Journey To Pueblo

Journey to Pueblo

By

S.A. Norsworthy

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 by S.A. Norsworthy

All Rights Reserved.

Chapter 1

The Journey Begins

It hadn’t been caused by a giant meteor strike, nuclear war, super volcano, or any other major disaster so many had predicted. It started with the worst economic downturn since the great depression. The world never recovered. More and more lost their jobs. Cities, counties, and states went bankrupt as taxpayers became fewer and fewer. Eventually even the US government began to fall apart. The military held together for a while, but soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines deserted in droves since they hadn’t been paid in months. Everything, everywhere, began to fall apart. As the US went, so went the world.

Then came the plagues. The first was reminiscent of the Black Plague that ravaged Europe so many centuries before, but this one was different. It was a super plague. Antibiotics had little effect upon it. It was just the first. As the existing stocks of medications were consumed the world only got worse. Drug production was non-existent. With each new sickness more and more perished. Then there were the riots, first over food, then water, then over just trying to stay alive. Many believed God finally had enough and decided to correct the situation Old Testament style. Others thought mankind was reaping what it had sown. Whatever the cause, the world had changed forever….

Glen, what do you see?

Not much, just a lot of empty houses, cars, the usual.

Any movement?

Nope, not so far.

Frank took a step closer to Glen and motioned for him to hand over the binoculars. Glen passed Frank the army issue binos. The two men were overlooking a lone housing development. They picked it for that reason. A small subdivision with a handful of houses had generally been the most fruitful, and typically the safest. In Pre-World it would have been a street filled with kids on bikes, moms planting flowers, dads cutting grass, and neighbors cooking hamburgers and hotdogs on their grills. But not anymore. As Frank peered through the lenses his trained and experienced eyes began to focus on the split level at the end of the block.

See something Frank?

I’m not sure, but I am fairly certain I saw movement.

What do you want to do?

We can wait here for a while. From this little hill we have good observation in all directions. If we have to, we can E & E down that draw to the left that leads to the creek. I don’t see any reason to move now, besides, we have been walking for the better part of the day. Glen nodded in agreement. The men rarely disagreed.

In Pre-World Frank had been Glen’s commander. As Army Rangers, they knew how to handle just about anything thrown their way. Glen had been Frank’s right hand man, his First Sargent. Both men had the utmost respect for each other. They had been through a lot, both in Afghanistan and North Korea. There is a special bond between combat vets, and an even closer one between a company commander and his First Sargent who have experienced the horrors of war together. They still considered themselves professional soldiers. Frank and Glen had stayed to the end. They had been part of the 1st Ranger Battalion at Hunter Army Airfield in Savannah, Georgia. After all their company had left to go home except them, Lieutenant Colonel Holden their battalion commander, came down to see them. He told both men he was giving them an order to leave and go be with their families and take care of their personal business. He also told them to take whatever they wanted and destroy what was left, so that is exactly what they did. So their journey began.

As the unfiltered sun began its drop to the horizon, the two men started digging around in their rucksacks looking for something to eat. Frank pulled out an MRE, vegetarian no less. When Glen saw it he laughed.

What the hell you laughing at?

I just remember all the times in the past you turned up your nose at those vegetarian MREs. Now you treat them like a five course meal at the Ritz.

Frank smiled. You’re right Glen, it’s all a matter of perspective. Do you have any left?

I ate my last one yesterday. Glen pulled out a pack of peanut butter crackers and a Three Musketeers bar, his favorite.

Whoa,…what’s the cause for celebration?

What do you mean?

Glen you are eating what has to be your last 3 Musketeers bar.

Yep, you’re right. I figure I better eat it soon or it may go bad. Remember I got it back at your brother’s house in Atlanta.

Man, that was a while ago. Yeah, you better eat that thing soon. Frank sat down, leaning on his ruck. He picked up his M4 and blew some dust off the rear sight. You eat first Glen.

Fine by me.

The men’s training and war time experiences stayed with them. One of them was always at the ready, as the Army called it, 50% security. Glen leaned up against a nearby boulder and began to eat his crackers. Each one he ate slowly and deliberately, letting it linger in his mouth.

After the second cracker he paused, Frank, do you remember when Corporal Smith was taking a crap and fell ass-first into that cactus?

Frank began to smile. Of course, but what in the hell made you think of that?

I don’t know, I guess just looking around at this place reminds me a bit of the Arizona desert and when I think of that desert I think of Smith and the medics pulling the cactus spines out of his ass. I don’t know what made him suffer more, the spines or the hell he caught from his buddies afterwards.

