Bug Out! Part 7: Mile High Motorhomes

by Robert Boren

  “What happened?”

  “Not sure, exactly. Your great granddad ended up selling his land to those folks, and he and your great grandma left town. They never came back.”

  “My grandpa came back, though,” Dobie said.

  “Yeah, he and my grandpa had a store in town for a while. Then he retired, and my grandpa and dad built the RV Park. I think your grandpa was kind of a silent partner originally. When he moved back into this area, he brought a fair amount of money with him.”

  “Interesting. I’ll have to look into this someday.”

  “I’ll never leave this place. Too much family history here.”

  Dobie looked over at him and nodded, but was thinking how difficult it was going to be to get Gabe out of harm’s way if the worst happened.

  The road narrowed and started to climb back into the hills. There was another series of switchbacks, causing Gabe to slow way down. He continued to keep an eye on the bobtail in his mirror as it lumbered along behind them. Then the road turned to dirt and went alongside a creek.

  “This your creek?” Dobie asked.

  “Sure is. This route isn’t usable in either the winter or early spring.”

  “You own this land, don’t you?”

  “Yep, but it’s not good for much,” Dobie said, laughing. “I’ve got a gate coming up that I’ll have to unlock. Keeps folks from driving down here from the highway.”

  They went down the straight part of the road for a few more miles, only making about twenty miles per hour. Then there were a few more switchbacks, on dirt road too thin for more than one car to pass at a time.

  “Hope this isn’t too scary for Jake,” Dobie said.

  “He’s good at driving that bobtail. Don’t worry about it…we’re almost through it anyway. Look, there’s my gate up ahead.”

  The gate was made of tube steel, painted yellow. Gabe pulled right up to it and got out of the Suburban. He unlocked the padlock, and then pushed the gate open on its hinge. Then he got back into the Suburban and drove down far enough that the truck could get past the gate too. He and Dobie got out and walked towards the truck.

  “Damn, Gabe, never been through this section,” Jake said, through the open window. “I was getting a little nervous on those dirt switchbacks.”

  “I knew you could make it.”

  “This your land?”

  “Yep, been in the family since my granddad’s time.”

  “Pretty back here, that’s for sure.”

  “I’m going to close the gate after us. We’re almost home.”

  “Good,” Jake said. “That was a hard drive. I’ll be glad to park this damn thing.”

  Gabe and Dobie walked behind the truck and saw the bullet holes. They were low on the passenger side.

  “Son of a bitch,” Dobie said. “Another few inches and they would have hit the rear tires on that side.”

  “Yes, I’d say luck was with us today,” Gabe said. He started to push the gate back into place across the road. Then he stopped and listened. “You hear that?”

  Dobie walked over next to him, cupped his ears with his hands and faced back down the road. He heard some kind of vehicle coming slowly up the road, but he couldn’t see it.

  “Shoot,” Dobie said. “We got followed.” The two men ran up to the cab of the truck.

  “We got followed,” Gabe said. “I’ll lead the way to the park. Terry, stay here with Dobie, and wait for those folks. I’ll send Jeb and Charlie and Kurt and the Sheriff here with their rifles…they should be back here in about ten minutes.”

  Terry jumped out and checked his rifle and his handgun. Dobie ran back to the Suburban and grabbed his rifle. He let Duchess out of the car, as Gabe jumped behind the wheel.

  “You’d better not get hurt,” Trish said to Terry. She looked scared. Terry smiled at her and nodded.

  “Go!” Dobie said. Gabe took off, and the bobtail followed, going as fast as they could on the dirt road. Terry walked up to Dobie.

  “We need a good position to fire from,” Terry said.

  “Yeah, look over there,” Dobie said, pointing to a clump of trees close to the creek on the right side of the road.

  “C’mon,” Terry said. “That’ll work.” They quickly slid down the side of the road and next to the creek bed, then climbed up into the trees far enough to see the road. Duchess stayed on the ground next to the tree, looking around, her ears perked up.

  “Think they’re still coming?” Terry asked.

  “Yeah,” Dobie whispered, scanning the road. “They’re back in the worst part of those switchbacks. I’m surprised we didn’t see them.”

