Chapter 8

The Smokies Saturday, Jun 16th to Friday, Jun 22nd

Light was coming in the windows of the small room where the three hikers had slept. They each had slept in due to the comfort of the beds and the tiredness of their bodies. Eventually all were up and each of them took another quick shower to help wake up and they weren’t sure when the next shower would happen. 

Reluctantly, the hikers threw on their packs and left the beautiful, comfortable cabin. They had a long way to go to get home, and this was the ultimate goal for each of them. The trail immediately started climbing as they left the N.O.C area and for the next six miles, that is all they did was climb. The day was pleasant enough, with some clouds making the sun hide from time to time, but the temperature was warm, but not hot and there was no sign of rain for now. 

They took a nice long break at Sassafras Gap Shelter and ate a warm lunch. Summer sausage cooked with real onions and potatoes. Brown Shades was the chef once again, and the hikers were silent as they shoveled the delicious food into their mouths. 

They slept in the Brown Fork Gap Shelter that night and hiked out early the next morning. Now they were walking along a ridge that overlooked the great Fontana Lake. Steadily losing elevation as the trail headed down towards the dam that held all this water back. 

The sun was shining and sparkling off the lake surface, appearing as diamonds through the trees as they continued walking. The trail led to a parking lot at a marina. They came out of the woods, blinking their eyes in the bright, early afternoon sun. They crossed a paved road then continued through a fringe of trees to the parking lot. There was a small building on their right which contained restrooms. After taking advantage of the facilities, they sat in a circle on the other side of the building away from the road and had a discussion.

“I have some food, but I don’t think it will be enough to get all the way through the Smokies.” Clayton stated.

“Yeah, I’m getting low too.” Added Gnobbit. Brown Shades nodding his head to indicate the same.

“There’s a store at the Fontana Lodge that may have something, but it’s two miles along that road we just crossed. There’s no guarantee that they would have anything, but we should try to get something more before climbing into those mountains.” Clayton stated seriously.

“We could stash our packs somewhere safe and hidden and walk there with just our food bags.” Brown Shades suggested. “Carefully check out the place and move in, wait until dark, or head back empty.”

They wandered around the marina for a bit and Gnobbit got inside a small bait shop near the water. She found some canned Spam and a few bags of chips that she divvied out to her hiking partners. “That’s a start, I guess.” She stated. 

There was a storage room at the back of the restroom building in between the men’s and women's and they stowed their packs there. Each grabbed a bag and their head lamps. They each had their knives and Brown Shades brought along his staff. 

They started walking along the road. It was your typical mountain road. Two lanes of blacktop with very little shoulder on each side. It twisted and turned as it made its way through the mountainous area. They had been walking for about thirty minutes when they turned a sharp bend. Up ahead was a fenced in transformer area with a few poles and transmission lines heading out from it. Across a small driveway was a small building and behind that a large wooden water storage tank. Sitting next to the building was a pickup truck. Inside the truck were two men. They looked surprised to see them, and quickly fumbled to get out of the vehicle, grabbing long guns as they did so.

The trio had become a little spread out as they walked along. Clayton was in the lead, with Brown Shades about twenty feet behind him. Gnobbit was about a hundred feet behind them, her pace had slowed on the hard, paved surface. 

“Where you two going?” The first man drawled as he held his shotgun at the ready. He was wearing faded, torn overalls and boots that appeared too large for his feet. His partner had on camo pants and a ratty-looking flannel shirt. On his head was a straw hat that had seen better days. 

Clayton looked back behind him and saw only Brown Shades. Gnobbit had disappeared. He tried to play innocent. “We are hikers, out for a couple days. We were just heading to Fontana Lodge to resupply. The phone down at the marina wasn’t working.” They hadn’t even tried the phone, thinking it probably wouldn’t be working and not wanting to draw attention to themselves, regardless. 

“Well, we can give you a ride. I’m gonna need to take those knives though.” He said, raising the shotgun towards Clayton’s chest. Knowing that for now, they had the upper hand, he decided to comply. He removed his knife from its sheath and held it towards the men by the blade. The second guy collected the knives and the food bags they were carrying. He also took Brown Shades staff. 

“You won’t be needin this.” He said, tossing the stick to the side of the road. He put the items in the cab of the truck, grabbing two zip ties from inside. “I’m gonna need to secure you two.” He said showing them the zip ties. He proceeded to tie each mans hands together in front of them. Ushering them to the back of the pickup truck. “I wouldn’t try to jump out or anything along the way.” He advised. “This road is windy, but we don’t have far to go.”

It was hard to believe the pickup truck would even start; it looked like it was on its last legs but start it did and they continued down the road. Now passengers/prisoners. 

Five minutes later, they took a left turn at a sign that announced they were at Fontana Village Resort. They drove down the road and pulled up into a large parking lot in front of a building that had a sign Wildwood Grill. There were a number of other vehicles in the parking lot, including a few humvees. 

Straw hat parked the truck in a space right in front of the building and Clayton noticed that he took the keys and put them up in the visor. He made a note of that fact. They told them to come down and escorted them into the building. “I need to talk to the Honcho about you two, so just sit over there at that table and don’t be getting any funny ideas.” He warned.

