revenge in the worst way. But I really didn’t see it as revenge. To me, it was a proactive attack to defend my family and myself. To defend our home.
I began each day with a stare down. My opponent? The road. Specifically, the road from the south. And each morning, the empty road claimed its victory.
Wilson told us it would be at least a week before he came back. Since I believed good news traveled fast, I expected him at any moment…every day.
I also spent my time chopping and stacking wood. The previous winter we had been low by the end of the heating season. I figured we needed another cord above and beyond what I’d cut previously.
Which kept me busy, and in front of the cabin.
Which turned out to be a lucky break for us all.
Mid-day, I noticed movement in the brush across the road, pausing from my wood stacking to study it closer. Seeing nothing more, I dismissed it as a deer or maybe even Chester or one of his family members. The wolves had been active lately, still hungry after a long cold winter.
An hour passed, maybe two. I worked up a good sweat making dozens of trips from the front of the cabin to the rear. At some point, Daisy sat a cup of water out for me and disappeared back inside.
I paused, taking in the beautiful, sunny early summer weather. If nothing, No Where was a beautiful place to call home. Home, I mused, what a strange concept.
For almost the first year and a half in Michigan’s remote northern reaches, getting back to my original home was all I ever thought of. Oh sure, there were breaks in that thought pattern. I had to take time out to survive, sleep, hunt and get shot several times. Other than that, Joliet, Illinois and my wife Shelly were forefront on my mind.
Perhaps Marge’s family swayed me from that thinking. Or the arrival of and love given by Daisy and Libby. Maybe it was even something as simple as Dizzy’s friendship that eventually made those dreams fade away like a bad cut. Whatever it was, No Where was where I belonged. Where I would live out my remaining days. Where I would eventually die and be buried, or fed to my wolf pack as dinner.
Had I given up on all other life? Was this all that was left in the world for me? Was there anything left beyond the borders of my roaming that was better? A place that had more food, more supplies, more decent folks?
Lost in my thoughts, the voice from the north side of my open yard froze me dead in my tracks and made me drop my water.
“Hello there,” the voice called out.
I spun and drew my 45 on a younger man with long hair and a longer beard. His dark eyes focused tightly on me. Both hands raised, as if that fooled me. In his right hand he carried a stick with a white rag tied to the end.
“I just want to talk,” he continued calmly. “I don’t want trouble.”
That’s what they all said.
Day 1,030 - continued
Since he didn’t appear to have a weapon on him, I let my gun hang by my side. That didn’t mean he didn’t have two or three friends hiding somewhere close. No, that most likely was the case. I chose to focus my attention on the immediate threat standing in front of me.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, man,” he said, smiling seemingly sincerely. “I know you’re working hard, so I won’t keep you long.”
Remaining silent, I cast a glance over the road again to the spot where I’d seen movement earlier. Again, nothing. I quickly peeked behind me. Nothing. I turned back to my visitor. He wasn’t alone, and he certainly wasn’t fooling me.
“Can we talk?” he asked, not smiling as much anymore. “Like reasonable people?”
I doubted his sincerity. Like everyone else from the road, he wanted something. Regardless of what that something was, it was mine and he wasn’t getting it.
Taking two steps toward the man, I raised my weapon. Leveling it on his chest, his smile faded slightly.
“I’m not in a very talkative mood,” I replied, circling him for a weapon check. “Pull your shirt up so I
I began each day with a stare down. My opponent? The road. Specifically, the road from the south. And each morning, the empty road claimed its victory.
Wilson told us it would be at least a week before he came back. Since I believed good news traveled fast, I expected him at any moment…every day.
I also spent my time chopping and stacking wood. The previous winter we had been low by the end of the heating season. I figured we needed another cord above and beyond what I’d cut previously.
Which kept me busy, and in front of the cabin.
Which turned out to be a lucky break for us all.
Mid-day, I noticed movement in the brush across the road, pausing from my wood stacking to study it closer. Seeing nothing more, I dismissed it as a deer or maybe even Chester or one of his family members. The wolves had been active lately, still hungry after a long cold winter.
An hour passed, maybe two. I worked up a good sweat making dozens of trips from the front of the cabin to the rear. At some point, Daisy sat a cup of water out for me and disappeared back inside.
I paused, taking in the beautiful, sunny early summer weather. If nothing, No Where was a beautiful place to call home. Home, I mused, what a strange concept.
For almost the first year and a half in Michigan’s remote northern reaches, getting back to my original home was all I ever thought of. Oh sure, there were breaks in that thought pattern. I had to take time out to survive, sleep, hunt and get shot several times. Other than that, Joliet, Illinois and my wife Shelly were forefront on my mind.
Perhaps Marge’s family swayed me from that thinking. Or the arrival of and love given by Daisy and Libby. Maybe it was even something as simple as Dizzy’s friendship that eventually made those dreams fade away like a bad cut. Whatever it was, No Where was where I belonged. Where I would live out my remaining days. Where I would eventually die and be buried, or fed to my wolf pack as dinner.
Had I given up on all other life? Was this all that was left in the world for me? Was there anything left beyond the borders of my roaming that was better? A place that had more food, more supplies, more decent folks?
Lost in my thoughts, the voice from the north side of my open yard froze me dead in my tracks and made me drop my water.
“Hello there,” the voice called out.
I spun and drew my 45 on a younger man with long hair and a longer beard. His dark eyes focused tightly on me. Both hands raised, as if that fooled me. In his right hand he carried a stick with a white rag tied to the end.
“I just want to talk,” he continued calmly. “I don’t want trouble.”
That’s what they all said.
Day 1,030 - continued
Since he didn’t appear to have a weapon on him, I let my gun hang by my side. That didn’t mean he didn’t have two or three friends hiding somewhere close. No, that most likely was the case. I chose to focus my attention on the immediate threat standing in front of me.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, man,” he said, smiling seemingly sincerely. “I know you’re working hard, so I won’t keep you long.”
Remaining silent, I cast a glance over the road again to the spot where I’d seen movement earlier. Again, nothing. I quickly peeked behind me. Nothing. I turned back to my visitor. He wasn’t alone, and he certainly wasn’t fooling me.
“Can we talk?” he asked, not smiling as much anymore. “Like reasonable people?”
I doubted his sincerity. Like everyone else from the road, he wanted something. Regardless of what that something was, it was mine and he wasn’t getting it.
Taking two steps toward the man, I raised my weapon. Leveling it on his chest, his smile faded slightly.
“I’m not in a very talkative mood,” I replied, circling him for a weapon check. “Pull your shirt up so I
Similar Books
