The American Terrorist: The Revenge Continues

by Ron L. Carter

  Chapter Seventeen

  On his drive back to Visalia, the closer he got, the more Doug starting feeling a little homesick. He was thinking about the great life he used to have with his family before everything went crazy for him. Now the only family he had left was his brother Randy, his wife and kids. At one point he felt very close to Randy's kids, but he believed after what he'd done, they probably didn't even want to claim to anyone that they were related to him.

  When he arrived in Visalia he got a hotel room off of highway 198 west of town, and stayed there for the night. While lying in bed, he was thinking it would be really satisfying if he could get up close to Randy just for a minute and see if he looked the same. The next morning he got up early and went to Randy's house. He waited in his car down the street until Randy left the house alone. Doug followed him to a nearby coffee shop and waited in his car as he went inside. Randy ordered a coffee and then sat at one of the tables and started reading the local newspaper.

  Doug wanted to see if Randy might be able to recognize him, even if he did have long hair, a long beard and his facial appearance had been altered. He went inside and ordered a coffee and sat down at a table facing not too far away from him. A few times he glanced up from his newspaper and looked right at Doug, but he didn't seem to recognize him. At one point he took an extra long stare at Doug and he thought that maybe he might have seen something in him that looked familiar. He still didn't say anything and quickly turned his head away when he saw Doug staring back at him.

  For just a brief and weak moment Doug wondered if he should walk up to Randy and let him know that it was him. The temptation was almost too much for him to bear, so he quickly got up and walked out the door. It was very emotional for him and he had tears in his eyes as he made his way back to his car and got in. Once inside, he had to sit there for several minutes just trying to compose himself. Randy was the first family member Doug had seen since he'd left on his killing spree, for what now seemed like years ago. He didn't realize how hard it would be for him to see Randy in person. He said, "Okay Doug, you saw him, now just leave it alone. You don't need to create any problems for your own brother. He doesn't need to know your alive, it would just complicate his life." What he was saying to himself shocked him back to reality and he regained his composure.

  While he was sitting in the car thinking about Randy and his family, it gave him an idea about where he could hide for awhile. He knew that Randy hardly ever used the house he owned up in the mountains at Pinehurst. He knew where he kept the hide-a-key and the house was fully furnished. Randy always kept the utilities turned on just in case he decided to go up and spend the night there on the spur of the moment. Doug thought it would make a perfect hiding place until he could figure something else out.

  It was located in the woods and it had a private gate that led down a narrow paved road about seventy five yards to the quaint two story house. There were shrubs and trees on both sides of the little paved road, so you couldn't see the house from the main road. It was totally hidden away from traffic and neighbors. The nearest neighbors were over a half mile away. It also had a detached garage that was away from the house, where he could keep the car hidden.

  When Doug left the coffee shop he headed back to the hotel and checked out. Now he had a plan of where he was going to stay. He stopped at Wall-mart on his way out of town and got some things he thought he might need. He then headed east on highway 198 for several miles and then took highway 245 north and through Woodlake Junction. From there, he hit the foothills and the long sweeping turns in the road until it started getting the hair pin curves. In the middle of nowhere and half way up to Pinehurst is the Mountain House bar that a lot of locals frequent for lunch and happy hour. The road forks and one of them keeps twisting and turning its way up from there to a place called Pinehurst Lodge. It has a bar and several tables and they also serve food there on most days. Once he reached that point, he knew exactly where the house was located.

  When he arrived at the property gate, Doug took his time and slowly unchained it and swung the gate open. Once he drove through, he stopped and got out, closed and chained the gate behind him. He then proceeded slowly, looking to see if anyone might be around. Everything looked pretty quiet and empty and he didn't see any other cars or anyone else around. Once he was convinced that he was alone, he parked his car and went to the area where Randy kept the hidden key. It was still in the same place so Doug took it and went to the front door. He unlocked it, swung it wide open in front of him and just stood there for a minute. He cautiously looked around inside the empty house and everything looked the same as it did several years earlier when he'd been there with Randy.

  One thing that was different about the place was that Randy had built a huge Redwood deck around half the house. Doug knew that sitting out there on the deck would be relaxing and give him a great view of the canyons down towards Fresno. All the bedrooms were upstairs, but the living area, and the kitchen were downstairs. It had a huge rock fireplace in the middle of the living room with windows on both sides that also faced out to the west. He looked around and said, "Now this is more like home to me, it's perfect. I'll hide out here for as long as I can get away with it, or until I figure out some other place to go."

