Somebodys watching me by D.A.Sanford - HTML preview

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Warning: Contains adult content due to graphic descriptions of any or all of the following:

Battles, Language, Sexual

 

Both the cover and images in this book are not photographs or hand drawn art. They were created using AI text to graphics programs by the author.

 

Somebodys watching me © 2026 D. A. Sanford

 

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for permission from the author contact danielsanford@sbcglobal.net

 

Is the feeling that someone is always watching paranoia?

 

Ever get the feeling that you are being watched? Today, cameras are everywhere.

Everyone has their phone out and recording constantly just to get that one shot at fame.

Door cams, dash cams, stop light cameras. Now the reports are that even your television reports what you are doing at any given time.

I have noticed that what I am looking at on my computer suddenly pops up as advertisements on the web browsers. All this watching has gotten to the point that there are instruction videos for finding those hidden cameras in hotel rooms. Hotel rooms?

How did that 1984 song go “I always feel like somebody’s watching me, I have no privacy.”

I just want to runaway but where? Talks of wars. Buy gold as a hedge against the crash.

Survival rations are your best bet. Disarm the public. I have cancelled my newspaper subscription. Very rarely watch the news. I have two four wheel drive Jeeps, both have small tents in each along with different tubes that have different devices to start a fire.

Hell, if anything starts, I can grab one and go.

Can you tell, I am the average citizen in this world. Tension always snaps when it is too tight.

I have an outlet. I drive all back roads on what used to be called a Sunday drive. I just let the Jeep take me on all the back roads. Where I live, there are still a lot of dirt roads.

Some of which are no longer actually maintained.

Some go only so far. Some go a long way. I do like those because I can see that I may be the only one to travel that road in even decades. These are usually ones that have been bypassed by a major interstate. One of those is my favorite. It has an abandoned railroad tunnel. One end is collapsed but that is the other end, not the road end.

I have camped here many times throughout the year. Even during the winter. There has been no one. No graffiti, no trash other than the windblown items. It is ideal for what I really want. I have found that the land that it is on is considered unsellable due to the very fact of the tunnel. I was able to file a quick claim on it. The county sold it to me for a dollar with the stipulation that I could not back out or sue the county for any existing condition. I took possession of that entire area “as is”

Starting with that tunnel, there are two small rooms, they are more like closet size alcoves. I found that those were designed for the possibility of someone being in there

when a train was coming through. It was a place to get in to save yourself from that oncoming train.

You can see examples on the railroad bridges across rivers. They have platforms at intervals for the same reason.

Now I have started to expand one of the rooms. I drill with a military surplus set up.

Chiseling out rocks and using them to close up the open end of the tunnel. You may ask how do I know how to do this? In my teen years, my father worked construction on a dam project. He would come home and tell an eager son tales of what he did that day.

Sometimes he would bring home interesting rocks that he had blasted out.

I started to watch videos of doing that job. When I started to work, that is exactly what I did. Drilling and blasting. There were times that we could only chip away at the rock. I got really good at it. Opportunities came up to where I went in a different direction.

Now, that experience is coming in handy. It did not take very long for me to make a wall three feet thick covering the tunnel entrance with an imbedded steel door that is a few inches thick. Heavy duty locking system that is controlled from both sides. That door has an outside surface of attached rocks so that, when closed, it blends in with the collapsed look.

The collapsed side of the tunnel now has been shorn up and there is now a thick concrete wall that holds the collapsed look outside in place. For those looking at the outside, both sides look to have collapsed.

There are two large side rooms, each have two floors. The tunnel itself has been enforced with blown on concrete so I have an underground sanctuary where there are no eaves dropping, no cameras inside the sanctuary. The exception to that is hidden surface cameras.

In the actual tunnel, I can park both of my Jeeps in there. I have one that I have left there. That is the official off road one with all the bells and whistles. Aggressive large tires, lights, and winch. My back hoe also stays at the back of the tunnel..

The other is the one that I have at my home. That is the one that I am using to stock my hide. My home is really becoming something that is for show. My neighbors must be glad that I am away for long periods of time. While I was building the tunnels, I was constantly having steel and lumber delivered to that address. I would transport the materials to the tunnel but not before I made the necessary modifications.

Noise must have been annoying. Now that the renovations are finished, all I need the house for is to have, thinking about it, I really do not need it anymore. I have a realtor

sell it. Lock, stock and barrel at a bargain price. I believe that the realtor bought it for the list price and did a flip.

I really do not care. I need to actually withdraw from the world. I have one of those delivery company store front mail boxes. I pay extra for monthly storage. I will come in to pick up what I order on an as needed basis but that can be a month in between. In the winter, I may not be able to get there.

The road has a gate on it. Locked at all times. In the winter I will plow the majority of the road but leave the first part unplowed so that it is uninviting to those who are curious.

Have you gotten the implication that I have had it with all this spying on everyone?

People, like me, who have snapped, have only two options, fight or flight. I have decided to do the latter, flight. I have no desire to fight something that is so imbedded that it will never go away. Fighting it is most likely taking out innocents. Oh by the way, there will be people with their phones out recording you.

Gretta Garbo said it all, “I want to be let alone.”

My world is wonderful. I just do not act like a mole and stay in the tunnel. I have my camp sites in different areas. The birds are enjoyable to listen to. The antics of squirrels chasing each other is my entertainment. I am finally feeling that I am becoming calm, unwinding. This is the peace I really needed. I can just relax.

Why do I feel uneasy about this?

Living for as long as all of us have, when you rid yourself of those outside irritants, your mind searches out something to grasp to worry about. Mine is now every time I get ready to leave to get those items in the mail storage, that car is following me. That slight movement of a bush is someone trying to wrest this sanctuary from me. There is someone that will find me and kill me for it.

I will dismiss the thoughts as residual anxiety. The thing to do is do something about it.

There have been no incursions here, no drones, no off roaders or mountain bikers. The something to do is something positive. My decision was to prepare for that inevitable time when people decide that they need to poke their collective noses into what I am doing.

It took me the better part of a month but now I have a one room shack beside the train track, half way to the tunnel. It does have an outhouse. There is a stream that I do get my water from. I use a pump in my sanctuary to get water but here I have made it a point that it has the appearance of being used daily. I made a path to the water and

have a dipping pivot arm that will dip the bucket in a deep portion. I have a cart and a old milk canister. I make sure that those look used.

To all appearances, it looks like my main cabin. Actually, it is the beginning of summer so I do move in partially. I have a little garden there for winter storage. The stream now has a small stone partial dam so that I can have a pool to soak in on those hot days.

Needless to say, I do spend a lot of time in my sanctuary but during the summer, I find that I love the outdoor stone pit at the cabin for my meals. There is nothing like a fresh kill cooked over an open fire. I will sit and watch the stars.

I will make a show of going into the cabin like I am bedding down for the night.

Sometimes I do stay the night, especially when it rains. I sleep very well with the sound of rain on my roof. That is one thing about living in a mountain. Outside nature does not filter in. Such a shame.

My trips into town are mostly routine. I get my supplies at the town supermarket. Any hardware from the local stores. Then I pick up what is in the mail storage. I still get that nagging feeling of being watched. That is why I left this situation in the first place. I do not even have a radio there. Although I do have my own wifi. That way I can get special items that the town does not carry.

Because I cannot shake that feeling, there are quite a few ways to get to my road. I use a different one each time. I actually enjoy the drive. It helps me unwind.

The town I go to is larger than the little rural corner store and gas station but not like a city. The rural ones know most of the residents and can spot someone that “doesn’t belong there.” Those are the ones that watch you until you drive off. They are the types that you see looking out their windows if they hear a car that they do not recognize.

At least the town has proven indifferent despite my lingering suspicions. Of late though, I can see the town’s folk watching me. They quickly look away when I look in their direction. Am I getting paranoid? I hope not but I also need to err on the side of caution.

I now go to the town in the opposite direction every other time. So far the other town looks at me as the summer crowd. That is the way I like it. I did find a big box store just a little past the town I mainly shop at.

That is the first time that my old sensors started to go off.

Not to raise suspicions in the two towns I normally shop, this big box store is where I get bulk on a number of things I need for cooking. Flour, sugar, spices and a very large load of coffee. As I am checking out in the self checkout line, I can’t help to see others over

stocking. Funny thing is most have a very large quantity of toilet paper. That tells me that there is some impending doom that the news is hyping. I laugh to myself.

I have old worn wash cloths that I use to wipe myself. Wet it, wipe and wash the cloth.

Reusable because I have a separate bin for those. Most will say that it is crude but what the hell do you think our ancestors used. Toilet paper was first common in the 1890s.

Before that they would use rags.

I get back to my sanctuary, unload but now is the struggle. I am trying to not turn on the laptop and look at the news. I succeed this time but for how long? I will need to watch what my reception is the next time I go to town.

 

It’s not paranoia!

I am well stocked, shopping is just to top off what I used. My supplies would last me a full year if I did not plant and hunt. I sometimes just need to drive somewhere anywhere but now I must be cautious.

Alternating which Jeep I take, I make sure that I always take a few five gallon gas cans with me. Fill up the Jeep I am driving and the cans. I have drums for the extras. A fuel extender and I have a hedge against the day that I may find the need to not go into town anymore.

The older jeep now has one of those ski storage carriers on the roof. I don’t ski. That is to cover the mount that I have installed. You see, I am registered as a gun collector.

With that classification, I am able to procure machine guns for historical display only.

That is what the roof mount is for. The steering wheel controls have been modified to control the remote movement and firing.

With what I have been seeing when I go to town, I know that I will need it.

It now has been a few years since I divorced myself from the civilized world. The signs are now prominent. I am down right being eyeballed in both the towns when I come in.

Of late their markets have had signs put up informing customers that there are strict limits on some of the basics due to shortages. Even that box store has shortage signs.

This trip, I see that, in the distant, there really is a car following me. I take the long way home but it makes all the turns. Something bad is going to happen, I just know it.

Otherwise why would someone follow me?

The original collapsed side of the tunnel still is accessible. Like my living side, the tracks were pulled up a long time ago. I made a conspicuous gate on that side just for the purpose of distraction. This gate, unlike the real side, is just a latch type.

I take my time opening the gate, all the while, that car following me has stopped and is watching me. I drive through and I close the gate. Since this is for this very purpose, being followed, I have a few concealed places that I can back into to let someone following me pass by and be trapped.

I back into a hiding spot. Sure enough, that car slowly drives by. I shoot out both back tires. . The driver speeds up but now is facing that collapsed tunnel. No where to go.

“Get out of that car!” I yell. “Make sure that I can see your hands at all times.”

