The eight people in the small camp were resting, and one was cooking something that my binoculars could not identify. I had crossed their trail late yesterday afternoon and had been following them since then trying to decide whether or not to approach them. In another life I had been a scout in the Army and the lessons I had learned then served me well now. They all carried backpacks but the men alone seemed to be carrying firearms. Each man carried a pistol of some type, Glock it looked like, probably .40 or 9mm in shoulder holsters plus long guns - scoped bolt action rifles originally used for deer hunting before The Bad Times. The heavyset man with the thick white beard was not a deer hunter, he carried a M4 with a small scope. The men also carried several knives on them and probably more that I did not see. I had almost decided to move on when one of the girls was motioned over to the heavyset man, Mr M4 - I could not hear what was being said but when he threw a canteen at her and the other men did the same I knew she was going to make a water run and I would get some answers. As she was leaving, the smallest of the men tripped her and down she went, this time I could hear his laughter as she struggled to get up with all the canteens strapped to her. Evidently she was not fast enough because Shorty kicked her hard in the side and down she went again. I could see that Shorty was getting worked up and would probably deliver another kick when one of the girls got between Shorty and his intended target, giving her ehough time to get up and away. Through the binos I watched as Shorty's face darkened with rage, and his hand flew down to a large knife on his belt, reading his lips was easy with the binos, "Gonna skin you alive for that bitch!" Quickly I shifted the binos to Mr M4 and felt my stomach drop, he was smiling in...anticipation maybe? Maybe it was a joke but somehow I doubted that, doubted it very much. Quickly I slid down the hill out of sight to where I had left my gear grabbing my Remington Model 742 rifle and several extra rounds then scurried back up the hill trying to control my breathing...Shorty was yelling at the other guy to hold her down and he was doing just that but did not look too happy about it. The other females where cowering down around a large stone hoping they would not be next and Shorty was really amped up I could clearly see the veins and tendons sticking out in his neck. He walked over to where Mr Unhappy was holding the girl and kicked her in the face, once, hard. She stopped struggling and as he bent over her with his knife I shot him thru the top of his head, then not watching him fall, switched targets quickly and shot Mr M4 thru the neck in a blurry high velocity red spray of blood, then I centered my scope on the last one, still stupidly holding the unconscious girl down and shot him thru the head, blowing blood, bone, and brain matter all over his dead woman-beating buddy. For a heartbeat there was no sound, nothing, absolute silence, then one of the girls let out a long, ragged shriek, and then suddenly the canteen girl runs into camp, heads over to the girl on the ground and starts trying to help her up. “OH shit, what have I got myself into now?" was my main thought as i started working my way down the rock strewn hillside toward the camp. By the time I made it down to the camp some serious shock was starting to set in with the women, except for the one still unconscious that is, keeping my hands in plain site and empty I introduced myself and then asked them who were the men that I had just killed. At first no one answered, and they just looked at me blankly, then the one with the canteens, Lynne spoke with a cultured, well educated voice and told me what had happened to bring them way the hell out this way – They were from a small collective farm several days south of here and had been out picking the last of the wild grapes that were still clinging to the vines when these 3 men had attacked them, killed the two men-folk with them and took them into the forested mountains north of their farm. The men had a kind of 'survival compound' high in the mountains and needed new “breeding stock” so they raided the local collective farms in the outlying areas. As she talked the one that was almost skinned alive started coming around so I asked her to stop a minute while we checked her over and so I could throw several more large logs on the fire. Getting my kettle out of my pack I filled it with water and set it on the coals of the fire so we could heat some water to clean blood from the woman’s face, and now that I was closer I noticed that Lynne was indeed very attractive and had hands not like a farmers wife with calluses and rough skin from lye soap, but soft and well manucured, While her clear blue eyes searched mine for...what? Hostile intent? Disease? Some type of knowledge perhaps? I noticed a thatch of red hair sticking out from under her bonnet and she frowned tucking it back in deftly. Several of the women were older, probably in their late 30s and 40s possibly one was Lynne's mother, but no, something about the way they women defered to her, and the way the one had helped her only to be kicked unconscious for her troubles. I wondered about the survivalist’s real motives and what was really happening here. Probably best left