The late summer thunderstorms crashed amongst the mountains. Michael and Ken, sheltered in one of the hostel service shelters, established for those adventurous hikers on the trail.
This section of the trail wandered near a small mountain town, with specialty shops, shops that served the needs of hikers on the trail. Three days before they had crossed into North Carolina, moving north. There was no sign of the people that had once lived and played throughout the area. The shops, and vacant hostels were not looted. The people had seemingly abandoned the small town, shops, restaurants, diners, left unlocked. The goods untouched.
It was an eerie scene, like something out of post apocalypse horror movies only, no bodies, no zombies, as if the people had simply vanished. Both Mike and Ken felt sure they had more than a clue as to what had happened.
Taking care to leave no trace of their passing the two men gathered extensive supplies, Both ecstatic to find very nice examples, upscale versions of military jungle hammock/ shelters. No more crashing under the half shelters and ranger rolls they had been carrying. Ken eyed the bicycle shop, after some serious thought and discussion, they decided not to acquire bicycles.
Though, the camping trailer Ken had spied out, designed to be towed by a bicyclist, held some intriguing possibilities. They liberated it from the shop display, Ken set about adapting it to be easily rigged to his ,and or mikes LBE vests. Once secured, the trailer towed easily behind, the man, hands free and with the quick release buckles, easily dropped in a hurry if need be.
They could carry a great deal more supplies with this. Mike scrounged through the shops, securing freeze dried meals, snacks, all the food they could carry in their packs and on the trailer. Though, he was careful to leave no trace of his passing.
In no case were any shop shelves emptied. There was still no clear destination in mind, no agreed upon plan other than an unspoken plan to avoid people. They had traveled nearly a full week, in near silence. Neither man had spoken of what had led them to this situation.
There’s a type of bond, that forms between brothers, Ranger buddies, even more so than battle buddies, Ranger buddies that are also battle buddies, sometimes no words are needed, action is carried out almost instinctively, reflexively.
Both had been wrapped in their own thoughts. Ken, absorbing , digesting the events of the last months, observing his friend with concern. Mike never stayed withdrawn and silent.
This was new territory for him. Ken worried that things may have gotten somewhat unpredictable. Through all of the madness, Michael had been Kens rock, steady, stable, the only thing left in this world Ken held any faith or trust in while everything around them had been coming undone.
Michael had begun a running conversation in his head, talking with GOD, as if GOD was listening. A childhood of sunday school and Bible believing grandparents, had instilled a core belief, a distant hope, that had been left behind after his teen years.
He had enlisted on his 17th birthday. The next few years gave him an new world view and concept of reality. Michael had seen no evidence of a merciful God in Africa, or the Balkans. The only evidence he had seen, spoke of the evil and depravity of humans. Michael carried no conviction of heaven, but, he held a firm belief in hell, having walked there a few times in person.
Deep inside however, a still small voice spoke to him. Memories of sunday school, of the last days hysteria that had swept the churches in his childhood. Problem was, there had been no rapture, no sudden vanishings into the clouds, The Roman empire had not returned, no proclaimed antichrist, no one world government or religion, none of the various theories that had been popular themes were evident.
The end of the world, or, at the least, the collapse of civilization was either in progress or imminent. likely both! The Apocalypse, evidently had not began as of yet.
Not clearly knowing why, or consciously thinking about it, Michael had picked up an King James 1611 Bible from a abandoned Christian bookstore back in Dawsonville. By the third night on the trail, he had begun to read from it, nightly and when ever they stopped to rest or eat their scant provisions.
Growing up, his grandfather had repeatedly told him, the only light and truth, the only hope, was within that Book.
Michael was desperately searching for what his Grandpa had claimed was there. Some hope, to combat this empty aching despair that filled him. Remembering both his Father and Grandfathers examples, Michael had begun an silent inner conversation with GOD.
What began as a wtf! A list of angry complaints had, morphed into questions, and become a sort of habitual one sided conversation that kept his mind occupied as they traveled. Ken watched this, without comment, keeping his thoughts to himself.
Michael had worked his way through the pentatuech, the first five books of Moses and his way through the Psalms of David. Some of the laments he could deeply identify with. Lamentations, Ezekiel, Isaiah and Daniel, spoke to him though he honestly was not sure what it was they had to say.
Disturbing dreams had become a nightly normal. Dreams that left him unsettled, every morning. Dreams that became a large part of the subject matter of his ongoing inner monologue with GOD.
One theme had become clear. Suffering, pain, sacrifice, betrayal, had been at least as common in Biblical days as in current days. Job had been depressing, Michael found plenty of misery there, though he still held a faint hope, for the comfort, the peace, the hope his Grandfather had spoken of. That hope was fading as he read.
