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  “Thank you for telling us. We will find a road ahead to either cut across to 67 or turn around,” Nate said.

  “Well, if it’s just Highway 67 you need, take the next road to your left and follow it all the way. It will get you where you need to go,” the man replied as he slowly drove off.

  One by one the other vehicles drove by; each with an old man driving. One thing Nate did notice was that in the back windows of the vehicles, most of them had an old style rifle rack with two guns in it each.

  The men drove by the semi, waving at Henry. Henry waved back as he engaged the gears and followed Nate north. Nate told his father about what the man had said, and about the road ahead. Approaching the road, they could see it was mostly dirt. It looked in good condition, minus a few water puddles from the earlier rain. Only a few homes lay between the road they were on and the highway they sought. After about forty-five minutes, they headed south for a short drive until they reached another smaller road that would take them to State Road 97. This was eating up the massive tank of the semi fast. Nate radioed his father and asked him if they needed to stop for a bit to put some more diesel in the tank.

  “Yes, I think it’s time we all ate something anyway,” Henry replied.

  Nate followed the curvy road north, finally seeing a clearing area that they could all pull over to park. From a distance, it looked like a rest facility; but as they drove up, across the road was an older looking white one-story home.

  “That kind of looks like my grandma’s house, only bigger,” Ben said.

  Nate could see the same thing. The house appeared to be vacant, but he knew that someone might still be there. Nate looked at the map and noticed behind the house was the Platte River, and behind some trees just a little north was an old camping ground. He pulled back onto the main road and told his father to follow him up to the next turn. In moments, they were pulling into an empty lot of land with a shack that held small rafts he assumed were used to float the river. There was a small outhouse, and long areas to park. Nate was very surprised to see not one person around. It seemed for now that they had found a nice place to call it a day.

  “Well, I think we can rest up here for the night,” Nate was already thinking about a big fire and something to eat.

  Chapter 13

  Bitter Feelings and Redemption

  The area was stunning with beauty. Gently rolling hills dotted the area with many varieties of pine and Douglas fir. The camping area was more than large enough for the semi to back up into, and the trees provided some ability to hide the black rig. Nate parked close to the rear, but in a way that he could still make a fast retreat if needed. He was placing his gun back on his holster when Nicole approached him, followed by his parents.

  “Mr. Michaels, I want to thank you for saving my life. I really don’t think I was going to make it much longer,” Nicole said, walking closer to Nate and wrapping her tiny arms around him to thank him.

  Nate slowly placed his arms around her.

  “You are welcome. It was my pleasure.”

  Nate really was not one for many words in situations like this. He was searching hard for the right ones to say.

  She stepped back and spoke again.

  “Mrs. Michaels told me that if I wanted to, I could stay with you all on your trip.”

  Nate looked up at his mother who was nodding her head. Nate didn’t mind at all.

  “I am happy to hear that. We would love the extra company,” Nate replied. He wasn’t aware yet of her situation or of her family.

  “Can I help do anything?” she asked Nate. She was a very tiny eighteen year old. She had long blackish-brown hair. Her features were very beautiful, and she had big green eyes. She had a sweet smile and seemed to be outgoing. She only had a few fresh cut marks on her forehead, and a few on her legs. Nate was impressed that she survived the plane crash. He would find out later how that happened.

  “Well, first let me introduce you to my son Ben,” Nate responded as Ben came from the other side of the truck with Samson in tow. Nicole looked down to see the dog and looked up at Ben. She stuck out her hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Ben. Your grandmother told me a lot about you also,” she said.

  “Hi, I’m glad you are ok. This is Samson, he is a really good guard dog,” Ben replied.

  Nicole stepped forward to squat and pet the very large dog. She could have rode the dog, she was so tiny. Nate wondered if she was truly eighteen, but could tell in other ways she was mature, or at least seemed to be.

  “Mom, do you think we have anything Nicole can wear later? It’s going to get colder up here,” Nate asked Betty.