The driver and passenger get out with their hands up. Both do look frightened, they know that they have been caught. The driver, I’ll give him credit, tries to tell me that they just made a wrong turn. They were scoping out a fall hunting site.

“Wrong turn?, I can buy that. You followed me from the town and opened my gate.

Came on my property and you expect me to buy that poor excuse? What is the real reason that you followed me all this way?”

They are silent so I tell them that I will give them a break. “I hunt here on my land. I will give you a full minute to back out of here. After that, I will go on a hunt. If I see you, you’re dead. Now that minute has started.”

They jump back into their car and back out as fast as they can. After that minute I drive back out only to see them further up the road getting ready to change their tires. A few shots in the air changes their minds. I did let them go but drove the route they took. It was not hard to follow. There are shreds of rubber then the distinct marks of rims being driven on the road told me that they were not stopping.

When I built my sanctuary, I made sure that I had a perch, a hide, a gun port of sorts so I could see both sides of this tunnel. It was not a surprise when I saw a few armed men on that side. All were armed. They were trying to find my cabin.

My land, I, by this county’s law, can defend myself against a clear and present danger. I hit what I aim at. I was able to shoot out one of the men’s knees. The others were not as ready as they thought. They ran leaving their partner on the road.

I yell for them to come back and get their buddy. “Don’t ever come back. If you do, you will never live to tell the tale. If the police come here, I’ll hunt you down and it will not be the knee that I shoot.”

I now know that something serious is going down. It is time to hunker down. No more trips for a long while. Time to start fending for myself. Unfortunately, time to see exactly what is happening. Time to look at the news. I hate that I have to but now it is a necessity.

There is a global crisis, not of the news pumping it up, it is looking bad. I now realize that is why they followed me. They suspected that I had somewhere out here to hide.

They wanted to take it from me. What they did not realize is that others will come and take it from them. I do not like it but I now have to destroy both side track beds.

On this side, it was not hard. I dug at the cabin side and diverted the stream. It washed away the cabin and the road before returning to the original stream bed. The gate on this side, I left quite a few dead trees. All they needed was a tug by the Jeep and now

that end is completely covered. Unless you really looked knowing where it was, you will not find it.

The other side of the tunnel, I left alone. Now I close the tunnel door. I have removed all evidence of activity. It looks like a total collapsed abandoned tunnel. I had made sure that I never trampled any of the vegetation around the immediate area. All I needed to do was to make the track look like it has not been disturbed. I brushed it up where my tire marks were. Threw down some of the dead brush and leaves.

It really looks abandoned. Now I shut the access door. That has a concealed sweeper to hide the door opening and closing track. Time to turn on those cameras and watch.

Since the intrusion onto my land, I have embedded cameras into the rock slide and higher on the hillside to get a full view of that side.

News stations were saying that they would stay on as long as possible but even the police have been leaving to save their own families. Whole towns have been abandoned. It seems that this must be some sort of biological that can be spread from person to person. This is all I need to know. I turn off the news. That is the last time I cared to hear anything.

It does appear that my camouflage of this area has worked. I have seen some people camping out on the land on the other side but no one on this side. I have decided not to show myself. With what I did to hide this place and the fact that people are dying, me not showing myself should make others think that either I moved on when the cabin was washed away or I died and the animals ate me.

That is acceptable. Again, I wanted to be left alone.

Locked down in my now hide, I have become what I feared and loathe. I have become what was the reason I left that world. I now am the one that is watching via the monitors.

Isn’t that the feeling I had of being under the view of someone controlling my fate?

There is a growing compulsion to watch those monitors. I remember events and shows in my past that I became obsessed with watching them. I just had to watch because , if I did not watch every second, I would miss the good part. That murder trial, that conflict, a quote reality show unquote. The last was a weekly show of people digging for a lost treasure.

For thirteen years they dug, drilled and tore up that island. Each week they would dig something up and cause a stir about a nail or a piece of wood. When I stopped watching, they still went on for a few more years and found no treasure.

Maybe they did but I never went back to see. I am now watching the same thing but this is real time, Watching and only seeing an occasional animal. I know that I need to turn the monitors off but I may miss that one thing that will possibly ruin my life.

I am obsessed but it is the fear of one day seeing the barbarians at the gate.

It is mid fall when I see some people at the rear side of the tunnel. I had left that untouched. The gate was not hidden. Evidently their transportation must have broken down. They had hiked in while carrying their provisions with them.

They were looking around obviously for anything that would tell them where my living area was. Lucky for me, they did not climb the loose rocks. I could see them telling the children with them not to climb the rocks. I figured that it was only a matter of time until they climb and find the cameras.

Thankfully, the children obeyed their parents

There are three couples. It appears that they have banded together to survive whatever was killing people off. The children are with two of the couples. They have a very crude camp. Some old tents and the couple without children only have what can be described as a children’s tent fort. Blankets covered by a tarp.

At least they have a few weapons for hunting. Most of the time they spend gathering dead wood to keep their central camp fire going. It is apparent that they did not plan for the cold of late fall let alone the frigid temperatures we get when it is full blown winter.

I watch. Those adults make a good show of trying to survive. They are successful with the hunts but I see that they do not have much in the way of other food. I see a lot of prepackaged mixes. Powdered mixes but very little in the way of canned goods. To me, it appears that they were going to rely on scavenging but again, their transportation must be broken down. At least, I have not seen any and they never leave other than to hunt.

I am already finding myself talking back to the monitors. My guts are arguing with my mind and all I am getting is an upset stomach. I know of only two solutions to their plight. When the cold comes, and it always does, they will freeze to death or I will be forced to drag their sorry asses in here. I could just shut off the monitors but I could have shut off that thirteen year show any time before I did but I did not.

I watch as the trees lose their leaves. I watch as that communal fire is now their focus. I watch as all start to just huddle together around that fire. They even let the children sleep by it. I know that they will be the first to die.

Those fucking asshole adults. Cold is here. I find myself getting very angry at those adults for just running, not preparing first. Why did they not anticipate winter. All of them will die the first subfreezing night.

Cold has set in and soon it will snow. They huddle around a campfire to keep warm. I can tell just by the posture of the children that they may not make it through the day let alone the night. Those children already appear to be suffering from hypothermia.

I am now arguing with myself and spitting profanity at the monitors for making me violate the very reason I am hiding. I contemplate just shutting the monitors off because I cannot look anymore. The problem is that I know what is going to happen. I know exactly what I need to do and it is not ignoring them. Those dead will haunt me more than any others. They are just trying to survive.

I will not say that they are trying their best because they are going to freeze. I have tents and sleeping bags rated to subzero temps. They should still be readily available. Hell, most of the houses still will be sound. Fireplaces, out of the wind would be better than the situation they are in.

All I keep asking myself and yell at the monitors is WHY!

I curse those adults because I know what I need to do right this very second. I use the large jeep and drive the road around the mountain. That takes me around fifteen minutes. I make it a point to make noise as I drive into their camp. I get out of the Jeep.

I am angry and yell,

“How dare you make me come out of my warm hide. I watched you in my hidden cameras. You came here not prepared and these children are going to die. You women and children get into the Jeep. I have a place that is out of the weather and is warm.

You three men, pack up everything that is here. I will be back for you in 30 minutes.”

There is really no choice for those families. They knew that this was the end of the road.

They knew that someone lived here but could not find that one. I found them. They knew exactly that they were going to die sitting here.

They must have decided that they would let the fire go out after the children fell asleep by the smoldering embers. They had decided that they were just going to go to sleep.

Now here is an angry man cursing them out but is offering to save them.

The three men looked at each other and they each nodded in affirmation. They would sacrifice themselves to at least let this one take the women and children to his place. He said it was warm there. They would live.

They told the women to take the children and go with me. They got into the jeep. It was crowded but we made it back to my end. I can see that they are very afraid. All they see is fallen rock. I do not say a word. I pushed the button on the dash. The rock slide opens up and we drove in.

I ushered them into the main floor where I mainly live. It has the kitchen, bath and pantry. Showing them the facilities, I show them the only locked door. I don’t care if I come across as a dick, I’m angry at myself for not turning those cameras off.

“This door is locked for a reason that I will not get into right now. For now, wash up in the shower. Put those clothes in the washer and clean them. There are clothes and or robes you can use. Someone start some soup. I need to get your men.”

Arriving back, the men have all of their camp packed. I can see that they were not expecting me to come back but prayed to God that I would. That is why they packed.

Between the back hatch and the roof, we got it all loaded. I approach and they think the same thing, rock slide. I hit the button, the rock door opens and I drive in.

The women come out and are crying seeing that I did not kill their men. They did not say as much but I could see that it was written on their faces and in their minds. They knew that is why I had their men stay behind. I wanted a harem. That added to my frustration. Isn’t that the same reason I left society? Isn’t that the reason I shot at those who followed me?

The difference, the only difference was that I had the means to make this whole sanctuary and escape. I actually am pissed at myself for feeling superior. I do not regret doing this because now I can do something positive. That is the real crux of the reason I am mad.

These feelings, this sanctuary all had to be someone’s plan. Isn’t that the feelings I had of being watched, being steered in the direction they want me going in. Really, I am just mad because I have a good feeling with what I did.

I tell the men to do the same as I told the women and children. The men first unloaded the Jeep. I had them put it in the vacant two story room. “That will be your living area.”

Then I actually stomp off like a spoiled child. I do not care. I am actually mad at myself for being a true human. For all my pretenses of being antisocial, I care.

Clean and fed, I call a meeting. I don’t care how I sound because they can see my frustration again. “I will be grumpy for a while. This was my sanctuary from civilization.

You men, there is a lot of lumber in the tunnel. Where you put your things, make three separate walled homes so to speak. This floor will be the communal area. What food you have must go into the pantry, we all share. You men will hunt, you children will help these three women keep this place running. Before you three women complain about

the dishes, my schedule has me doing the dishes when I ran out of dishes. I will let you do as you please.

I know that you must have more clothes, make sure that you wash and dry at least a few changes, I will do my own.”

They actually are staring at me so I give them the run down. “I have always been alone.

I do not separate the whites from the colors when I wash my clothes. After a while, the whites surrender to the color clothes. That is why this white tee shirt is now dirt brown.

It’s clean but brown.”

The looks I am getting.

It does not take long for them to sort their things. They are warm and fed. For now they have set out their bedding on the second floor of their side. The children and women have fallen asleep.

Time for the men to talk but first I stop them. “I am single and want to stay that way. I do not care what relationship you three have but in here you are in closed marriages. Less strife. My shelter, my rules. Now what do you want to talk about?”

They go into what do I want for staying here? I tell them that I have all I want. “There will be no arguing, maybe loud discussions will be allowed. Until I trust all of you, I control the remote and the armory. I know that you must have weapons. They must be in the armory, period. You will hunt, only after I feel that I can trust you I will hunt, but until then I stay behind with your families. Remember, I have cameras all over both sides. I control the remote to get in or out.”