Both men began to laugh out loud.

Yeah, after that he was always referred to as Corporal Cactus.

As quickly as their laughter started, it stopped. It was almost dark and time to get serious about the job at hand. Glen quickly finished his crackers, then he put his unopened candy bar into an empty magazine pouch.

Frank, aren’t you going to eat?

No, not now. I think I’ll wait till later.

Frank stood up and stuffed the unopened MRE back into his ruck. He picked up his ruck and dropped it onto his back. Glen followed suit. Both men pulled back on the charging handles of their M4s and peered into the ejection port, ensuring they had a round chambered.

You ready Glen?

Yep.

But what about the movement you thought your saw earlier?

Frank put the binos to his eyes and took another look at the houses that lay before them. I didn’t see anything for sure. It could have been just a curtain blowing. Who knows?

Frank, we have always erred on the side of caution.

I know, but we are almost out food, and we could definitely use more meds, you know, just in case.

If you want to bypass these and keep moving it’s no sweat off my back.

Naah, let’s go ahead and see what we can find.

Okay Sir!

Glen, what have I told you about me calling me sir,… First Sargent!

Both men smiled thinking about the past. Glen moved over behind the big rock he had leaned against earlier and took up an over watch position, his weapon pointed directly at the little subdivision that lay ahead of them. Slowly Frank moved down the hill. He settled in behind a large log. Glen was next, down the hill he came. Frank and Glen were doing exactly as they were taught. One taking up an over watch position while the other moved. It worked in combat, no need to invent something new. They covered the two or three hundred meters of open ground leading to the edge of the subdivision quickly. Their movements were almost silent. No talking, not even hand signals. They had been together so long and knew each other so well they were almost telepathic. Frank ran up to the first house. He quickly surveyed the doors and decided the open garage door looked like the best point of entry. He nodded to Glen. Glen slowly stood up, and then ran at a full sprint to the side of the garage opposite from Frank. Frank let Glen catch his breath, which didn’t take long. Frank nodded and at that instant they both whirled into the garage. With their M4s at the ready they slowly walked through the garage looking for anything of value, not in Pre-World’s since of value, but in the new world of survival sense. Glen cautiously bent down and picked up a cardboard box. He rummaged through it and then placed it back down while looking at Frank and shaking his head. There were a few shelves against the back wall, but nothing was on them. They were simply reminders of how a world of plenty had quickly turned to a world without. Now came the part they always hated, going into the house itself. It was a necessary evil. To survive they had to scrounge. Houses were the main places left to find anything of value. Stores, hospitals, schools, were all the first places survivors went. Occasionally the two men would venture into one of those places, but the results were usually the same…nothing. Now houses were the holders of anything of value, as well as things to avoid. What once was the symbol of the American dream had now become synonymous with horror, terror, and death.

Glen leaned into the kitchen with Frank at his side. Both peered into the growing darkness. They had night vision goggles, but had long ago run out of batteries. They still carried their NVGs in hopes of some day running across some good old army issue lithium ion batteries. As they entered the kitchen they stopped to listen. Just as they had been taught years ago when you first enter into a combat zone you stop and listen, especially as night. The Army called it adjusting to the sights and sounds of the battlefield. Without night vision capabilities a soldier’s hearing becomes his most valuable sense. Things had changed, at least somewhat. Now a good sense of smell was almost as valuable as a good pair of ears. Frank and Glen had run across quite a few people who kept dogs just for that reason. Dogs were few and far between though, as one of the plagues that hit mankind had also ravaged the canine world. Glen took in a deep breath through his nose. Only stale air, nothing more.

As the two men methodically moved through the house they carefully and quietly opened cabinets and closet doors. Glen stuck the muzzle of his M4 on the edge of a bathroom vanity door and slowly pushed it open.

Holy Crap!!!! he said in a yelling whisper. I don’t believe it.

Frank crossed the room in a split second. As he crossed the room the distinct click of his safety could be heard going to the fire position. What the hell is it Glen!?!!?

Glen reached into the vanity and pulled out a four pack of Charmin toilet paper.

Son of a bitch Glen, we hit the mother lode!

They smiled and quietly laughed at their good fortune. Not only was TP great for its originally intended purpose, but it was like gold when it came to trading. As the men stood up a gentle breeze moved through the window blowing the curtains ever so lightly. At that instant both men‘s nostrils picked up the scent. They immediately crouched down, staying just tall enough to look out the window. Their eyes strained, opening wide and searching for the source of the smell.

