A tail of warrior past life.

[Joel-last]

Today like many days, was a bad day to be at home. Dad had just come back from being on the road for three months. Her mom was always "happy" to see him. I don't think his foot even touched the driveway before she started nagging him about stuff. She was in a mood, and it was going to be a fight. I decided it would be a good day to go for a hike. I didn't want to hear that fight. So I grabbed my trail backpack made sure that I had my gun that dad bought for me. And I decided that I would go head down the trails for a while, probably my camp in the woods for the night mom wouldn't even notice I was gone. She was in the entire time young and dad.

I love my mom just looking back on it, and I miss her. I miss her a lot. A sweet loving lady when dad wasn't around. It's like those two were like two hurricanes running into each other every time they met.

It's 9 a.m. on a Saturday, for Saturday the weather was nice up here in the mountains. There was a nice breeze. It wasn't too hot, and it wasn't too cold. So I got on my dirtbike and sped off towards the National Park, which was about six or 7 miles down the road. So at random, I picked one of the trails and started to hike. It said it was about 10 miles. I could kill some time and decide if I was in the camper come back home.

Today seemed like he was going to be no different than any other day hiking in the woods. Just lose yourself to nature and a few people you pass, mostly the solitude and wildlife if you got lucky, might see something remarkable. But that's not what happened. This was how I ended up on the news for the first time, all by luck.

I had been hiking for about an hour and 1/2 when I heard a sound that I knew meant only trouble. It was the roar of a brown bear with this responding squelch and scream of a woman in distress. My legs acted before I had a chance to think I was running down that path, jumping over rocks as fast as my little legs could carry me. I was only 13 at the time, crazy enough to rush a woman being attacked by a bear. But my dad taught me to do what was right. You don't run from danger. You run at it. If someone needs your help, you help them. That's what dad always said.

[Joel-last]

I come up to the edge of the path over a clearing of the hill on the mountainside. There is a lady on her back with a giant brown bear over top of her. She had to be a first-time hiker. Because her cute pink high school-looking backpack was lying on the ground a few feet from her, it was full of food, not just fruits, and berries snack food. But full of beef jerky meat. The bag probably weighed 20 pounds and was full of nothing but food and water. But none of the things you should take a hike in the deep mountains besides water.

I couldn't help but think to myself she had just met her real-life Yogi the bear.

I wasn't getting any closer. I was not getting in arms reach of that badass bear. So I set myself up against a tree. I pulled out my 9 mm. I knew it probably was going to kill the bear. He was going to get piss it off. But I had the extendable clip. And I hope enough shots would piss the bear off, and it would run off because nobody likes getting stung by one hell of a bee from a place you have no idea where it's coming from.

I aimed and began to breathe. Like my father, I had taught me. I lined up the site in the middle of the bear, of that off three quick shots. The grouping of those shots was perfect. I'm pretty sure they were almost all in the same spot. The bear let out a huge roar. It would swing the paw of the lady's face, and I let off another three shots.

Those last three shots, I must've wounded it pretty good or hurt it enough that it decided that it was getting out of there. It jumped off of her and started bolting towards the woods. There was a good amount of blood coming from it, so I'm pretty sure it died.

I was told later by the park Rangers they never did find the bear, but they deftly found a long trail of blood heading up deep into the mountains. They're pretty sure it died of his wounds or was likely taken out by a pack of wolves.

[Joel-last]

Quickly, putting my gun back in the holster running down the path to check on the lady. As I made my way down towards her, I got a better view she was pretty messed up. What did I expect? A Brown bear attacked her. Those things are massive and terrifying. I watched as the bear scampered off into the woods and decided he probably wasn't coming back. I threw down my backpack and quickly pulled out my first aid kit so I could help bandage her wounds. Her face was covered in blood, massive claw marks on her chest. And from the looks of things, her right arm was broken, left was severely damaged. She did not break her legs, but they did not look in great shape either.