It does take a few weeks but they earn my trust. I do send out two to raid some stores for clothing. They really did not have much. They were to get all sizes, but mainly rugged clothes, all the underwear, shoes and socks. We hooked up the trailer to the Jeep. The one with the ski roof holder. I have them remove the top. There is the fifty caliber. Two more ammo cases in the rear seat.

“Keep the top closed at all times but if there is the slightest hint that you are being followed. Destroy them. Keep safe. I cannot stand to hear crying.”

They go but there was no problem. Both the jeep and the trailer were loaded. The store had not been looted. They will go back and bring all the remainder of the canned food back on a next run. They had loaded the back of the Jeep with canned vegetables and meats. There were even mixes for breads and such. The trailer was stuffed with the clothing in all sizes. All are jeans, thick fleece shirts along with normal shirts for in here.

They also had blankets and pillows.

I could tell that those were things that will make their wives and children happy.

With that load and subsequent trips, we now had food that will last indefinitely. They even had those powdered drink packets for the children to have as a special treat. I myself cannot stand the powdered milk but that was for the children.

 

Suspicions; trust is fragile

Things have settled into routines. The children help for a portion of the day. They are allowed to play but I do have a lot of books. I love reading all different genres. Call me an odd one, I do have school books. I love mathematics and have been doing a lot of relearning. I was a well respected engineer, I, for whatever reason, like to review my knowledge. That means going over the basics.

Much to the disappointment of the children, I sit with them every day. They are being taught the basics. I get no protests because they treat me as that grumpy man who could toss them out into the snow at any moment. I need to sit with the whole lot of them.

After I have not made any move that would intimate my throwing them out, I even let them take the Jeep and trailer numerous times. Hell, I even have been feeding them from my stores. Do I really need to have to talk about this?

Everyone is now wondering why I called a meeting. I look at the children then the adults. “What the hell have you been talking about? These children act like I am going to throw them out at any moment. They have only you six to listen to and they do listen.

You, as children, have heard conversations your parents have had when they thought you were not listening. These ones have heard something. They are frightened of being around that campfire you had. What have you been saying when you thought they were asleep? Should I ask them?”

I look at the six and actually do not need to have them answer. They have the look of both anger and its cousin, fear. I know those feelings intimately they are constant companions. Why do you think I have the only key to the armory.

This atmosphere still has that air of trepidation. It has permeated the very heart of living here. The false happy has taken over their faces. Polite banter. There is substance to the talk but always with something beneath the waves. It feels like they have been given each a can and told to bale the lifeboat when the life boat has quite a few leaks.

I have to just accept it but the key is hidden in my second floor. That is where the armory is and I do feel that I need to have something under my pillow.

That is how the winter went. The tension just became normal.

Finally the monitors showed that spring was actually here. Leaves started to show.

Green has returned. Life has once again returned to the outdoors world. We open the door to the outside and let the old stale air out. It is wonderful to breathe that fresh spring air.

The mood seems to brighten, maybe they have finally accepted that I was not the devil that would throw them out into the cold to freeze. Their mood has changed along with the season. I really need a break myself.

To give them a time to relax, to unwind so to speak. I tell them that I want to go out to see how the world has weathered the winter. “I’m going to be gone over night. I need to see what has happened out there for myself. I will avoid any gathering of people and will not bring anyone back. I’m taking the Jeep with the machine gun.”

I pull out of the armory three side arms, two rifles and a box of rounds for each. “This is so you can protect yourselves for overnight. Get yourselves some fresh kill but no doe or harem bucks. They are for the future like you are. Enjoy yourselves.”

With that, I drive off, with the armory key, of course. There is a reason I gave them that limited amount of ammunition. I had put far more into my Jeep last night. This morning there was every round still in there. It was in the sack that my extra sleeping bag should have been in.

I really have an enjoyable time alone with my own thoughts. I drove around allowing myself to savor the freedom from that tension. It was my objective to let them finally see that I did not wish to throw them out. When I return, they hopefully will have let those feelings go. After all I am showing them my trust in them.

The immediate area around my sanctuary is deserted. The population must have dwindled down to a number that was unsustainable. There were quite a few houses with desiccated corpses. Whether they died of the cold or of whatever was released, you could not tell.

The only indication for most is the fact that the food stocks were almost nonexistent in those houses. The ones near were picked clean. I did find quite a few with weapons and ammunition. I took all that I found.

I did find a camper. One of those small homes style, just a two person type. I hooked it up. It will make a good overnight retreat for those couples. They would be able to take a drive for their overnight escapes. All this is for my comfort. I do not want that atmosphere next winter.

The journey extended to a two night expedition. I have that trailer. It is almost filled to the point that, with the Jeep’s interior filled, we should be able to exist until next fall. By that time, the seeds I found will yield their vegetables and fruits. Another trip will need to be made to get the canning jars and boiling tubs I found. They are safely stashed in the basement of a house near the store I found them in.

It was time to go back. The sanctuary should now be relaxed.

Opening the rockslide door, I did not expect what I was greeted with. The other Jeep and trailer were not there. No one came out to greet me. All that I found was a note on the table telling me that they had had enough.

“Now that it is warm again, we will just get out of your way. Thank you for getting us through the winter but your attitude sucked. We discussed this over the winter. We are going out on our own.”

I panicked and ran upstairs. The armory door held strong. That is more than I could say for the trim and the walls surrounding it. They found solid rock with that extra strong built in door frame. I made it so nothing or no one could get in and steal my defense.

The stores had been raided to the point that I had what would be a few months’ worth of food. Most of the smoked and dried meat was taken. All of their items from their side were gone also. The clothes, with the exception of mine on my side were gone but they stole my blankets. I figure that they had found one or two more cars when they went out scavenging and stashed them for this purpose.

If I did not bring back what I did, I would have been on short rations for the summer.

What I brought back will last me for quite a while.

First order of business. Both Jeeps have the same remote door opener. My armory has the few extra sets of remotes. That was so I could change the frequency just for this situation. The door is now set to a signal that is not even remotely in the door opening remote ranges.

As an engineer, I was able to wire in a totally unrelated remote sensor. Let’s just say that it is game on. They pissed off the wrong guy. Stole from the one that opened his door to freezing people, fed them and was the only reason for them to be alive.

Knowing of the possibility, I have rigged the old remote sensor to an audio program that I made. Recording my own voice but in an extremely irritating falsetto voice. That will go off both inside but also to an outside hidden speaker. Hearing the message alerts me to the use of the remote from that Jeep. It would be them using it trying to invade.

Steal from the one that saved you? It will be your oh shit moment if I ever see you again. I am seething but also I am realizing that this once more will be my sanctuary and mine alone. Those who betrayed me, stole from me, have soured my being to such an extent that I now will turn off those monitors if I see some in the cold.

I will greet those ones with the open end of my machine gun if they have the balls to return. Children included, they were indoctrinated to see me as the villain, the task master, the slave owner. I’m sure that, given the chance, they would gladly kill me.

I still do not regret saving them last fall but I will not regret defending myself from any or all of them if the occasion arises. I hope that they are not that stupid that I would take them back in with that pathetic display of being unprepared for winter.

That does make me wonder if that display was just that a display. I make it a point to move all cameras to different locations. Hidden better because I do feel now that they found those in the rock pile and did their act. I think that I was played for a sucker.

Whether it was just to get a warm place for the winter or they were going to lock me out at the first good opportunity all depended on breaking into the armory. Once they destroyed the wall, they knew they had to run. The very limited ammunition I gave them said that they could not out last me. They ran. Any trust was hopelessly destroyed. Only fools would believe that I would just forgive and forget.

The next time, I would wake up to finding my throat slit in the night. If they return I will not be the one to die.

Spring came and went. I had a large garden made and it was now in the various stages of growing. With the canning things I retrieved, I also have found books on how to preserve foods. I now have built a large box with a glass front. Inside there are many drying rack shelves. A small fan powered by a solar panel circulates the heated air.

I have dried most of the early crops. Especially the peas. Yes I enjoy the fresh but dried will last until next year. What is left over can be planted. Some, like leaf lettuce, will be left to go to seed. Thinking and planning, that is how you become self sufficient.

So far, the only ones to feed off of my garden is those early birds before I put up the high fencing. I do sometimes wait for the game animals to show up. They restock my meat stores.

Since I had found that the area around me is deserted, I repaired my access road. Easy access for me. Heck, all the detouring around the washout made a trail in itself. A rough one so I figured that I would make it smooth for my sake. In the back of my mind I figured that anyone trying to attack, it would be easier for me if the road was visible.

That fixed road was for the exact reason that those who know where I am will deliberately take that now abandoned detour. To hide themselves. Always plan for failure then improve to remove that failure. I want to live to see many more springs.

I started to clear the trees around my entrance for quite a distance. I do need the firewood for the winter. I figure that I need to figure a way of defending my sanctuary rather than just playing turtle and shutting myself in until they give up. There a lot of nasty explosives out there that could make this just another hole in the ground.

I now have three camouflaged gun ports on both sides. Each has the same field of view but I can have a better line of sight, I can go on the offence when, not if, the need arises. I do expect some or all of them to come back with extra help. After all, they can get back in during the night. They have the remote control for the door. It was on the Jeeps dash after all.

The summer was again pleasant. Falling back into that luxurious life of being all by myself, I am enjoying the ability of just being myself. Getting up in the morning and not getting dressed right away. Just walking around in what I wore or didn’t ware to bed the night before. Getting out of the shower and air drying.

Believe me, it’s a guy thing. I’m back to doing the dishes once every eight days. They took all but one set of dishes when they left but fortunately, they did not realize that someone out scavenging really does not take the dishes from each house.

Not the brightest bulbs in the box.

I have even gone out and found a lot more. If I get in the mood, I just use the dirty ones as targets for my weapons target practice. I do need to keep sharp. One round, one kill.

Yes, it may seem like I am obsessing, I am. I need to, that is the only way I will survive alone against unknown odds. I figure that they most likely will try subterfuge to gain access. They should not resort to explosives to gain entrance due to potentially damaging the tunnel. After all it was condemned because of that. If they do try, it would be at the other side of the tunnel. A natural rockslide is easier to blast away.

Again, the only way to stay alive is to plan, including abandoning this sanctuary.

Summer is going by peacefully. I have planned and prepared enough to cover most of the possibilities that my mind can make up. I have diverted a portion of the stream to make a soaking pool. The sun warms it better than the flowing portion.

The only thing better would be a beer while soaking. I need to go to the library next time to see if there are any books on brewing. Even in modern times, beer only lasts for so long and then it becomes skunk beer.

