By SrgtGreen
Oct 13, 2021
“I kicked my backpack, sending the empty husk a few feet in the air.
‘Get lost,’ came the voice of one of the brigands from the tree line. In my fit of rage, I had already forgotten about them. As I approached my bag to collect the few items the bandits had left us with, I noticed a small, green holster hidden under a dried out shrub. I picked it up tentatively, hiding it from the view of the brigands with my body. It’s comfortable weight sagged in my outstretched hand. Denying a growling urge for vengeance, I subtly deposited it in my bag, then hurried to catch up to Brendon, who was already walking down the road.
We walked several hundred meters in dejected silence, until the scene of the crime was out of sight. Then we stopped and took inventory of our remaining items. A half empty canteen was strapped to the side of Brendon’s backpack. They must have missed this, as the rest of our food and water had been taken. Fortunately, they’d left us with our map so we could still navigate to Texas. A few loose matches were strewn at the bottom of my bag. I still had my wallet in my pocket, and a bit of cash left in it, as did Brendon. And, of course, the small handgun which I attached to my waist. Although a serious setback, the robbery was not the end of the world. The greatest loss was that of the ATV.
I tossed Brendon the map and he quickly identified where we were. The middle of nowhere. No establishments or stops for 20 miles either way. It would impossible to make it to a town before nightfall, as it was already late afternoon.
‘So whats the plan?’ Brendon asked.
I answered, ‘Start walking. Get as close as we can to anywhere tonight, then travel the rest of the way tomorrow morning.’
We began our trek.”
‘Get lost,’ came the voice of one of the brigands from the tree line. In my fit of rage, I had already forgotten about them. As I approached my bag to collect the few items the bandits had left us with, I noticed a small, green holster hidden under a dried out shrub. I picked it up tentatively, hiding it from the view of the brigands with my body. It’s comfortable weight sagged in my outstretched hand. Denying a growling urge for vengeance, I subtly deposited it in my bag, then hurried to catch up to Brendon, who was already walking down the road.
We walked several hundred meters in dejected silence, until the scene of the crime was out of sight. Then we stopped and took inventory of our remaining items. A half empty canteen was strapped to the side of Brendon’s backpack. They must have missed this, as the rest of our food and water had been taken. Fortunately, they’d left us with our map so we could still navigate to Texas. A few loose matches were strewn at the bottom of my bag. I still had my wallet in my pocket, and a bit of cash left in it, as did Brendon. And, of course, the small handgun which I attached to my waist. Although a serious setback, the robbery was not the end of the world. The greatest loss was that of the ATV.
I tossed Brendon the map and he quickly identified where we were. The middle of nowhere. No establishments or stops for 20 miles either way. It would impossible to make it to a town before nightfall, as it was already late afternoon.
‘So whats the plan?’ Brendon asked.
I answered, ‘Start walking. Get as close as we can to anywhere tonight, then travel the rest of the way tomorrow morning.’
We began our trek.”