Trying to figure out what it wanted to do first, start first aid, or call the park rangers. I decided I should probably get on the satellite phone pronto and call into the Rangers. They could get a chopper in the air and hopefully get her to a hospital. Maybe she might live. I was 13 years old, and my hands were shaking as I pulled out the phone. The adrenaline from shooting the bear began to wear off, and now reality started to set in.

I was glad that my dad had preprogrammed the phone with several numbers. All I had to do was hit pound one, and it would call the Rangers and pound two, and it would call my dad. The Rangers answered almost immediately. Doing my best to explain the situation. Thank goodness that the satellite phone had a GPS function, and I gave them our relative GPS coordinates.

Using my dad's basic first aid knowledge, I begin making her a splint for her arm. I was glad that she wasn't making too much noise. It seemed as if she had gotten knocked out when she had fallen. I did think that I could take it. My heart was pumping so loud I could hear it in my ears and fill it in my chest. I did want the poor lady to die.

Once I got her arm in a split, I began trying to figure out what to do for her face, putting some gauze, trying to stop the blood wrapping her head up a bit. Try my best to move her head as minimal as possible while ensuring that I did not block her airways. Because it would be horrible to survive a bear attack, then the person that tries to save you kills you by accidentally suffocating you.

I'm not sure how long it took for the Rangers to get there, but they deftly seem to get there quickly. I was too busy trying to keep the poor woman alive the time didn't have any meaning. All I could think about was don't die on me, lady.

I could hear the sound of the helicopter. The rangers and paramedics jumped out and quickly went to work. One of the rangers sat down with me help me clean up the blood on my hands and arms. Let me know how good of a job I did, and she is about a better chance of surviving with my first aid knowledge. Honestly, most of it was a blur. I remember them caring her on one of those gentle boards into the chopper and watching as it disappeared off into the sky. My hands were still shaking. I remember the Ranger talking to me, but I can't remember anything they said at that point. I don't think I could even tell you what the Ranger looks like; I just remember their uniform and their hands moving around a lot and hugging me.

A little while later, I was rushed into a helicopter myself to get back to the path where my dad and mom were waiting for me. The part that seemed strange was my mom was standing next to my dad. I hadn't seen that happen in years. They looked as if they were strangers. Who were these people not arguing and fighting and happy to see me. I remember my dad's smile as my mom rushed toward the wrapping her arms around me. The look on my dad's face. I don't think he could've been more proud of me.

On the other hand, my mom looked like I had just died. Like I had come back to life as if I was Jesus being resurrected. I don't think she let go of me the entire ride home that she kept checking me for wounds as if I was the one attacked by the bear. I'm pretty sure mom was talking to me. But I think I was in shock because I still don't remember a word that she said.

I do remember my dad putting my bike in the back of the truck. Time seems to completely blur itself. I don't remember getting home; I don't even know how I ended up sitting in the bathtub. I remember it beginning to feel cold and coming to the realization that I was in the bathtub, and I must've been here for a long time because the water was cold.

I remember hearing my dad's voice before he came in and sat down on the toilet. I remember him telling me I did good, and it was to be challenging the next few days. When I see her face, and it haunts me, I hear his voice even to this day. But every time the memory of her face comes back to remember that lady's life because I saved her.

Looking back on it now. The weirdest thing is I can see her face more clearly banged up and viewed up as it was in some of my Army buddies. Several people I held in my arms watched them die. I cared more about them than anything else. Some of their faces are absolute blurs. Yet I'll never forget that lady's mangled face.

Becomes defined out with a bit of surgery, they were able to fix her pretty well. We met once on some interview show where they interviewed me about what happened, and I thought she would hug me to death. I didn't know there was that much strength in that little lady. I've never spoken to her since then don't think I really want to. I'm just glad that she lived.

[Joel-last]

Mom decided that she would have a spa weekend with one of her friends, which meant I got the whole weekend to myself without my mother bothering me about anything. At least that's what it sounded like until she said she would keep checking up on me and text. One of her friends would stop by to ensure that I wasn't throwing a party. I don't think she realized that I don't have that many friends. I spent more time in the woods doing Ranger training with dad and dad's friends. But I didn't spend that much time with kids my age. Except for some of the few guys that were into some of the things I was. Yet I was interested in girls, but after seeing my mom and how she treated my dad, I was a bit skeptical.