unsaid especially after all they had just been through. The women were from one of the religious colony’s farms, and were not much on talking to me, all except Lynne who seemed to be their natural spokesperson. She thanked me for “delivering them from the evil, misguided, demon influenced men” and said the farm would reward me with a room and maybe even a job perhaps hoeing weeds while being preached too for untold hours…No, no, their way was not my way and I was damned sure of that. I needed to get these women to safety then get out of this area as soon as possible. The shots probably had not been heard but I was not going to take a chance that these fellers had friends close by, and who would be a might perturbed about their passing on. I’ll say this much for these women, they bounced back quickly from being hostages in a life threatening situation one minute to being free and rustling up a meal of canned beans the next. Unfortunately after supper we could not stay in this camp and they were not too happy about having to walk through the night until I found another campsite that was easily defended and close to water. We had walked about 2 hours when I called a halt, told them "no fire, sleep now" I stayed awake until my eyes grew heavy then kicked the one called Lynne awake, none to gently lest she get the wrong idea and told her to wake me if she heard or saw anything out of the ordinary.The rest of the night passed uneventful and while the ladies were performing their morning ablutions I scouted a couple miles back south and saw dust in the air several miles back, maybe from a wagon/horses or a large group of people walking.Now we had a problem, and yes by we I meant myself and the ladies dammit. Nothing but trouble dammit, I should be high into the mountains now fixing up the old trapping cabin I had found in a hidden valley with a spring whose water was so cold it made your teeth ache when you drank it. I should be cutting wood, cleaning/oiling the old traps, drying meat and fish for the fast approaching winter instead of being here on the side of this mountain with five religious type farmer's wives! Damn my luck anyway! I called Lynne over for a quick palaver to see if her farmers would have sent a search party and her answer was a demure 'If Jesus wills' so is that a yes or a no? In other words she had no idea, or did she? For a brief moment I thought I saw something else in her eyes, and that something else was fear. Why would she be scared of her own people? What was going on with these people? Why have a collective farming community this far away from civilization, well civilization that we have now, after the Bad Times all civilization pretty much went into the toilet, and pretty much still is and right now I like it that way because it lets me slip through the cracks and stay free. If I was going to stay free then I had to get these ladies somewhere safe and get myself to that cabin. Leaving the women strict instructions to stay hidden and quiet I left all my gear with them except my rifle with all my ammo, pistol, small backpack with first aid kit and 2 canteens. Moving quickly but carefully, not wanting to leave a back trail they could follow right back here i tried to close the distance with the group. After an hour or so I heard something off in the distance, it reverberated through-out the canyons, valleys and draws so I could not tell what direction it was coming from. It was early fall I thought, somewhere around Halloween back when we still enjoyed that pagan ritual All Hallows Eve, when the years harvest was safely put up and the fields lie fallow until the rebirth of the sun brings the warmth back into the soil. A drizzle was starting to fall, and I had stopped to get my raingear out, scanning the area like I always do before taking off or I would not have seen where they had carefully crossed the creek, set a massive swinging log driven thru with metal stakes right at about crotch level. They had recrossed and were probably waiting another 100 meters or so down the hill into the dark trees. Damn, here I was woolgathering about Halloween before the Bad Times and someone was trying to kill me dead. I don't think they've have seen me yet or they would have tried to shoot me. I low crawled back about 50 meters and then got to my feet and ran. I was warning the women that the men behind us were not friendly as I had hoped, not running away from a fight. A man learns to pick his battles, and this was not one of them, not yet anyway. It took the best part of two hours to get back to where I had left them and they were gone. Not only where they gone but so were my supplies, I needed those damn supplies! Hastily I searched about for tracks or footprints and did not like what I found. Someone had systematically wiped out all trace of the womens hiding place, which is almost impossible considering the terrain here and then it dawned on me. The sound I had heard earlier but could not place, was a helicopter! They had been picked up in a large helicopter and only the army had any that still worked. Who in the hell where those people?! Why the lies? The round pinged off the rock less than 1/2 an inch from my face and I blinked then hit the ground, rolled, and kept rolling until I was below the line of the hill, got up and for the second time today, ran like hell!.