Clayton and Brown Shades walked over to the proscribed table and sat down. Over at the next table was a young woman sitting at her own table. Her hands were tied too and her long, blond hair fell into her face. She didn’t immediately acknowledge their arrival. In fact, she didn’t move at all. 

Clayton looked around. They were in the main dining room of a large restaurant. There were lots of windows all around, but the door they had come in seemed to be the only one within view. An armed man stood outside that door. Clayton turned his gaze back to the young woman next to them. “Hey.” He quietly spoke to her. “You ok over there?” At first, she remained motionless, but then her head came up and then moved the hair from her face. She appeared to be about twenty-five or so, with blue eyes to go with her blonde hair. Her face was long and slim and below her left eye, a darkening bruise was blooming. 

“I’m fine, I guess.” She answered. “I was just trying to hike, and these fuckers took me. They have Yuk too.” She added. 

“Yuk?” Clayton was puzzled. “Is that another person or maybe a dog or something?” 

“Yuk is my Uke. Ya know Ukulele. A small guitar-like instrument with four strings. I call her Yuk. Those fuckers have her. Have my whole pack in fact.” She explained. 

“Well, what these fuckers don’t know is we have another person out there who didn’t get picked up and I bet she is planning something heroic right now as we sit. She is a sneaky and very adept thief.” 

The girl looked up and a small smile came to her face, lighting up her inner beauty in an instant. Making that black eye appear to be nothing more than an enhancement. “I’m game to work with you. I saw them put my pack in that small room over by the kitchen door. When we get the chance, I need to get it back. What’s the plan?”

“Well for now, we sit and observe. How long have you been here?” Clayton asked. 

“I was picked up this morning. As you can see, I put up a little fight and that asshat, with the assy looking hat, decided to get a little physical after I kicked him in the balls. I have been sitting here for hours. Their leader, someone they call Honcho, came over and asked me some questions, but after that, they have just left me alone here.”

Brown Shades reached up one hand and placed it on her shoulder. “We will get out of here with little problem. These guys seem a bit unorganized, but they do have guns, so we must be careful.”

Clayton looked at Brown Shades in surprise. Noticing that he had one hand on the girl's shoulder and the other in his lap. “You are free?” he asked, wonderment in his eyes.

“These things are pretty easy to defeat if you know how. They have weak spots. I had been working at it as we drove down the road, but I didn’t want to finish the job until we were alone. Also…” He lifted his other arm and in it he had another small knife. He reached over and loosened Clayton’s restraints. He did the same for the young woman. “Just keep your hands together for now, so they don’t figure out what we have done.” He put his hand back into the loose restraints and gave the appearance of still being bound. “What’s your name, child?” He asked the woman.

“I’m Class Room. Well, my trail name is Class Room. I’ve been hiking for over a month. Taking my time moving up the trail. I was in no hurry. Or I wasn’t until the shit hit the fan. Now I’m just going to try to walk home. I’m from New Jersey. I was in need of food and came looking for some, when these guys found me walking down the road and decided to take me.”

They had been sitting at the tables for about an hour now. Whispering back and forth. Trading information and trying to come up with a plan. 
The kitchen door swung open, and three men walked over to them. It was Coveralls, another new guy who wore a grease-smudged ball cap and a large, hulking guy that they knew instinctually was the Honcho. He was well over six feet tall, and he wore camo clothes from head to toe. He was probably about 35 or so and his large face was covered in a long, curly beard. He sat at the table across from them.
"I'm Honcho." He confirmed. "So, you say you were out on a hike. Do y'all know what has been going on in the world this past week?" he asked, not expecting an answer. "The government is gone. The army is trying to take over and us here at the dam have decided it was time to take charge. We need some help in our work, and that's where you come into the picture. You will be working for us now."
The three hikers stared at him for a bit then Brown Shades said. "What manner of work do you mean, sir?" 
"Whatever I need, old man. Cooking, cleaning, breaking rocks if I feel the need. You are mine now."
"We're… yours?" Clayton asked. Looking intently into the big man's face. 
"You got that right. Sorta like a slave. I say jump, you ask how high." He stood and hulked over them to show his strength and dominance. "Y'all just sit tight here for a while until I think of something for you to do." The three men departed back into the kitchen. 

Darkness had settled into the village resort and the three still sat where they had been left. They were going to try to escape as soon as it was full dark, and the men had gone to sleep. They had seen about ten other men in the nearby area. They hadn’t seen any women. 

There was a man with a shotgun standing outside the restaurant door. He was there to make sure they didn’t just leave. As he stood looking out towards the parking lot. There was a sound like a low whistle that came from his left. He looked that way and from his right a large, oak stick came swinging out of the dark and connected solidly with his head. It sounded like a baseball bat hitting a watermelon. The man dropped straight down to the ground as if his legs had disappeared. He was out cold. 

Gnobbit walked into view holding Brown Shade’s Staff and peered into the dark restaurant. “Where over here Gnobbit, whispered Clayton.”

She leaned over and lifted the shotgun from the unconscious man’s shoulder where he had slung the weapon. She opened the door and walked over to the trio. “Hi,” she said, “Nice night for a hike, huh?” She had a happy smile on her face. 