  Doug got his things out of the car and parked it in the enclosed garage. He went back inside and spent time getting comfortable with the house. He picked out a bedroom he felt would work for him that had its own bathroom and shower. He put his things away and then went outside to get familiar and comfortable with the outside surroundings. He spent a few hours just walking around on the outside of the property and checking out the fenced in boundaries. He could tell that nobody had been to the house in quite a while by the way things looked. He went into the kitchen and turned on the faucet to the sink and let it run for several minutes to get the rust out of the pipe lines. He scrubbed the rust off of the toilet bowls and dusted the furniture.

  The next evening, Doug figured if he was going to stay in the area for a while, he needed to look like a clean cut retired man that had just come up to the area to relax and enjoy the good life, not some old hippie or Muslim looking man. He decided to cut his hair and shave off his beard. Before he settled down for the night he found a pair of scissors and began to cut away at the long shaggy hair that had taken him so long to grow. He cut it to his ears and then trimmed it up until he looked like the retired doctor he once was. He cut away at the beard until it was at the length where he could use a razor on it the rest of the way. After he was clean cut and clean shaven, he rubbed his face and said, "Wow! I haven't seen that face for a long time. You look pretty handsome, Doug. Even if I have to say it myself."

  For the next few weeks Doug spent time in and around the house. He cleaned the grounds of weeds around the outside of the house, and fixed everything on the inside of the house that were broken. He was enjoying being there. It made him feel like he was home again and working on his own place. At night he would get a glass of wine and sit out on the big deck. He stared down the canyons toward Fresno and let his mind drift back to better times, times when he was happy with Shirley, Jenifer and Michael. He tried not to get angry when he thought about Michael. He knew the radical terrorist were still out there, but he had to put them out of his mind while he was living the secluded life up there in the mountains.

  After Doug had been there about three weeks he had the place looking really nice and clean in and around the property. One morning he decided he would go over to Pinehurst Lodge and see if he could talk to someone and find out if he could get a little work that he could do. He knew that what little money he had wouldn't last him forever and he needed something to do with his time. He was also now starting to get a little bored just sitting around most of the day and not doing anything now that he had the place in pretty good shape.

  At the Lodge he cautiously opened the door and walked in, the pl
ace was empty except for a woman cleaning one of the tables. He was immediately greeted by her. She looked to be in her mid to late fifties. She smiled at Doug, "Hi stranger! Come on in, just sit wherever you'd like. I'll be right with you in a minute." Doug thanked her and walked over to one of the little tables, pulled out a chair, and sat down. After she was through cleaning the table, she went over to Doug and handed him a piece of paper with a list of specials of the day, "Would you like something to drink?" Doug said, "Sure, how about a cup of black coffee, sugar, but no cream." She then asked him if he wanted breakfast or lunch. Without Doug saying anything she said, "I can fix you whatever you'd like, just let me know and I'll put it together for you." Doug thought for a moment and then replied, "How about just a couple of eggs over medium, bacon, hash browns or potatoes and some toast?" She said, "I can do that, just give me a few minutes and I'll have it right out for you." Doug replied, "That sounds good to me."

  While he was waiting for her make his breakfast he went around on the inside of the old building and read the papers and information that was scattered on the walls. It told about all the history in and around that area. While he was walking around, he strolled over to where she was cooking and stood at a little window counter and watched. He said, "It looks like I may be staying up here in this area for a little while. My name is Mathew Parker." She looked up from what she was working on, "My name is Judy and I own the place." Doug looked around the room, "I can't believe all the history of this old building and this little town." She said, "Yeah, there is a lot of things that have happened in and around this old place, that's what I love about it. We still have a band that comes in occasionally and this place gets packed with people from all over the area. It's a lot of fun."

  Doug smiled and said, "I'm looking to do a little work while I'm staying up here, if you know anyone that needs something done around their place." Judy replied, "I'll ask around and see if anyone needs anything worked on. I do have a lady friend of mine that lives up the road and she's been wanting to get her fence around her property fixed for quite some time. She's just been putting it off because she didn't want to spend the money one it. She may be interested in hiring you, if you're not too expensive for her. I'll ask her and you can check back with me in a few days." Doug thanked her and went back to the table and sat down. He stared off into space as he wondered if he could really get used to living up there and not wanting to go after the terrorists and kill them.

