I grabbed my knife out of his big calloused hands, they still had a tight grip. I rolled him over, searched his pockets, I found a zippo lighter with a pack of cigarettes, along with a package of .45 cartridges and my two extra magazines. I took his jacket, I was surprised by how small he really was, the jacket was a little large but it fit, so I kept it on. I was tired. I knew there was only three miles left to the base. I checked the time by looking at the sun. Two hours tell dark. I settled down for the night underneath a big pine. I didn't light a fire, I was too close to base and it would give away my position to any more trackers following me. I was known everywhere, for I had created the most well known, yet non-existent base in New England. I was leader of this base as well, even the youth of our camp knew I was the one to ask approval from, and look up too. I had trained scouts, to check the surrounding area for "trackers" regularly. I kept us safe. All these memories passed through my head as I rested underneath the pine, I didn't sleep for fear of trackers.
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Instinct
AdventureThis is a story completely written on how one man, gray, instinctively reacts to his ever changing world. Where he runs a camp that has survived and become world renowned. Yet no one can find it
