the swing at the time. Ooof! I sure didn't like that!

Kathy caught hold of both Dana's outstretched hand and a piece of the mountain and she was successfully passed-- despite she too basically ending the swing with her back against the wall-- even as I frantically sought a new hold with my unsupported right foot, as my backpack kept me sticking further out from the wall than I wanted.

Thank goodness for Kathy's small size and weight!

My right shoulder seemed somehow out of kilter after that, but it still worked. I figured maybe I'd pulled a muscle or something.

Plus, the new discomfort of movement in my shoulder came nowhere near the excruciating level of pain emanating from my rib-cage.

It being right over my heart, I was constantly reminded of its similarity to a heart attack. Which didn't make me feel any better.

As I often did with such things in those days, I calmed myself with the knowledge that death was welcome any time he wanted to show up. Heart attack? I wish!

Yeah, this may sound morbid. But I truly looked forward to the rest. And I sure as hell wasn't happy being alive. Hadn't been for years. But perhaps most importantly, I also knew the truth of all this would likely help me stay calmer, and thereby lessen the risk (or severity) of any true attack. Thereby helping me remain useful to the girls for at least another few minutes in a worst case scenario.

The huge spike in pain brought tears to my eyes though, and I had to blink them back. I also maybe whimpered a bit involuntarily. But I don't think anyone else heard it.

The one thing which made it all better for me was the fact I was now between the girls and the gang again.

Having been foiled in his grab for Kathy, the instigator of our desperate play was now gingerly making his way around the outcropping, watching to make sure none of us had him in a gun sight.

He probably thought I was too busy with my own problems in that moment to do much about his approach. As I may have resembled a turtle flailing on his back against the rock wall.

But I'd been climbing stuff like this on occasion since at least age eight, bare-handed. And climbed with Steve and others many times between the ages of sixteen and twenty-two or so. After that my climbing had mostly been in trees, relating to my Moonshadow airship nesting sites. But that too had added to my overall expertise and confidence in such things.

Having finally gotten my errant foot on the wall again, I pushed off once more and swung back around in a reverse of the hinge pivot maneuver (it was much easier without Kathy hanging from my arm), grabbed a small handful of grit off the rocky ledge my outbound hand met, and immediately cast it into the villain's eyes, all in virtually one motion. He cursed, trying furiously to blink it away, his hands for the moment occupied maintaining his position on the mountain.

I seized that opportunity to rapidly sidle up closer to him and knock his left arm loose from its hold.

That's when I came to the alarming realization my right shoulder or arm was suddenly weaker than it should have been. Hell, maybe I was having a heart attack!

If so, then I'd best dispatch this bastard fast-- before I died and fell off the mountain myself. If only I could take this one guy with me, Dana and Kathy might yet get away...

The gangster still hadn't cleared his vision-- plus had to be still adjusting to my reverse pivot maneuver-- and so was taken somewhat by surprise by my sudden close proximity attack. He threw his hand back onto the rock face by instinct, even as I began kicking the tar out of his mid-section with my hiking boot-enclosed foot.

After the first kick or two I realized anchoring my kicks as solidly as I could off the rock wall I was against in that moment would add to their power-- so I did.

Plus, I think maybe my adrenalin kicked in a little.

I'm not sure exactly how many kicks it took, but somewhere around that point I successfully knocked him loose of the wall, and sent him sliding down, madly scrambling to regain his grip, even as his body frantically twisted around in an effort to offset the spin I'd given him too.

But falling down a cliff-face while half-blind is a terrifying experience, which proved too much for him, and soon he'd combination bounced and fell away from the mountain in such a way that he couldn't recover.

No, I couldn't see his final impact. But I did see his first couple major out-of-control bounces down the rock face. And they sure looked painful from my location.

Hopefully he at least broke a leg or something on the way down. And so would slow down his comrades with his need for first aid and evacuation.

I was beginning to wonder though if this bunch would actually tend to a fallen comrade-- or just abandon them.