Frank, over there. Glen pointed towards a large 2 story with a three car garage.

Yeah, I see ‘em.

How many do you see Glen?

I’m not sure, but I would say at least 7 or 8.

Man, even from this distance they really stink!

Do you hear that? What the hell are they laughing at? I’ve never understood why some of them laugh like that. Glen let’s get the hell outta here.

I’m with you.

Each man took two of the rolls of toilet paper and quickly stuffed them into their rucksacks. Soon they were ready to move. With the same precision they entered the house the two Rangers moved back to the garage. They quickly scanned the street and the open ground that lay ahead of them.

You ready?

Let’s go!.

Both men hit the street at full speed and headed back to the hill they had occupied earlier. They ran around the base of the hill to the backside. Slowly they crept up to the top ensuring they never silhouetted themselves against the night sky.

You think they saw us Glen?

No sign of them as far as I can see

Do you think they can smell us the way we can smell them?

Not sure, they’re so screwed up its hard to tell what still works on them. We better put some distance between them and us before we settle down for the night.

I agree Frank.

Frank pointed toward some hills on the horizon. He was looking at a good old fashioned army issue lensatic compass, one his grandfather had carried in Vietnam. Frank’s granddad gave it to him he when just a kid. Frank had never gone on a mission without it. He wasn’t particularly superstitious, but…That hill is west/northwest. Let’s hit it and get it.

Off they went.

The two men rarely walked close together or side by side. Like almost everything they did it was a result of the way they were trained and their combat experience. With a little distance between them it would make it harder for them both to be hit by the same shooter, IED, or any other type of booby trap. It also gave them a little room to maneuver should the situation require it. They thought and acted like they were each a full 5 man fire team. Nowhere except in basic training do soldiers move as a two men team, with the exception of a sniper and his spotter. Glen was an experienced and very adept sniper. He had actually spent some time at the Army’s sniper school at Ft. Benning as an instructor. The two Rangers moved across the fairly open terrain ahead of them at a quick pace. Even though it was dark they still didn’t care much for moving across ground with few places to hide, or more importantly to provide cover. In daylight they would very rarely cross an open field, but the darkness provided a limited bit of security. They were nearing the edge of a rolling field they had been walking across for the last 30 minutes or so. Ahead of them was what appeared to be a large forest, one with a mixture of both hardwoods and pines. When they were within 100 yards or so of the edge Glen noticed his boots were brushing against some thick, large leafed plants. As he looked down he saw yellow squash. Glen immediately dove to the ground and flipped his selector switch to fire. Frank followed suit. He looked over to Frank and said quietly Diggers!

Frank high crawled over to Glen. He took up a position looking the opposite direction from Glen. Their combat boots touched, but not by accident. This was a combat dance these men had done many, many, times. Each man was responsible for half of the 360 degree perimeter they were now defending. They remained completely motionless, except for their eyes and very slow movements of their heads. Their boots touched so if one saw something they could communicate through their boots to the other. They had stumbled across a Diggers food patch. Diggers were the people who went underground when things went bad. Frank and Glen guessed a lot of them were the doomsday preppers who had been expecting and preparing for an apocalypse and had built underground shelters as part of their preparations. Others were normal people who just thought they would be safer hiding underground. Diggers generally weren’t bad folks, but if they thought you were going to steal their food they would defend it. Many of them shot first and asked questions later. Frank and Glen always took the stance of being prepared to fight. As they laid in the darkness they looked and listened intently. Diggers were good farmers, but not so good tactically. To defend their food they had to at least partially expose themselves. That meant opening a hatch or door enough to get a shot off. It also meant making noise as they raised that door or hatch. Frank and Glen had seen some really dumb ones who didn’t even kill their lights before opening their hatches and it was like sending a signal saying, Here I am, shoot me! Diggers were always close to their crops, it was the only way to defend them. Some even had makeshift periscopes. Glen was worried someday some of them would figure out how to build periscopes with remote controlled weapons attached to them.

After lying in the squash patch for over an hour Frank tapped Glen’s boot. Glen turned quickly expecting trouble. Frank motioned for Glen to move towards him. Glen crawled backwards, never taking his eyes off the half of the perimeter that was his responsibility. He crawled backwards until his head was next to Franks. The men began whispering just barely loud enough to be heard, Glen, I think if they were going to take a shot they would have by now, what do you think?