  “They must have stopped,” Terry said.

  “I hope they didn’t get out on foot.”

  They watched silently. No movement. No vehicle noise.

  “There isn’t a way they can get around us, is there?” Terry asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Listen. Rocks sliding,” Terry whispered.

  “I hear it.”

  Suddenly Dobie’s phone rang. He struggled to get into his pocket to shut it off. Then a shot rang out, hitting the dirt about 30 yards in front of them.

  “Shit, forgot to turn that off. Better check yours,” Dobie whispered. “You see where that shot came from?”

  “Yeah, it came from that ridge. Looks like they decided to climb over the top of the switchback area.”

  “Can you see anybody?”

  “No, they’ve got their heads down again, or else I would have shot at them.”

  “Hold your fire for now. I’m going to call Gabe back.” He pulled out his phone and pushed the callback button. “Gabe,” he whispered.

  “Yeah, sorry about the ring. Thought of that right after I hit the call button.”

  “It’s alright, it got them to fire a shot at us. We know where they are. They came up over the ridge from where the switchbacks were.”

  “The guys are coming in Jeb’s jeep. I sent some dynamite with them. We’ve also got Jackson and Earl going up on the big ridge next to the park. They’ll be able to see everything from there. After you guys kill these creeps, we’ll blow the thin part of the road where the switchbacks are.”

  “Sure you want to do that? Might be a good escape route in a pinch.”

  “It’s a death trap, Dobie. I wouldn’t have led us back that way if I knew we were being followed. Perfect place to get ambushed. Talk to you later. Be careful.”

  Dobie put his phone back in his pocket.

  “Listen,” Terry said. “Vehicle creeping up behind us.”

  “Should be your uncle and the other sharp shooters,” Dobie said.

  Jeb’s jeep pulled to a stop about fifty yards behind the clump of trees. The men quietly got out. Duchess growled softly.

  “Duchess, its friends,” Dobie whispered at her.

  “One of them has his head up. I think I can get him. Should I take the shot?”

  “Yeah, Terry, take it.”

  He fired, and the Islamist’s head exploded. There was some shouting in Arabic, and some shots came from the ridge again. Another one got up far enough to see what he was shooting at, and then a rifle went off from behind and to the right. It hit the Islamist in the neck, and he fell down the front of the ridge. Dobie looked back in time to see the Sheriff work the bolt on his rifle to chamber another round. He looked at Dobie and Terry and nodded.

  “That’s two,” Terry said. “How many more, I wonder?”

  Duchess growled again, but then stopped. Jeb was making his way down the creek, carrying his rifle, with his bow on his back. Kurt followed him, about twenty yards behind. The Sheriff climbed up in the trees next to them.

  “You ever see their vehicle?” he asked.

  “No,” Dobie whispered. “They stopped in those switchbacks and got up on the ridge.”

  “Bad choice for them. Jackson and Earl are climbing up the mountain behind us. That’s the one that borders the park on the other side of the meadow. It’s a good
vantage point.”

  “What are Jeb and Kurt going to do?” Terry asked.

  “They’re gonna try to get behind their vehicle and blow the road,” he replied. “By the way, I heard what you did back there. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks, uncle,” Terry said, looking a little embarrassed.

  “Nice girl, too,” he said, grinning. “She’s beside herself with worry. I think you made a good impression.”

  “You guys need to quit teasing her. You’ll ruin my chances,” he whispered.

  “Oh, so you do like her, eh?” he said, chuckling.

  Suddenly there was another shot in their direction. A bullet ripped through branches about twenty yards to their left, sending splinters flying. Then there were two shots coming from the high ridge. One Islamist was hit square in the face, and another one dived down, but didn’t get under cover. A third shot hit him in the back, and he rolled down the mountainside.

  “Jackson and Earl,” the Sheriff whispered. “How many is that?”

  “Four,” Dobie said. “I’m thinking maybe I ought to get out of this tree and sneak behind Jeb and Kurt, with Duchess.” He climbed down as quietly as he could. “Cover me.”

  “What about your rifle?” the Sheriff asked, seeing Dobie set it down next to the tree.

  “I’m better with the handgun,” he whispered. “C’mon, girl.” Duchess followed him.