  Betty was watching Henry add fuel to the semi’s large tanks when she heard Nate’s question.

  “Yes, I think I might have something and a jacket,” Betty waited for Henry to finish before asking him to help her find the items. She had them in a Rubbermaid tub in the back trailer. The sun would be up for a few more hours, and Nate could hear water flowing nearby.

  “Ben, can you stay here with Nicole and Samson, I’m going to check the camp area and double check a few things,” Nate asked Ben.

  Ben liked being asked to watch over things; it made him feel again like he was trusted. Nicole turned to look at Ben and she smiled. Ben smiled back, but now felt uncertain what to say, so he turned his attention to Samson. Nicole giggled. She knew that she had embarrassed Ben. Betty told her earlier that Ben was supposed to be a high-functioning autistic, but seemed very normal. She wanted Nicole to grow to know Ben the way they all had in all the good ways.

  “Sure dad, I can watch. Dad, don’t forget a rifle.”

  Nate was already walking away and turned back when he realized Ben was right, he had almost forgotten his primary weapon.

  “Thank you, Ben. I did forget,” Nate replied.

  Nate opened the rear door of the truck and reached in, pulling out the lever action 45-70. He slung the strap over his shoulder and walked off toward his father and mother.

  “Hey guys, going to check the perimeter and make sure we are alone. I hear some water running. I will see if it’s anything we can filter for later,” Nate said.

  Henry looked over his shoulder to reply.

  “Ok, be careful. Don’t be long. I think we are all hungry,” he said.

  “I won’t be long.” Nate said as he hiked off toward the direction from where the water sounds came. The closer he got, the more he could see the crystal clear river that was located about eighty yards from the camp area. Walking up silently, he spotted several trout swimming and knew he would have to fish. The fish could help supplement some of the dehydrated foods and others things they ate. The water looked really clean, but he knew it would need to be filtered now or later if they just stored some in extra containers. He leaned down to feel the temperature of the water. It was fairly cold. The sound of the river was so relaxing.

  Bang!

  One gunshot sounded, echoing through the canyon walls and back again. It came from the sound of their camp sight. Nate stood and in an instant was running full throttle back to camp.

  “I said drop the pistol old man or the next one won’t be a warning shot,” the man said. One man stood holding what appeared to be an older style deer rifle. The lady looked scared, but followed the man’s instructions.

  Henry stood in front of his wife at about thirty yards away. The shooter was holding aim on Henry, and commanded that Nicole and Ben keep hold of the dog or he would shoot. Ben had a death grip on Samson’s collar.

  “Don’t shoot, I will put the gun down,” Henry said, realizing that any minute Nate would be back after hearing the gunshot. He was certain the man wasn’t aware of Nate being part of the party.

  “Well, that’s being a very smart old man,” the man said with an accent that Henry felt sounded from somewhere on the East Coast. Ben and Nicole came closer with Samson growling.

  “If you let go of that dog, he will die,” the shooter said emphatically.

  Ben
just froze; his eyes kept looking around for his father. Dad had to have heard the shot, Ben thought.

  “So, what part of New Jersey are you from?” Nicole asked. She was scared, but also was curious. Maybe if she let the man know that she was from Jersey, he would allow them to leave. The shooter looked at her and his eyes opened wide at the sight of the small woman who had the same accent as he did.

  “South Shore. I guess you are also from the sound of your voice,” he said sarcastically.

  “Camden,” Nicole said, relaxing some.

  The man smiled.

  “I’m from Gloucester Township; we are close enough. What are you doing here?” he asked, lowering his rifle only a fraction. The woman with him seemed aggravated with his discussion and somewhat jealous.

  “Now do me a favor…all of you step back from the rig. Who has the keys?” he asked. No sound came from Henry.

  “Don’t make me ask again. I will start with the dog, then the boy,” he warned, now aiming the rifle at Ben.

