Anthony Newman - American Survivor

He ate cold rabbit stew from the night before and readied his backpack for a three-day excursion to the east section of his property. The eastern half was the only part he had not explored thoroughly. He felt the women might be on his property, but the kidnappers had to have a place on one of the improved roads to the northeast of his property.

Joe struck out for the creek and quickly found the old tracks, which he followed north until he lost them, high on the ridge north of the stream. He stopped and pondered for a while and felt the women’s northerly trek had been an effort to lead people away from their camp. He then walked east only a few feet into the woods at the top of the ridge to pick up their tracks. The forests were overgrown with sticker bushes, vines, and small saplings making travel rough. He found a few fast food wrappers, coke cans, and soggy newspapers but no signs of the women.

He never found their tracks, but he did see the black Jeep that had sped out of town ahead of him on the day TSHTF. He knew they would have to be close by and slowly headed down the hillside barely able to keep his footing. He was in a controlled slide down the slope when his progress was stopped by an old pile of wood. He looked around and was surprised to see a small cabin in the woods ahead of him. He waited for fifteen minutes before moving closer. Then Bennie greeted him with a wagging tail and began licking Joe’s face.

“Hey, Bennie. This must be where the women are staying. Take me to your mistress.”

Joe followed Bennie up to the cabin from the rear, looked in the window, and saw the cabin was dark on the inside. He shined his flashlight onto the window and found himself staring into a bedroom with a woman asleep in the bed. He turned the flashlight off and turned to see a girl with a rifle pointed at his chest.

“Drop your guns asshole. I said drop them, or you’re going to have a big hole in your chest,” the young girl said forcefully.

Joe lowered his rifle to the ground and said, “I can explain. I’m…”

The girl interrupted, “A dead man if you don’t drop that pistol. Do it now, or I shoot. Don’t try anything because I have the trigger pulled on this 30.30 and I’m holding the hammer back with my thumb. I’m getting tired, and you’re about to die.”

Joe pulled the pistol from its holster with two fingers and laid it on the ground along with the rifle. He still had a Glock in his waistband and decided not to tell the girl about it unless forced to do so. He raised his hands and asked, “Why are you holding the gun on me. You are trespassing on my land and squatting in my cabin. I’m Joe Harp, and I own this entire hillside and the land for a half a mile in all directions. Please, put your gun down.”

The girl released the trigger and leaned the rifle against the cabin as she drew a Beretta and kept Joe covered, “Turn around and walk up on the porch. Now plop your ass down with your back to the wall and take your boots off.”

The girl had removed her shoestrings and ordered Joe to tie his right wrist to his lower leg. She visually checked the job before she picked up his pistol and stuck it in her belt.

“Joe replied, “I’m not going to harm you. Wake your mom up and let me talk to her.”

Bennie sat down beside Joe and tried to lick his face when the girl admonished him and pulled him away by his collar.

“Bennie, get away from him. He’s a terrorist,” the girl said.

“Look I just came to…”

“Shut up and speak when spoken to asshole. Why did you come to our cabin?”

“I already told you it’s my cabin. I came here to warn you about some people who kidnapped a friend of mine. You two women are alone up here and could be the kidnappers next victims, Joe stated.

The girl poked Joe in the ribs with the Beretta, “You are probably the kidnapper or working for those bastards. I should shoot you like I did the ones who shot my mom.”

“Whoa, girl. Has your mom been shot?”

“Yes, but you aren’t going to get close to her. I’ll kill you before you get close to her like those terrorists did,” Cloe said.

“Cloe, who is the man,” a voice behind Joe said in a weak voice.

The girl jumped to her feet and said, “Mom, be careful. This man could be one of those men from back at the ranch.

Joe awkwardly raised his head, and Cobie instantly recognized him from Cobb’s Outfitter’s store and said, “You’re the young man who inherited a bunch of money and land around Ashland. I saw you at Cobbs.”

“Your daughter isn’t impressed by my inheritance, and I’m sorry to say money is worthless now; however, I do own this cabin and the land around it,” Joe smiled as he spoke.

“Cloe, please untie Mr. Harp’s hands and give his shoes back to him. He won’t hurt us,” Cobie said as she stumbled back into the cabin.

Cloe charged in behind her mom and found her half on the couch where she had fallen. Cobie looked up and said, “Cloe untie the man, and then you can tend to me.”

Cloe untied Joe’s hand and gave him his pistol back. Joe entered the cabin and saw Cobie lying on the couch.

“Where were you shot? Let me see your wound,” Joe queried.

Cobie rolled to her side, and Joe peeled off the bandages to show an angry red wound that desperately needed attention. Joe opened his backpack, cleaned the wounds, squeezed antibiotic salve on both injuries, and said, “Ladies, I’m going back to my cabin and fetch some antibiotic pills. You need to fight this infection from the inside also.”

Cloe cried as she said, “Will mom be okay? Please go get the pills.”

“She will be fine a few days after we get these pills into her. I’ll be back in about two hours with the pills,” Joe answered.

Joe left his backpack and took the same route back to his cabin even though going in a straight line would have saved an hour because he was still worried about these men stumbling upon them. He arrived at the cabin and placed the medical items he needed in his pockets and added enough food for all of them for several days before heading back.

Joe was about halfway there as he walked in the edge of the woods when a strange looking vehicle drove slowly by his position and stopped. Joe froze as he watched the vehicle with the machine gun mounted on top disgorge four men who walked around the intersection where a dirt road headed north off this main gravel road.

The men spoke in a foreign language, and the only thing Joe understood was Allahu Akbar. The men piled back in the vehicle and headed east toward town. The driver and passenger were scanning the ground as though they were looking for tracks. The car was out of sight when Joe decided to head deeper into the woods and angle down to the cabin to make sure he couldn’t be seen from the woods.

Joe thought, “ Holy crap. These are Islamic Terrorists here in the mountains of Oregon .”

Cloe saw Joe’s backpack lying by the door and rifled through it to see if she could learn anything about this man. She found survival gear, some food, and two small envelopes. She took them to her mom and said, “Mom he had these envelopes in his backpack. Let’s read them and find out if he is a terrorist, or maybe a crook.”

Cloe, usually I’d be upset with you for looking through a stranger’s gear but hand those envelopes to me.”

The envelopes weren’t sealed, so Cobie opened on and saw:

Dear Joe:

It’s now a year since you started reading my letters. You recently lost your girlfriend and me, and I hope you have recovered. I hope you have a new love interest in your life to care for you and to discuss things with. One should never intentionally try to be alone. We are social animals and need other people. Shake off losses and work hard to move on in life but never forget the ones you love. I could say crap like “don’t cry over spilt milk,” but that doesn’t make the pain of the loss go away. I can say that you have to man up and do what it takes to survive and prosper in this mean old world. Don’t be a victim.