Chapter 6Hiking North - Saturday, June 9th to Friday, June 15th
Clayton and Gnobbit sat on the edge of a three-sided shelter, both nibbling on a power bar. They were both staring in the same direction, straight ahead where a small steam babbled its way down the hillside. The rain continued to fall at a steady rate. Not too hard, but hard enough to soak through even the most expensive rain gear. The surrounding forest dripped and dribbled as they took respite from the constant din of raindrops on their hoods.
They had traveled 11.5 miles. They were taking it slow. In no hurry. This wasn’t a sprint, nor even a marathon. It was an expedition of an unknown length of time and a great distance. If they wanted to ensure they arrived at their destination, they had to try to avoid injury. They had stopped at Bull Gap to fill their water in a nice spring and continued along the ups and downs of the trail. The rain was a constant companion, but the temperature of the air was at a comfortable warmth. The exertion of the trail still had their clothes wet, but with sweat, not rain. The companions stopped at the turnoff for Whitley Gap Shelter and had a quick breakfast of some odds and ends that each had in their food bags. Clayton had a squashed honeybun and Gnobbit had found a nice poppy seed muffin that she gobbled down like a hungry child.
Onward they went. Taking each climb as it came. Not seeing another human at all but seeing and hearing the creatures and birds of the forest who didn’t mind the rain at all. Descending into a gap or two and crossing small forest roads, some old, some still in use, until they had come to Low Gap Shelter. That’s where they were now.
It was just a little past 1300 as they sat there on the edge of the shelter. Just enough to be out of the rain. Clayton looked around into the shelter. It was of descent size and looked pretty clean. A broom sat propped up in one corner and a shelter log sat in its mailbox like container attached to the wall. Clayton got up and pulled the log out of the box, then out of a large Ziploc bag.
The shelter log was one of those college composition books with black marble like printing on its covers. It appeared a bit weatherworn and tattered around the edges. Flipping through it, Clayton saw that it had many entries. He turned to the last entries.
“June 1st. Just stopping in for a quick bite then moving on. Heading north. Don’t know how far. - Signed, Ragged.” Clayton read aloud. “No one has been here, or at least signed the log for over a week. I wonder if there are other hikers out here. Doing the same thing we are.” He speculated.
“I know it's a little early in the day, but with the rain continuing and us being a bit soaked, maybe we should stay here tonight. It sure would be better than getting rained on out in the woods. I don’t think we could push it to the next shelter and the Guide doesn’t offer a lot of camping options.” The brush of the trail so far had thickened up a great deal. Poison ivy was the dominant plant that he could see as they walked along. Clayton was sure they could etch out a place to sleep anywhere along the trail, but finding a ready-made site makes packing up much easier and faster.
“I think that might be a good idea.” Gnobbit responded. “My feet are hurting a bit anyway. I think I may be getting a blister on my little toe from all the walking with wet feet. I’ve only been out here for a few days and I’m still getting my trail legs.”
“This is home for the night then.” Clayton said. He got up and moved his pack to one side of the shelter. He opened it up and took out his meager gear. Placing his sleeping pad down and his patrol bag on top of it. Gnobbit moved to the other side of the shelter and started her nightly set up as well. She had a small tent that she would need to set up, so she put that aside. Next out was her food bag and cook kit. A small bag of clothes and another small stuff sack with odds and ends followed the other gear to the shelter floor. She reached in and pulled out a deflated sleeping pad and a down quilt. She blew up the pad and placed the quilt on the pad. Lastly, she pulled out a small blow-up pillow. The set up looked pretty comfortable considering.
They spent the rest of the day lounging around in the shelter. Gnobbit had brought a small paperback book from the hostel and had started to read it. Clayton looked through his copy of his AT Guide. Studying what was ahead and making some calculations on mileage. They had a long way to go and would need to figure out how to resupply along the way. Road crossings were now possibly dangerous places and who knows what the situations were like in the upcoming trail towns.
“So, what’s your story Gnobbit?” Clayton asked as they were lounging in the shelter and the rain drummed a steady rhythm on the green metal roof.
“My real name is Carly. I’m 19 and just finished my sophomore year at Georgia State University. I’m majoring in Criminal Science. When the semester finished, I hung around at home for about a week or so then headed to Springer Mountain to start hiking north for two or three weeks. I was hoping to get to the beginning of the Smokies where my family was going to pick me up. When this thing started, my phone died, and I was unable to call home or make contact with anyone. My family knows I’m out here, but not really where. I can actually walk home using the A.T., because Pearisburg is right next to the trail. So, I guess that is what I’m going to do.” She looked over at Clayton to gauge his reaction. He was looking at her with a strange, shiny gleam in his eye.
“My daughter is about your age. I bet your family is as worried about you as I am about her, her brother and their mother. We will get you home. I promise.” Clayton vowed.
As the sun was heading towards its setting, which they couldn’t actually see as the sky was still full of clouds and rain, they once again prepared their meal for the evening. Clayton decided to finish off his last MRE meal. It was Tuscan Beef. He still had one heater left, so he didn’t have to fire up his alcohol stove tonight, saving precious fuel. Gnobbit boiled up a pack of ramen, adding some bacon bits to the mix to provide a little protein and to improve the flavor.
They didn’t even attempt to make a fire; the woods were soaking wet; the air was a tolerable temperature and even though they were in a secluded area; they didn’t want to take the chance of attracting attention to the smoke and smell of a fire.
As darkness descended on the shelter area, the two lone hikers rolled into their sleeping gear and let the night take them. The rain appeared to be letting up, but the forest still dripped and spattered. Clayton was checking his guide one more time with his red light as he heard small snores come from the other side of the shelter. I think we can do about 15 miles or so tomorrow. He thought to himself. Once again, he wondered how his family was doing up north in Virginia. Sleep took him after that. A restless slumber, full of scary dreams of people shooting at him and searching for him as he ran along a shady path in a deep wood.
Morning dawned with a brightness that had been completely missing the day before. The forest had a freshly washed appearance. The smell of the forest reminded Clayton of laundry on a clothesline. There was still a lot of dampness all around, but the sun would work hard to dry things out throughout the day. The two companions went through their morning routine and were packed and ready to go around 0730.
Clayton took the lead as they left the shelter area and turned right, back onto the trail. The morning’s trail was relatively easy. There were no steep climbs or descents. They filled their bottles at the stream in front of the shelter and there were several springs and streams along the way where they could top off their bottles as they needed to. The filter Clayton had found was being put to good use. The gradual climb of the day eventually brought them to another shelter on top of Blue Mountain. The wind was blowing across the mountain top, but they still took the time to stop at the shelter and take a break. When they continued on, the trail made its way down the mountain to Unicoi Gap, where a paved road made its way through the gap. They carefully came down the trail and sat for a few minutes where they could see the road and check out the scene.