How had Noah, Joseph, Moses, Job, all held onto faith with the horrors their life had been? That had become a central question for Michael.
Plodding along, Michael had some faith in his grandfather even if he doubted GOD cared. So, he continued to read, and to talk to the God he was neither sure was there, or if he was, that he cared.
Despair tormented Michaels heart. He moved forward only by instinct.
†*********************†
The creek was bitter cold. John, watched out as the boys horsed around, while cleaning off the sweat and grime, washed their socks, and clothing amongst the tumbled rocks of the creek.
Six teenage boys, 15-18 yrs old, could be an unruly handful. Six badly frightened, exhausted, and beyond stressed teens, was a nightmare.
Thomas, pretentious jack ass that he was attempted to assert authority, barking demands at the boys, which, the boys promptly ignored. Now and again the youngest boys glanced towards John, for instruction, or directions.
The church camping group, had been on the Appalachian trail themselves when the fires had come. With no contact with the shambles of the outside world, the group, were unaware of what had happened to their world at large.
What they did know was, cel phones, tablets, gps, all simply shut down, they quit working entirely. The earth quakes had shook them a bit, and the nightly Auroras were spectacular.
When they had trekked back to the parking area, the situation was traumatic. None of the vehicles worked, everything was closed down, abandoned, and , there were the bodies of the Park service personnel and some fellow park visitors to tell the tale.
They gathered everything useful they could scrounge, blankets, water bottles etc that they could find, even breaking into the snack and soda machines, taking the various drinks and snacks they held, they then retreated back onto the trail.
John had decided that they would hike the trail, and hunker down in one of the trail shelters until they could think of what else to do or rescue arrived. Distant smoke on the horizon spoke of massive urban fires, John decided that their best course of action was to give it a day or two, he left a note for any rescue teams that may come along and led them back up the path to the trail.
The boys were quiet and subdued. Fear clearly shadowed their eyes. Thus they found themselves, a week later, hungry, filthy, frightened, cleaning up in the ice cold creek, some trying to tickle the small trout and Bream So they could eat. Some rinsing filthy clothing , all trying to stay cool in the muggy heat.
No one had been watching the trail itself. The appearance of two, uniformed, armed men, obviously some sort of soldiers startled them.
Whooping in relief the boys , thinking it a rescue team rushed the two men, who quickly dropped behind tree cover, pointing wicked looking rifles at the boys, and barking orders to back off or else.
The boys halted haphazardly, some throwing themselves to the ground, Thomas yelped, crying out loudly" Don't shoot! We're unarmed! We need help! " John took to cover amongst the over sized rocks and boulders that framed the creek, dragging those boys he could reach, roughly down with him.
__________________________
Ken called halt from his movement position on point, his right hand upraised, closed fist. He had moved to the edge of the cleared trail, taking a knee amongst the brush and branches along the edge. Silently, Mike, followed suit, moving to the opposite edge from Kens position.
Ken pointed to his eyes, then his ears, then gestured towards the sound of a distant stream down hill from the trail.
Mike then heard what had alerted Ken, laughter, distant sporadic laughter amongst the streams faint murmuring. Ken moved further into the brush, and began to slowly belly crawl towards the sounds after quietly wriggling out of his pack and the gear he carried. Rifle ready Ken crawled silently along the ground.
Mike, shrugging off his heavy load, leaving his pack and the trailer behind as he quickly moved into to an overwatch position on the opposite side of the trail from Ken, to try and provide covering fire should Ken have need, or quickly react to a possible ambush.
Rule one when ambushed, attack the ambush. Immediate violence of action in response was the best tactic. Eyes scanning, Mike scanned the clock, looking for tracks, any sign of movement. That was when the silence registered.
A cold chill flooded his stomach, nothing good ever happened when the forrest was silent. Controlling his breathing, Mike kept overwatch. Ken moved excruciatingly slowly, silently, until from beside a big hickory tree he found an observation position.
After a few minutes and an odd, confused head shake, Ken began moving back towards Mike. Using silent hand signals to report what he had observed. Mike was a bit confused and concerned by Kens report.
While Ken retrieved his pack and equipment, Mike moved and reacquired his as well, then Ken once more took point as they moved back up trail, along the direction they had come from.
A Good ten minutes travel, and stepping up hill, off the trail, the Two Rangers dropped their load, took a knee and softly discussed the situation.
A group of more than a dozen, apparently teen, boys, accompanied by two adult males, noisily moved, played, performing chores of a sort along the Creek bed below. No weapons in sight, no guards or overwatch posted.