“I had a feeling we would be seeing you again soon. I’m glad it was this soon.” Clayton said, returning her smile. “Let’s get out of here. I have a plan, follow me.” He slipped off the tie wrap that Brown Shades had loosened on his wrist and let it fall to the floor. The other two followed suit and moved to the door where Gnobbit waited. Gnobbit handed the shotgun to Clayton who checked the chamber for a round and peeked into the magazine of the Remington 870 pump action, seeing at least two rounds there. He held it at the ready. 

Gnobbit handed The Staff to Brown Shades. “I believe you lost this sir,” she said as Brown Shades took the long stick with a bow. 

“Wait, Class Room said. I need to get my pack. To get Yuk.” She shot a worried glance over to the closet beside the kitchen door. “It’s in that closet over there.” 

“I’ll help you,” Gnobbit said and started over to the closet. “I’m Gnobbit.” She introduced herself softly. 

“Class Room.” The blond hiker responded as she reached out her hand in the form of a fist out to Gnobbit, who bopped it with her fist. They went over to the closet, and it was unlocked. Class Room reached in and grabbed her pack. When she pulled it out and threw it on her back, Clayton could see the small ukelele strapped to the pack as she turned around and the two women joined the men. 

Slowly and quietly, Clayton opened the door and exited the restaurant with the others close behind. “Follow me.” He said.

He walked fast to the old pickup truck they had arrived in. Went to the driver’s side and opened the unlocked door. He flipped down the visor, and the keys fell into his ready hand. The others all smiled in the dark and started getting into the truck. The old ford ranger had two bucket seats and a long bed. As Clayton slid into the driver's seat, Class Room threw her pack into the back of the truck and joined Clayton in the cabin as Brown Shades and Gnobbit climbed into the back of the truck. 

Clayton started the truck and shifted quickly into reverse, keeping the headlights off for now. As they started driving towards the exit to the village, a man came out of the restaurant and gave a shout when he realized what was happening. He started running towards the slowly quickening truck. He got to the back of the truck and grabbed onto the tailgate, pulling himself up onto the bumper. 

Brown Shades stood in the bed of the truck and held his staff ready. He poked the guy in the chest, trying to knock him off the back of the truck. The man reared back some, but he kept his grip. The old man changed his aim and swung the other side of the staff towards the man, slamming the side of the man’s head with the heavier side of the long oak stick. The man dropped as fast as the first man, rolling loosely across the parking lot as the truck started gaining speed. “I think I might have to name this staff Thorin Oaken Club.” He said with a smile. 

Clayton figured it was time to turn on the lights and when he did so, they saw another man standing in the middle of the road. This man had a shotgun of his own and he was trying to level it towards the truck. He aimed at the approaching headlights but being blinded by the sudden glare of the headlights, his aim was low and his shot went straight into the front of the truck and not the windshield. 

Clayton pointed his new shotgun out the side window, steadying it on the side-view mirror. He pulled the trigger, sending a hail of buckshot towards the armed man. The shot went wide, but it made the man decide to get out of the way and as the truck moved past him it clipped his right leg sending him sprawling. In a second, he and the village was behind them and they were heading up the same road they had come down a few hours ago.  The twisty road challenged Clayton’s driving skills, but he was able to handle the sudden turns and after a few minutes, they pulled into the marina. He drove straight to the restroom where they had hidden their packs. Brown Shades and Gnobbit jumped out of the truck bed as soon as it had slowed enough and ran to the back storage room and grabbed the packs. In ten seconds, they were back at the truck, throwing the bags into the back and climbing back in. 

As the truck started back out from the marina road, Clayton noticed steam coming from under the hood of the truck. They saw a sign at the end of the parking lot pointing the way to the dam. Clayton turned right and headed down the road towards the dam. The lake spread out on his right. 

They drove down the road and onto the dam. The steam was increasing its escape from under the hood of the truck and the engine was now making a funny sound. “Just a little more, old truck.” Clayton urged the struggling beater. They finished crossing the huge dam, passed a small picnic area and came to a parking lot. The white blazes started up the mountain at this point, turning off the road. The road itself had a yellow gate just beyond the parking lot. 

They came to a stop in the parking lot and that was all that the truck could deliver. The engine coughed a few times then grew silent. The tick, tick, tick of the cooling engine and the accompanying hiss of the escaping steam were the last words of the wounded vehicle.

They all grabbed their packs and started up the dark trail. Conveniently, the guys had left their knives in between the two bucket seats. Clayton grabbed them and sheathed his, handing the other to Brown Shades who sheathed it too. They didn’t dare turn on their head lamps yet and it was a pretty dark night, with no sign of any moon yet in the sky full of stars. 

They moved at a quick pace, but it was hard at first. After a few minutes, their eyes started to adjust to the darkness, and they could make out the trail as a slightly lighter track in the middle of the dark woods. After walking for about ten minutes, they could hear vehicles arriving at the parking lot down below. They heard a few shouts and saw some light flash back and forth for a while, but they never seemed to get any closer. In fact, they started to fade until there was nothing to hear except the slamming of a car door and once the beep of a horn. 