Across the road was a large parking lot. The trail went through the lot before heading up a few stone steps on the other side where it started to climb the next mountain. They hadn’t heard any traffic on the road as they approached and now, they saw that two cars sat in the parking lot but didn’t see any people in the area.
Carefully they came down to the road, crossed it and headed towards the cars. One of the cars was old looking with a generous amount of rust around the fenders. Gnobbit checked the door, and it was unlocked. She did a quick check inside and popped the trunk. The car had nothing that would help them on their journey. The other vehicle, a fairly new SUV, was locked, but it also appeared to not contain anything that they would need or want. It had already come down to survival of the fittest. If Gnobbit could get into something and it contained items that could be put to use, they were going to take it with silent thanks to the provider who had no idea they had taken it.
They moved along the lot and started towards the steps. There was a kiosk to the left at the edge of the lot. Gnobbit spotted a small, blue cooler sitting behind the support of the kiosk. “What’s this we have here?” she queried as she changed direction and headed to the billboard that contained information of the trail and general area. She moved past a sign that said Free Rides to Franklin, Call Scooter, 828-876-9305.
Gnobbit went to the cooler and opened it up. She peered inside for a few seconds then reached in and brought out a can of Coke, a smile crossing her pleasant features. She reached in with her other hand and pulled out a can of some local obscure beer, water dripping off the can and making a clinking sound as it returned to the cooler. “Thirsty?” she asked.
Clayton walked over and took the offered beer, cracking it open he replied, “Always.” He took the can and drained it in one long series of swallows, the can tilting up higher and higher until it was completely inverted, and the can was empty. “Ahhhhh,” Clayton said with a long sigh, followed by a burp.
Gnobbit laughed and started drinking her refreshment at a more ladylike pace. “The ice is melted, and the water is barely cool, but this is the best damn Coke I have had in a long time.” She took another long drink and held the can to her forehead, trying to soak in a little of the vague coolness.
They sat for a bit enjoying the day and the trail magic they had discovered, then deposited the empty cans into a trash can on the other side of the kiosk and hefted their packs once again.
They headed up the steps. This mountain was named Rocky Mountain. They would be re-climbing all the elevation they had just lost coming down Blue Mountain. Around 1000 feet or so. “Well, this mountain ain’t gonna climb itself.” Clayton announced as he hitched his pack up on his shoulders, tightened his hip belt and continued up the stone and wood steps back into the forest.
The climb was a bit steep in places, but it was manageable. They just took their time and kept putting one foot in front of the other. Both had a good sheen of sweat soaking their clothes when they determined that they were nearing the top of the mountain.
As they walked along, they started to smell smoke. Wood smoke it was, which probably meant someone up ahead had a fire going. They stopped on the side of the trail to discuss options. They decided to continue on slowly, with Clayton in the lead. Ready to retreat or fight if necessary.
The trail curved around to the left with the underbrush pretty thick at the top of the mountain. As they drew closer to what he could tell was an established campsite, he first saw the source of the smoke smell. A fire was burning in a stone fire ring. It was going pretty well. With a crack and a pop every couple of seconds along with a shower of sparks that rose up into the air a few feet before disappearing. A man was sitting in front of the fire with his back to the sneaking hikers. He was dressed in a black hoodie fleece and gray pants. The hood was up on his head, leaving his face in the shadows. To his right was a greenish tarp strung between two trees. Under the tarp hung a dark brown hammock.
Clayton continued to approach the man at a slow pace that he considered silent. Gnobbit was right behind him, being even more quiet on her feet. When they were about fifteen meters away, the man spoke without turning in his seat in front of the fire. “Come join the fire. I’ve been waiting for you.” He said. “I hope you are hungry. I have plenty of food and would like to share some with you.” He added.
Clayton stood up straight in surprise. He hadn’t seen the man turn his eyes to them at all. It is like he had just sensed our presence. He continued walking into the campsite. “I think we will have a visit if it’s ok. I’m Fic and this is Gnobbit. We’re heading north.”
“I’m Brown Shades.” He said, finally turning his face toward them. He appeared to be about 50 years old. Had a thick and somewhat long gray beard and was wearing what looked like brown colored sunglasses. “I too am heading north. The world has gone to shit, and I need to get back to my car in Damascus. Then, hopefully, I can get back to Pennsylvania, where I live.” Brown Shades picked up a stick from a pile he had next to the fire and placed it on the fire, eliciting another shower of sparks.
“Gnobbit is heading back to Pearisburg, Virginia, and I need to get up to Northern Virginia. A place called Millwood.” Clayton said.
“I haven’t seen another hiker in four days or so. I was beginning to think I was the only one still out here, but I had a feeling someone would arrive before too long. I wouldn’t mind the company on this trek. Do you mind if I join up?” He asked one of his eyebrows raising in a Spock-like gesture to emphasis the request. “When we get back to my car, I can drive you from there to your destinations. If that is still something that is possible.” He offered.
“It would be a pleasure to have you along.” Clayton replied as Gnobbit nodded her agreement. “The more the merrier.”
“Looks like the beginnings of a Tramily.” Said Gnobbit.
“Tramily?” Clayton looked at her puzzled. Brown Shades just smiled and waited for her to explain.
“Yes, Tramily. Trail plus Family, Tramily. It’s what we call a group of people out here who hike together. That’s us.”
“Do you have any idea what has happened?” Clayton continued his conversation with the interesting man.
“Not really.” Brown Shades replied. “Like I said, I haven’t talked to anyone in a while and the last people I talked to down at the outfitters were as clueless as me. I started my hike at Springer Mountain last Sunday. I’m a science teacher at a small high school in PA. We finished classes on the 1st, I drove down to Damascus the next day, parked my car, then got a shuttle down to the parking lot at the bottom of the mountain. On Tuesday, I was sleeping in the stone shelter up on Blood Mountain when I was awakened by the bright sky to the south. The next morning, I headed down the mountain to Mountain Crossings at Neels Gap.”
“The store had no power, but they were still open. They asked me if I had seen or heard anything and after I mentioned the bright light coming from the Atlanta area, they all grew concerned. After discussing a few likely and unlikely scenarios, I purchased a bunch of food, paying cash, since their registers weren’t working, and I headed up here to camp for a few days and think about what to do next.”