I do have a good selection of wine and other spirits. There must be a self imposed limitations on consumption. A glass after supper. Drunk causes you to miss important items. One comes to mind. I do need to find a way to make ice if I can make beer.

Once again, I can tell that the cold is creeping in. The last of my harvest is dried or canned. The meat locker is full of smoked and dried. I will only need the occasional fresh kill for my own taste treat.

All that clearing wood is chopped, split and stacked. It is going to be an enjoyable time. I did find the brewing books and it was actually easy to find the ingredients. After a few failures, I had a decent tasting brew. It would not win awards but I like it. This place is now ready to face the winter.

Spring, summer and fall are all to prepare for winter. Winter you can relax. Feast or famine it is too late to do anything about it.

Now comes the time that I need to watch the monitor.

One predawn morning it happens. I hear that annoying falsetto voice. “Just a minute.

I’m in the shower. I need to put something on.”

 

Confrontation

They used the remote. They tried to open the door. From my vantage point, my gun port, I can see most of both roads. I cannot see them anywhere near but they are here. I wait and watch.

Soon I see a man and woman come down the detour path. They do not notice the stones lining the road leading to the door. Each is exactly spaced a yard apart for my sake. They pass the fifty yard mark and I use the same speaker to tell them to halt.

“Stop right where you are. If you don’t I’ll drop you where you stand. Why the hell have you returned?”

The man explains that they were compelled by the two families to go along with them since I was probably going to kill the men. “We are totally innocent. We just want to come back. It is getting cold out here.

I push the old remote and that same message was heard again.

“I changed the remote to a new one. Before you showed yourself, you tried to open the door. Now show me the remote and I may just let you live”

He is sputtering as he says that it is back in the Jeep. “Oh my Jeep you mean. How is this. Your woman needs to go back and get that Jeep with the trailer. She now needs to drive it here. If you move even a muscle while she is gone, I’ll drop you like the dumb shit you are.”

She goes back up the drive and onto the old road. That tells me that they wanted to remain hidden. She is taking too long. I see some movement in the bushes. I spray that whole area. The movement stops and all I hear is some groaning.

I aim and drop the man standing there. Now the Jeep comes down fast. It is not the woman driving. I have no problem. I spray the Jeep and the trailer. I have gone through the nine yards of fifty caliber rounds. Reloading, I yell to anyone still alive.

“I do not give a shit if there were those children in that trailer or in the bushes. All come out or I will hunt you down like the dogs you are.”

Only one of the older kids comes out of the brush. He is crying that I killed his siblings.

All they were doing was hiding from me. With that, he raises what I see is a pistol and fires at where he thought I was at. That was the speaker location. He dropped like a stone.

“This is your last chance. Sending a kid to do your dirty work. You are nothing but filth.

Thinking that you could just send the children to kill me. I would not kill a child. Those you trained were not children, they were enemy combatants. Casualties of war.

More shots ring out as I see two women charging at my location screaming that I killed their children and their husbands. I hit each in the knees. They dropped their weapons as they fell to the ground.

I shot their weapons.

I now am comfortable to come out. Those women were the last of that group. Not being stupid, I drive out in the Jeep that has the roof mounted machine gun. I never told them that I had eight of them in the armory.

Pulling out into the yard, I sit for a few minutes. No more gunfire. I pull up to the shot up Jeep and trailer. There was only the male driver in the Jeep. I use my AK and empty another clip into the trailer. I find a few more men in there.

I got careless but fortunate. I was at the rear door of the trailer when a few shots came from the brush near the stream. They were poorly aimed and the doors shielded me from the ricochet. I sweep that bush and I hear the mother scream that it was the girls in there.

There is only the woman that was supposed to drive the Jeep. She hasn’t shown back up. I later found her. She had been killed in the Jeep attack. A stray round got her.

Fearing more, I make a hastily retreat back to the sanctuary. Back to the monitors. The rear showed the remaining of the group climbing the rocks. They looked to have some sort of explosive. I open the gun port and shot them all.

This must have been a community outing. There were more than the original ones. I do not care. I go to the front port and end the shouting of those two women. Now all is quiet. I did not want to do that but I had to do just that. All, with the exception of that man who stood before me, shot at me. Tried to kill me. I killed them. Now they could rot for all I am concerned. I wait.

By night fall, I had gotten some sleep, cat naps of sorts. Figuring that they may try a night attack, those cameras are also night vision ready. I stay up all night but nothing.

Noon the next day, I feel that I can come out but planning makes a difference. I had metal panels screwed to the tractor to protect me.

Driving out, there are no rounds fired. I start to scoop up those bodies that are in the front. This tractor is one of those that have the grabber on the front bucket. I am able to grab each body and place them in a pile.

All the parents, all the children and that couple are accounted for. The extras including those ones at the back made seventeen people. There was no evidence of anyone fleeing. It is a shame. They could have spread the word, “don’t go anywhere near me.

You will die.”

It is obvious to me that I can expect more to try. Time for me to send a message. All the bodies of those I killed in the front are now sitting on the side of the road leaning against the metal guard rail with the shot up Jeep and trailer.

Painted on the side of the trailer is “Helped them through last winter. They stole almost all I had in the spring. They came back late fall to kill me. They trained their children to kill. Come at me and die.”

That is a warning to all those who want to try. Try and you die. The ones at the rear, I actually propped them up with one arm in the waving position where they fell. Warning signs to all, “Don’t fuck with me.”

I could see that there were some random people that were passing through. The reason I figured passing through was because they saw the waving decaying bodies and they ran away as those told them “Hi I fucked up and got dead. Run or join me.”

The winter was better than last winter. It snowed more, was colder but I enjoyed my peace.

There is a reason for that. It is said that the greatest mental risk is solitude. All the medical books tell of inmates going mad due to solitary confinement. What those studies fail to mention is that some of us are built for that.

Mountain men that explored the wilderness sometimes never saw anyone for years.

They were sane. Hold outs from great wars that were not found for many decades after were stunned that the war was over but were sane. I love my solitude. This winter is fine with me.

I pass my time reading, writing and when the weather permits, I go hunting. All the little things that others just over look are fascinating.

There are beetles in here. Completely harmless. I have caught a few and made metered lanes. Let them loose and time how long it takes them to get through a measured lane.

Calculate the speed then I let them go. After quite a few trials, I am able to get the average speeds of the different beetles.

You may have missed it but I was an engineer. Statistics were my career. All those trials, all the calculations are what is keeping my mind sharp. Why do you think I had those stones in that battle? Accuracy versus range. Plan, do, study and act.

One against seventeen. Seventeen dead and me alive. I set up targets then, from my gun ports, I see exactly where my optimum kill zone was. They never noticed that a few of the stones were white. Those were the kill zone. Calculations then trials, look at the results and then get the white paint.

I do find it fascinating that I dwell on the logistics of that battle but not the killing of all those people. Battle plans, scenarios, different outcomes, all different plans but anyone that tries to kill me are fair targets. Try to kill me, I will kill you.

A big reason that I posed the dead as I did was to show others that I will do what I say.

No hesitations. By displaying exactly how far I will go to protect myself and my sanctuary, only the most dedicated, fool hardy idiots will try. There should be no threats.

Pass me by for easier picking.

The winter has given way to spring. I open up and air out my sanctuary. That was something that I did when I lived in my other home. Closed up winter smells need to be set free. It is like something that has been almost lost. Drying clothes and bedding on a clothes line. That smell is one of a kind.

Putting your head on a bed with those sheets is wonderful. You will sleep soundly that night and have wonderful dreams.

The garden is planted, fallen trees are the first to join the winter stock pile. This year, the Jeep needs to be replaced. Gas will start to go bad so I need diesel. It is plentiful in a majority of basements. That heating oil is almost the same as what came out of the pumps. A dealer should have a selection.

I will scout out one, only when I find one will I strip the Jeep of the mounts and controls.

 

A different kind of people

Being on my own, plans are a necessity. Plans keep my mind occupied. That is why, after coming back from a scavenger run, I went into high alert mode. There before me was a small group of people under a white flag. They all got really scared when I swung the machine gun and locked on to their position.

The leader is the first to speak. “We made a camp and now are starting to build cabins on the other side of Skeleton road. We came to ask you if we could have your permission to take some of the trees on this side to build. The other side does not have enough trees of the right size to build the three sturdy cabins we need.”

Skeleton road? I kinda like that. I must now show that they came to me not the other way around. “I need to see where you are building. In this new world, it does not have the typical boundaries.. I have lived here for a few years now which means I own a large section of this area. I will concede that side to you with one condition, never come at me to take what is mine.

You have told me that the road now has a name. You have seen the message on the trailer. Take it as a warning or you will join those bones. Now show me the area you want to cut.”

They walk, I follow in my Jeep. It is a show of force, a show that tells them exactly who is in charge. Now at the road, I see that I need to make those bones into a pile. Maybe a clear front box but the need to make it show that there is more room for more bones.

I leave the Jeep at the bones and make it a point to display my AK as we walk. I relay to them the exact things that happened to me that made me what I am today. “I protect my property.”

They tell me that they respect my ownership and they could see my determination to stand my ground. That is why they came under a white flag.

Their camp was almost a mile up the road and what they tell me it is the same distance off the road. So far I have no trouble. They get to a trail and I stop them there. I am comfortable with where they are. I look on my side of the road then to theirs.

“You can log across the road on my property but do not come within a half of a mile from my entrance. What do you have to pull the logs? I have a tractor that you can borrow. It will only cost you one tree for every five you take down. That tree is delivered to the beginning of my road. No clear cutting but making small meadows will invite the animals in.

Can you live with that?” I put out my hand.

Their leader tells me that they can agree. We shake on it. These days, a hand shake seals your words. It means you have honor. If you break that deal, you accept the repercussions. I ask if they have someone that can work a tractor. They do have two. I start to walk back but not before I tell them to have one of the drivers stay here.

It did not take very long for me to deliver the tractor to them. Then I walked back. Right now, I do not think that they knew where I live but all the activity, my garden told them that I live nearby. That is why they waited for me to appear.

I walk back and drove here because I did not want them to see my door. Not right now.

There may come a time but not right now. When I reached the prospective driver on the tractor, I asked him to remind their leader that this is a lend not a gift. He told me that he would relay the message.

That bone display was made and I assembled it at the road side. There at the beginning of my access is a large pile of wood. I had expected to have whole log lengths. I am looking at a stacked of cut and split firewood. Better than expected. I am feeling that these are real.

With the bones properly displayed and protected, I decided to go and see them. I need to thank them for splitting the wood. They are respecting my wishes. There are now several areas that will become meadows.