They kept going. After about 30 minutes, Clayton called for a halt, and they assessed what had happened. “Is anyone hit or hurt?” Clayton asked first. 

“I’m not, but did you see Brownie slam that guy on the back of the truck?” Gnobbit asked excitedly. “That guy is kinda hit and hurt.” She added.

“I am unhurt.” Was all Brown Shades said. 

Class Room also checked in as being ok. They sat in the middle of the trail, checking their gear. Making sure nothing had been lost in the excitement of the night. Gnobbit took two almost empty food bags she had stuffed into her pack and handed them to Clayton and Brown Shades. “These were in the back of the truck,” she said. “I kept mine attached to my belt during the excitement, but they are no fuller than they were before.” 

After about ten minutes, they continued on. 

The time was approaching midnight when they arrived at a sign that said Birch Spring Gap. There was a rail along the side of the trail for tying horses and down some stone steps a path ran past a spring then along a few tent sites. They quickly set up their sleeping shelters and tried to get some rest. 

Clayton decided that a watch would be necessary. He discussed the idea with the group and all agreed to help out. As the others nestled into their quilts and sleeping bags, Clayton sat on a stump in the dark, with the shotgun laying across his lap. Even though the day had been the longest they had traveled so far and the excitement of being captured and escaping, Clayton still felt very much awake. He wasn’t ready to sleep just yet. Staring down the trail where they had come. He heard nothing but the night noises for about an hour and a half.  Clayton’s attention was alerted when he saw some movement to his left, where the others were sleeping. It was Class Room. She raised her hand to acknowledge him seeing her then slowly approached in the dark. “I’ll watch for a couple hours so you can get some sleep. I sure can’t sleep much. Still too hyped up from the chase.”

Clayton smiled tiredly at her and held up the shotgun. “Do you know how to handle one of these?” He asked.

“I was a regional trap shooter champion when I was in the 4H club as a teenager.” She replied. “I can handle an 870.”

She took the shotgun and Clayton threw here a slow, tired salute. “I stand relieved.” He said and headed to his bivvy. He crawled into his bag and was asleep within a few seconds. The tiredness had finally caught him. 

Class Room continued the watch of the dark, silent trail. After a couple more hours, Brown Shades came out and took his turn. He kept the shotgun that she offered, but also had his trusty staff nearby. When it was Gnobbit’s turn, she too, kept both weapons ready.

The morning arrived safely, along with a thick fog. The dark forest lightened slightly into a white veil. The hikers all arose from their slumber and gathered around a cold fire pit next to Brown Shades’ hammock. “Let’s see what we have for supplies. Our plan didn’t quite go as we wanted on that expedition, but we are going to have to make do with what we have until we can find more.” Clayton started. He dumped his food bag on the ground next to the fire ring. The others grabbed their bags and did the same. Brown Shades still had the most to offer, but all around the pickings were slim for fueling four hikers needing to hike around 75 miles or so to the other side of this popular, but remote National Park. 

“If we ration carefully, this food should last about three days, maybe,” Brown Shades calculated. “Hopefully we find something by then.”

They divided up the food so each had an equal share to do with as they saw fit. Each understood that they had to be careful with how much they eat each day, but they shouldn’t starve themselves. At least not yet. That might come later. But they needed fuel to get the day started and none of them had slept very much during that night of excitement and the hyped up feeling that lingered even after they felt safe that the lazy locals didn’t chase them up into the mountains. 

Clayton unloaded the shotgun counting how many shells they had left. The plug had been removed from the 870 giving the magazine full capacity of four shells. There had been one in the chamber when they relieved the man of his weapon, and Clayton had sent its contents towards the man in the road, so they still had four shells. He reloaded the weapon and made it ready. 

They each ate a power bar for breakfast and a cup of a warm beverage. As they were sitting around the fire ring, Gnobbit asked Class Room. “So, how did you become Class Room?”

“I just got back from doing a year in the Peace Corps. I was stationed in Paraguay, and one of my duties was to help teach the children in the village music. When I started my hike, I was hanging out with a few other late starters, and we were talking about what we do and I was describing the conditions we had to endure in Paraguay and what our classroom was like. A guy named, Spider started calling me Class Room and as a lot of Trail Names go, it stuck,” Class Room explained. 

“Ah, a fellow educator,” Brown Shades stated. “I teach science up in PA. Welcome to the Tramily.” 

Each of the others explained what their name meant to them and how it came about. Every name usually had some kind of story connected to it. 

Clayton had been given Fictilibus long ago when he was doing his thru hike. When he started his hike, all of his gear was mostly brown. Some things were light brown, and others were a lighter clay colored brown, some dark brown. Clayton and a few other hikers were sitting around the fire early in the hike and one of the women in the group had taken Latin in college. She was saying that Clayton blended into the clay embankment he was sitting in front of, then spoke the Latin word for clay, Fictilibus. The fact that his name was Clayton and he used Clay at times as a nickname, made it even more appropriate. 

That became his name, and he accepted it as it was different and a little mysterious. When his hike had ended, he still kept that name to use whenever he was on the trail. He liked it. The longer they stayed out here, the more he thought of himself as Fic and the less he considered himself Clayton. 

