Money was spent on drugs and other emergency supplies.
Some was stashed in caches in the woods near the homestead. Some were farther away on public land.
There was no telling if things were going to get worse or not. There were promises of better times, but how many times had the powers that be lied about everything else?
Steel or tin cans had to be stashed in caves or other places that didn't get overly damp.
Medical supplies could be stored anywhere as long as they were completely water proofed.
I loved camping and going down rapids but I wasn't doing it for fun this time.
I saw a line of vehicles and people making their way up the ridge line. From my vantage point, I could see probably 3 miles and I didn't have much time.
This place was fairly inaccessible and I had taken the time to make the road up to my place even more so: washes across the trail, dead-fall, various types of wild thorns and briers...
I only had about an hour to vacate.
I stopped at one of the first caches on my egress. I had several ruck sacks there packed for whatever season I happened to be fleeing in.
I grabbed a small varmint rifle, some ammo, a sleeping bag, coat... the things I would need for a few days until the intruders left.
This stash would be safe here unless they had a tracker.
There were no trails and I always meandered through the woods.
"What are they looking for?"
Weekend freewrite prompt various
Image taken by me at Moccasin Creek State Park, Georgia, USA, on the trail to Hemlock Falls.