The leader comes over to me and I do thank them for not strip cutting. “We both will see a hunting benefit. I have a proposition for you. Gas is going sour and soon will cause more trouble with the engines. I am going to find a dealer and take a diesel pickup. Like to take a ride.”

He is looking at me with a look of why. I tell him that home heating oil will burn like diesel. “Most homes have tanks in their basement. That does not go bad. Why don’t you take a ride and you can get one for your group.”

He likes that idea so I tell him that we will go in the morning. “There are a few more things I want to hunt down that will benefit both groups. We will talk tomorrow. I will pick you up in the morning here at roadside.”

I am trying to get past the bones but there is a difference between both groups. This group is honoring an agreement but there is not the tension that was prevalent with those that are now in that bone box.

That wood, cut and split. I want to be left alone but since people are here and leaving me to myself, I feel that they respect me. Yes the bone box gives one impression but these are not causing me to grab the antiacids.

Tomorrow will tell me which way this will go.

In the morning, he is again at the wood harvest area. One look, I shake my head.

“Would you please go back to your area and get a side arm. We both need to be armed to be able to defend ourselves if necessary. I will wait.”

It does not take him very long to return. He now has a pistol strapped to his hip and it looks like he has a few extra clips. He gets in the passenger seat and we take off.

As I am driving, I ask him about his group. “Were you neighbors or just gathered together naturally? “ I am told that they were camping friends that escaped to their favorite camping area. “We were there until spring but a wild fire came through.”

They did have enough time to pack up and escape. One of them knew of this area but we saw that the tunnel side was occupied, caved in but the bones and the warning told them not to push it. They started to log the trees on their side but found only a few suitable. He told me that they could have just cut on my side but,

“We did not want to join those bones.”

“That is exactly what I want to hear. Those bones were the ones that evidently found my cameras and put on a poor us play. Oh we are going to freeze to death. I took them in, they stayed the winter but had a definite attitude. Then to steal me blind when I went out in the spring to scavenge. I did need to get out of that place for a while. When winter approached, they came back. The problem was they tried to get in before they tried to lure me out into the open with a sorry ass tale.

In that bone box are the bones of their children. They armed them and taught them to kill me. Your group said we can help ourselves. You asked for permission to cut my trees. You showed me the courtesy of asking. That is why you are in that seat, a loaded pistol on your hip. Courtesy.”

I tell him that I want to find a propane heating oil yard. “There is a need to hook up a propane generator for my home. One of those delivery trucks filled with propane would fuel it for a few seasons. How would your group like a set up?”

He likes the idea but then says that we need to find one of those farm supply stores.

They would have all that we would need to hook them up. “They will have those trailer tanks. We could fill them up with heating oil for the trucks.”

Ideas are flowing, I like it. The tension I felt with the other group is not here. Not that I am getting complacent. I was fooled once but I want to go by my gut feelings. Again, since they do not want to move in with me, I can afford to relax, a little.

We find a new car dealer. They had a long row of diesel pickups. We were able to gain access to the manager’s office and got two sets of keys. We locked the building up but not before we filled the tanks.

It is funny how fate works. This is a shopping area. That supply store was near and they had new tanks. Standalone and trailered ones. We each took a standalone in the beds of the trucks and the largest trailered one. There were pumps on the trailer ones that will work for filling the standalone tanks. Fill the trailer for transport and then use that to fill the standalone. Fill the truck with that standalone. That way, when you pump out the last from the trailer, all you do is refill the trailer.

Now we needed to find the propane heating oil place. Again it is ironic but this towns dealer is next to the railroad tracks that replaced my homes tracks. We fill the trailer tanks and return home. When we got to his turnoff, we made plans to get those supply trucks and generators.

It has been a while since the diesel truck expedition. It was decided that, since it was summer, the generator trip was set aside. They were putting all their effort in making the cabins. It is nice to see that now there are several open areas on both sides that you can find the animals starting to return to feed on the new grass.

I do have an idea so I make a trip to get those generators. That place had, you guessed it, propane powered forklifts. With another trailer, I was able to load all they had. One in the bed and two on the trailer. I was smiling on the drive back. These people are becoming good neighbors.

Good neighbors are those who think I won’t complain about what you are doing if you don’t complain about me. That way neither of the sides are being obnoxious about what either are doing. In other words, do not start a midnight drag strip and not expect me to complain. Courtesy.

 

Courtesy and a woman named Sandra No one was out by the road so I honked my horn several times. This made them come to see what was happening. They saw the generators and looked really happy but asked why didn’t I just drive down the way to them.

“You came to my area under a white flag. You never searched out where I live. You stayed at the garden area. I was not going to come into your living area unless I was specifically invited. Am I able to drive down your road to your homes to drop off this trailer?”

They smile. Mutual respect has been shown. I am invited to drive down to their homes.

They pile onto the trailer. It was almost a mile on what was actually an old logging road.

I notice why they did not have enough building size trees. This area had to have been logged maybe ten to twenty years ago. These trees would need to be seasoned for firewood, maybe used to make furniture but not for building.

“Your homes look to be well built. I may just hire you to build some things that I have been thinking about. That will not be until next spring. You have too much on your plate to be ready for winter.”

 

I notice that they do have gardens but I can see that they will run short. I know that now that I was invited to their homes, it is time to show them mine. I have quite a few years food supplies in my stores. I can show that I am not that bastard those others thought of me. I will enjoy seeing their reaction.

We unhook the trailer. I can see that they have been taking good care of the tractor so I tell them that they can have it with the proviso that they would come over to my area to do the spring plowing.

“I am going to need help getting the generator off the truck. Would you give me a hand?

If it would not offend, I have scavenged a lot, especially those big box stores. I have a lot of supplies. Food and other things. I would like a few of your women to come with your men. Use the tractor to move those generators and you can bring some of my extra’s back with you. For the winter.”

Now to liven up the crowd.

“Actually, I invite all of you to come. I think that you would like to see my home. One thing, you may want to bring a change of clothes.” They look at me but they get those generators set on the ground. I tell them to get ready and I would be waiting at the garden area. Then I drive off.

It was less than an hour when all of them come to the garden area. They are looking around but do not see my home. They are looking at my rather large garden. I tell them that I am giving them a third of the crop to greet them to the neighborhood, so to speak.

“Now I would like everyone to step away from the garden, Urine is harmful to the crops”

I love that strange look. They all move away so I tell them that I need to put that generator inside my garage so I can run the wires into my home from the garage parking area. They now are wondering if it is a good thing to have a crazy neighbor.

There is urine smell permeating the air. I pushed the remote and they see the fallen rock face open up to reveal the tunnel. I swing my arm and say, “Welcome to my humble abode.”

None of the adults could move. The few little children were having a ball watching this rock door open. Almost like they expected some large anime robot to come out. The adults start to point and show that the reboot is kicking in.

“I have made this into my sanctuary. I invite you all to come in. You women, I will show you to the stores. You are good people. I want you all to survive healthy.”

We all go in and I give them the full tour. They could not believe that those bones left this place. I show them where they made their homes in that other space. It is now my store room. My living area, I do get a look from those women when they see the sink full of dirty dishes.

I tell them of the bones taking all my dishes. “Imagin this, you are robbing me and you decide, in this world after people, to take dishware. I have so many boxes of table settings in stores, I figure that I will need to do the dishes when I run out.”

The men try not to laugh because they wondered why there was so many dish fragments outside. They surmised how I cleaned the dishes. The one thing that they did envy was my shower room and laundry area. This is where I got back in the women’s graces.

“I do invite each family to come over, make a schedule, to take a shower while doing laundry.” I am actually enjoying this. Not like the other time, I can see the genuine joy of being invited to make use of my facilities.

There was one woman that stood at my sink and washed my dishes. I could see a sour look on her face. It was the look that she could not see those dirty dishes and just leave them there. She definitely needed to give in to the irritation of seeing dirty. She did not care that it was not her place to do them.

The other women told me that she is the sister of one of the men. When this started, the brother had her come along with them to escape. Her brother begged me not to get upset but she even did this during camping.

“If she feels like it shouldn’t be, she will take action whether you like it or not.” They do say that each time it is their family’s turn over here, expect to see her doing the cleaning here.

I decide to interject some feigned humor. I say, loud enough for her to hear me, “I’m a guy. I sweep the floor once a year whether it needs it or not. Don’t get me started about cleaning the toilet.”

She now turns to me with almost a panicked look. She runs to the toilet, comes out and gets right in my face. “Where are your cleaning supplies?” I tell her that they are in the store room. She stomps off, then comes back with an array of things for when she finishes the dishes.

The women just giggle as her brother tells me that I may just have a roommate.

I do not think that I would mind. She is genuine. She would not win any beauty contest based on her rather plain looks but she does have the look that she has found her true purpose. Someone to take care of.

During the day, I see her going from this to that trying to hide a smile. She really does not notice that the others have loaded supplies and with her brother’s permission, they left her here.

I had to almost force her to stop and sit. It was only then did she realize that she was oblivious to the others leaving. Now she was hanging her head and apologizing for getting caried away.

“You have nothing to apologize for. This place is a mess. I thank you for doing what you have done. It is greatly appreciated. How’s this sound? I have rooms here. Room and board for just helping me to keep this place clean. I find your company very pleasant.”

It looks like she has never been told that in her life, She says that she would like that but she gets that fierce look when she tells me that I need to be doing things also. “Not just scratching your nuts while watching the clouds go by.”

You know something, I like her. She has the same personality as I do. I tell her that I do not scratch my nuts while watching the clouds. I do that while I am fishing in the stream.

The mood was broken.

There was still light out. I drove her back to their site. It really shocked her brother and his family when she told them that she was getting her things and was moving in with me to keep an eye on me. She did tell them that it was quieter at my place. “I should be able to sleep through the night.”

I saw the brother’s wife blush. I could figure out what she meant. Her brother shook my hand, wished me good luck. Then he ushered us both out the door. We found that the rest of the group were there. It seemed that they already had taken bets on the outcome of us living together.

Sandra was in her zone. I found out that she is something of a perpetual motion machine. Each day, until I stop her after supper, she does clean every inch of the sanctuary.

She has made a portion of the upper floor of the store room her bedroom. She had hung a few clean sheets as walls of sorts for her privacy.

I was completely startled to find the store room reorganized. It now had lists at each section of what and how many of each. She told me that she will keep track of usage.

The women of the camp have brought their excess over here. They feel that it would be safer because it is stone rather than wood.

Each time the women come over, with their family, to shower while doing their laundry, they will give Sandra their supply list. She will fill it so they can bring it back to their homes. She tells me that when they scavenge, they will bring fifty percent here. That way they can have on hand food just in case of a blizzard.