“Mountain Crossings has been looted or robbed or something and when we left there, it was on fire. Some guys dressed in army camo and driving Humvees did the looting and torching. I don’t know who they are, but they aren’t legit army. At least not the army I belong to.” Clayton shared.
“Hmm, that’s interesting. So, you’re army then, huh?” Brown Shades replied. A serious look reflected in his dark eyeglasses.
“Yes, I am.” Clayton said. I have nineteen years in. I retire next year. “My watch group and I were on a survival training mission when all this went down. We lost a couple men to the army guys.” Clayton used air quotes to emphasize the word army. “Then I was separated from the rest when we were attacked by some locals, our uniforms making them think we were the bad guys.” Next Clayton recounted finding new clothes and the conversation he and Gnobbit had overheard in the Hostel. Brown Shades listened intently, nodding here and there.
“I always had a bad feeling about that Flaherty guy,” Brown Shades said. “He has been causing trouble in the government for several years now. I wonder if he finally found a way to take over.” The two nodded their heads in agreement and uncertainty.
“So, what shall we have for dinner?” Brown Shades moved on to the next subject. “Like I said, I still have a lot of food and if we are moving on, I would like to try to lighten my load a bit. How about some Backcountry Jambalaya?” He suggested.
“That sounds like it would be good.” Clayton responded. “Do you need any of the ingredients?”
“No, I have everything we need.” Brown Shades said. He went over to his hammock and opened the pack that was sitting underneath the tarp on a piece of black plastic. He removed a very large bag. He reached in again and pulled out a brown stuff sack and brought them both over. From the brown sack, Brown Shades produced a fairly large pot that had a lid to go with it.
He also pulled out a very long-handled spoon. From the other bag he pulled out a large Ziploc of rice, a pouch of chicken and a whole summer sausage. He also pulled out a smaller Ziploc that had a brownish red powder in it. It looked mysterious.
As he started preparing the meal’s ingredients, a sharp gleam came to his eye. You could tell he was in his element.
The process reminded Clayton of a wizard preparing a most elaborate potion.
The Chef poured some water into the pot from a Smart Water bottle and placed it in some hot coals that had been moved away from the main fire. The coals were hot and glowing and very quickly you could see steam starting to come off of the water’s surface. He measured out a few cupfuls of rice and poured it into the water. Next, he opened the pouch of chicken and added that to the pot. He cut up half of the summer sausage with a small knife that he kept around his neck and he finished it off with two heaping spoonfuls of the brownish red powder. “This is my Bag of Seasons. It has all manner of flavorful things, like gravy mix, taco powder, onion soup and a few other things. I put this stuff is everything.” He explained. The concoction was soon steaming and bubbling nicely.
Brown Shades grabbed his green bandana that was through the belt loop of his pants and used it as a potholder to pull the pot out of the fire. They let it sit for a couple minutes, then Brown Shades spooned a good portion into each of the other hiker’s pots. They each took a spoonful of the rice and meat dish. Clayton and Gnobbit looked at each other as their eyebrows raised and a smile spread across their faces.
“Yum.” Gnobbit interjected.
“I wholeheartedly agree.” Clayton added to the praise. Brown Shades sat back with his own spoonful of the Jambalaya, smiling his own smile. “I knew you guys were coming,” he said mysteriously. When everyone was done with the main course, they found out Brown Shades wasn’t quite done. From his food bag he produced three small, rectangular, brownies. They had colorful pieces of candy on top. “These are Cosmic Brownies.” Announced Brown Shades. “I believe they have magical tendencies. At least they taste magical to me.”
The three hikers ate their dessert, each relishing the sweet chocolate goodness. “These are pretty good, Brownie.” Gnobbit said, shortening Brown Shades’ name to fit the occasion.
“My pleasure.” He responded. “I still have quite a few of them in my bag.”
Clayton and Gnobbit set up their sleeping gear and then headed back to the fire pit. The threesome sat around the fire, relaxing. Putting a log on occasionally, but mainly just staring into the flames. Clayton noticed that as the day darkened, Brown Shades’ glasses lightened into regular clear glasses. They were auto-tint eyeglasses.
As they sat enjoying the fire, Brown Shades reached into his pocket and pulled out a small packet of something. He pretended to wave his hands over the brightly burning fire, dropping the packet into the fire. After a few seconds the fire’s color turned from a bright yellow, to a striking shade of violet.
“Whoa.” Gnobbit exclaimed. “How did you do that?” She asked.
“Why magic of course.” replied Brown Shades, smiling and winking at her as he said it. “Actually, the violet was caused by potassium chloride. In this case salt substitute. My bride, god rest her soul, had me using it instead of the real thing. My blood pressure, you understand.” He explained.
“I like the magic explanation better.” She giggled. “Can you do other colors?”
“I just might, but not tonight. I think it is time I headed to my hammock and get some sleep. If we are hiking again in the morning, I will need to rest up.”
Each of the hikers headed to their respective sleeping area. Brownie to his hammock, Gnobbit to her small tent and Fic to his bivvy that he had set up under a bush.
Darkness came to the camp once again. And with it the night insects came out to announce their everlasting quest for a mate. Another day on the trail was done.
As Clayton quickly drifted off to sleep, his body became very still. As the last visages of consciousness faded, he realized he was starting to dream.
The night was very dark, and he sat up looking around. The wind had picked up and made the sparks blow off the dwindling fire. He looked down at his body and he wasn’t wearing the clothes he went to sleep in. He had on a chain-mail vest over a padded linen shirt and thick leather pants. His boots went almost to his knees, and he had bracers on his forearms. Belted to his side was a large sword. Next to his sleeping pallet, was a steel helmet with a sigil of a globe with wings sprouting out of its sides.
He looked over at his sleeping companions. They were no longer in a tent or hammock, but had pallets like his on the ground around the fire. Gnobbit was still dressed all in black, but the clothes looked rougher. Homespun like. Her top had a deep hood that was raised over her hair, but you could still see her delicate features. Her belt now held a small sword about ten inches long. She stirred in her sleep and the hood pulled back, revealing pointed ears.
Fic looked over at Brown Shades and he now wore a long, brown robe that reached all the way to his feet. Beside his pallet lay a long staff that had a large crystal embedded into its ornate top. The crystal gave off a low blue glow. His beard was still gray, but now hung down almost to his stomach.
The wind blew across the mountain top and rustled the underbrush all around. When the wind abated for a bit, Fic could still hear the rustling. It was coming from the forest right in front of him. He stared into the darkness and saw two red points glowing back at him. As he stared at the lights, his hand went to the haft of his blade. Another set of glowing lights appeared next to the first pair. Then a third set on the other side. A low growl came from the lights. They started moving closer.