Yeah, you’re probably right. Maybe whoever is on guard duty fell asleep.

Do you want me to rock em?

I think you better.

Frank slowly turned around so his was facing the same way as Glen. Glen then reached into his right cargo pocket and pulled out three smooth river rocks. He put them in a pile next to his right hand. He took one and from a prone position threw it as far as he could directly to his front. Both men watched and listened. Nothing. Glen took the second rock and threw it directly to his right as far as he could. They watched and listened. Nothing. He took his last rock and threw it directly to his left, same process as before. Nothing. Glen was a hellava rock thrower, and for good reason. He had been an all-state pitcher in high school with a 90 mph fastball. Rocking was a method the men had developed as sort of a recon by fire for cavemen. Recon by fire was a method made famous in Vietnam. It consisted of firing rounds into the direction of where you think the enemy might be and see what happens. Frank and Glen never wasted precious ammunition doing this. Plus if you started firing live rounds every Tom, Dick, and Harry for miles would hear it. Rocks were plentiful and free. After waiting for 10 minutes the two men slowly stood up. They moved quickly to the edge of the field and once reaching the woods they again dropped to the prone repeating the same SOP as in the field. Diggers often dug in on the edge of a wood line. It gave them much needed cover and concealment when they came above ground. It was hell digging through the tree roots, but many diggers thought the security outweighed the need for extra digging efforts. Neither man took any of the squash. They wanted to. It had been at least a month since they had any fresh vegetables or fruit. They refused to compromise their principles. Stealing is stealing. If they were fired upon by Diggers and had to return fire to defend themselves they would generally take a few of whatever was available. They considered that as payment for having to defend themselves and use up very hard to come by ammo. Often the diggers would fire only warning rounds. When that happened Frank and Glen would call out to them and ask if they were interested in trading. Many a successful trade has started out with the exchanging of gunfire.

The two Rangers waited another 10 minutes after getting into the trees. Frank again tapped Glen’s boot and gave him the signal to stand up. Simultaneously the men stood up, spread out a couple of meters and headed through the woods following Frank’s compass. After walking a few more hours they reached the base of a small hill.

Frank I think that small patch of trees just off the military crest of this hill might be a good place to spend the night.

I agree, let’s move up and check it out.

This was a departure from the standard Ranger method of establishing a patrol base. Normally you would stop short of your intended base location in a spot you felt you could defend if need be. Then you would send an element forward to recon the intended patrol base location. If everything was okay the main unit would then move up and occupy it. Frank and Glen began to do what was called occupy by force. With only two of them they had to modify their tactics.

As the men moved up the hill their steps were beginning to become sluggish. Both men were tired. They were in extremely good physical condition, at least considering the circumstances, but it had been a long and arduous day. Back in battalion both were PT fanatics. They could run a 10k in under 35 minutes. They could easily bench press over twice their body weight. Now they were lean, mean, survival machines. Frank had dark brown hair and stood 5’10". Glen was the bigger of the two at 6’ with light brown/reddish hair. Both tried to maintain at least a minimal military look about them. They shaved every two or three days. They would get their hair cut when moving through a town, if of course a barber was available. In Pre-World they would both have been called ruggedly handsome. Now they were beginning to look older than their ages. The elements were taking a toll on them. Both men had a dark tan people would have paid for in Pre-World. Their skin was starting to take on a leathery appearance from the sun and wind.

As they reached the little patch of trees they sat down. Frank I will do the 360 this time, you’re looking a little spent there Ranger.

Thanks Glen.

Frank got down in the prone as Glen prepared to move out. Glen walked directly ahead of them about 20 meters or so. He then circled around the patch of trees looking for anything or anyone. As he headed back to Frank’s position he gave a good imitation of a quail. It was his way of letting Frank know he was coming back in.

I didn’t see anything to cause me to think this isn’t a good spot.

Sounds good to me.

Do you think we should put out the cans?

Frank thought for moment. I don’t know Glen, what do you think?

I think we are in a good spot with no signs of trouble.

Plus to be honest, I’m just too tired to hang em

Me too. The cans were an early warning device used way before the days of technology. It was a simple, yet very effective method for letting you know if someone was approaching your position. Wire would be hung about knee high around your position. Then cans with rocks in them would be hung on the wire. If someone hit the wire with their legs the rocks would rattle around in the cans creating a sound that would let you know possible trouble was headed your way.

Glen, do you mind taking first watch?

No, go ahead and catch some shut eye time, I think I will have my last can of apricots.

Do you want some?