All the things that I never thought of, Sandra can do. It has been a wonderful time having her here. I do find myself watching her. She is something else. I now find myself not wanting her to ever leave. She has never given me any indication of wanting to.

I will say one thing, I said that she has a plain look to her. Now that I have been living with her, she has relaxed. A relaxed Sandra is actually very pretty. Even the scowl upon finding a dirty spot is becoming amusing to me. For the first time in my life I know the reason that I do not want her to leave but just need to work up the courage.

One day, I find that I need to just tell her how I feel. She is in the stores filling a list for the one using the laundry. Sandra is in her zone at times like this. Just putting another item in the box, she turns and runs directly into me.

Grabbing her to stop her from falling, my arms just react by themselves. I draw her into a hug. She is at first startled but when I did not let go and hugged a little tighter, she actually hugged back.

“I have found that I have grown with you here.” I whisper in her ear. “I always felt that I was built for being a loner but you have changed that. I can no longer think of my life without you in it. I now know love. Please think about it. Will you be mine forever?”

That is when we hear something hit the floor.

 

I have a wife now

The woman, whose list she was filling dropped the laundry basket she was carrying at hearing what I just asked. She actually has tears and rips Sandra away to hug her.

Sandra, for the first time since I met her, has just stopped. She looks at me and pushes the woman away. She puts her arms around my neck and kisses me and says yes.

Then the two run off to the outside where they can talk.

I decide that it is time to pay her brother a visit.

We close up the sanctuary and follow the woman’s family back to the cabins. They must have telepathy because the other women are there at the sight of the two of us following the woman to their homes.

We stop in front of her brothers home, without her saying a word, we walk in as she holds my hand. In the bold tone she has that I like, Sandra just tells her brother, “I am now Richard’s wife.”

I can see her brother’s eye just shifting from her to me quite a few times. His wife just says, “Congratulations. I knew that was going to happen as soon as you came here to get your things.”

She now grabs both of us and takes us outside. She announces to the crowd that we are now married. Handshakes and hugs from everyone. The women demanded to know how I proposed.

Before either of us could answer, the woman who saw it described the romantic way I proposed to her. “She tripped and Richard caught her in his strong arms. He whispered to her that he could not live without her as he held her tenderly in his arms. Sandra could only hang on in total bliss”

Funny, I do not remember half of what she said happened. I know what I said and what Sandra did. I remember it all but somehow, the way the woman said it happened sounded better.

Sandra tells them that she could tell that we both were having feelings for each other.

The way she put it, “We both were like a flower. When we met, we were just breaking the surface into the sun, that sun warmed us enabling us to grow until our blossom bloomed.”

Damn even that sounded better than what I said.

This day and age, that is all we needed to be recognized as married. None of those lavish big ceremonies, not that I would object. No other pretense other than standing before a group and telling everyone that we now consider ourselves as a married couple.

For both of us this was the first time so the night time was awkward. We finally just enjoyed each other’s warmth and each other. Sandra did insist that we take a shower afterwards, together of course.

The next day, we did find another stack of firewood at our winter stack. There was a note from her brother telling us that he was extremely happy for us but also that he no longer had to worry about his sister.

Over the next couple weeks, we just kind of meshed together. There was one bad lightning storm. The rolling thunder was even heard inside our tunnel home. Sandra related to me that it was the type that set the wildfire. She was worried about the cabins.

“What would you think they would say if we offered this sanctuary as a temporary refuge for those times?” I ask. “Bad weather, fires and especially human danger, I could rig up some sort of horn that would tell them to come here running. I could give them a remote if they were the ones to sense danger. It would only be temporary, but we do have the room to shelter them.”

She loves the idea. “We need to ask them but how would you defend against humans. I don’t want you to go out to face them. You were lucky the last time.”

That is right. She knows of the monitors and cameras but I never showed anyone those gun ports. Now is a good time so I take her hand and show her how to access all of the ports.

She is horrified at the sight. I see that puckered look come over her face and the ‘I need to purify this cesspool’ stance I always see when she finds some area that I have not cleaned up to her satisfaction. “Why didn’t you show me that this room existed! It’s so filthy in here.” She yells. She still has not even seen why it is concealed. I hesitate to tell her that there are five more of these behind cabinets along the outside edges of the hill.

“Can we concentrate for just this moment.” I open the port. “I did almost all the shooting from these ports myself. From this vantage point, I can see all. That reminds me. I need to gather the bones from this side and put those in the box.”

I did not distract the cleaning lady super hero from the sight of the foe she had to vanquish.

She can see that I would be safe but it is time for me to clear out. The expression I am getting rivals the one that I first got with the dishes those few months ago. Sandra spent most of the day cleaning those hidden rooms. She finished then asked, “Any more hidden pollution I should know about?”

I tell her that I love her and do the manly thing. I run for my life. I did catch hell when she discovered my brewing room for beer and a still. It was after that, that I was required to move everything away from the walls so anymore hidden rooms could be seen.

The meeting with the group went well. Actually they were trying to figure out how to broach that very subject. They, having to flee from a wildfire, wanted to be able to have a safe place to run to and let the trouble pass safely.

We were told that the living in a tunnel seems nice but they like the outside. They stopped when Sandra muttered that the outdoors is dirty. I can hear her gears grinding at the thought. Everyone remarked that our sanctuary is always so clean.

Winter is here but it is not like last year when I was alone. The very obvious difference is that, once it stops snowing, the tractor is here to clear out the entrance and roads between our groups. It did turn out that my stores were still in use. Thank God that we all are not on starvation rations. After all this, all have the just enough full feeling at the three meals a day. Nothing gets scraped and thrown away.

Soups and casseroles are for leftovers.

Since we have a very large internal area, we get the daytime visitors. The children can run. My library is always having books borrowed. Games and just casual talks help alleviate the cabin fever somewhat. My wife took some of the old clothing, my used to be white tee shirts, those comfortable ones and made a large ball with them. Now you cannot bounce it but you can throw it through a hoop or bat it over a wire strung as a sort of a net.

This was the invention of our own version of basketball and volley ball.

We did visit them some times but it was mostly here. Again freedom to move around without bumping into each other. It was a common topic of the need to add on to the cabins.

I did suggest that they make a long house instead. An area for their meeting but also to do what they do here, play. “We can raid a few library’s and stock it. That way, Sandra and I can get out once in a while.” That idea is now scheduled for the spring after the ground is thawed and firm enough to plow the gardens for planting.

Winter hung on for a month longer than usual but we all can remember that this is not unusual for this region. All it means is that we have less time before next winter but it was enjoyable just to go outside and feel a warm breeze. Something that did not cause you to remember wind chill.

It is spring time. Things are growing but it is also time to clean up the winter damage.

Trees have fallen. The stream has eroded the bank in such a way as to threaten my access from Skeleton Road. There are other things but mostly tree related.

One fortunate thing with fallen trees. Most are really good lengths that are dragged back to the cabins to set aside for the long house. One sad note, the tractor has now failed. It made it to spring but the gas has done it’s damage. The fuel system needs to be completely rebuilt.

It was decided to visit the farm equipment place. They have the diesel versions. We made two trips with the transport trailer they had. Now we have one for the normal work that the other one was used for. The other was a much stronger one that would be used for dragging the trees out. It was decided that it would be easier to drag them out to the side of the road, then to cut and split some of the ones that are not large enough to use for the long house.

Soon there were a sufficient number of logs to start the long house. I came to help. I could not stay in the sanctuary. It is spring cleaning and my lovely wife is dangerous to be around. That is why I went to see what was happening.

They are very ambitious. I was told by George, my brother in law, that they decided to make a storm cellar below the long house. That was for the sudden severe storms such as a tornado. They needed somewhere there that they could hide on short notice.

The long house was actually almost as long as the tunnel. When completed, all we could do is step back and admire the work. This building was strong, well built and enough windows to let sufficient light in but all had sturdy shutters that could be closed against the storms. They did say that they liked outdoors.

I am thankful that they tried to clean it up before I brought Sandra over but I did tell her that she was not to clean without their permission. I tried to throw her off by distraction.

“If you do not try to clean here, I will show you the access to the attic rooms.”

I do regret saying that. She calmed down when I told her that there is no attic.

There was a party to celebrate the new hall. It was a pot luck meal. I brought over some of my beer and I have tried to make some soda from the same process. We actually have most of the necessary ingredients for a root beer here. I use honey for the sweetener.

Sandra tried, jokingly, to cheer me up when it was found that all liked the root beer rather than my beer. I don’t care, the beer is good to me. More for me. Why am I getting the look from Sandra? I do think she can read my mind when she says that we needed to use my time making soda.

She said, “We’ll use that beer to water the garden.”

That is cruel.

We brought home some of the other’s food. I sulked as she did take the beer and used it in the garden. I really need to say that it does not have the shelf life that the commercial ones had. Maybe I will go for the taste but not needing to get an alcohol content.

That actually worked. Even Sandra was pleased. The new taste was applauded by all but I did not tell even Sandra that I now was experimenting with some fruit I have found.

I have that set up for making beer. With a few coils of copper pipe I have and another barrel that can hold cooling water I soon had a batch of decent tasting alcohol. It will bite you and grow hair on your chest. I’ll work on it some more. It looked so easy on that TV

show.

 

Sandra

It is full blown summer but everyone is on edge. Sandra was going to be an aunt sometime very soon. She almost ran out the door when she heard that Ella is in labor.

We now have a radio setup in both camps.

I caught her and we drove over. Seeing the men and children on the outside of the house, Sandre was allowed to come in but the door was slammed in my face as I tried to come in. The men laughed because they had seen the same thing happen to George.

“We were told to make sure that he does not get in before the birth. For his own health.”

I get an idea and drive back to my place. Soon I was back with quite a few jars of liquid.

I needed to have someone else give a taste test. All questioned what it was? They took a taste and told me to give up and stick to soda.

One came to my partial rescue. It can be used as an antiseptic and cleaner. Well I guess that is a win of sorts. We needed something like that but it is a blow to my ego as a man. I have found that I am not the superhero that Sandra is.

I still have some good points.

Soon we hear the cry of a newborn. We men wait until we are invited in but the women need to clean up both the mother and child. I am quite sure that they will let my wife clean the room.

After the tired Ella held her baby, the room gasped as Sandra tenderly holds the baby.

She walks over to the wash station to clean it up. She is giving every woman in that room the stink eye. They all started to explain to her that the baby was delicate and not to scrub it clean.

“For one second do you think that I would allow any harm come to this one? I’ll kill and die if necessary to protect this one.”

She gently supports the baby in the wash basin. Using the soft cloth that was used to wash your face, not scrub, she carefully cleaned the baby. Dried it off and wrapped it in a small blanket that Ella had made just for this purpose.