  A few days later he went back to Pinehurst Lodge and talked to Judy about her friend. She gave him a piece of paper with her friend, Martha's phone number and address on it. She told Doug that she had talked to Martha about him and she was interested in talking to him about fixing her fence.

  Doug thanked Judy and when he left the restaurant, he immediately drove up the road to Martha's house. When he got there, he went up to the door and knocked. He was soon greeted by Martha and introduced himself as the guy that Judy had told her about that needed a little work. She was a woman in her seventies, with grey hair, and a little thick around the middle. He thought she looked just like the typical grandma that everyone thinks about when they think of their grandma. She was very talkative and a real nice lady. She and Doug soon became friends and she worked out a deal for him to fix the fence along her property lines. She owned 20 acres and the fence needed a lot of repairs in a lot of different locations. He thanked her for the work and started on the fence the next day. Every day, while he was working, Martha would bring him a bottle of water and stand and talk to him for quite a while. Sometimes it was just idol gossip, but Doug just listened to her while he worked.

  It had been about six weeks since Doug had blown up the terrorists in San Diego and the thought of getting more revenge for Michael was weighing heavy on his mind. While he was working on Martha's fence his mind would drift back to the good times with Michael. He started having those same familiar thoughts of anger that took over his rational thinking. He started thinking about the way Ragale Mohalid and his two friends had treated him the night they caught him in the bushes next to their apartment. His anger got the best of him so he decided he would take the three hour drive to Bakersfield and kill Mohalid and his two friends. As he thought about it he decided he was going to try to make it a one day attack. Go there, kill them, and then head back home.

  A few days later he threw the AK - 47 rifle and the extra ammo clips in the trunk of the car and left to find his targets. When he got to Bakersfield, he had it all planned out how he would go straight to apartment B-4 and see if he could catch the three men coming home from soccer practice once again. It was Wednesday night like the last time he was confronted by them after coming out of the bushes.

  Once there, he waited until after dark, took out the rifle and put a round in the chamber along with a full magazine clip of bullets. He slowly crept up to the apartment and took a look through the window to see if he could see anyone and after a few minutes confirmed they weren't home. He then snuck into the same hiding place where he'd hidden the last time he was there with just his baseball bat. Ironically, it was still lying where he threw it down. This time he had the AK - 47 and two full magazine clips with him.

  He waited patiently hoping the three men would be coming home from soccer practice once again. It was about ten thirty when he finally saw the three men together coming up the sidewalk toward their apartment. Not knowing that Doug was hiding in the bushes, they passed right by him and didn't see him. Just before they got to their front door, he stepped out of his hiding place and onto the sidewalk. He had the rifle pointed at them as he got their attention, "Hey fellas, remember me?" The three men quickly turned around and saw Doug aiming the gun right at them. "I bet right now you wished I was some old homeless guy, don't you? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not homeless, my name is Douglas Cotton, and I'm known by a lot of people as the "American Terrorist." I like to kill terrorists like you. You guys should've treated me better the last time you saw me." A couple of the men tried to talk but Doug just opened fire and emptied the full clip of bullets into the three of them. He quickly reloaded the rifle and put in another full magazine clip. Blood was splattered all over the apartment walls and sidewalk as he approached them and put another bullet in each of their heads. A young kid from next door opened his door to see what was going on and Doug told him to shut the door and mind his own business or he would kill him. He did exactly as Doug told him and quickly slammed the door.

  After the confrontation with the kid, he turned and started running for his car. By then, front porch lights starting coming on all over the apartment complex and people were coming out to see what was going on. One guy saw Doug running and yelled for him to stop. Doug turned and fired off a volley of bullets over his head. He really didn't want to have to stop and kill the guy, he just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

  Once inside his car, he got on interstate 5 and headed back up to the safety of Pinehurst. On the long drive back, he said to Michael, "Those guys should've treated me with a little more respect the last time they saw me Michael. They didn't have to treat me like some homeless person. One thing's for sure, they won't ever disrespect anyone else, ever again. Stupid terrorists."

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