I guess our height at that moment from the ground had been maybe 80 or 90 feet or so-- but that's a pure guess, as I simply couldn't see the foot of the wall from my position. I remember thinking he had a good chance at surviving with just a broken limb or two, unless he had really bad luck and splattered his skull on a rock like an egg shell.

Apparently the only heart attack I suffered there was imaginary.

My right shoulder still didn't feel up to snuff. It seemed to work OK, but was unusually tender and seemingly badly weakened after swinging Kathy across the gap. I couldn't remember experiencing anything quite like this before.

We all made it to the top of the wall and continued our trek across country.

I described my weakened and tender shoulder to Dana. We stopped briefly so she could examine my shoulder with my shirt off it.

"I think I know what it is, Jere'", Dana said quietly.

"Yeah? What?"

"Just sort of a misalignment is all. No biggie. I can fix you up in a jiffy."

"Like right now you mean?"

"Sure! No better time! Want me to show you how to do it?"

"I guess so--"

"All we have to do is--" Dana spoke calmly as she moved around in front of me, placing one open hand against my right chest while using her other to firmly grasp the knob of my right shoulder.

"--this!" Dana fiercely pulled on my shoulder at the same time she pushed in on my chest. She was probably using all her might.

I screamed in agony. Loud enough to surely be heard a quarter mile away by anyone paying attention. Yeah. Call me a wimp if you want. But let's also see you try it sometime! Completely by surprise!

That was the first time anyone ever reset a dislocated shoulder for me.

If it'd been a guy friend rather than Dana who reset it without warning me first like that, I'd have been sorely tempted to slug them for the favor immediately afterwards. Maybe several times! Yeah! Take that, you bastard! And that too!

My shoulder would remain sore and tender for days to come. But at least it was closer to working like it should again.

I'd dislocated it swinging Kathy over.

The agony of the reset made my chest pain seem not nearly so bad for a little while after that. But gradually my chest injury took its rightful place again to occupy a major chunk of my consciousness. It hurt when I moved. It hurt when I breathed. Hurt like hell.

Over the next hour or so of hiking I gradually progressed from suffering in silence (as was my normal habit) to small grunts, then moans, and finally wholesale gasping, as my exhaustion from lack of sleep, the fatigue from continuous exertion, and stress of our situation combined with the unrelenting pain to grow ever more insufferable.

Dana finally declared "We'll stop here."

"No! We can't stop--" I protested.

"Jerry, you've got to rest--"

"Hey! Don't mind the racket! Don't you know I'm getting some relief by doing that? That's all," I tried to say while smiling but just managed a death's head grimace I believe.

Much later Dana would tell me I'd been white as a sheet too from the pain, around that time.

I'd already taken the opportunity to plunk down onto the ground, despite my words-- as I craved whatever break I could get.

My eyes were even welling up on a regular basis now from the combination of pain and fatigue, and I didn't like that at all.

If I could sit still, in a certain position, and just breathe shallow breaths, the pain was tolerable. Of course it takes a while to cool down from a fast hike to get to shallow breathing again.

The biggest true problem was my pain was distracting me from my navigational and anti-pursuit responsibilities.

I'd gotten these girls into this mess, and I had to get them out.

The part of me that often seems to remain aloof even during my worst moments observed that all this trouble smacked of the kind of events usually reserved for my dates, back years before. Yeah. Jerry's apocalyptic dating service! Come one, come all! Give a kiss to Jerry and lose your family heirlooms! Get kidnapped! See three tornados dropping down all around you! Not one! Not two! But three!

Or get killed in an explosion. That was what happened to Bridget. I'd been miles away at the time. But it was probably my fault. Because I was about to ask her to marry me.

I shook my head, and tried to look on the bright side. This was no date. I wasn't romantically involved with either woman here. So hopefully they would both live through this. At least if I did my part.

I was beginning to worry that I might pass out on them at some point. I ordered myself to hold it together. Told myself I had the strength of will to make it past this. And get the girls back to civilization.