I love my mom. She was a caring lady. But she was one of those that never stopped talking and bugging you about things. She had an opinion on an opinion about the opinion of the opinion. Dad said somewhere in there she changed after I was born. I don't know if that's true; I was around before that. He spent most of the time on the road because when he was home, they fought about money. When he was on the road, she always yelled about him not spinning enough time with us. I'm pretty sure he put her on mute a lot.

I had just gotten the game killer instinct for my NES. I was going to master several of the ultra combos. So that when my friends came over to play, when my dad got back. I was going to show out. I was going to beat them up and then hit them with the world's longest ultra the world had ever seen. It was going to be glorious. So all the lights were off in the house. I was up in my room with my blackout curtains. My dad had helped me set up forever ago so that I had headphones for my TV. Because no matter how quiet my TV was, it was too loud for my mother.

So there I am in my room in the dark playing killer instinct. I had just it 170 ultra. It was glorious. I don't know why but something struck me as downright odd. I immediately took off my headphones and heard the sound of wood cracking, and it sounded like it was coming from downstairs by the kitchen our back door.

I immediately reached for my handgun under the bed and realized that my mom had taken it when she grounded me from my guns. But dad said that he would not leave me alone without at least a single barrel shotgun, and mom was overruled. I remember that I had set it against my door frame just in case.

I picked up the shotgun, began to load five shots into the shotgun, and reached down and patted the five shots that were in their holder on the stock to make sure they were there. That's when I heard a Boom.
With the sound of wood slamming against the doorframe as he must've kicked down the door. Because his prybar did only did so much damage. Dad had screwed that door shut when he was home last because mom kept yelling at him about it opening on its own in the wind. Then got in his truck and drove off. So she couldn't scream at him about how he fixed it.

We lived in a small two-story house with a kitchen,bathroom, and a living room. Upstairs was my parent's room and my room. There wasn't anything worth the value downstairs except for the TV that my dad coveted. All of the important jewelry and whatnot would be up in my parent's room. I knew it wouldn't take him long to realize that we were broke and that he would come upstairs searching for what was in my parent's room.

Once you came up the stairs, you were directly in front of my room. Then there was a little bit of a hallway to my parent's room, and between us was a bathroom and a little laundry room. So the only way that he could get upstairs was to come directly into my line of fire. I'm pretty sure you see where this is going now.

So I took my door, and I opened it about 2 inches. I took a position with my gun barrel just hidden back in the shadow of the door. I began to control my breathing, being as silent as possible I knew here in a little bit, I would hear the sound of his foot's steps coming up the steps.

This is where the story begins, different from what I told the cops and the news and what happened. I know the self-defense laws of my state, and my dad had me memorize them at the age of 10

[Joel-last]

I told the cops as he came up to the stairs. I yelled, stop, I have a gun. Get out of my house since he couldn't see me and could see the crack in my door. The man charged towards the door. With no hesitation, I fired two shots with the shotgun. I was aiming directly for his chest. I am a good shot I didn't miss, especially from that range. He began to stumble back and start falling down the stairs with the first and the second one knocked him entirely down the stairs.

Now, what really happened. As soon as he came up the stairs, I didn't say a damn thing. You know you're not supposed to be in someone else's house. You don't have the right to be there, don't have the right my stuff or anybody else's stuff. **** you, Mr. I'm blowing you away. I did two shots to the chest, and he fell down the stairs.

I immediately called 911 from the phone in my parent's room. I explained to them what happened, and they told me to stay on the phone until the officers had arrived. So I stayed on the phone with the 911 operator as she attempted to calm me down, having no idea that I wasn't that upset. But I played along because I feared for my life right he was dead I was alive. My mom was gonna be pissed about the blood in her house. I'm pretty sure he messed up the stairs on the way down and broke my mom's vase.