No thanks Glen.

If it wasn’t your last, maybe.

Beside you know me, if it’s a choice of sleeping or eating I always chose to sleep.

You know Frank, as many years as we have been together I have never asked you why that is, I mean why you chose to sleep first, eat second.

Simple, I can eat while I’m walking, but I can’t sleep while I’m walking.

Glen chuckled, Man, how simple but how profound.

Frank laid back on his rucksack in sort of a semi-reclining position, his M4 across his lap with his right hand still on the pistol grip. He shut his eyes and within seconds he was asleep. Glen sat back on his ruck as well, but he remained wide awake. He looked down at his Timex and it showed 0100 hrs. Glen and Frank both had much better watches, but an expensive watch was an invitation to trouble. This day and time people were being killed for much less than a good watch. No matter what you possessed, you always wanted to appear as if you had nothing. The poorer you looked, the safer you were. Glen continued to look, listen, and smell. In between his security checks he consumed his can of apricots. Occasionally he would stand up and stretch, then settle back onto his rucksack. Back in battalion leaning back on your ruck was called the rucksack flop and was generally frowned upon. It was something the legs would do. A leg was a non-airborne soldier, a soldier who never graduated from jump school and been part of an airborne unit. To a Ranger, a leg was a sub-standard soldier and any Ranger worth his salt would not want to take up a leg’s bad habits. Times were different now. The enemy was different. The world was different.

At 0400 hrs. Glen very carefully nudged Frank, careful being the key word. If either man were awakened too quickly they might very well come up swinging or shooting. Frank, whispered Glen.

Frank opened one eye, then the other. My time?

Yep.

Damn, I swear I just closed my eyes two seconds ago.

You want a couple more hours?

Naah, it’s my turn.

Frank sat up and looked around. Anything?

No, pretty quiet, just the usual animal sounds.

Any two legged animal sounds?

No, just the four legged type.

Frank stood up and walked down the hill a few yards and relieved himself. He walked back up and sat down on his ruck. Glen, know what I have come to hate the most about this world?

No, not really. What?

The fact that we can never, ever, fully relax and let our guard down.

Yeah, even back in Afghanistan and North Korea there was always a time and place where you could sit down, relax, sleep, eat, do whatever without having to worry about anything other than when you would have to ruck back up and head back out.

Frank, there have still gotta be a few of those places left somewhere in this world.

I’d like to think so Glen.

Maybe someday we will be lucky enough to find one. On that happy note Frank, I am going to rack out. Glen took up the same position Frank had earlier, leaning back on his ruck with his weapon across his lap. He pulled the brim of his boonie cap down over his eyes and was immediately asleep.

Frank scanned the area, looking for any signs of trouble. He hoped for a boring night. Boring was now a good thing. He thought back to his childhood, remembering what his mother had said when he would wish for something exciting to happen. Frankie, be careful what you wish for, you might just get it. Boy, was his mother ever right. First two wars, and now this. He longed for the days of boredom. Suddenly Frank’s nostrils picked up a scent. He took in a long deep breath. He took in a second deep breath, attempting to get his olfactory working to its fullest extent. This smell was different. This time it was a pleasant smell, or was his just hallucinating? He thought back many years to when he was in Ranger school. He remembered all through the mountain phase he smelled French fries. Many Ranger school students hallucinated. There were many stories about students trying to put money into trees to get a Coke or candy bar, following imaginary women off into the darkness, things like that. It came from being in a state of total exhaustion and hunger. No, he was not hallucinating. He really smelled something nice, but he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Frank thought about waking up Glen, but decided against it. Glen was sleeping peacefully. Glen and Frank both suffered from nightmares, so if his best friend was sleeping well he was going to let him. Frank tried to pinpoint the direction of the smell. The breeze was slight, so he would have to do the old lick your finger trick. Frank stuck his finger in his mouth then pulled it out and waited to see which side felt the coolest. Ah, that direction, west/northwest, the same direction they had been heading before they stopped for the night.

It was about 0700 when Glen woke up. He sat up slowly. Hey Frank, do you smell that?

I have been smelling it for the last three hours.

Why didn’t you wake me up.

"No point.

We can check it out anytime."

But what if it goes away?

West/northwest.

Frank that might be a good omen, a good smell from the direction we are headed.

Man I hope so.

You wanna eat or head for the smell?