As Dana had called for a rest stop anyway I decided to make use of it and check the maps again. If I could clear my damn head of its haze.

It was just moments later I figured out what our pursuers were up to. If we didn't change course-- and soon-- we'd be trapped. Our backs against a bad drop off. This time either we'd have to surrender or try climbing down a cliff-side only to maybe get picked off from above by gunfire.

Or rocks. Rocks would work just fine. Clunk us in the head or face a few times and we'd be goners for sure. Just like that last gang member I'd sent bouncing into the void.

Well, me. I'd be gone. Surely the guys wouldn't knock Dana or Kathy off. So long as they climbed back up like good girls...Grrr.

"We have to get around these guys," I told the women.

"But we're outrunning them just fine," Dana replied.

"Yeah. That's what they want us to think. They're actually herding us towards a cliff where we'll be stuck."

Dana seemed skeptical, so I showed her the map and compass. I'd taken to trying to give both the girls a crash course in map and compass use along the way, in case they had to go on without me. Dana of course had some skills with map and compass navigation due to being a pilot. But with the ever narrowing tunnel vision and thinking I was beginning to experience, I kept forgetting that.

Once Dana realized I was right we began working on a way to get past our pursuers.

We had to lose them somehow. But they were decent ground trackers.

'Ground trackers'. That gave me an idea. Once we got underway again I began keeping an eye out for a good place to try a certain new trick. Roughly twenty minutes later we came upon it.

"Stop," I ordered our little troop.

"Why? Did they get ahead of us?" One of the girls asked. In my pain and exhaustion-compressed consciousness the two women were beginning to merge into one entity. An entity to be protected at all costs. The phrase 'women and children first' was resonating in my skull.

"No. I think I know a way we can slow them down," I told them.

"How?"

"You see that tree?" I pointed to a substantial trunk roughly 25 yards away. "We're going to climb up it-- carefully, so as not to break any limbs if possible-- and then walk that thick branch about twelve feet up over to the neighboring tree's branch, and then make our way to the other side of the tree to climb down onto that rock outcropping below it."

"What are Earth are you talking about?" Dana asked, as I was somehow able to distinguish her from Kathy for a moment. But around this time I was beginning to get glimpses or flashes of Bridget superimposed over either and both women when I looked their way. My mind and body were failing.

"We have to confuse them. Make them uncertain as to what direction we're taking," I struggled to tell them. To make sense. I was afraid I wasn't.

So we all three very carefully walked out some 20 yards or so, each in our own individual straight line from our original location, than slowly retraced our steps backwards, trying to use the same spots we'd stepped before to get back.

Then I fashioned some crude padded 'booties' or over-shoes from pieces of my plastic sheeting, filled with leaves, and tied to the bottoms of our shoes with string. So we wouldn't leave any sole patterns on anything. Or hopefully any discernible prints at all. I had to keep telling myself what I was doing made sense. But my uncertainty was growing by the minute.

I next tread alone as softly as I could to the foot of the critical tree (since I was the heaviest and had the biggest feet, and any potential prints of the others might not show up well inside mine). Then one at a time I had the girls walk in my exact footsteps to reach the tree too.

Now we had four possible trails in four different directions from the one spot, each hopefully looking like they were made by a solitary person.

And the fourth trail (to the tree) was as difficult to distinguish from normal ground clutter as we could make it.

We now removed the anti-track contraptions from our feet, making sure to redistribute the leaves in a natural looking fashion, and stuffing the plastic and string elements into our pockets and/or daypack.

I was doing my best to leave behind no telltale debris from our efforts.

I wasn't sure of the best way to tackle the tree-climbing portion, so had just arbitrarily selected one based on the logic that I was more likely to cause a branch break than the girls, so they should go first. Kathy, being the smallest, was the optimum first climber. But Dana ended up leading the way.

I also tried to position myself underneath at the crucial mid-point to break each girl's fall if necessary, while striving to disturb the earth there too as little as possible.

It took a while, but they made it across OK. I soon joined them, after first trying to make sure we'd left as little sign behind us of taking the tree route that I could.