I heard a knock at the front door telling the Sheriff to come on in. Then I got off the phone with the 911 operator. He began to look around at several more Sheriff's came in. He made his way around the dead body up the stairs and talked to me as I explained what had happened. Taking the shotgun from me and having someone put it in an evidence bag. In checking my hands for gunpowder. A prybar was next to the body. So everything about my story looked pretty legit. He asked me where my mom was. I explained and told him that he was calling because I wasn't calling. He began to laugh because he knew my mother. He was one of my dad's friends that I did Ranger training with.

So setting me down and going over my statement, writing it all out, and all that fun stuff that police have to do. He said that he had to take me down, and they had to take my clothes so much of other fun things. And they were probably going to put me up in a hotel for the night. I was telling him about killer instinct. And that I'm not going to a hotel without taking my video game and the console which he agreed would be there when I arrived. And likely a lot bigger TV than the small one in my room.

So after taking me to the police station and all the fun things they were doing to me down there. Proceeded in getting injections, inspections,Detections, neglections and all kinds of stuff that they was doin' to me At the thing there, and I was there for two hours, three hours, four Hours, I was there for a long time going through all kinds of mean nasty. Ugly things and I was just having a tough time there, and they was
Inspecting, injecting every single part of me, and they was leaving no Part untouched. Proceeded through, and when I finally came to the see the Last man, I walked in, walked in sat down after a whole big thing there.
And I walked up and said. " Go see the the shrink. Now Kid."

Now I had been waiting for this opportunity my entire life. It was finally going to happen I was going to be the first person in history to ever do it. I prepared myself.

I got up and walked in I didn't even set down I stood in the middle of the room. I cleared my throat. I began to think."Shrink, You can get Anything you want, at Alice's restaurant.". And walk out.

I'm pretty sure I was one of the only people in the world that has ever done it . I cannot wait to tell my father. This is going to be one of the shining achievements of my entire life.

The psychologist came back outside to say something to me . And I, I walked over to the, to the bench there, and there is, Group W's Where they put you if you may not be moral enough Committing your special crime to go free. I ahook my head make hush gesture with my hand over my mouth. He walked back in side. Looking people on the bench there. Mother rapers. Father stabbers. Father Rapers! Father rapers sitting right there on the bench next to me! And They was mean and nasty and ugly and horrible crime-type guys sitting on the Bench next to me. And the meanest, ugliest, nastiest one, the meanest Father raper of them all, was coming over to me and he was mean 'n' ugly 'N' nasty 'n' horrible and all kind of things and he sat down next to me And said, "Kid, whad'ya get?" I said, "I didn't get nothing." He said, "What were you arrested for, kid?"And I said, "Nothing" And they all moved away from me on the bench There, and the hairy eyeball and all kinds of mean nasty things, till I Said, "I shot a man who tried to break in my house." And they all came back, shook my hand,And we had a great time on the bench, talkin about crime, mother stabbing,Father raping, all kinds of groovy things that we was talking about on the Bench. And everything was fine, they was smoking cigarettes and all kinds of Things, and tell my dad's friend one of the Sheriff's came over and got me.

[Joel-last]

Like last time again, my mom was not very happy about the situation. You should've seen my mother going at it with the sheriff, whom she knew was dad's good friend. One of the only reasons she has the courage to say some of the things she said about them not letting her in the house. Otherwise, she probably would've been arrested. Now I want to mention that my mom is tiny. She is like 5'2. She's a small petite lady that you could pick up and throw my mom with one hand. But she has the attitude of the dude that is 6'4.

You can imagine this little lady that probably weighs 130 soaking wet screaming at this big sheriff about not letting her in her house after her spa weekend because it was a crime scene. Once she was done giving the sheriff a once over.

Once we got to the hotel, She just kept going over the fact that I couldn't have shot him outside. Because we were going to have to clean the house. I kept telling her that dad had already been contacted, and he hired a professional cleaning crew that does crime scenes once they release the scene. But she wouldn't stop saying it as if the more she said it, the more true it would be. I never understood once my mother got something in her head, rational or un-rational, you were not getting it out.