  Henry spoke. “I will give you the keys, but this is your last warning to lay your weapon down, son. If you do, I guarantee you will be allowed to leave unharmed,” Henry warned sternly. Henry was still in front of Betty and she knew by his voice that something was going to happen.

  “Betty, I need you to look down. Ben and Nicole you do the same and don’t look up until I tell you,” Henry said loud.

  The shooter just laughed. “Seriously, old man? I have a gun on you and you are warning me?” the shooter asked.

  Henry didn’t change his facial expression.

  Nate was crouched nearby; he could see exactly what was going on. He was laying on his stomach with his rifle aimed at the man’s head. He wanted to shoot and could hear his father’s words. He knew his dad was giving him signs to shoot anytime. Yet there was something about the man, something familiar. The voice seemed familiar to him. Then he heard Ben speak. Ben was still looking down when he spoke.

  “I know your voice,” Ben said slowly like he was just discovering the solution to a problem in his head.

  “You know my voice? Really? Well now that you mention it, you do look familiar also, boy,” the man said, turning his head and studying Ben.

  “Look at me, boy. Do as I say,” the shooter said. Ben didn’t budge.

  “Ben. Just keep your head down,” Henry said.

  The shooter got angry.

  “Shut the hell up, old man. I have the gun, not you. Now I said look at me, boy.”

  Ben was scared and slowly raised his head. The shooter studied Ben’s face. His attitude seemed to leave as he soon realized who Ben was.

  “Well, I’ll be…it’s you! Mr. Bear Spray To The Face!” the shooter laughed, but then became serious, looking as his eyes darted around, and he slowly backed up.

  Nate smiled. It was Mr. Jersey Shore Don from Cripple Creek, Colorado. The man who – with other men – held women hostage as sex slaves in a camp. They had kidnapped Ben, who tried to fight them off using bear spray. The last time Nate saw the men, they were tied up to ATVs and sent to the town being dragged along to face justice. It appeared one had escaped.

  Nate rolled over a few times staying low to the ground. Once in a position to affect the next move, he stood with the semi blocking any view the shooter had. Nate knew this type of man. Always blowing off at the mouth, never doing what they threaten. He could have ended the standoff, but felt this could go a different way. He used the thick bushes to hide as he made his way closer.

  “Ben, how do you know this guy?” Henry asked.

  Before Ben could answer, the man interrupted.

  “I will tell you how; this kid, a while back, sprayed a friend of mine with bear spray before we stopped him from getting the rest of us. Then some man he was with came and tied me and my friends up to ATVs and had some women march us off to town, all because we were choosing to live a different way,” he replied.

  “That’s not how it all happened!” Ben exclaimed.

  The man just smiled at Ben. “Well boy, I don’t see anyone here to tell a different story,” he said. The shooter noticed everyone starting to smile. He followed their eyes and knew they were all looking at someone behind him.

  “He’s behind me, isn’t he boy?” the shooter said, already lowering his rifle to the ground. Nate slowly stood, rising like an angry grizzly protecting her young.

  “Yes. Yes, I am,” Nate replied.

  The shooter dropped his rifle and stood still.

  “Well, I see you learned your lesson from the snake shoot,” Nate reminded the man. Nate had shot the man once before with snake shoot to make his point during their first encounter during his journey home.

  Nate walked up to the man holding his rifle leveled at his chest. Henry walked over and picked up his pistol.

  “So, this is that man?” Henry asked, trying not to laugh. Nate had told his parents the story of what occurred most of the way home. He didn’t leave out this event.

  Nate pushed the man to the back of the semi and spun him around. He was dressed differently than before. He was wearing light colored khaki pants and a jacket that didn’t fit. He couldn’t tell if he had on a shirt or not under the jacket. The jacket had a name badge that read Sam’s Wood Shop.

  “So, want to tell me where you got these clothes from? But let’s begin with what happened after the women took you into Cripple Creek,” Nate asked as his father tied the man’s hands up from the back. Nate wished he had a pair of handcuffs right about now.