The wind blew again and stirred the coals of the dying fire and kindled a small flame. As the light grew and Fic could see three men standing above the lights. The men looked strange. Not men at all, but more like strange beasts. If he had to name them, it would have been Goblin or Orc. They were disfigured and huge. Ragged clothes hung on their shoulders, and they had chains in their hands. The chains ran to the red lights which now became giant wolves. The growl grew louder, and he could see their teeth and the saliva dripping off the large fangs.
He tried to shout to his companions, to wake them. To warn them, but no sound came out of his mouth. The beasts started to advance on him. He drew his sword and tried to shout again. This time a small squeak came from his mouth, but it wasn’t loud at all. The monster on the left dropped his chain and the beast came charging at Fic.
He swung his sword with an expert stroke, even though he had never held a sword in his life before. The sword sliced cleanly through the wolf’s head. Removing it from the charging body. The body fell to the ground, twitching in agony and the head rolled into the underbrush.
Fic turned once again to warn his new friends and he saw that Gnobbit was no longer in her bed but had disappeared. Brown Shades was rising up from his pallet and grabbing his staff at the same time.
Fic turned to see once again he was being charged. This time it was the other two wolves. A flash of purple light came from over his right shoulder and the beasts burst into a purple flame. Frying them to a crisp instantly. Fic looked back to see Brown Shades standing there and pointing his staff at the attackers. The crystal on the end of the staff now glowing brightly.
Movement caught Fic’s attention at the edge of the clearing next to the Orcish fiends. A small dark figure came running behind the three brutes. Fic saw the flash of a small blade as it was whipped across the hamstrings of all three monsters. They let out a scream as they all collapsed to the ground.
There was a great flash. This time from all around and the dead and dying attackers disappeared from sight. Fic stood staring. He heard a voice behind him that said, “Beware the Beast of the Apocalypse,” and he fell to the ground unconscious.
Clayton came awake with a start as the wind whipped across the mountain top. He could hear it ripping along Brown Shades’ tarp as it gusted and blew. Everything was as it should. He was in his bivvy, Gnobbit was in her tent and Brown Shades hammock rocked in the wind. The dream stayed fresh in his mind for several minutes, then started to fade as he fell once again into an uneasy sleep.
When morning came, all was calm. The trio of hikers each came out of their slumber in their own time. Brown Shades was up first, stoking the fire just a bit to get some water going for coffee. Clayton was next. Packing up his gear and grabbing another power bar for his breakfast. Gnobbit rolled out last, and she too started packing up her things. They each drank some coffee and talked a little about the day’s plan as they let the fire die to embers. “I had the strangest dream last night,” Gnobbit said. Clayton looked up at her with a piercing stare and he noticed that Brown Shades was looking intently at her too with a strange expression on his face.
“What was it about?” Clayton asked.
“It’s all kinda fuzzy now,” Gnobbit said. Then she went on to explain a dream that was weirdly similar to Clayton’s.
When she completed her description, Clayton only said, “Yeah, that is kind of strange.” Brown Shades looked at the two of them and remained silent. Clayton could tell that his mind was working overtime and wondered if he too had a similar dream.
Clayton decided that he wasn’t going to say anything just yet about his dream. It was just a coincidence.
When all were ready, they stirred the coals, added a bit of water and made sure the fire was out.
Each hefted their pack. Snapping the buckles and adjusting the straps. Brown Shades took a large, strait stick, it appeared to be made of oak. This was his walking stick. “I call this The Staff.” Brown Shades explained. “I have had it many years and have hiked many miles using it to help steady me and move me along.”
Looking at The Staff, Clayton was reminded of his dream. Glancing at Gnobbit, he saw her looking intently at the long stick too. Clayton shook his head to clear it, and started walking.
The small Tramily started down the trail. Heading back down the mountain, crossing a forest service road then heading back up Tray Mountain. The day had become rather pleasant. There was a slight breeze that would come up the trail or along the ridge that would cool them and dry a little of their sweat and large, puffy, white clouds floated along the sky. From time to time hiding the sun for a short period, then releasing it to shine once again until the next cloud would arrive.
They took a short break at the shelter and refilled their water bottles before continuing on to the next challenge. Here the trail traveled along a ridge top for several miles. The ups and downs were short and gradual, but the day was still tough.
Stopping at Sassafras Gap for lunch, the group each took a little nap, and all felt refreshed for the rest of the day. The last two days had been a little shorter than planned due to the rain and meeting new friends, so today they were going to try to do at least 15 miles.
When they passed Deep Gap Shelter, they knew that they would be able to finish the planned mileage for the day. The day was getting late, and the sun was once again heading towards the mountain horizon when they came to a paved road at Dicks Creek Gap.
“The Guide mentions a hostel just a half mile down the road, that has resupply. Do you think we should check it out?” Clayton asked.
“I could use a few more items in my food bag. I’m also running low on TP. I would be good to stock up on some so I don’t have to resort to using leaves,” said Gnobbit. “I’m game to check it out.”
“I still have quite a bit of food, but I’m all for checking it out. I’ve been cooking with the fire the last couple of days to save my fuel, but if we can find another canister or two of that, I wouldn’t mind picking it up.”
“Let’s go then.” Clayton said as he started walking down the road. “If we hear any vehicles, we should probably get off the road until we see who it is.” He cautioned. His companions nodded their heads in agreement.
After walking on a trail all day, it always seems painful to walk on simple asphalt and today was no exception. All three had a little hobble as they came to the long, uphill driveway that led to the Hostel. There was a sign at the beginning of the driveway, next to a cluster of mailboxes. Northern Georgia Hostel and Hiking Center, it displayed.
Carefully, the three hikers walked up the driveway. They could see the building and it appeared that no one was around. Hanging from the top of the porch was a yellow sign that said, Welcome Hikers. The doors were closed, but there was no sign indicating whether it was open or closed. The neon Open sign was unlit in the window. At least it didn’t appear to have been looted or torched.
Brown Shades walked up to the door and knocked. Clayton cringed internally, but after thinking about it. It couldn’t hurt. Unless there was someone inside with a shotgun or worse.
After a couple of minutes, the curtain of the window next to the door twitched. “We’re closed.” They heard a voice from inside announce. “We were just wondering if we could get a little resupply. We are running low on food and sundries and need to replenish.” Brown Shades explained. “We won’t take long and we have money.” He added.
“Have you guys seen any army men around?” The disembodied voice asked.