Sandra smiled a warm smile. They could tell that she really did not want to give her prize up but she walked over to Ella and gave her prize to the new mother.

“All of you clear out. Let George in but hold back the others. This needs to be their alone time.” She ushers them out of the house. “George, go in and meet your family.” Is all she said.

He went in as best as his feet would let him. “My husband, meet your son.” Those words stopped him in his tracks. Ella then pronounces that his name is George junior.

Only then does she have him hold his son.

After all the meet and greet for all was done, all were hustled out of the home because junior had to be nursed and Ella needed rest. The women took turns watching over the mother and son. Sandra stayed here for a week helping .

I expected nothing less. My wife is actually very caring but I could tell that she also wanted the time to be with the family that she escaped with. I know that she does love me and will only stay until Ella gets her legs back under her. The other women are helping out so when a week had passed, Sandra just said her good byes and walked home.

There was a sadness that had come over her. We sit and talk. She explains that her mother was the only one of four sisters that could conceive. The rest of the sisters were baren for their lives. That was almost a family trait. She is bothered because we have not been able to get her pregnant.

There is nothing that I can say so I do the only thing I can do. I lied. There technically is an attic space. The second floor in the store room side, has a ceiling. I did make a hatch way to it just in case. I told her about it but she said that she would get to it later.

All I did was to hold her. After an hour or so, she pushed me away. Evidently her sad thoughts that momentarily distracted her were trampled in the dirt that she knew was plotting a takeover. After all, that dirt was above all in this, it’s kingdom.

The super hero emerged. The foe has been vanquished. I now know that it is her way of distracting her mind, especially at this time. Later I did sit with her and tell her that she needs to grasp the fact the she is the only woman that her mother had. The odds are in her favor. We both know deep down that we probably will never be parents.

It is my task to make her happy. I now pretend to wipe my feet coming in but make sure that I track dirt in. I always get yelled at but she knows that it is my way of helping her cope.

I came into the home area of the tunnel. “My darling, would you please come with me.”

Leading her to the area where I have my cars, I show her my latest. It is a SUV but is modified, the back seats have been removed. In their place is a small cabinet and a bed. Mounted on the rear hatch door is a mini camp kitchen.

“I want you and I to go scavenging for a few days, roughing it so to speak. We do need some items but this is more to just get away. I do warn you, we will only have some wipes.”

She gets ready but has a bag of necessities, i.e. cleaning supplies. She tells me that she is not going to ride with me with the weeks old laundry in the car. I figured that she would do that but I told her that the dirty clothes would be strapped to the roof. That caused me to go into the self preservation mode of ‘Yes dear. You are right dear.

Please forgive me.’ I get the shivers at her just looking at me in that way.

For all of you men, sincerely make that statement otherwise you might just wake up in the morning minus some of your bodily equipment.

We take off and just drive for the first day. I can truly see that Sandra is actually relaxing. It is a perfect day for a Sunday drive. Temperature is just at the point that having the windows rolled down is refreshing. The sky is clear with just a few scattered light clouds. We even have the random bugs that are not paying attention. I may need to stop when there is a stream to do some serious cleaning.

I do see a stream, I stop but before I could get out, the super hero is already out of the car and attacking the dirty windshield. When it is cleaned, I decide that this is a good spot to spend the night.

There have been no other people that we have seen. I do have her radio her brother that we are stopping for the night. It gives her a chance to check up on the baby.

 

Our trip was great

Over the next few days, we have stopped at a few sites and found a lot of items that we need for restocking. The roof rack is almost too high but that is what they make ratchet straps for. A tarp and a dozen or so straps, let’s just say that we will not lose anything on the way back.

We take another route back. Why not, we really have nowhere to go and all the time to get there.

Sandra almost hit her head on the windshield when I slammed on the breaks. There in the road is a genuine steak on four hooves. A couple of cattle just grazing on the grass that is on the side of the road. No fence, no way of containment but especially, no brand. I want steak!

I turn around and go back a ways. I remember seeing a horse trailer in a yard. Pulling up to the house, I honk my horn. The yard shows that no one has been there in a few years but I need to err on the side of caution. No one comes out. I pull in and knock on the door. It was not locked so I opened it. There were a few skeletons in there.

I shut the door and hitched the trailer.

The cattle were still there but the trailer was only big enough for one of them. They still had memories of people. The really big one followed me as I held out a nice handful of the tall grass they were enjoying. No problem it was in and the door was locked.

“My dear, would you please call your brother. We should be only around five hours from home. Have him bring some people to help us slaughter this one. When he asks what we have, just go moo.”

She does. The screaming that George and Ella made was wonderful but he warned us that if we were joking, we would join the bone box. He was not joking about that, the thought of beef has me drooling so we stop and Sandra walks to the trailer as the cow actually voices its objection on not being let out.

By the time we pulled in, all the residents of the cabins were here. I put a rope around its neck and it casually backed out. It started to munch the grass. All are just staring, all are drooling. We have not even had a burger in all these years. We led it over to a patch of long grass near a very hardy tree.

This is part of life now. Animals like this are not pets. They are food. As it is grazing, I shot it in the head and it dropped. It took quite a few of us to hoist it up by its back legs and gut it.

Hunting and doing the same for deer, we all know how to gut, skin and butcher. I do not care, I need beef. I had someone make some really good coals. Soon some of the loin was on the grill. It seems that some or most started to count and were telling the cook to flip. All wanted various stages of rare.

The remainder of the carcass was cut up and most went into our freezer for metering out but all went home today full of beef and a generous cut for them to age or cook tomorrow.

The hide was taken to the cabins. There is the one that tans all the hides that is drooling over it. He even does the rabbits that are caught. Fur lined gloves for the winter. This he says will make some much needed items. Especially really good working gloves.

That cut up beef was used through the year for celebrations. It lasted well into the next year’s spring. It was decided that we would go, this time, with a few trailers and corral them on my land.

All backed away when Sandra gave them the over the glasses look, even though she does not wear glasses, when they suggested the cattle could spend the winter in the tunnel.

Rethinking the idea, we would just go to the area and get one for slaughter and one for later use. We would make a barn. The farm store had a hay mower and bailer that would work with the tractors we had. As long as we promised Sandra that we would keep the barn clean, or else.

For some reason it was decided that they were better off being free range cattle. They would be able to mate and then herds would develop. Yes, we are being smart to make sure that we do have a future supply of beef.

Who the hell are we kidding? Facing Sandra sometimes scares even me and I’m her husband. The others have their area to retreat to but they fear the wrath of the superhero more than their lust for beef.

Now that we have had a adventure, She is more relaxed. I can tell because she actually is sitting out in the sunshine enjoying some of my root beer. I have gotten very good at soda making. Sandra is actually getting a tan. I find myself very distracted at the sight of her like this.

 

Wildfire

Winter must occupy my daily mission. Today is the garden, hilling the potatoes so they do not go green. That would be a waste of those potatoes. Weeding and at least splitting wood.

Life after whatever happened is simple but not easy. It’s hard work. I would imagine that there had to have been quite a few that survived the die off, died on that first winter due to not being prepared. I still remember a few that died the next fall.

That reminds me, I need to paint the bone box again. Another thing to do.

As I am working, I smell a hint of smoke in the air. The worry is that it is not the smell of their smoke shed but a fire somewhere. I have Sandra call George and ask if they are smoking. She tells me that they are not. We need to go there.

I tell the group that it is time to take action. “That smoke smell may come from far away but it does belie the fact that this site needs to be cut back at least one hundred feet, better yet, at least two hundred feet from the cabins. You have already lost one homestead to fire. If this is near, we need to do this now. All of you will shelter in the tunnel but we really need to do this now.”

There is no objection to cutting. Even if there is no fire near, the trees can be used for firewood. The large tractor is put into use. Right now is cut down and drag those trees away from the cabins. I can tell that they really did not want to do it but they needed to cut them down.

That took a full days work but they are now in a safe zone. We have cleared over two hundred feet of brush and trees. The trees are now being trimmed and those branches are dragged off to the other side of the stream. It was one of the residents that suggested that the trunks be used as a form of barrier around the site.

It turns out that we do not have the time for that. At the top of the hill, we can see the glow of the fire on the other side. We have a few people go to see what is happening while Sandra has the others pack up what they cannot afford to lose. That will be taken to the tunnel for safe keeping as will the people. That is a safety matter. No discussion is allowed.

I join the few that will stay here. We should be able to put out any stray pop up’s due to embers. Being good scavengers, we had found Indian tanks and were using them for watering the gardens. Now we have anything that can hold water here in the village. All are full and ready. Even in the tunnel, I had a few of the metal tubs that Sandra and I would bring out on a summer day and soak until we became prunes.

The village had a large number of them being used as bath tubs. All were large enough to hold more than one hundred gallons. We have plenty to be able to refill.

The scouts came back with the news but we did not really need the report. We can see that the fire has now crested the hill. It would be only a short time until it was here. With all the people evacuated, we can now give our full attention to the fire.

Ladders were in place. Tubs were filled and our back pack water tanks were filled. We are as ready as we can be. Over the radio we hear Sandra telling us that everyone if now in the closed sanctuary.

“Please be safe. If the fire is too intense, run here. My husband, we can rebuild but I can never replace you.” I tell her that the fire is coming from the direction away from the roads to our home. “We will use our best judgement but we have cut the burnable far enough away. We only need to worry about the heat.”

Then it hit me, we dragged the cut limbs away in that direction. We have those Indian tanks, I tell the people here, “We need to set fire to those limbs and brush we cleared. A controlled back fire. The leaf litter and such will burn and create a starved area. This way the fire will need to go around the cabins or die out.”

With no time to lose, we go into the forest and burn. We had dragged the brush to the other side of the stream so that is where we started a burn. Anything that popped up on the cabin side of the stream was put out. It was working. There was one person that stayed in the cabin area to protect that from the stray embers.

Soon our fire was clearing an extremely large area. This back fire was going in the right direction. As it burned, we were sweeping the smoldering ash in the direction towards the wildfire. A few were wetting down the area we swept. Now, instead of what we cut as a fire break, our back fire has gone towards the wild fire for another couple of hundred feet.

We pulled back and just walked to put out embers. Anywhere there was a trace of smoke in the burned area, we soaked until there was just water vapors. Now it was the make or break point.

The wild fire was almost to the back fire. When the two met, it was a sight to see. They both consumed each other. The wildfire was not wide enough to go around. Our burn area was more than enough to deprive it from fuel. Refilling from the stream, we now approached the ends of both and were able to stop the burn.

It was almost dawn of the next day. We had been going for almost a full day when we put out the last smoldering areas. The village was saved. Each one of us trudged back

to the cabins. Each one of us climbed into those unused now warm water tubs and just soaked. Clothes and all, we did not care.