  “They set us free,” he replied, looking down to the ground.

  Nate remembered the town clearly and saw law enforcement sitting outside the town’s small courthouse and jail. He found it very hard to believe that they just set the men free.

  “Really, you think I’m going to believe that? What happened to the women?” Nate wanted to change the direction of the questioning. While in the military, Nate was trained to get information from prime targets by many means necessary. He had a few ideas of how to get the truth from the man.

  “They took off with their family as soon as we arrived. Some of the men from their family wanted to hang us.”

  Nate could tell this part was true. The fear in his eyes told the story accurately.

  “I never saw them again,” he replied.

  Nate winked at his father and mother, and then turned his face toward Ben and Nicole who stood by watching, doing the same.

  “Well, what is your name again? Dan?” Nate asked.

  “It’s Don,” he replied as Nate grab him from his tied up hands and led him away from the others.

  “Since you will not be truthful with me, I have no alternative but to take you for a walk.”

  Don’s eyes opened wide.

  “Wait, what do you mean a walk?” he said, trying to pull away, but Nate’s size was easily pulling the man up and nearly dragging him along. “I told you they just let us go, and I gave up without a fight to you,” the man stated.

  Nate could tell he still wasn’t being truthful, and he continued to walk the man toward the river. Don looked ahead and saw the river.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  Nate didn’t reply. He remained silent as he kept pulling the man along.

  “Listen, I can help. I can get you guys food, water, whatever you need. I have a place…”

  Nate cut him off and stopped.

  “We don’t need any of that. I need the truth about how you got this far south, and why you are not locked up in a jail cell,” Nate said as he kept walking.

  They came closer to the river now; so close that Nate could still see trout swimming by. The man looked up at Nate and started begging him to stop. His emotions started to change as Nate placed him on his knees.

  “Ok, I will tell you. Wait please. Remember that girl you put in charge of the ATVs?” Don said, looking up at Nate’s face.

  Nate did; he remembered the older lady he had put in charge.

  “I recall the older lady I
put in charge,” Nate replied.

  Don had a confused look on his face. Then he appeared to have a revelation.

  “Yes, I guess that’s what you remember, but she died on the way back to Cripple Creek. The other lady with her on the same ATV – the younger one – she took charge; sorry, I meant her.”

  Nate stepped closer to the man. “What happened to the old lady?” Nate was getting angry.

  “We think she had a heart attack or something. She was leading the way and suddenly everything came to a halt. The younger girl started CPR, but it was too late, she was gone,” Don said.

  The way Don told the story, and the clear emotions he was sharing told Nate it was the truth.

  “Ok, sorry to hear that. Perhaps the stress of what you all did to those women took a toll,” Nate replied, not letting him out of the responsibility of his actions.

  “So, tell me what happened when you all got to town,” Nate asked.

  Don turned his head, looking up the road and then back to Nate.

  “The police took us, and at first, they put us all in their one jail cell. The women told the police their accounts of how you did what you did. The family got word they had made it to town, and tried to take us all from the jail by force. The two officers nearly came to a point of shooting them all. Two of the men came down with some sickness from lack of sanitation. They both died fairly quick. Then others got sick. Then one day, one of the women came back; the younger one. We had actually begun a relationship at the camp,” Don said.

  Nate felt he was telling the truth up until now.

  “Wait…you forced any relationship with those women. I saw what was going on there at that so-called camp,” Nate stated, becoming angry again.

  Don dropped his head and spoke slowly.

  “Listen…what we did was wrong, but I did have a relationship with her. She came back to the jail to inform me that she was pregnant. The officers had already decided they couldn’t keep or feed us any longer, plus one of us was spreading some illness. They decided to give each of us one gallon of water and a little food, and they made us leave town. If we came back, we would be shot on sight. Each one of us had to go off in separate directions. I headed north,” Don said.