It was time to put some more distance between Honcho and his men, so they started their day’s hike by continuing the climb up to the top of the ridge. 

Once they completed the climb up to Doe Knob, the climbing became less severe. There were still a lot of ups and downs, but they weren’t as long and not too steep. They decided to end the day at around 11.4 miles at the Spence Field Shelter.

This shelter was fairly large with space for at least 12 sleepers. The area in front of the shelter was covered and there was a stone fireplace within the shelter itself. They had enough Mountain House diners left for each of them to have one final one and the conversation was interesting as Gnobbit tried to trade her Beef Stew for Class Room’s Beef Stroganoff. The deal was made and the trade complete. After the meal was done, the Tramily sat around the small fire that Brown Shades had kindled in the fireplace and Class Room detached her Uke from its strappings on her pack. 

She plucked a few chords, checking the tune, then just started playing a tune. It wasn’t familiar to any of the hikers, and she sang no words along with it, but it was soothing and put the group at ease. The music itself seemed to have a magic that eased their aches and left them feeling refreshed.

“That’s a cool little guitar you have there.” Gnobbit admired her instrument. “I think it would be nice to learn how to play it.”

“It’s a ukelele, and its name is Yuk.” Class Room replied. “And I will gladly teach you.” She added, smiling at the younger woman who was lying on the upper level of the two tier sleeping platform of the shelter. 

For a while the Tramily that was now four, relaxed a little. They still had a long way to go and the days ahead looked like they might be hungry days. 

It rained a little overnight, and the morning had a dank, wet chill feeling. The hikers went through their usual morning routine slowly. Trying to shake off the chill of the morning, but not wanting to change out of their dry, warm clothes into their somewhat nasty, damp, hiking clothes.  Gnobbit, hefted her pack, swinging it onto her back and said. “Well, this trail ain’t gonna hike itself.” She winked and smiled at Fic and started out in the lead. 

Fic smiled back at her and hefted his own pack. The shotgun was strapped to his shoulder strap. He could keep his hands free, but still be able to ready the weapon, if the need arose. 

Today they were hoping to get to Clingmans Dome. There they hoped to find some food, but the danger of a possible public place was something they were also worried about. Caution would be key. They didn’t want another Honcho episode. 

The cold, foggy day drained the hikers of the energy they had received from their meager breakfast. Lunch was just as sparse and when they arrived at Double Spring Gap Shelter, they knew they were done for the day. 

Changing back into their dry clothes, they made a nice fire in the shelter fireplace. They had their third small meal of the day. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The rationing was going well, but their energy level was a lot lower because of the lack of calories. They had about two days of food left.

The plan was to get up early tomorrow and cover the last three miles to the summit, arriving sometime near daybreak and check out the small gift shop store that sat on the access path. 

The wind had picked up as evening approached, which blew the fog away, but also stole their heat as it swept into the shelter. Everyone was in their quilts on the sleeping platform early. It had been a hard day of hiking. 

After a quiet night the hikers all started stirring around 0400 and were on the trail before 0500. The climb was steady, but not too hard and they moved along with head lamps for a while, then without them as the morning started lightening the forest and the trail.  They arrived at the paved walkway as the sun had already started its journey across the sky and observed the area. All was quiet. They dropped their packs and Fic and Gnobbit headed down the pathway. Fic carried the shotgun and Gnobbit had found her own piece of oak as they had walked along yesterday. It wasn’t as large as Brown Shades’, but it still had a heft, and she liked the feel of it in her hands. 

The sky was mostly clear, with a section of mackerel sky to the east. The early sun tinted the clouds an orangish red that was striking. “Let’s check out the tower.” Suggested Class Room. “I bet we can see pretty far from there.”

“This is the highest point on the trail.” Stated Brown Shades. “We are at 6658 feet in elevation.” 

They followed the spiraling ramp that took them up to a covered observation platform that offered a view of a full 360 degrees. The two companions walked around looking where they had been, and where they still had to go. The view was perfect. The sun was shining across the land, and you could see fog and mist laying in the low valleys far below. The green forest seemed to go on forever, one ridge after the other spreading out and getting bluer as they grew farther away. Close to them were a lot of dead trees that reached up from the ground like skeletal fingers. 

When Class Room and Brown Shades returned to the packs, Fic and Gnobbit were returning from their search. “We found a few things.” Gnobbit said. Tossing a bag of chips and pretzels at the other two. “There was no one around.” She also had a couple bottles of water that they shared amongst themselves, topping off their water bottles. They ate a small breakfast and enjoyed the chips and pretzels the two had found. 

Another day of walking was before them. As they followed the trail, they started noticing dug up areas next to the trail. It appeared that someone had gone through the underbrush and duff with a hoe or small shovel. A very large area was dug up here.

After walking another half an hour. They came to another dug up area. As they came around a bend in the trail, they heard a series of grunting sounds. Slowing, the group started looking around, trying to find the source of the sounds. Gnobbit was on point and had the shotgun on her shoulder. She unslung it and held it at the ready, continuing slowly down the trail. Brown Shades was behind her and held his staff in both hands. Carrying it at port arms.