“Yes, but not for several days. We are trying to lie low as we make our way north and home.”
After another three minutes of silence, just as Gnobbit was getting ready to suggest they leave, a bolt turned in the door and it opened a crack. In the crack they could see a man peeking out at them. From what they could see, he had glasses and had a sparse beard. On his head, he wore a green bandana. He opened the door wider and said, “Quick, get in.”
The hikers moved inside, still wearing their packs. The room they were in was spacious, with high ceilings, A small kitchen to their right, some tables and benches to their left and a couple sofas further back. The room was dim in the late afternoon light. There was no electricity here either.
“Do you know what is going on?” The man asked.
Each of the three told their stories of how they had come to be on the trail as the world was going insane. Clayton conveniently left out the fact that he was active duty army. The guy seemed to be very skittish, so he didn’t want to make it worse.
“I’m Bob.” He introduced himself. “Mr. Hikes-a-lot when I’m on the trail. I own the place.” He added. “The army came by and I thought they were going to trash the place, but for some reason, they didn’t. I don’t know why.”
“There’s definitely something strange going on.” Clayton said. “We have been trying to figure it out since it started.”
“I have some food and our hiker box also had a lot of stuff in it that you can have. Whatever you need, I’ll give you.” Bob said. “You guys are the first hikers who have come here since last Tuesday. I want to help.”
Bob showed them the hiker box and they were able to find quite a bit of food in there. There was also a half roll of toilet paper that Gnobbit took for her needs after the other two rolled several handfuls off for themselves. In the bottom of the box, Clayton found a small tarp. “This will work for keeping the rain off my face when I’m in my bivvy.” He stated. Putting the tarp into an outside pocket of his pack.
Bob also had some food and gear in his store. They each took a few Mountain House meals, some ramen and several Clif Bars and power bars. Each of them also took a canister of fuel. and Clayton picked up his own Pocket Rocket stove. Clayton offered to pay for the food, but Bob refused to take their money. “I just want to help.” Was all he would say.
They filled their water bottles from the kitchen sink, thankful that his water was still running. Everything was packed and ready to go. All of their packs were rather heavy now.
“I would offer to let you stay the night, but I don’t think it’s safe here.” Bob said. “I think the army guys are going to come back. I really think it would be bad if you were here when they do.” The man seemed on the verge of tears.
“That’s ok, Bob.” Clayton said. “We will just head up to the campsite a mile up the trail. We should be fine there.”
“I can drive you back to the trail, if we hurry.” Bob offered.
“That would be great.” Brown Shades replied.
They threw their packs into the back of a pickup truck that was parked around the back of the building and climbed into the crew cab. The ride back to the trail was quick and uneventful. The three hikers climbed out and thanked their host once again.
“Take care.” He said. “Be safe.”
The truck sped away quickly, making its way back to the safety of the secluded homestead.
The hikers donned their packs and started up the trail. As they moved away from the road, they heard some traffic coming from the opposite direction Bob had just driven. The vehicles sound large, and diesel powered. They crouched down on the trail and watched the convoy pass. The vehicles were humvees.
Clayton turned and started walking up the trail. The others followed. In twenty minutes, they came upon a small campsite with a few level spots, a small fire ring and about 200 meters away was a small stream flowing nicely. As they were finding their spots, they heard the sound of gunfire coming from far off. From the direction of the Northern Georgia Hostel and Hiking Center.
They set up their shelters as the last light of the day drained out of the nearby woods. It had been a long day, and the hikers were tired.
They ate a quick cold dinner, finishing the summer sausage on tortillas they had just picked up from the hiker box. They each retired to their sleeping spaces and started the nightly process of repairing the damage that walking all day inflicts on the body.
The following day broke gray and sullen. The ominous feeling of impending rain was all around. The group of three were packed up and fed by 0800. Another day of walking lay ahead of them.
They had been walking for a few hours. Gnobbit was in the lead. The trail had been heading up in elevation for the last few miles, but the climb had been gradual. Suddenly, Gnobbit stops and is staring at a tree right next to the trail. Clayton hurries to catch up.
Gnobbit is looking at a block of wood nailed to the tree. There is a piece of metal pipe below the block of wood that has grown into the side of the tree. Clayton looks at the small sign. It says NC/GA. They were walking out of Georgia.
“One state down, just a couple more to go.” Clayton said as Gnobbit nodded.
Brown Shades came up to the two hikers and checked out the sign. “Ah, North Carolina. I used to live in this state a while back, but I was down by the ocean. North Carolina is a long state. This mountain side is very different than the coastal shore.”
The threesome continued on, and the rest of the day was just like any other day on a hike. The forest was darker than usual, with the overcast sky, but the animals still moved and made their noises. For a few seconds, it seemed that the world hadn’t gone all to shit. The day wore on and the miles passed under their feet.
They arrived at Standing Indian Shelter around 1500. They all felt good but were ready to stop for the day. The shelter was typical for the area. There was an extended roof in the front of the three sided shelter and a wooden table in the middle of that space made from thick slabs of wood and large logs as legs. On one side a bench with a back was built between two log supports for the roof.
The three hikers picked spots and unpacked their packs. The rest of the day was spent snacking, eating and resting. As they sat in the shelter, the rain that had been threatening all day long started to fall. Darkness came, the hikers slept, and all seemed well in the woods.
The morning came, and with it, the rain departed for a time. The hikers stirred, rolled out of their bags, and once again started the daily chore of taking all you had and stuffing it into a small container that would be carried all day long.
Breakfast today was oatmeal, prepared in Brown Shades’ pot. They each had grabbed several packets of oatmeal from the hiker box at the Northern Georgia Hostel and each contributed a packet or two. The concoction turned out to be a mixture of cinnamon, apples and peaches, which tasted delightful.
Once all was cleaned up and ready to go, the small group headed out of the shelter area and back to the trail.
The first task of the morning was to finish climbing Standing Indian Mountain. As they made their way up the path. First using some decent switchbacks, then a long steady climb, Brown Shades told them a story.
“Back in the days when the Cherokee still called this place home, a winged monster lived on this mountain, which the tribe called Yunwitsule-nunyi, and would swoop down from the skies and steal children. A warrior was sent up the mountain to keep a lookout for the beast where he found his lair.” Brown Shades began, earning the other’s rapt attention. There was a large tree that had fallen next to the trail and both Gnobbit and Clayton sat, waiting for Brown Shades to continue.
“The warrior prayed to the Great Spirt for assistance and his prayers were answered with thunder and lightning which destroyed the monster and its lair. The warrior was so afraid of all this that he abandoned his post and was turned to stone for his cowardice.”