The two Men contemplated what to do. Once they Reached a consensus, they began moving out. Now moving openly and a bit noisily moving back towards the boys along the trail. Fifteen minutes and they were looking down, directly from the trail, at the boys scattered, scampering along the creek bed below.
Up hill, to their right, a shelter showed signs of occupancy. Mike and Ken stood quietly in the open, waiting to be noticed. It was clear, these were not tangoes or bandits. Why exactly, along with who, what where etc. Would soon be addressed.
One boy looked up, eyes wide he cried out warning of the two silent heavily armed men. One of the adults, a tall black man swept the nearest boy to him up, and moved behind cover of the smooth worn river rocks of the shallow falls.
The other adult, a much shorter, thickly built man stood , frozen, staring up. Some of the boys copied the tall adults actions seeking cover among the large tumbled rocks, most however, froze in fear and stared.
Mike could see no weapons, no evidence of such in sight. He slowly unslung his rifle, placing it gently on the ground at his feet. Ken made no move, standing quietly rifle at ready arms.
Mike stood straight, extending empty hands, to show he meant no harm, that there was no threat speaking in a calm clear voice " Hello there" .
That triggered action amongst the boys who began to point and call out " John, John look! "
After a few moments John stood up, stepping out from the cover of the rocks. The other man stood still frozen in place staring in obvious fear.
One of the boys, noticed the uniforms, " look, its the army! We are rescued! " John warily studied the two men. A moment longer, " Hello, are you looking for us? We could use your help. " gesturing at the scattered boys.
Ken grunted, letting his hand drop away from his rifle, as Mike replied, " What are you doing up here? "
"We were camping and hiking, " John gestured at the boys, " We are a church youths group, then the sky went crazy and everything electronic quit working, we hiked back to our parking area, and it was a mess. None of the cars would start even though they had plenty of gas, and there were some bodies, people killed, we were scared and ran back to the shelter to wait for rangers, rescuers or y'all. " John gestured in the direction of the shelter , then at Mike and Ken as he finished. Around him, the boys gathered staring at the two soldiers.
Ken pursed his lips saying nothing as Mike absorbed the story. Covertly, Mike signaled Ken , using hand signals, Ken nodded once then backed away, turning to carefully approach and look over the shelter and camp site.
Mike remained standing, quietly assessing the scene below, the dynamics of the boys behavior, their interaction and the way the group looked to the man, John, marked him out as the groups leader.
"Hooahh, clear." Kens voice called from up hill. Mike gestured at John addressing him " Would you come up and talk with me? How long have you guys been up here? Have you seen anyone else? " John nodded, scrambling up the hill, telling his group to stay in place, keep together. And, to run, scatter if anything bad happens.
John figured he really didn't have a choice but to comply with Mikes, request. A feeling of cold apprehension caused his knees to feel weak, trembling as he hurried up the mountain side, to the cleared, leveled area of the trail. Mike slowly retrieved his rifle, shoulder slinging it as he stepped back onto the trail. Ken reappeared, silently making hand gestures while keeping in an overwatch position where he could see both, John, and the group, now huddled along the creek bank. The other adult, collapsed , taking seat on a mossy stone as the boys gathered around him at the creeks bank.
John cleared the top, moving onto the trail, hands open, kept away from his side. " Hello there, my name is John, " he declared, extending his right hand, Mike studied the man, scanning him up and down before extending his own hand, " Howdy, I am Mike, " pointing towards Ken with a bob of his head, " thats Ken. " "We were on patrol, when we heard y'all, and stopped to investigate."
John looked Mike over then grasped his outstretched hand, " Pleased to meet you. " they shook hands, Mike took a knee, waving at John to join him. " We have a lot to talk about. " Ken maintained his position, trying to watch everyone at once while Mike and John talked quietly for a moment, Then John called back to his waiting group, " It's okay come on up lets get to the shelter. "
The boys began a haphazard scramble with accompanied horse play as they moved towards the log shelter. Ken watched, a mildly amused smile as the group crossed the trail heading up the path to the shelter.
The other man, disappointed Ken with his hiding in the midst of the group of boys and refusal to openly even look towards Ken.
Mike and John had resumed their conversation, with nods, gestures, and an occasional " You have to be kidding! " exclamation from John. None of what Mike had to impart, was anything like anything that John had expected, as Mike explained the unreal nightmare aspects of recent events.
Mike filled John in on what had been going on in the outside world over the last two and a half weeks. John listened, with a stunned sense of doom settling in. Apocalyptic, barely described the nightmare that the world had become.
Ken returned , towing the trailer with both their packs secured to the trailer as Mike had finished his narrative. John was shook, the news of , no possible rescue, and the busses, and freight cars with shackles was nearly unbelievable.