For some reason the climbing didn't bother my chest injury as much as expected (except for the breathing of course). But my previously dislocated right shoulder complained some. And I seemed to get dizzy as I made the crossing from one tree to another.

Once we'd returned to the ground again on the far side of the rock outcropping, we undertook a strict regimen of the two girls following exactly in my footsteps behind so as to deepen the misleading indications that we'd split up and went our separate ways, even if and when our pursuers found this new stretch of tracks.

I had to purposely limit the length of my stride to better match the girl's capacities. This required a continuous, conscious effort on my part. But as I was also walking very carefully to minimize ground and foliage disturbance along the way, a slower walk was necessary anyway.

It was pretty annoying for the girls too of course.

To maintain my concentration on the task at hand, plus seek some relief, I pretended I was a kid again, playing in the woods with friends, determined to show them I was the best at leading a group while leaving no trail behind. My current lightheadedness seemed to mesh well with my pretending to be a child again. We continued on in this most inconvenient fashion until we reached a creek, where we changed direction once again and walked in the water for a ways to add further tracking difficulties. But before all that we again treated and drank our fill of water, just in case we might not get another chance later. I personally took no measures to protect my footwear from soaking, and so the girls didn't either. I was nearing the end of my strength, and beginning to neglect basic hiking protocols. In the back of my mind I was thinking that Dana would surely fill in for any really bad mistakes I made, if she deemed it necessary. I tried to pick a spot to leave the water where we could step upon barren rocks as far as possible to escape the stream, and also leave behind nothing but wet tracks to dry up behind us. After that we resumed a more normal walking pattern. Which was a relief for us all.

Trying to thwart trackers can be a strenuous undertaking. And I personally was running out of steam.

To make matters worse, the sky-- which had consisted of a solid white overcast much of the day-- had rapidly darkened over the past hour or so. It looked like rain was coming. Maybe even a storm. My daypack had the basics to handle it. But it sure wouldn't be as comfortable as the previous night. Especially if we couldn't snuggle up under a rock overhang somewhere, and the wind got really bad.

I did have plastic sheeting we could wrap around ourselves if we had to hike in the rain.

After another hour or so of walking I had us head back up to high ground again. Where I began keeping an eye out for a good climbing tree along the crest of the ridge we were now following. When I spotted one I called for a stop and climbed it as high as I figured necessary.

I'd practically become a zombie during that last hour. Lapsing into outright delirium a few times. But the women didn't seem to realize the extent of my plight. They merely helped me up when I stumbled a few times, and nudged me back to our intended course whenever I began going off on an obvious tangent. Somehow though that all seemed to give me a second wind afterwards, and my head cleared again.

We were now hearing thunder in the distance. And the wind was getting up. We still had no rain though. Which I was now ambivalent about. For while we sure didn't need the added misery of the rest of our bodies being as cold and wet out here as our sodden feet already were, enough rain fall could make it impossible for the gang to track us any further without the help of actual sightings, or dropped flotsam or significant foliage breakage in our wake.

If it hadn't been for my exhaustion, I would have welcomed the tree climb as a treat, and nice break from the hike. Because I'd loved to climb ever since I was a kid.

Yes, I didn't like heights in general. But if you were in the right kind of tree, you could feel safe at incredible heights.

And a good stand of trees had saved my ass quite a few times that I could recall. Trees are good friends of mine.

At the climb's top I scanned the terrain in all directions, comparing it mentally to where I figured we were on the map.

I saw no sign of pursuit. But I did see a large clearing not indicated on my map (some USGS maps for regions like this hadn't been updated in decades). I could only see the absence of tree tops in the space; nothing close to ground level.

But I thought I could make out the very top tips of some sort of man-made structures. I couldn't be sure from this angle and distance. But it was tantalizing enough under the circumstances to be worth checking out.

I knew it wasn't a fire tower. Maybe a ranger station? If so, it might have a telephone we could use to call for help.