“They say his stone body still is up here somewhere.” Brown Shades added mysteriously. The group continued on. Both Clayton and Gnobbit kept looking into the woods as they moved along the trail, looking for that warrior from long ago.
The rest of the day had modest ups and downs until later in the day when they came to a rather steep jumble of rocks where the trail continued right up the side. As they started up the cliff, they could see the top of a fire tower up ahead. They were near the one hundred mile mark of the trail and this was the Albert Mountain Fire Tower.
The crew generated some good sweat getting up that last bit and took a much-earned break. They were close to their goal for the day and still had plenty of daylight left. They dropped their packs and looked up at the tower.
“I wonder if the door is open up there.” Said Gnobbit. Moving towards the steps and starting up.
Clayton and Brown Shades looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders, moving to follow the little thief. When they got up to the top of the tower, the door to the shelter like space on the top of the tower was open and Gnobbit was inside looking back to the south, where they had come from.
“Was it unlocked?” Clayton asked Gnobbit.
“It’s open now, that is all that matters.” She responded with a sly smile on her face.
The space was interesting. There was a walkway all the way around the building. Each wall of the shelter had four large, eight paned windows, spanning the full length of the wall. It was basically wall to wall, windows. The rest of the walls were painted white, and the floor was a nice-looking wood flooring. The view was spectacular. You could see very far in every direction. Each ridge rose beyond the one before it until it faded off into the mists of the day.
They were standing out on the walkway, admiring the grandeur of their view when they heard voices. They looked down into the clearing at the bottom of the tower where their packs lay along a fence. Three hikers came out of the woods from the north. They looked around, saw the packs, then all three, at the same time, looked up to the tower top.
One of the men, short and scruffy looking, with a good growth of beard and a red Boston Red Sox cap, raised his hand in greeting. The other two, went over to where the other packs were and dropped their own next to them.
Clayton, Gnobbit and Brown Shades all returned the wave and started down the steps, eager to meet the first new hikers they had seen in two days and wanting to hear their story.
“Hi, I’m Fic.” Clayton introduced himself to the three hikers. “This is Gnobbit and that wizardly looking man is Brown Shades.” He included the others in his introduction.
“I’m Kudzu. This is Coffeebreak, and that’s Grey Goose.” He pointed to the other two hikers in turn. The first, Coffeebreak, was tall, about six three, and pretty skinny. He had bright, blond hair and his chin fuzz was hardly noticeable. Grey Goose was an average looking guy. His hair was a dark brown along with his eyes. His short beard appeared to be well groomed and trimmed. A stylish look. All three of the men looked to be in their mid-twenties.
Kudzu, in addition to the red cap with a B on it, would be considered on the shorter side of the height table. His jet black hair was long, down to his shoulders and as straight as could be. His eyes had the telltale almond shape of Asian descent. The smile on his face made one want to smile along with him.
“We haven’t seen any other hikers in several days. It is sure nice to see y’all.” His southern accent was quite thick. “Do y’all know what’s goin on?” He asked.
“There are a lot of missing pieces, but it appears that the country has been attacked and the army has been corrupted or infiltrated.” Clayton began. “That Flaherty guy seems to be involved somehow. Other than that, we aren’t quite sure what is going on. We have been avoiding towns and are careful crossing roads, as it seems the enemy is all over the place. Just two nights ago, we saw some at Dicks Creek Gap and heard gunfire shortly after.” Clayton added.
“We were in the Smokies when this all went down. We really didn’t know anything was amiss until we got to Clingmans Dome and talked to a scared, young ranger, who told us what he knew, which wasn’t much. At that point, we all decided to keep hiking south, towards home.” Kudzu told his story. “We all live in the same town outside of Atlanta, grew up together, and had come out to hike from Hot Springs, down to Springer. We are still doing that, but now we have been trying to move faster and further each day. We are worried about our families.”
Clayton told them what he had seen in the early morning of June 6th and also what they had heard at Mountain Crossings. He warned them to be careful as they got close to Atlanta, explaining that he thought the bright light was an atomic bomb of some sort.
“We still gotta go, no matter what the danger.” Explained Kudzu. “We need to find our families.”
They all sat together, under the tall tower, talking about things and everyone eating a small snack of some kind. Exchanging information about what to expect on the trail and at the road crossings.
“Be careful at the NOC.” Said Coffeebreak. “We saw some scary things when we went through there. There was a group of marauders in the parking lot during the day. We saw them attack a girl. We were up on the hillside hiding but had a clear view of the bridge and around it. They eventually disappeared, and we waited until dark and moved through the area quickly back up the other side.”
The SOBO trio grabbed their packs and prepared to continue on. The NOBO three did the same. They said their goodbyes and wished each other luck. Both moved back into the woods away from the tower. Moving away from each other, both a little more knowledgeable about what was ahead, but still not completely sure of what to expect.
They walked two more miles and arrived at the Long Branch Shelter. The shelter was empty of course, with no sign of any usage in the recent past.
Brown Shades put his hammock up just to the right of the shelter, where two perfectly spaced trees offered their support. “My back would rather hang in the air than spend another night sleeping on wood.” Brown Shades declared. “I’m much happier after a good night’s sleep.”
The other two elected to sleep in the shelter. It made the morning’s breakdown a little easier, and that was ok. The shelter had an upper loft, and that is where Gnobbit decided to spread out her bag. “I like to have a good vantage point.” Was how she explained it.
The rest of the evening was routine. Each of the hikers gathered some down wood from the surrounding forest and Brown Shades had a nice fire going just before dark. After everyone had eaten their chosen dinners, he pulled out a packet of tortillas and some Nutella. He spread the Nutella on the tortillas, folded them in half then placed them on a rock next to the fire. This warmed the chocolate, nutty quesadilla which was pleasantly rewarding to the hikers as Brown Shades passed pieces around to his Tramily. “Gotta have a good dessert after a long day of hiking.” He stated, as he took a bite of the sweet concoction.
The wind started to pick up as dark settled on the shelter area. The hikers retired to their sleeping bags. Hoping that the next day would not bring any dangers or unexpected challenges.
Just as the forest was starting to lighten into a new day, a light rain started falling on the shelter. The light tinkling of the drops on the metal roof woke the hikers. Gnobbit, being closer to the roof, was the first to roll out of her sleeping bag. She grabbed her gear and climbed down the ladder to the lower level. She got out her stove and started heating water for tea. While it was heating, she went over to the tree where they had hung their food bags and lowered them all down, bringing them to the shelter.