  “I’m not hearing anything anymore, uncle. Maybe that was all of them.”

  “Could have been,” he said. “Jeb and Kurt should be just about in position by now. They’ll find out.”

  Kurt was still following Jeb down the creek bed. They were out of sight of the others now, around the bend. Jeb turned around and put his finger to his lips. Then he pointed up to the road. There was a pickup truck sitting up on the road. A young-looking Islamist was guarding it, looking around, AK-47 in hand. Jeb snuck up the bank. He quietly put down his rifle and pulled his bow off of his shoulder. He crawled along the ground with it, seeing some bushes about twenty yards away. He looked back at Kurt, and then pointed at the bushes. Kurt nodded. Then Jeb got up and ran quickly in a crouching position. A shot rang out, startling the young Islamist guarding the truck. Jeb turned and saw Kurt holding his stomach. He turned and fired an arrow, hitting the Islamist guard in the chest. He gurgled, clutching himself there, and fell, his AK flying over the edge of the cliff. Then another shot rang out. Jeb dived behind the bushes, and then heard the snarl of a dog. He peeked out from the bushes to see Duchess charging an Islamist, who was in a panic trying to get a bead on the dog with his AK. Dobie ran over and let loose several shots from his handgun, hitting the Islamist in the chest and head, sending him to the ground. There was silence. Jeb got up and trotted over to Dobie.

  “Kurt’s been gut shot. We’ve got to get him back to camp pronto! I’m gonna go get the jeep over here.”

  Dobie nodded, looking around, trying to watch for other folks.

  The Sheriff and Terry ran over, seeing Kurt lying next to the creek, holding himself. They dived down next to him.

  “Stay calm, Kurt,” the Sheriff said. “Jeb’s bringing his jeep over here. We’ll get you back to Mary in a few minutes.”

  Dobie ran up the side of the cliff and checked the guard. He was dead. He searched the truck. The keys were in it. He pulled them out of the ignition and put them in his pocket, and then searched the rest of the vehicle, finding a Ziploc bag with registration and other documents. He stuffed it into his back pocket and kept searching. Jeb had the jeep down next to Kurt when Dobie turned back around. He saw Terry and the Sheriff lift Kurt into the back. Then Jeb looked at him and shouted.

  “Lay low here and watch until I get back. We need to check for tracks behind that truck, to make sure nobody else was with them.”

  “Okay,” Dobie shouted back.

  Jeb drove the jeep back out of the area and disappeared. Dobie tried to stay out of sight as best he could. Duchess trotted over to him and sat down against his legs, looking around, listening. There was an eerie quiet in the area now, and it made him nervous. He heard some rocks fall, and looked in that direction. It was Jackson and Earl, standing on the high ridge, looking around the area with binoculars. Dobie waved at them. They gave him the thumbs up sign. Must not be anybody else in the area, he thought to himself. He made a mental note of where the bodies fell. Two behind the small ridge above him. He looked up at it. Not too bad of a climb. Two more fell forward on the ridge, and down the side of the mountain a ways. That’s four. Then there was the kid here, and the guy below him that shot Kurt. Six total. That’s about right, he thought, looking back at the truck. Four in back, two in the cab.

  The jeep came back down the road, Jeb driving it down to where they had picked up Kurt. Jerry, the Sheriff, and Terry were with him. He looked up and saw Jackson and Earl still sitting up on the ridge, keeping watch. He trotted down to the jeep as the men were getting out.

  “Kurt?” he asked.

  “Mary thinks he’s going to survive, but it’ll be a tough recovery. These guys are still using surplus hardball ammo. No expansion. He was lucky. A hunting round would have torn his guts apart.”

  “Good,” Dobie said. “I made a mental inventory of where all the enemy fighters fell.”

  “Yeah, we need to cut the chips out of those guys pronto,” Jerry said. “Might already be too late.”

  “Got another lead box, eh,” Dobie said looking at Jerry holding it.

  “Yeah, Gabe made one the other day. Good thinking,” he said.

  “Jerry, let’s go see if anybody else came with our friends,” Jeb said. He nodded and they started up the hill to the road. Jerry had a backpack on. You could see the detonator plunger handle sticking out of one side.