I’m not particularly hungry, let’s walk a ways and see what we find. In their usual fashion the two Rangers donned their gear in preparation for another day of walking. Okay Frank, I’ll take point. During daylight the men would spread out even more. They took turns walking point. Walking point was the Army’s way of saying, you go out front and take fire first. They shared that responsibility equally. Frank pulled out his compass and pointed the direction he wanted Glen to go. Point men can’t be looking down at a compass, all their senses need to be monitoring where they are going to hopefully see trouble before it sees them. The men walked for about 15 minutes before Glen stopped. He dropped to one knee, Frank followed suit. Glen motioned for Frank to come forward. Frank moved to within a couple of feet of Glen. Frank, mother nature is calling.

Okay Glen, do your thing.

Hey do you want to splurge and use some of the TP we found last night? Glen thought deeply about that one. It was tempting, but he thought it better to wait and keep it for trading, at least at this point in time. No, I still have one pack of MRE TP left, I’ll use that. Frank reached into his ruck and pulled out one of the soft, clean, new, scented rolls of Charmin. He moved over closer to Glen and waved it under his nose. C’mon Glen, treat yourself for a change! Both men immediately broke out into laughter. What a world, when one of your biggest treats in life is to use real toilet paper!

You said it Frank. Hey, why not? Glen dropped his ruck next to Frank then took the roll, his weapon, and entrenching tool and moved over behind a nearby tree. He opened up his e-tool and turned the blade down to form a pick. He leaned his M4 on the tree and then dug a very shallow hole. After that he knocked most of the dirt off the blade, placed the opposite end, the handle end, down next to the hole. He dropped his pants down and sat down with one cheek on the blade. All good infantrymen were well versed in field craft. Being able to take a comfortable dump without soiling yourself was a learned and valuable skill. After dropping his load Glen carefully unrolled a few sheets of the soft new TP and wiped. Ahhhhhh. That feels sooo gooood. He pulled up his paints, scraped some of the dirt over his fresh droppings, picked up his weapon and walked back over to his rucksack. Well Glen, did you have a TPO?

A what?

A toilet paper orgasm.

Glen rolled his eyes. Frank you are the only person I know who can relate sex to just about anything."

It’s a gift Glen. Glen smiled. Frank, I think it’s because you are the biggest skirt chaser I have ever known.

Glen, I am a young, single, strikingly handsome Ranger Captain. God gave me those gifts, how could I not use them?

Okay Frank, don’t bring God into this. Glen was a devout Christian. He had never given up on his faith, even in this day and time. Frank had been raised a Catholic. His mother took him to Mass every Sunday. Sometimes his dad would go, but not every week. Frank had never renounced his faith, but he felt God had abandoned the world. Glen, it’s not my fault you married so young. As soon as Frank got the words out of his mouth he felt regret. Glen had not seen or heard from his wife and daughter for over eight months. Frank, do you think they are still alive? Frank knew exactly who Glen was talking about. Glen, Thao is a very smart woman. On top of that she has more common sense than ten other people put together. She knows how to take care of herself. I am sure she is fine, it is just a matter of us finding her and Mai.

I pray for their safety every day.

I know Glen, so do I. Glen turned and looked at Frank. Yeah, you heard right. I don’t think God will pay much attention to me but I figure it can’t hurt.

Thanks bud, I appreciate it. Both men sat in silence for a few minutes, lost in their thoughts. Well, we’re burning daylight Frank. Time to ruck up. As they stood up they both looked back at where they had come from. A habit. Always check your six before moving forward. They dropped their rucks on their backs and headed for the smell, west/northwest.

They moved through the woods with ease and military grace. These guys could be the poster children for tactical precision. The trees ahead of them began to thin a bit. Then the smell hit them dead in the face again. What is that Frank?

It’s weird Glen, it seems like a familiar smell but I just can’t put my finger on it. The Rangers saw the terrain start to change from forest to more open land. Glen occasionally would look back at Frank to ensure he was going the right direction. As they reached the edge of the trees Glen stopped and took a knee. Frank moved next to him. Glen, I think I figured out that smell.

Really, well what it is it?

Dryer sheets. Glen looked at Frank like he was nuts. Dryer sheets!?

Yeah, dryer sheets.

Are you sure?

I remember going for runs in my neighborhood back in Savannah and smelling the same type of smell. I used to think it was some girl who must have gone that way recently and her perfume was still lingering.

Why doesn’t that surprise me Frank?

"No, seriously, that was what I thought it was until one day as I got back to my house from a run my neighbor came out and asked me to help him unload his new big screen TV. We had to walk through his laundry room to get it into the house and