Clayton took a few moments to get his joints warmed up. It seemed like every single one was stiff as a board. He threw on his rain jacket, grabbed his bag of TP and hobbled like an old man towards the privy. After that chore was done, he too got his alcohol stove out and started heating his water for some instant coffee packets he had picked up in the hiker box. He wanted to finish off the denatured alcohol he was carrying before he started using his butane stove.
Brown Shades hadn’t stirred in his hammock yet. They would see it move every once in a while, as he shifted around, but he didn’t seem ready to get the day started yet.
“Hey Brownie.” Shouted Gnobbit. “You gonna hike today?”
“I’m working on it.” Came the reply from the hanging hammock. “It’s just so comfortable in here.”
Soon, he too was sitting on the edge of his hammock putting on his boots loosely. He grabbed his cook kit and came over to the shelter to join in the morning ritual. “I think I will have some hot cider this morning. These packets looked like they had been in the box for a long time, but I like the flavor of the cider.”
After they each had enjoyed a hot beverage, and a light breakfast, they packed everything up and sat in the shelter, looking out at the light rain as it pattered off of the leaves high in the forest and dripped down to the ground. This felt like an all day rain.
Clayton eventually stood and grabbed his pack. “Well…” He started.
“This trail ain’t gonna walk itself.” Gnobbit interrupted and continued his usual mantra. She let out a laugh and winked at him.
Clayton smiled back and finished putting on his pack. “I didn’t know I was that predictable.” Was all he could say.
One by one, each of the hikers hefted their gear, placed it on their back and headed into the woods along the trail. Following the white blazes through the misty forest.
The day was a wet walk in the woods. Each hiker just kept putting one foot in front of the other, making miles and trying not to slip on a wet rock or root. There wasn’t much talking, just a lot of walking. They had a quick cold lunch at the Moore Creek Campsite when the rain stopped for a few minutes and then they continued on.
The original plan was to camp at a signed campsite after about 15 miles, but the rain started up again and started to fall harder than before, so they decided to continue on almost three more miles to the Wayah Bald Shelter.
When they went over the bald before getting to the shelter, there was a large stone fire tower standing in the rain. They had come to a paved road, and the trail followed it for a little while. The stone tower appeared out of the misty day like a medieval castle of old. They all walked up the stone steps to the observation area, but all they could see was white rain and clouds. It was as if they were on a stone ship sailing a sea of clouds.
They arrived at the shelter and the rain was still falling and the light of day was fading. They all changed out of their wet hiking clothes into something dry and just crawled into their sleeping bags to warm their bodies up. It had been a long, wet day, and they were glad the walking part was over for now.
A hot meal improved all of their moods and Brown Shades elected to stay in the shelter for the night. He was just too exhausted to put his hammock up and was the first to be snoring as they all curled in their down and tried to shake off the chill that had been driven into their bones by the wet day.
Morning dawned. The rain was gone. The forest once again having that freshly washed look and when the wind blew, drops would fall about the forest like a small hiccup of storm. The hikers stirred. The daily routine was starting to become well, routine. The hikers were up, packed, fed and ready to go while the sun peeked over the mountain to the east. “Yesterday made me pretty sore. It seems like I have an ache in every part of my body, especially my feet and legs.” Gnobbit offered.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sore too, but I think it was smart to push on to this shelter. It got us out of the rain and made today’s hike a little shorter.” Clayton replied. The trio had walked over 18 miles the day before. Today, they would do around fifteen to a shelter that is only one mile from the river that they would have to cross at a little cluster of buildings referred to as the N.O.C. It stood for the Nantahala Outdoor Center. It straddled the Nantahala River which was a very nice kayaking river. It had even been used for some competition when the Olympics were hosted in Atlanta several years ago.
Nantahala was a Cherokee word meaning Land of the noonday Sun. The valley was deep and the climb into and out of the area was steep. The name referred to that fact that when you are that deep into the valley, you can only see the sun around noon.
This day was a complete contrast from the day before. Where the morning was dark and sullen yesterday, today the sun was out, the birds were singing their morning ritual and the breeze that puffed and wandered through the forest held promise of a good hiking day.
That is how the day went. There was very little drama, just a day of walking, but there were highlights. They crossed a couple paved roads during the day. None of them had traffic on them and they would appear by surprise as they hiked along. Usually, the noise of traffic reveals the presence of a road, long before you can see it. No one was riding these remote, mountain roads. At least not now.
Wesser bald had its own fire tower. This one was higher than the stone structure from yesterday. The rickety steps went steeply up to the observation platform. Walking up the dozens of steps, which were very widely spaced, made tired leg muscles yell in distress. When the three hikers got to the top, they had a much better view of the spreading landscape. The wind was cutting along the top of the platform, so every once in a while, the group would sit below the railing, effectively blocking the wind. They ate a little snack and then looked around some more.
“I believe that little piece of water, near the horizon towards the north is Fontana Lake. Where our next major destination lies.” Brown Shades stated.
They all looked around. Clayton could see the town of Franklin off to the southeast. He remembered staying there during his hike. The town loved its hikers and catered to them a lot. A bus had picked him and a few other hikers up at a road crossing that they had already passed and would drop them wherever they wanted to go in town. After staying in a cheap motel for the night, the same bus brought you back. The driver, regaling you with stories of local lore and myth. I wish we could get a ride to some more food. Clayton thought. “It is time to resupply.” He announced to the other two.
“Yeah, and it sure would be nice to find a shower that worked, even if it's cold.” Gnobbit said. “We all have become quite ripe.” She added. Lifting her arm and pretending to take a whiff. Screwing up her face into a grimace to display her distaste.
They continued on and arrived at the A. Rufus Morgan Shelter in the late afternoon. They ate an early dinner, refilled their water bottles and relaxed as the sun moved towards the western mountain.
The plan was to wait until just before dark and head down the rest of the way to the river, get across. Maybe find some food and get out of the valley, back to the relative safety of the woods. Clayton remembered what Coffeebreak had told them about when his threesome had crossed the river. He was going to be very cautious as they approached made their way across the river and up the other side.
Darkness was approaching. The Tramily was ready. They each had their headlamps strapped to their heads but were going to try to avoid using them unless absolutely necessary.
They continued down the steep trail. Following the last few switchbacks that took the trail down to the road. The wide, paved road sat quietly waiting for them. The trail stopped at the road. To their left, behind a large sign that announced their arrival at the N.O.C, was a small building with a glass front. There was a large sign on the building declaring it the General Store. Across the road was a large wooden building whose sign read Outfitter S ore. The ‘t’ missing from the word Store. Both buildings looked like they had just barely survived a Black Friday sale. The windows were broken, and the doors were not where they were originally hung. They opted to check out the General Store first.