Class Room came next, and she walked along looking to the left and the right. Fic took up the rear position. suddenly, a squeal sounded from the left of Fic and the brush started rustling. A large hog came bursting out of the bush and ran straight for Fic. He pulled his knife, but knew it was going to take more than this five-inch blade to handle this pig. The wild hog was a dark brown color with a rough, scraggly fur sticking up on its hide. Its large head pointed straight at Fic, four inch tusks bursting out of its mouth dripping saliva.

Fic stood at the ready and waited for the hog to arrive. As it neared him, he stepped to the right and swung the base of his knife down to the pig’s head. He hit the beast at the back of his skull, but it appeared to have no effect. The boar flicked its head and its tusks slid along Fic’s leg. He felt a sharp pain in his calf and rolled to the right as fast as he could.

The pig ran past him and slowed down, working to turn and have another run. As he did so, a shot rang out. The dirt to the rear of the boar exploded up into the air and the pig squealed a hurt scream. It turned to its left and headed down the hill at a fast clip.

“I think I hit it.” Said Gnobbit excitedly. She came up to Fic and looked at his leg. “I guess he hit you too.” She bent down to observe his injury. Fic’s pant leg had a good rip in it and the skin underneath also was a bit ripped. It wasn’t too deep, but it was about four inches long. Fic hissed in pain as she probed the gash. “I thought you were a big, strong soldier.” She chided him.

“It hurts like a bitch.” Fic answered. “Thanks for taking the shot. I don’t think I could have gotten clear if it had charged me again.”

The group gathered around the injured Tramily member and worked to clean the wound and put a bandage on from Fics first aid kit. They had poured some alcohol that Fic still had for his stove and squirted on some antibiotic cream before putting on a few butterfly bandages and then wrapped it tightly with some gauze.

They got ready to go and continued down the trail. Fic had a nice limp, but it didn’t feel too bad. His main concern was infection. This was a dirty life and wild hogs were known for dirty tusks. Keeping it clean and bandaged was going to be a priority. He needed his legs to get home. Gnobbit handed him her walking stick, which he accepted gladly. She walked away with the shotgun at the ready. Once again leading the way. 

The rest of the day went a bit slowly. They let Fic set the pace. He found that once he got moving, the pain of the gash subsided some and he could keep a decent pace, but when they stopped for a break, his leg would stiffen up and it would take a few hundred meters for it to loosen up again. 

They descended rather steeply to Newfound Gap, the trail rising at the end to come to the road. Across the road was a large parking lot with an old stone monument in one corner. This usually busy tourist area was completely empty. Unless the road is closed due to weather, this place usually has at least a few cars parked in the spaces.

They crossed the lot, passing a sign that said they were standing on the North Carolina, Tennessee border. “So are we done with North Carolina?” Gnobbit asked.

“No.” Brown Shades answered. “We have actually been traversing the border for the last three days. As soon as we got up on the ridge, we have been walking the line. We will be doing that until after we pass Erwin.”

“That stone structure over there is called the Rockefeller Memorial. It’s where FDR dedicated the park back in 1940. This is usually a popular place.” Brown Shades continued his lesson.

The party checked out the stone building and the restrooms. There was nothing to be found except more TP, which they all took a share of, of course. 

The trail became rather tame for the next half of a mile or so. “Tourist Friendly.” Gnobbit called it. Soon the trail was back to being a serious hiking trail. They continued on. 

They arrived at the Icewater Spring Shelter when the sun was heading over the ridge to the west. They settled in and ate another small dinner. They had one day’s food left. They also had three shells left in the shotgun. 

The group spread out in the shelter. Fic set his bag up on the lower level on the one side. He didn’t want to be climbing up the short ladder or jumping down to the ground. His leg was doing ok, but the pain was still there and every once in a while, a sharp jolt would run up his leg from the gash. He rummaged through his first aid kit and found a couple Motrin. Fondly referred to as Vitamin I on the trail for its chemical name of ibuprofen. Fic’s sleep was restless. Each time he moved, pain would remind him of his close call with the feral beasts that roam these hills. Escaped domestic pigs, that the mountain people brought to this land long ago. 

The birds started singing, and the sky started to lighten. The front of the shelter had a magnificent view here. Facing east, it was promising a beautiful sunrise. There were a few clouds in the sky, but they were fluffy and scattered. Adding to the beauty of the view and acting as places to catch the vibrant colors of the dawn. 

Fic got up. His leg was throbbing, so he had gotten all the sleep he was going to. He walked out of the shelter area, picking up the shotgun that had been sitting propped at his head on the edge of the sleeping platform. 

The covered area in front of the shelter, with its table and a few bench like features around the edge was still dark. As Fic came to the edge, he saw two rabbits feeding on the grass of the lawn like area in front of the shelter. They were about 20 meters away.  Fic slowly and quietly chambered a round into the 870’s action. Brought the weapon to aim and fired. The bunnies had been far apart, so he couldn’t get both with one shot, and he didn’t want to use up all the shells, so he was happy when the rabbit to the left flew into the air from the impact and fell to the ground. Already dead.

Fic walked over to the fallen rabbit as shouts of surprise and alarm came from the shelter. He bent and picked up the somewhat mangled animal and turned to the shelter. The others were at the edge of the covered area, sticks and staffs at the ready. “I got him,” he said, smiling. The shelter residents looked at Fic for several seconds, before letting out a breath. Some smiled at his feat, others just looked jangled at being awoken in such an abrupt way. 