Like the time I got yelled at for catching Santa Claus on fire on Christmas. Because I put too many logs in the fireplace, yet somehow, he still delivered all of my Christmas presents. She went on for two hours about this on Christmas.

[Joel-last]

So when I turned 16, my father got me a little small pickup truck. I spent most of that year driving my mother around, which was one of the worst experiences of my life. We spent nothing but an entire year of arguing and fighting over the dumbest thing. Some parents are hard to learn to drive with. My mother literally picked about everything. Again, we got into a really strange argument about the fact that a bird pooped on her side of the window and somehow. I was supposed to dodge it, according to her. Again I love my mother, but my mother was crazy.

So finally, when I turned about 17 years old, I finally got to stop driving my mom around. When my first venture out did not help the situation with out my mother at all. And again, I somehow ended up on the news.

Now that I can drive myself. I did finally got to go and meet some more of my dad's buddies up at their training grounds without convincing my mom to take me or commencing one of them to come to get me. This year had been a blast going and doing Ranger training with them, knowing that I would go into the military once I finished high school. I was going to make all the other dudes look like chumps. Course, it wasn't fair. I had been doing military training since I was like 10 years old.

So it was Sunday, I was on my way back from hanging out with them in the woods for a week. So I had all of my gear in the back of my vehicle. As well as the AK-47 that was questionable with me owning it. So I pulled into a random gas station on the road back to the house. Now let me explain this gas station to you.

If you ever watched a horror movie and wondered when you pass a gas station if this is the one that chops you up into tiny pieces. I'm not going to lie. This probably was not the gas station. I would not stop myself if I was not out of gas. I was afraid I wasnot going to make it to the next gas station that I had no idea where it would possibly be. Gotta remember this was back before smartphones.

When I pulled in I swear that you heard the sound of dying souls when you pulled into the driveway to get gas. Like one of those gas stations you knew you were going were afraid that you might catch something from the toilet even if you stood up and hissed from as far as way as possible. Seriously, it was that terrifying. Like you thought you might get some foreign flesh-eating disease from the gasoline pump.

No, I did not want to stop here. But the needle was on E, and the red light was flashing. I didn't have a choice. So I pulled in with my pickup truck parked at the gas. And of course, this wasn't one of the places that you could use a card, not like I expected it to be. So I made my way inside the strangest store I had ever been inside.

In retrospect, I have been to some of the most desolate places in the world as a Ranger and when I worked for black ops. This also counts for when worked for the civilian black ops. For people that don't understand what I just said. There are civilian companies that do the things that the government is not allowed to do. You do some pretty fucked up **** and some pretty fucked up places, and you are not obliged to follow the Geneva Convention at all. Were not going to that. But none of those places have been as scary as this gas station.

I swear it was right out of one of the sets from Rob zombie's horror movies. And what I heard was the strangest thing I had ever heard before. It's hard to explain, but what sounded like a muffled scuffle where someone was trying to violate a pig, but there are several walls, so it was hard to hear. That is the only way I know how to describe the sound. At first, I thought it was a movie or something played in one of the other rooms. Then I heard this loud thump, and then about 30 or four seconds later, a door opened towards the back, and this guy came out.

[Joel-last]

So when the guy came out, he just walked right past me as if I didn't even exist in some number of a weird zombie haze, made his way behind the counter, sat down, and stared out the window. Besides that being weird as ****. It didn't help the fact the man was ugly. I don't mean like kinda ugly. I mean like so ugly that it made your skin crawl. The hair on his head was in patches, random patches, and where there wasn't there. Where the hair wasn't, there were scars. You can see stitches, and I'm pretty sure a good bit of them had creepy pie stuff coming out. Like he was out of some weird Grindhouse movie. His face was covered in scars and burns. The end of his nose looked as if it was chopped off. It didn't happen during surgery. It's just hard to describe his face. It still sends weird shutters down my spine.