So we spent the next hour or so making our way to the clearing. During which the wind and rain finally came calling. Lightning too. Scaring the crap out of poor Kathy. Heck, even Dana and I jumped a few times at the thunder claps accompanying the closest lightning strikes.

I had to break out the plastic sheeting. We used the separate sheets like makeshift ponchos the remainder of the way. I could only hope we didn't get struck by lightning along the course.

I'd been struck before-- but been inside my car Shadowfast at the time. Even with the protection of the metal shell, it'd been scary.

The rain caused things to get decidedly colder. Even the girls shivered a bit, being as how we were dressed more for hot dry hiking than cold and wet slogging.

By this point I was shivering so hard my teeth were chattering, and I had to be extra careful walking, lest a sudden shiver spasm cause me to lose my footing on the wet and often slick surfaces we were now traveling. I was absolutely starving, too. Of course I knew the worst of all that stemmed from my exhaustion and the unrelenting pain. Plus, the first couple days without food are the hardest. The hunger pangs lessen a lot after that. I'd learned this from earlier encounters with privation.

When we broke out from the surrounding forest I was surprised to make out in the pouring rain and occasional lightning flash a substantial camp of numerous large buildings and even what appeared to be a fenced off swimming pool.

There were no signs of habitation. Or cars.

Something about the place struck me as awfully familiar.

And no, this wasn't the scene of my mental derangement of years before-- or anywhere near it. That place had been completely razed to the ground then.

This also wasn't the spot of my face off with my ROTC instructor Sergeant Whittaker. That rocky camp was maybe 200 miles west and 100 miles north of our present location.

No. This was a different place entirely. A place that instinctively felt safe and familiar to me.

Then it hit me: Camp Drumont!

I'd been here before! It'd been a long time ago to be sure, and I'd have to find more indicators to confirm it-- but it seemed to be so.

I couldn't believe it. We'd made it!

I think much of my optimism though came more from hope and exhaustion than reasoning, in that moment.

Although we were now further than ever from Dana's jeep, we seemed to have lost our pursuit and reached a good place to hole up during the storm. For it'd been quite a while since we'd last detected any clue to Garrett's gang still being on our tail.

This place was a large semi-research related camp site deep in the mountains, something less than twenty miles from the mystery lodge as the crow flies.

And not the type of research done where I'd had my brains scrambled. But more down-to-Earth research, about the flora and fauna of the surrounding mountains.

I'd been here before, amazingly enough. But so long ago as to seem another lifetime entirely.

The place looked deserted. I guessed it was due to the present spraying quarantine. Or maybe it was closed up for the winter. For up in these parts you could get stranded for maybe weeks at a time with a good snow or icing over. Even mid-autumn, like now.

I hoped there'd be some food still in storage. For my meager supply meant for just a day hike or slightly over was long gone. And we'd sure burned lots of calories in the chase cross-country. I'd given all my pack stores to the girls, and now felt hungry enough to eat a horse.

This was one big camp, with barracks enough to accommodate hundreds of people at a time. There were a couple barrack-style warehouses, each with a dozen or so separate great rooms, each great room hosting maybe a dozen regular beds or dozen bunks of duals each.

Multiple class rooms of pre-teens and/or teens sometimes spent a week or so at a time in this place, during the warmer seasons. I knew that because that's how my own previous stay had come about, long, long ago. Maybe 20 years previous! Wow!

There was a small cafeteria, a full-sized gymnasium, a fenced-in swimming pool (now dry), and several other buildings. Also various sports fields, mostly in the center of the camp, and extending somewhat out its mouth, where the entry road came in.

All smack in the middle of a great wilderness. Somewhat like the mystery lodge itself. Only there was a nice paved road leading from this camp to civilization.

Civilization though was maybe 25 or 30 miles away by that route.

The place was locked up tight as a drum. So we broke and entered. The cafeteria first, of course. And later the barracks. There was no outer perimeter fence to get past. I tried to pick spots for my survival vandalism that anyone else wouldn't easily notice on quick examination, just in case we got company. And of course tried to minimize the damage I did too, just on general principles.