Shooting a somewhat small rabbit with double aught buckshot will not only do the job of ending the animal’s life, but it will start the tenderizing process too. There was still plenty of meat, but the nine large pellets of the shell had done some damage. 

Fic walked back to the shelter and placed the rabbit on the table. “I appreciate this guy being here for us and thank him for giving his life so we could go on.” He said respectfully. “It looks like its time for some rabbit stew.” He added with a large grin.

Fic cleaned and skinned the rabbit and cut the meat into pieces. They started some water boiling and put the meat into the water, adding a few spoonfuls of the brown powder from Brown Shades’ Bag of Seasons. He also still had one small potato in his bag, and he cut that up small, adding it to the pot. Class Room had walked around the lawn, checking out the gorgeous sunrise, that had delivered on its promise with more bright oranges and reds. She had found some wild onion growing near the woods and had picked some to add to the pot. 

After about forty-five minutes of preparation and cooking each of the hikers had a steaming pot of very watery rabbit stew to savor. It was like eating heaven.

“Red sky in the morning. Sailors take warning.” Brown Shades said softly, as he stared out at the bright sunrise. They still had a day’s worth of food, maybe a little more now if there was any leftover meat. They also had two shotgun shells left. 

It was now Friday. Yesterday was a painful blur to Fic. They had walked over twenty miles. His leg had hurt most of the time, but they had gone the farthest yet, yesterday. They had also eaten the last of their food. Their bags were now empty, with the exception of some seasonings and maybe an odd tea bag or packet of mayo. It wasn’t anything that would do much good. 

They were almost done with the Smoky Mountains. They had been walking steadily downhill since early in the morning. The environment around was changing. Where it had been a lot of pine trees growing up in the higher elevations, now it was transforming into maple, oak and sassafras, with lots of mayapple growing on the forest floor. The poison ivy was back too. They had done it. Hungry and a little hurt, but they had made it through the Great Smoky Mountains. 

They were heading back toward rural civilization, where the possibility of getting food was now a little better than before. 

The noon sun was shining down on the hiking party as it passed the black box with green writing on it where backcountry hikers were supposed to deposit half of their permit as they entered the park and came to a paved road. The trail followed the road as it crossed the Pigeon River, then continued to go under Interstate 40. As they were approaching the underpass, they heard traffic coming down the highway. They hurried to get out of sight under the usually busy road. A convoy of trucks passed over them. Neither stopping nor slowing. They had places to get to.

The party waited until the sound of the trucks had stopped, then they moved along the road quickly until they saw a long flight of stone steps heading back into the woods. There was a metal railing running up the side of the staircase. They quickly walked up the steps and back into the woods. Fic brought up the rear, hobbling on his injured leg. 

He actually felt a little better today. The wound looked like it was starting to heal when Class Room had checked it out as she was changing his bandage. She had doused it once again with alcohol and antibiotic cream and once again wrapped it up. 

The trail followed the edge of the ridge until it once again came to a road. This gravel road was smaller than the others they had just walked on, and they started walking up the hill away from the trail. The Standing Bear Farm Hostel was about 2 tenths of a mile away. 

Once again, they carefully walked up the road until they could see a cluster of brown buildings across a small, babbling stream. They walked up the driveway and came to a building with a small porch. On the porch sat an old man in a rocking chair. He had one leg propped up on the railing of the porch and he appeared to be asleep. A long grey beard flowed from his face and longish, dark gray hair sprouted from under a black ball cap. His beard was mostly gray. Around his mouth the hair had been stained a brownish color from constant cigarette smoking. On a small table next to the man was a large ashtray and a pack of Marlboros was sitting next to the ashtray. 

Fic cleared his throat and one eye opened on the man’s face. The other eye came open, and he lowered his foot and stood with a start and coughed into his hand. He took in the hiking party arrayed out behind Fic and his eyes finally came to Fic, noticing the shotgun resting benignly in the crock of his arm.

The man looked from Fic and his weapon to a shotgun that was standing in the corner of the porch by the door. He looked back at Fic and said. “Well Hey. How y’all doing today?” 

“We are doing pretty good, but we are kind of hungry. Do you have any resupply for sale?” Fic asked. He lowered the shotgun further, trying to show that they meant him no harm.

“I have a lot of food. You are welcome to it. I’m the only one here. Name’s Kent. I’m the caretaker. I haven’t had anyone here in the past three days or so. We work on the honor system here. You keep track of what you take and pay when you leave. I’m running a special since it’s the end of the world or something. Five bucks for a bunk and use of the facilities, although the electricity is out, so the shower will be cold, but the water is running. Also, you can take half off all the food you take.” Kent explained to the party. 

“Thanks Kent, we may just take you up on that deal.” Fic replied.

The party talked amongst themselves and decided that a shower may be nice, even if it is a cold one. They all still had some cash but were running low on that too. 

“We are staying the night.” Announced Brown Shades, walking into the bunkhouse past the sitting shotgun. Kent went to follow him and took hold of the shotgun. He took it inside and set it next to the first bed in the bunkhouse. 