So I made my way over to the counter gave it a few knocks to get his attention. He turns to me with that slow creepy motion like he was lurch from the Adams family with a creepy grown " eggnnrrrr" like sound. I was about to open my mouth and explain how much I wanted in gas when this bizarre adventure took to a whole new level.

A few moments ago, the door the man came out of Burst open with this loud bang. The door came out so hard that it swung all the way open, slammed into the wall, and bounced about halfway back. This lady comes bursting out of the door like a bat trying to escape hell, holding what I think is a baby. Let me describe her for you

[Joel-last]

I would say she's somewhere around 5'5 to 5'6, probably 120 to 30 pounds. She has long dark black hair that would come down past her shoulder blades. She has piercing blue eyes that could stop most men in their tracks. Her skin is very pale white is beautiful red lips plump lips. She has the Megan Fox look. But over her right eye is a horrible gash. Blood is dripping down around her eyes into her hair. It is also like the wound extends up past her hairline into her head.

She's absolutely butt naked. Her body is completely covered in dirt and filth, their dried blood randomly covering parts of her body, her feet. They like they have been bound and have multiple cuts. She looks at me. Her eyes are about the size of a half-dollar. She opens her mouth say something, and all that comes out is this screeching crackling sound as if someone had been screaming and crying to the point that their voice box is destroyed. Looking at me, I'm assuming about equal fear that she had from the creepy gas station guy because she didn't know if I was a culprit. She starts running towards the door.

Both of her hands are cradled around what looks like a baby wrapped up in a sheet. It is hard to recognize as a sheet because it very much matches her body, and it is equally as filthy and terrifying. She has the baby firmly pressed up against her chest to the point that you're not sure if the kid is breathing. I don't hear any sound coming from the child. At first, I assumed the child was dead.

The guy behind the counter jumps up. He points at the lady as if it was a scene from body snatchers. I swear to God that creepy sound from body statures comes right out of his mouth. No, I'm not embellishing. It was the weirdest thing to ever happen in my entire life.

To be honest, I'm pretty good at reacting to things normally, and my brain fires off in my body to decide action quickly. But I was absolutely stunned, confused, and paralyzed for like 2 to 3 seconds. At this point, she runs out of the gas station looking this way, and that is if she's trying to figure out where she's going to go. Then suddenly, it's like my brain came back to life after processing this bizarre, weird situation.

I reach over and grab the nearest shelving throw it to the ground making it more difficult for him to chase her out the door. The sounds of chips cans and all types of random store items heard crashing down as I'm bucket out the door for my vehicle. I know that's not going to stop him, and I'm pretty sure he is not the only person that I have to worry about. I'm trying to get back to my truck. I want my AK-47s, anything that I can put bullets down the range.

By the time I get to my vehicle, she is out in the middle of the road for anything looking one way and then the other. She crosses the road towards the woods. I'm scrambling to push down my passenger seat to pull out my gun any one of them I want the AK I first managed to pull out my pistol. I glanced creepy gas station guy who has a single barrel shotgun in his hand, pushing the doors open. I was concentrating on him when I heard another shot.

This lady came from around the back of the store. With a pistol in her hand and she just took a pop shot at as the lady darted to one side, managing to avoid being shot the lady hitting a tree. Strapped to her lady's back. I'm sure it was in AK or some similar gun, but I didn't really get a chance to look at it too long. I jumped into my truck. When I got myself wormed across my seats push open the passenger door, popped up, and took two shots at Mr. creepy gas station guy. Then pop back down for return fire from him and this new assailant. To my surprise, I missed him. Hey, you can't be on target every time. I guess I was able to distract them a good bit. As I can tell, you have rounds hit my truck. I popped back uptake a few pop shots at the crazy lady. I think I managed to hit her in the arm even though I aimed for center mass. As she makes a loud groan.

Been a lot more shots are taken at my truck and he as I'm playing peekaboo with two crazed killers. I knew what it was going to be on my door side soon. Depending on who sees who first, I can take the gamble and wait and get a perfect shot to the chest. But if both of them get to the door side simultaneously, I'm good as dead. So I decided to pull my passenger seat forward or throw myself behind it and my little two-seater truck, so I could likely get my AK that's playing in the floorboard, and I can fill a whole bunch of bullets down range.


