came back into view.
Since he’d seen the rider disappear, he started formulating his plan, but first he had to wait until he made it around the property and onto its west side.
Once there, he confirmed that the rise was high enough to hide his activities from the next rider making his rounds. He also looked at the surveillance cameras on the outside corners of the farmhouse. One was pointing in the other direction. That was good.
One was pointing directly at the place where Dave would make his assault.
That was very, very bad.
But there was nothing he could do about it.
He couldn’t see the hayloft door on the big red hay barn from this location. That was good. If Dave couldn’t see the barn’s sentry, then the sentry couldn’t see Dave.
The best thing about his ambush point on the west side of the property were the intermittent shrubs along the outside of the fence line.
Dave had a lot of respect for his brother-in-law Tommy, both as a man and as a prepper.
But leaving the shrubs in place along the tree line was a serious mistake.
If the property were still in the hands of the good guys, the shrubs would have allowed marauders to sneak right up to the property and remain hidden from view.
Not that Dave could complain much.
For it would allow him to do the same thing,
He looked toward the west and saw that the sun was beginning to drop behind the tall pines.
It was time to go back.
It was time to get ready.
Chapter 20
It was dark when Dave made it back to the fiberglass box. He was tired and hungry and his mind was racing a hundred miles an hour.
He knew he’d have to be at the top of his game in the morning, when he went to war against the men on the farm.
But he also knew instinctively that he’d have a hard time getting to sleep. In his mind, he’d be going over a thousand different things. The game plan for his one-man guerilla warfare campaign. His hand to hand combat skills. The backup plans that Red convinced him could save his life should something go wrong. And even backup plans to the backup plans.
He unbolted the thumb screws on the fiberglass box and put his gear inside.
But he didn’t follow it. He had to unwind, and he knew he couldn’t do it in the tunnel.
When he was a kid, Dave ran away from home several times when times were tough. He did it when his grandfather died, telling his father, “I just have to get away. But don’t worry, I’ll be back.”
For two weeks, he camped out in the woods near their home, shooting squirrels with his .22 rifle and catching perch with his bamboo rod. Even at age eight, he was an expert outdoorsman, and although his absence drove his mother crazy, his father was at ease with the idea.
“He’s having a rough time of it. Let the boy be. If he needed us more than he needed his solitude, he wouldn’t have left. He’ll come back in due time.”
He did it again his junior year in high school, when the love of his life broke his heart. And a third time two weeks after graduation, when his best friend was struck and killed by a drunk driver.
For Dave Speer, the forest wasn’t a dark and foreboding place. It was an old and trusted friend. Especially in the night, when a thousand creatures came out to play under the slowly swaying treetops and the stars overhead.
It was relaxing. It had a calming effect on Dave that nothing else did.
Not even laying in his sweet Sarah’s arms, as pleasant as it was, could calm him down as much as lying in a patch of tall grass in a forest clearing, feeling a cool breeze wash over him and watching a squirrel jump from branch to branch.
After a while
Since he’d seen the rider disappear, he started formulating his plan, but first he had to wait until he made it around the property and onto its west side.
Once there, he confirmed that the rise was high enough to hide his activities from the next rider making his rounds. He also looked at the surveillance cameras on the outside corners of the farmhouse. One was pointing in the other direction. That was good.
One was pointing directly at the place where Dave would make his assault.
That was very, very bad.
But there was nothing he could do about it.
He couldn’t see the hayloft door on the big red hay barn from this location. That was good. If Dave couldn’t see the barn’s sentry, then the sentry couldn’t see Dave.
The best thing about his ambush point on the west side of the property were the intermittent shrubs along the outside of the fence line.
Dave had a lot of respect for his brother-in-law Tommy, both as a man and as a prepper.
But leaving the shrubs in place along the tree line was a serious mistake.
If the property were still in the hands of the good guys, the shrubs would have allowed marauders to sneak right up to the property and remain hidden from view.
Not that Dave could complain much.
For it would allow him to do the same thing,
He looked toward the west and saw that the sun was beginning to drop behind the tall pines.
It was time to go back.
It was time to get ready.
Chapter 20
It was dark when Dave made it back to the fiberglass box. He was tired and hungry and his mind was racing a hundred miles an hour.
He knew he’d have to be at the top of his game in the morning, when he went to war against the men on the farm.
But he also knew instinctively that he’d have a hard time getting to sleep. In his mind, he’d be going over a thousand different things. The game plan for his one-man guerilla warfare campaign. His hand to hand combat skills. The backup plans that Red convinced him could save his life should something go wrong. And even backup plans to the backup plans.
He unbolted the thumb screws on the fiberglass box and put his gear inside.
But he didn’t follow it. He had to unwind, and he knew he couldn’t do it in the tunnel.
When he was a kid, Dave ran away from home several times when times were tough. He did it when his grandfather died, telling his father, “I just have to get away. But don’t worry, I’ll be back.”
For two weeks, he camped out in the woods near their home, shooting squirrels with his .22 rifle and catching perch with his bamboo rod. Even at age eight, he was an expert outdoorsman, and although his absence drove his mother crazy, his father was at ease with the idea.
“He’s having a rough time of it. Let the boy be. If he needed us more than he needed his solitude, he wouldn’t have left. He’ll come back in due time.”
He did it again his junior year in high school, when the love of his life broke his heart. And a third time two weeks after graduation, when his best friend was struck and killed by a drunk driver.
For Dave Speer, the forest wasn’t a dark and foreboding place. It was an old and trusted friend. Especially in the night, when a thousand creatures came out to play under the slowly swaying treetops and the stars overhead.
It was relaxing. It had a calming effect on Dave that nothing else did.
Not even laying in his sweet Sarah’s arms, as pleasant as it was, could calm him down as much as lying in a patch of tall grass in a forest clearing, feeling a cool breeze wash over him and watching a squirrel jump from branch to branch.
After a while
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