I called Sandra. “We are all safe. The danger is over and we are all hungry. Please make something for us but we have had enough of campfires. Bring some of that N A beer.”

Soon there were all that were in the shelter coming back with food for all of us. George could not stop his mouth when he saw Sandra. “We are cleaning ourselves up. You can come near.”

She walked up to her brother and held him under water for a short period. When she let him up, she threw a bar of soap at him. “Now you can clean both yourself and your clothes. I will not let you near Ella and junior until I judge you clean.”

Then she walks over to the tub that I am in and joins me in the tub. Everyone was stopped in their tracks and just looked at her. There, floating on the surface of the water, was ash and the dirty water was gray from the soot. I got the longest kiss that I have had in a long while during the day time. When she stopped, all she said was thank you.

We ate and it was remarked that the stream stopped the fire. It was corrected by another to Sandra. “Your husband fought fire with fire. We burned all that cut brush and limbs and starved the wildfire. That fire went out by itself far from our homes.”

I got out of the tub, dripping wet and we walked to the point where both fires met. All were amazed that it was well away from the stream. I saw a little puff of smoke and stood over it and just dripped on it until there was no smoke.

“There will need to be people walking the burned areas with the back pack water tanks looking for these small smokers. They could cause a flareup. Mind you, it will not put the village in danger but who wants to see anymore fire.”

It took the better part of a week to go over the fire area on this side of the hill.

Unfortunately, on the other side, we did find that there were some dead people. It appears that they must have been asleep in their tents. Their fire was not properly ringed and the area cleared. You could see the burn pattern. They must have died in their sleep from smoke inhalation. Then the tents went up. We left them where they were.

All this was a somber reminder of the fact that we must not become complacent. Each year we clean up the leaf litter around both sites as a precaution but we do make sure that the brush, leaf litter and such are a safe distance away for use of a back burn.

A side note, the burned areas are very green from the ash. We have used that area to grow some vegetables. The now rich soil produced a lot of things for canning and drying.

Again, the primary purpose for the brush and leaf litter is to be staged for potential back fires. We do want to use a lot of it on the gardens in the fall after seeing how well those burn area gardens did in a short period of time. Controlled burn then plow under for spring planting. Actually, we are relearning what they did before our modern times.

Discovering these things is actually fun.

 

Confrontation

Towards the end of fall, I was passing the monitors. They are still on but we very often do not pay attention to them. This time however, people caught my attention. Strangers were at the back of the tunnel. They were climbing the rocks. I had moved the cameras to other locations since the first time.

I have Sandra call the village to alert them while I went to the main gun port. It is so clean for some reason. I almost want to put on gloves but I wrangle in my loose thoughts. I hear the other ports being manned. Now is the time.

I use the speaker, “What the hell are you doing on my land?”

They were startled but arrogant. “This is nobody’s land. We are going to blast open the tunnel and we are going to live here.”

“Like hell you are. I have lived here since before this went down. Right of possession. I give you one last chance to leave.” I have the ports on each side of me fire one shot in the air but with their pistols. Then I fire one round.

“We own both sides of Skeleton Road. It is called that because the ones to challenge us end up dead and posed on the road. Last chance. Those shots were only our side arms.

What will be used against you is far more lethal.”

Their response was to climb down the face but suddenly some more come out of the brush and they each have a bundle of what can only be dynamite. The fuses are lit, they are going to blow us up. I start to fire the fifty caliber machine gun and the others do the same. All were dead and those bombs took care of any that may have been only wounded.

Now the concern was for the village.

By now the village is alerted. The scavenging has made them fully armed. They are an army in itself. We had cleared away the brush and any invader that comes into the range will be dead. Now the four of us leave the sealed tunnel and head to the village.

We radioed ahead to tell them to be alert.

We slowly crept up. The radio told us that they see some movement in the brush.

Knowing the fire clearance, we had time.

We were hunting. Any good hunter will have on their orange hunting vest. That would not be expected this day and age. No one in their right mind would do that so it is easily forgotten. We on the other hand did not want to get shot by friendly fire.

Those that were creeping up on the village are careful to wear muted colors. If only they bathed as often as we do. They stink, so the wind is giving them away. One starts to fire. Soon it is a full battle but we are stalking each. There are at least ten of them. With all the firing, single shots are not heard by them.

It was only noticed when the firing from the village has stopped and there was only one position, one lone person firing. It did not take long for that one to notice he was all alone especially when he felt the touch of a warm rifle barrel on the back of his neck.

Then the sharp pain of the butt hitting him in the head.

Next scene he is looking at is the inside of the long house. He is tied to a chair.

Picture the scene. You were knocked out and wake to the sight of people sitting backwards on chairs with their arms folded over what is the back of the chair. looking at you, you realize that it is your oh shit moment. The one that was knocked out was actually the one that was the leader of both sets of attackers.

Thinking back, I had already accounted all the people I let in to the sanctuary when I killed them but there were more with them. Who were they?

Time to bluff, “So, why did it take you these many years to attempt to retake this tunnel?

Were those I killed friends or maybe relatives? Did it take you all this time to gather the arms and people? To know about the village, you must have scouted us. Don’t tell me, you found us and tried to scare us off with the fire. You killed those campers and set the wildfire.”

He is getting very angry, then he bursts. “You bastard! It took me all that winter to find my family. When we could not open that armory, we knew that we needed to flee. We took that summer to gather people that were interested in your place. You shot and killed my family.”

He went on about it was not right that I live and they died. I had had enough. I get up, walk over to him and place my pistol to his head.

“Bold talk, how many more are out there waiting?”

He does not answer. I walk over to the wall and pick up the splitting axe that was there.

It comes slamming down and now both his big toe and part of the next is separated from his foot. I again walk over to the conveniently burning fireplace, grab the iron that was in it and cauterized the wound.

The pain now is setting in.

“How many more are out there waiting? Still stoic I see.”

Now the rest of those toes on that foot are cut off. The same thing, slap a glowing hot iron to staunch the bleeding.

“How many more are out there waiting?” and now I place that legs calf on a wood block.

This time he does talk. He tells us that there is a dozen more waiting for the signal to come in. “They were instructed not to come in until they heard the signal.” He smiles at me and says that they were going to blow up the tunnel if they did not hear the signal.

“Oh, those ones. We killed them already. It seems that they jumped the gun so to speak.

They are all dead.”

I walk over to Sandra and have her take a few to the gun ports just in case. I tell him that they are going to get the back hoe. “We need to dig a hole to throw the dead in until they decompose. Then the bones will join those in the box.”

I look to George, “That reminds me, I need to paint the box before winter.”

We now hear firing and this one starts to smile but there is no explosion. Sandra calls us and says that there were more that were trying to blow up the tunnel. All are dead.

“On your way back, you need to go to the far side with a few of the people. You may need to go hunting. By the way that explosive is just lying there. Take that also.”

Now he thinks that we are going to kill him. Not just yet, we may need a meat shield. He is loaded in the back of the pickup. With the gun ports manned, I only need one to help me get the shield off the back of the pickup.

Cautiously we approach the area. I am having the one that was with me drive while I was in the back with my shield. We get to the area and he starts yelling to shoot. “There is only the driver and their leader. Kill them both!”

I push his dead carcass off the end of the pickup. There were no shots fired with the exception of the one I fired in his head. It is said that a 22 round does not kill but it often is the up close and personal weapon of choice. It penetrates one side of the skull and just sort of rattles around in the skull until the energy is spent. I always carry one to put down an animal that did not die from my initial shot but is incapacitated.

I decided that I again would put a few on the rocks propped up with a hand raised as to be waving. The leader and two others got the honor. The remainder were just left. The dynamite was collected. Really, C4 would be more appropriate.

 

A new dawn

That was the last time that we were attacked. Yes, in the spring, the bones were added to the box. I did paint it. We have been approached by some others to be able to settle in our area. They had to meet with both camps because we are one. They only are allowed to meet after the obvious first sign. The white flag and wait.

We were happy when one group wanted to be able to make their homes on the naturally caved in side of the tunnel. That group waited at the bone box with their white flag. They honked their horn several times. Sandra and I were called to the village to meet with them in the long house.

After consideration of their request, we told them that they could settle in that area but with this proviso, “Know this, there are cameras over there. We will be watching you.

We have had people trying to explode that side to clear the tunnel. Don’t try to deceive us, I’ve seen it all. Killed two groups but that was only after they attacked.

That is your area. You will have a radio. If there is any danger that you spot call and we will be there. You will come across human bones. Just collect them and call. One of us will be by to pick them up.”

We, as a community, help the new ones build and clear a fire area Those ones go on to be just as welcome as the cabin side is. Although Sandra reminds me that I am hers and hers alone. She seems like her mind is a little off center. She must be remembering how we met and feels that this new group may offer. She fails to remember that she was the one that took over my life. I really do not need anyone else.

After a while, that group settles in. We now feel that we can trust them so I go over to that side and they help me move those cameras further out. After all, those are for early detection of intruders. Those are now at Skeleton Road Extension.

The human bones were not brough over to the original box because there now needed to be a warning on that side road. That sides bone box had a sign stating that both sides of the road is our land. Squatters will not be tolerated. All that want to settle, be under a white flag.

No one has approached, no one has been seen on the cameras. We will still watch.

After all, this is seen as our center, our capital of sorts. Everyone knows to wipe their feet before entering. Sandra is becoming very testy about that.

I find that Sandra is very irritated of late, she is tired of feeling sick when she wakes. I decide that it is time to take her to the village to have their women look at her. I just smile, she has not even had a thought of what it could be.

Authors notes:

As you can tell, I do like to have cave like hides to be able to become a sanctuary. Right now, I wish I had one in real life. Events in this spring of 2026 have shaken me. I am only getting back to writing in June 2026. You see, once again free-ebooks.net has stalled. It happened in 2025 also so I have to wait.

The reason I have not written since the end of April, I have been waiting on a disposition of a case I filed with Kindle. That case involves my book “Welcome to my world” It seems that one of the people that downloaded a free copy, cut my cover and copyright page off and published it on Kindle.

I have submitted all the proof that I am D.A.Sanford not whoever did a copyright infringement. I have asked that it be pulled down. Whoever did it also claimed my author name D.A.Sanford. That one left that as the author’s name.

I submit for the enjoyment of all for free. That does not entitle someone to steal someone’s work. Someone’s thoughts.

For the one that did this, check my books and you will see most talk about the Supreme Creator. I may not find out who but know this God knows and I leave you in his hands. I do feel sorry for you. You have gained notice.

 

Daniel Sanford aka D.A.Sanford June 9 2026.