As I managed to jump and pull myself over the seat, I heard the sound of a shot barely missing me. You can imagine how it sounded funneled through the truck the sound of a shotgun. Debris from my truck exploded out the other side parts of cushions and other parts when flying. The man was using buckshot. I didn't have room to grab the AK as I shook quite a bit. But I knew I wasn't going to miss from this range. I pulled up my pistol as he turned to realize that he had missed. I unloaded the whole clip to center mass whatever was left in there. That's heavily times I pulled the trigger, even several when I realized I was out.

I was stumbling around and grabbing that AK-47 that popped my head back up to try to figure out where the crazy lady was. She had passed my truck and was starting to head across the road when she turned around and shot a few times with her pistol, not aiming at the truck.

I hunkered down for a bit, then crawled myself out the other side did kind of an awkward forward roll to my feet. The lady was just about to disappear into the trees. I studied my gun and took several quick shots. I heard another grown. I'm pretty sure I grazed her again. The crazy lady started moving into the woods. So I gave chase.

I ran across that road as fast as my feet would carry me, getting to the first tree, putting my back to it, taking a peek around, then giving myself up relatively to guess in the direction that I think that she went. And about 10 yards finding another tree. As I pushed myself up against it, I made a good guest in the blood from the lady's shoulder where she leaned against the tree smeared against my shoulder. Please don't let this get me AIDS.

I see a trail of blood on the ground, spots and pieces here and there. Using my years of Ranger training, I start following it, moving through the trees and brush the best that I can, giving my gun up and glancing down and predicting her movements based on what I can tell she made moments ago. We are heading up a mountainish hill.

The lady was in her 30s or 40s it was like she was slowing her pace as the adrenaline was starting to wear off and her body was unable to keep up. I was gaining on her being 17 and in prime physical condition.

I suddenly heard the sound of the baby crying. Then I listened to the crazy lady scream, which I'm pretty sure was the crazy lady from the words that came out of her mouth. " I got you *****." I ran as fast as I could towards that sound.

[Joel-last]

The beautiful girl and the baby were backed up against a big rock. This looked like she had fallen and twisted her ankle. The crazy lady was about to fill her full of lead. I didn't have time to think my training took over, instantly pulling up the gun, my eyes going down the scope. Even though my heart was pounding, I let my years of training and breathing techniques that I was taught take over, slowing down the shake of my hand.

That I little rip five quick pop shots. Each one of them landed on the target. The crazy lady spun around as she went down. She let out a random spray of bullets like in one of that TV movie scenes, but none of them managed to be anywhere close to me. They were pretty high up.

I ran towards the lady with the baby taking my gun, setting it down, and pulling off my jacket to wrap her and it. I thought she would be relatively thankful, but apparently, this poor lady had been traumatized. With the freehand not to hold the baby, she tried to punch me with whatever strength that she had as the fear in her eyes told me that she was terrified I was going to do something or to her as well.

So I kept trying to explain and tell her that I was not here to hurt her that they were dead. She kept randomly looking back and trying to talk with one hand because her voice was destroyed in the quickie correctly sound every time she tried to speak. After a while, she seemed to calm down enough that I could make a makeshift splint out of some rope from my wrist bracelet, one of those emergency rope ones. And some of the branches and stuff that had fallen.

She refused to let go of the baby with a good bit of effort. I managed to limp her back down the hill. And get her across the road about the point where we got to the little overhang by the gas station she was not going any further. So I leaned her up against my truck. I pulled down the tailgate and tried to get her to sit on it. These were the days before cell phones. I had to get a hold of a landline from the inside and call 911.

After a bit of debate where she kept making frantic movements with her hands and me trying to explain that I had to call the cops from the landline because my truck would not run after being shot by a shotgun. I deftly knew I wasn't going anywhere as the green liquid poured out of the front of my vehicle as I knew they had deftly shot my radiator.