“With all the commotion, I have to be careful of who comes around. The army was here a few days ago, but they didn’t do anything bad. Even though something ain’t right about them. I was surprised because I have been hearing things. I think they cut me some slack, since I’m dying. I have lung cancer.” The group looked at Kent in shock. “It’s cool.” He said. “It’s the smokes. I couldn’t quit before and now that it’s too late, I don’t see the need to quit.”

Kent walked through the bunkhouse as the others entered and selected a bunk. There were about eight bunk beds in the room, so everyone had their own lower bunk. Except for Gnobbit, who threw her pack up on a top bunk by the door and climbed up to start unpacking. She needed her vantage point.

They all settled in and then Kent showed them around the farm. There was a separate building for different things. Right outside the bunkhouse, was a building that was the kitchen. It contained a couple of long tables, a sink, stove and microwave. 

The next room was where the showers were and there was a set of sinks and a dryer. The sinks were where you washed your clothes. The old fashioned way, with a washboard. 

Outside was a large fire pit and across the way was another building. Stairs led up to the door and inside was the store. The walls were lined with every manner of hiking food. Rice and pasta packets. Some freeze-dried meals. Ramen, tuna, packets of chicken and a lot more filled the shelves. 

The group first picked something to cook and eat right away. Then they started picking items to refill their empty food bags. The prices were decent, and with the discount, they would be able to afford the cost of a night in a bed and some resupply. Class Room did notice that most of the food was beyond its expiration date, but they weren’t worried about that. Those first world problems were probably going to seem trivial if things stayed the way they were right now. 

They ate a hearty dinner, refilling their calorie banks that had become depleted over the last few days and got a fire going in the big fire pit. Kent asked if they were willing to do some work to earn another 25% discount on the food and the whole group volunteered to help.

For the next hour, they cleaned up the place, cut some firewood and did the chores that Kent needed help with. Afterward, they were all sitting by the fire. Talking a little. Planning the next day’s hike. Brown Shades reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of a white powder. He once again nonchalantly passed his hands over the fire and the yellow fire turned a bright green. Everyone oohed and awed and Gnobbit was quite excited. “What did you use for that bit of magic, Brownie?” She asked. 

“Green comes from borax. I had found some under the sink in the kitchen of Birch Cabin and have been carrying it since then. I was waiting for a comfortable time to try it out. Tonight, seemed like the perfect opportunity.” Brown Shades explained. 

The party sat and stared into the fire. Class Room was playing Yuk. She would strum for a bit, then play a short sample of a song. Some recognizable, some unique. She would show Gnobbit a chord, then have her try it on Yuk. The teaching had begun. As she played, the party once again felt the music flow through them and make them feel better. Having full stomachs helped a lot too. 

Kent was over by the bunkhouse, smoking one of his Marlboros. His shotgun next to his chair and his foot up on the rail of the small porch. 

Around the fire sat a Warrior, a Thief, a Mage and a Bard. Their party was coming together rather well. All they needed would be an Elf Ranger and a Dwarf Cleric. 

Fic is sitting in a rustic cabin. There is a bright fire burning in a large fireplace on the far side of the room. Music is playing somewhere. It has a mysterious sound. Something that you could feel and see and smell, not just hear. It brought a strange sense of wellbeing to his body. 

He looked at his clothes and he was once again dressed as a fantasy warrior. Looking around he sees the blond hair and face of Class Room. She is the one creating the music. It isn’t a ukelele in her hands, but some sort of mandolin or lute type instrument. She looks up at him and smiles. Her pale blue eyes are piercing and seem to shine in the firelight. She is dressed in rough linen and woven wool. The clothes look to be of fine design and are well matched for her body.

Next to her sits Brown Shades, once again looking like a wise mage. He is listening to the music and is humming along. His large wizard’s staff leans against the wall near the fire. 

Gnobbit is laying on a cot to the right of the fire. Dressed in her dark thieves’ clothes. She appears to be dozing. A soft smile on her face. 

Suddenly, there is a loud knock on the thick oak door. The music stops and Gnobbit opens her eyes and sits up. Brown Shades looks at Fic and nods his head.

Being the closest to the door, Fic stands up and walks to the opening. A large beam is barring the door. He lifts the beam and places it next to the door. Reaches for the clever, wooden latching system and pulls the door open. 

Before him stands two men. One is short, dark and bearded. He wears ornate armor and a kilt adorned with straps of metal and leather. A large axe is strapped to his belt. The other is tall. Very tall. His delicate features seem to glow in the night. His hair is a bright white and a mustache adorns his handsome face. His ears are pointed like Gnobbit’s. He is dressed all in green leather. A bow is strapped to his back and a quiver of arrows are on his shoulder. 

Both men smile at Fic as if they know him. Fic starts to smile back and a cough rings out. Breaking his dream. 

Fic comes awake in his bed in the bunkhouse at the Standing Bear. Kent is coughing in his sleep a few bunks away. The dream starts to fade from his memory, but the tune that Class Room played still rings in his ears. 

Eventually, Fic returns to the land of slumber and the rest of the night is spent mending his wounded and half-starved body.