Carefully, they made their way over to the dark store. So far, the road had been quiet and empty. They stepped inside the store and started looking around. Turning on their red lights to see into the corners. The store had been gone over. It looked like an angry toddler had ran up and down the aisles, pulling everything off the shelves as he ran along.
They were quite lucky in their search. Whoever had done the looting here, had been sloppy. They were able to augment their food bags, and it was looking like they would have enough to at least get to the beginning of the Smokies. They would need more if they wanted to cross that mountain range without going hungry as opportunities to resupply up there would be more sparse.
Next, they crossed the road towards the Outfitters. Each running across the road separately, then waiting a couple of beats before the next hiker ran across. They had a strong feeling that someone might be watching, but there was no proof of that being true, just a feeling.
The Outfitter Store displayed the same tornado as the General Store. They were pretty much all set for gear at the moment, but Clayton found a nice pair of Darn Tough socks, which he added to his clothes bag. “You can’t have enough socks; we say in the army,” he said.
They picked through the rubble, and each found something that they might be able to use. Gnobbit found a long spoon like Brown Shades. She slipped it into her pack next to her cook kit. Brown Shades found a blow up pillow, like the one Gnobbit had and he tucked that into his pack.
They went over to the silent restaurant called The Rivers Edge. They looked through the place. It seemed to be less damaged than the other buildings, but it still had been entered and it sat silent next to the gurgling river. Brown Shades whispered, “Tatters.” holding up a small bag of large russet potatoes. He took three of them and left the rest. He also found an onion and a couple carrots. He added it all to his food bag and continued looking.
With food bags full and their adrenalin starting to drain out of their muscles some, they crossed the footbridge that spanned the river, and they were on the other side.
They followed the trail through a parking lot and across a railroad track. Rising up away from the river, the trail turned where a road ended and headed into the forest. To the right was a cluster of buildings that appeared to be rental cabins. They went over to check it out.
The buildings were nestled within a thick forest. It was hard to see from the trail, offering a good deal of privacy to its usual guests. They dropped their packs on the porch of one of the cabins. Birch Cabin said a sign hung above the door.
Clayton tried the door. It was locked. He looked over at Gnobbit and she was already moving off the porch and was heading around the corner of the building. This time there was no sound of breaking glass, but in three minutes, the door unlocked from the other side and there was Gnobbit, smiling at the door.
“The window was unlocked.” Was all she said. They came inside and looked around the place with their red head lamps. The cabin had a nice layout. They were in an open living room. There was a couch and two chairs arranged around a small coffee table. The walls were covered in a nice wood paneling that gave the room a warm feeling. To the right was a decent-sized kitchen. There was a short flight of steps beside the refrigerator that went back to three bedrooms and a bathroom.
The first bedroom had a nice queen-sized bed. Clayton looked to Brown Shades and asked. “Will this be a sufficient alternative to your hammock?”
“It will be just fine.” Replied Brown Shades, slipping off his pack and setting it beside the bed. They continued along the hall to the next room. This one had a bunk bed with the lower bed being a large double and the upper bed a twin.
“I’ll take this one if that’s cool.” Said Gnobbit. Clayton nodded his head, the red light moving up and down the wood panel of that room indicating his approval. She dropped her pack in that room and they passed the bathroom to check out the last room.
This room had two sets of twin bunks, each on one side of the room. “This one will suite me fine for the night.” Clayton said, repeating the pack dropping routine the other two had done.
Gnobbit had moved back out of the room and was checking the bathroom. “Hey guys, come here.” She spoke in a soft voice. The men came to see what she had found.
When they entered the room, Gnobbit was pointing to a small red light that was lit on a small panel connected to the wall. She turned on the faucet in the small sink and felt the water. “It's warm.” She said in an excited voice. “I’m taking a shower, out you go.”
The men exited the room and Gnobbit turned on the shower, starting to pull off her smelly hiking clothes before the door had closed. Five minutes later, while the men were unpacking their packs, she came out of the bathroom wrapped in a large white towel. “Oh my gosh.” She whispered. “That was awesome.” She was carrying her hiking clothes which were now wet and a little cleaner than before. “I did a little cowboy laundry while I was in there,” she added.
She went into her room and Clayton went over to Brown Shade’s room and told him he could go next. “Don’t mind if I do,” he said, grabbing his camp clothes and heading to the bathroom.
He too did some laundry as he washed about a week's worth of sweat and dirt off his body. He gave a little salute to Clayton when he come out of the bathroom, indicating it was his turn now.
Clayton went into the bathroom and turned on the water. It was still just as hot as when Gnobbit had turned it on. He looked at the panel with the red light. It had a small label on it that said on-demand hot water. There was some kind of power source around here that was providing electricity to this building. Still, they avoided turning on any of the house lights, for fear of attracting unwanted attention.
After everyone was feeling fresh and all their clothes were hanging on a piece of para chord that Gnobbit had strung across one side of the living room, they sat down at the large butcher-block table in the kitchen and prepared a small snack. As they were sitting there, nibbling on their snack, they heard approaching vehicles on the road across the river. It sounded like large trucks were coming down the road from the south. For several minutes they could hear the convoy passing the cluster of buildings of the N.O.C., but they all kept going.
Each of the hikers retired to their rooms and settled in for the night. Clayton was looking at his guide, checking to see how long it would take them to get to the Smokies, when he saw Gnobbit’s red light look into his room. “Can I sleep in here? I’m a little creeped out, sleeping in that room all alone.” She asked.
“Sure, Gnobbit. Pick a bed.” Clayton said, a slight smile on his lips.
“I’ll take the top bunk. I like my vantage point, ya know.” She threw her bag up on the bunk and climbed up the small ladder. Just as she settled herself, Brown Shade’s red light illuminated the room.
“I heard your voices and came to see what was up,” he said. He had his quilt in his hand.
“Gnobbit decided to sleep in here.” Clayton explained. “We have gotten used to being near each other. Watching each other’s back.”
“Room for one more?” Brown Shades asked.
“Of course, sir.” Was Clayton’s reply. Brown Shades placed his quilt on the lower bunk across from Clayton and climbed in.
The room quieted and slowly was replaced with soft snores as the exhausted hikers enjoyed the soft beds of a fine cabin. All was well for now. Clayton cupped his pouch in his hand as he slowly drifted off into slumber.