I was relieved to find the water and electricity working. I'd half suspected such utilities might be shut down.

We didn't even look for a phone until after we ate and drank our fill in the cafeteria.

I think I worried the girls in the cafeteria when I kept myself wrapped up tight in plastic sheeting after we arrived, trying to get my convulsive shivering from the cold outside under control, as I sat at a cafeteria table. The girls brought me seconds of food and drink, which I consumed as if they comprised my last meal on Earth.

I finally got warmed back up-- and the food and drink felt like literal life-savers. But the awful shivering had caused my rib pain to shoot through the roof, taking a tremendous toll on my remaining reserves. Coming to the apparent end of the long hard hike had helped a lot, to be sure. But the shivering actually peaked in the cafeteria as I sat there, before subsiding again. In my weakened state I'd simply gotten too chilled in the cold rain.

But I finally got warmed up again. And the food helped tremendously.

In the search afterwards we did find a phone in one office. But it was dead. Maybe because of the storm. Maybe because the camp was closed. Maybe some other reason. I don't know.

Of course, even though we had lights, I figured we'd have to be careful about using them at night. I thought we might put up black out curtains or something, and use just one room or whatever. But we would never get around to taking those extra precautions. At least not specifically for security reasons.

I badly wanted to just lay down the moment we gained entry to the barracks, but knew I'd be unable to rest unless I'd first checked out the entire camp and our surroundings for possible dangers-- including another encounter with the gang. No matter how spent I knew myself to be. You can never be absolutely positive you've rid yourself of folks like that, without putting a lot more obstacles between you and they than we presently possessed.

The girls didn't complain too much when I insisted we check out the place before settling in. It helped that we'd raided the cafeteria first and so had something to munch on during subsequent explorations. And that the rain diminished a great deal around that time, to just a sprinkle for a bit. And although the present storm clouds gave a twilight appearance to the scene, it was still technically daytime.

Once I was more or less satisfied we were alone in the camp, I went to the camp building sitting a bit higher than the others due to the uneven terrain, used some handy plumbing pipe-work at one end to climb up onto the roof, and from there surveyed the woods around the camp for signs of the gang.

Yeah, it was wet and slippery up there, and we couldn't be sure the lightning was over with. But I wanted to look around one last time before dark. Get some sort of early warning if our pursuit was about to suddenly threaten us again. For we'd been unable to telephone out for help.

I was utterly exhausted, and knew I'd be going no further any time soon. But if I saw the gang coming now I could just turn most everything over to Dana and Kathy and send them on to the jeep, while I did my best to keep the gang occupied here. With a little luck the girls could escape undetected, and the gang would assume they were still here with me, hiding somewhere in the camp.

Yeah, it could take them a whole couple days to search every nook and cranny of this place. Giving Dana and Kathy plenty of time to get away. Even a fat margin of error in case they got lost once or twice during their escape.

I was so tired right then the possibility of dying seemed an even better option than usual. Especially if it helped Dana and Kathy to make it out. I'd do my damnedest to keep them both from harm.

And saving them might even make up for me not saving Bridget in Texas.

A couple tears rolled down my cheeks at that. But it didn't bother me. It was sprinkling rain, and I knew my eyes had to be scarily red from exhaustion anyway. I'd seen myself in the mirror that way before. The girls would never know the difference.

I couldn't see much more than tree tops and mountain tops from my perch. All being buffeted by the occasional wind gust. For the trees hadn't yet dropped their leaves-- and the foliage was still mostly green, too. Despite the limits to my inspection, I felt better for making the effort.

I saw no sign of approaching danger. I kind of felt disappointed. For that meant there'd be no redemption for me today.

By then Dana and Kathy were waiting for me in the cafeteria once more (the building next to the one I'd stood atop). I arrived to see them eating again. I joined in.

We soon went back to the barracks. This time to stay for a while.

What happened next? An unexpected oasis in the woods.