  “Want to help me operate?” Terry asked. “Mary showed us how.”

  “Sure,” Dobie said. They went to each of the bodies, cutting out the chips and putting them into the box. The two on the far side of the ridge were difficult…Dobie couldn’t make it up there, so Terry took care of those. Duchess followed them around, her eyes and ears perked up the entire time.

  “Fire in the hole!” shouted Jeb. Then there was an explosion, sending a dirt cloud flying into the air. Jeb and Jerry came walking around the curve. When they got to the truck, Jeb pulled out his bowie knife and cut all four tires. Then they joined Terry and Dobie at the jeep.

  “Any other tracks?” Dobie asked.

  “Nope,” Jeb said.

  “Good.”

  “How did you guys get followed?” Jerry asked.

  “Good question. We had a hard time getting out of town. Did you see the bullet holes in the back of that bobtail?”

  “No, didn’t have time,” Jerry said. “The signal generator wasn’t hit, I hope.”

  “That was in the SUV with us,” Dobie said.

  “What happened?” Jeb asked.

  “We were on that street that borders I-70 when we saw a bunch of Islamists climbing down the side of the road bed. They saw the truck and tried to stop it. They probably wanted it for transport.”

  “You didn’t see what vehicle they came in? Was it that truck?”

  “Couldn’t see. They were on foot when we saw them…hey, just a sec. I’ve got the registration from the truck.” He pulled the plastic bag out of his back pocket and took out the registration card. “Crap, this belongs to Chet Robertson. I know him. I’ll bet those cretins car-jacked him after we got away. Hope they didn’t kill him.”

  Chapter 07 – Watch That Ridge

  Dobie was still back by the creek with Terry, Jeb, and Jerry.

  “What should we do with the bodies?” Terry asked.

  “Maybe we should bring them down on the sand here and burn them,” Jerry said.

  “That’ll make a lot of smoke. Maybe we should bring the backhoe here,” Jeb said.

  “I wouldn’t do that until we get an alternate way to work the drawbridge set up,” Jerry said.

  “Oh, yeah, good point,” Jeb sai
d. “We could load them into the back of the jeep, I suppose.”

  “Maybe we should have taken that truck instead of knifing the tires,” Terry said.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Jerry said.

  “That reminds me, I’d better call Bob and let him know about Chet Robertson,” Dobie said. He pulled out his phone and dialed.

  “Bob?”

  “Yeah, Dobie. You guys made it out of town okay, I take it?”

  “Yep, but we were followed by six cretins. We just killed all of them.”

  “No, really?”

  “Yeah,” Dobie said. “They were in Jack Robertson’s pickup.”

  There was silence on the line for a moment.

  “You there?” Dobie asked.

  “Yeah, sorry. We found Jack by the side of the road, with his throat cut ear to ear.”

  “Oh, no, I was afraid of that. Did the others show up in town yet?”

  “Nope, Dobie. We’ve been looking for them.”

  “Not good.”

  “I know,” Bob said. “Gotta go, here comes the chief.”

  “Okay, take care of yourself, Bob.”

  “You do the same.”

  Dobie put his phone back in his pocket.

  “Who’s Bob?” Jeb asked.

  “Old friend,” Dobie said. “He was working as a reserve police officer when we hit town. We saw him manning a barricade on an I-70 off-ramp.”

  “Ah, so they’re having the same thoughts we are about this area,” Jeb said. “Good.”

  “Back to the bodies,” Jerry said. “Doesn’t Gabe have an old beater truck back at camp?” Maybe we ought to go get it. No sense having these creeps bleed all over Jeb’s jeep.”

  “Good idea,” Jeb said. “I’ll take the jeep back and bring the truck over here.”

  “Okay, and we’ll drag all the bodies into a pile while we’re waiting for you,” Dobie said

  Jeb nodded, walked over to his jeep, and drove away. The men started to round up the bodies. They got them all moved in about ten minutes. Jeb and Gabe rolled up in the truck and parked it by the pile. They got out and walked over.

  “Looks like Jackson and Earl are still up there on the ridge,” Jerry said, nodding up at the ridge. “Think they see something?”