Carcass Canyon

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard!

They had heard that the Carcass Canyon wilderness was said to be beautiful in November.  There just hadn’t been a November this wet in decades.  600 mile to get there in the brothers ’84 CJ-7 Jeep with the windshield wipers not getting a single break from the rain.

Everything was wet.  Their packs were wet, their tarp and tent was wet.  All their clothing was wet, their socks laid out on the jeep’s defroster, attempting to dry out.  All the gear is is one state or another of dampness.

There wasn’t anything around either.  The last real town, or what someone with a sick sense of humor would call a town was two days back.  It was nothing more than a dot on the map with some historic old hotel (only walls were still standing as the roof was long gone and a stunted willow-tree occupied the inside), a tiny one room “general” store and one half-way working gas pump.  They had grabbed what supplies they could, filled the jeep and the spare Jerry cans and headed of into the raining night.

Nothing else on the map for gas or supplies for miles!

They had awoke this particular morning to the promise of only a cloudy day.  But as the brothers continued to follow the right hand ridge of the canyon rain began to fall not long into the morning.  It just made every muddier!  Soon they were slipping and sliding their way in the jeep, inch by careful inch down the canyon.  Red clay was sticking to everything.

By noon the rain had reduced to a steady drizzle.  But potholes were everywhere.

By 5:00 pm Barrett and Rick figured the had reached their next point to head east again and planned to get down to the river below and cross up into the next ridge where they had figured they would find a road and ultimately their target.  Unfortunately, when they got to the edge of the canyon there was no way down!  All they could see was a 400’ wall down to the river for miles in both direct.  So the scouting began as the cloudy skies begin to darken.

Barrett, driving, found a ‘sand slide’ that seemed to match up with a point of the wet map.  It looked tricky but they trusted the jeep’s ability to get them down over the slick rock.  It was a long slide down the red sandstone-dune to a ridge that a cut into a steep wall at the bottom like a knife slicing into an overripe animal carcass.

It was promising until they slipped.

The jeep’s wheels slipped a bit too much to the right and the vehicular equivalent splitting wooden log with a sledgehammer happened.  The jeep plummeted 15’ feet, wrenching the front axle, smoke billowing up from under the hood.
The two brothers were in the middle of some forgotten canyon deep in the desert of enemy territory, wet and stuck and out of luck!

In the Water and in the Dark

Barett and Rick sat in the absolute dark for a few seconds, they knew that Utah couldn't have blown the main transformer and power line coming into town, so either the Zombies were up to no good or something else was at play.
Barett Clicked the radio button to reach Utah.
"Copy." Utah replied dryly, a tiredness in his voice.
"Give me a situation run down."

Barettt covered his and Rick's situation, and the suggestion they disable the ship, to gain some time.
"Roger that, on your way out to the boat, look for Maria, she fell out during the flight over the open water, status unknown. We will provide what support we can from the shore. contact me once you have a chance on the boat."

"Roger, wilco. Give us ten, and we will talk again."

Barett pulled down the mike and leaned into Rick.
"Looks like Maria is taking a swim in the bay, fell out the helicopter. We have the go ahead to disable the ship. They will give tactical support from the shore. How good a swimmer is Maria?"
Rick Thought for a quick second.
"Pretty good, as long as she was awake when she hit, she should be fine."
He started pulling off his gear and clothes, stuffing them into his pack.
'Let's go for a quick dip"

A time for a retelling

We have been working on our Coontail Brother story now for 5 years. For the past year, I and Barrett have been so busy with our work and life in general that we have not had the time and energy to work on this site. I am sure there is no one following this blog at the present time because we have not been putting up any regular posts for a number of months now.

 But I don’t want the stories to die because I don’t have time. So today, I applied a different template layout on the blog and decided that it is time to re-engage in the story telling. This story is primarily about highly skilled in a number of area but ultimately flawed individuals who happen to be brothers.

 The two oldest are fraternal twins, Utah Blaine and Barrett Coontail. Utah uses his ten minute head start entry into the world as an eternal propagation to claim the position as oldest and leader. Utah is intelligent, decisive, strong willed, arrogant, hot tempered and over compared to an abrasive surfaces, but at times can be charming and caring. Utah believe in living up to a moral code and living within standards. He likewise has faith that leaders of the country and military will in due course make acceptably appropriate decision and should be followed for the most part.

Barrett is likewise very intelligent and cunning but has a deeply embedded mistrust of any political figure as he assumes all people in power make their decision based solely upon shellfish and self-serving reasons and hence, government in any form is principally flawed. So while Barrett will work within the confines of a military or civilian organization he keeps himself aloof and in his mind, aloft of the inner workings of society. 

Rick is the third son and a bit of a showoff. Like his two older brothers, he is intelligent and quick in grasping the severity of a given situation but whereas Utah and Barrett takes on challenges head first, Rick often comes at things sideways. Though Rick is quite friendly, moreover jovial, and charming, he is also very vain. His focus is often on material possessions and is a collector of gorgeous women. Though Rick may seem to care about others emotional state and well-being and has the ladies figuratively eating out of his hands, he is habitually oblivious to their true feelings which inevitably leads to a number of spurn lovers out for his head planted on a stake.

Dave Crockett is the youngest of the brothers and is in all probability the most intelligent of the three. He is capable of both thinking and envisioning possibilities and dealing effectively with the here-and-now but he often times overlays these thoughts with an involuntary sense reckless immortality. He can be as charming as Rick but more personable and unpretentious. People who meet him for the first time find him to be the ideal brother who is cool, witty, and good-looking. But inside there is a deep contemptuous darkness to him. He thinks of himself as an idiosyncratic rebellious outsider.

~My goal is to tell the story of the adventures of the Coontail Brothers starting in the middle while they are in Europe.  I plan to post at least once a week and the telling will be through post and not through added comments as we have done in the past.   If you wish to add a comment about a post, please do so and give use some feedback.  We would like to improve our writing ability, for ultimately, this is what this blog is about, trying my hand at writing a good story.

Going into the Drink

It was still raining. Through the gloom out over the bay she could just make out the large yacht in the harbor. “Everyone, get ready”, Utah said as he clicked on the instrument panel and the big puma came to life. “This will be a very short flight.” Maria sat in the back of helicopter with the princes who looked nervous. Maria understood her feelings as her hands slid up to double check her shoulder strap that held the MP-5 to make sure for the tenth time that is was secure. She was nervous too. They would be assaulting the “Kristina O” less than 2 minutes.
The Puma left the ground. The combination of relatively slow speeds compared to a plane, and proximity to the earth and sea offered her the familiar feeling of unparalleled intimacy with flight that only helicopter pilots knew so well.
The helicopter rose slowly, going up vertically for several meters and for a second or two Maria felt and odd sensation as if the machine was going to slip backwards into the buildings behind them. Then Utah tipped the craft forward slightly and instantly they were over the water of Jelsa bay. They began to accelerate and head out toward the waiting yacht.
Maria focused her eyes on the yacht through the darkness of the night and rain. She could make out some movement on the deck and she became acutely aware that things were not going according to plan. They had waited too long to fly out and her fears that Roman would become suspicious were being realized. From the deck of the “Kristina O” about 300 yards out, a small but intense light on the deck flared to life. “Look out!” She screamed as she suddenly recognized what she was seeing. They had just fired a rocket propelled grenade at them.
But Utah has seen it too and he was already taking evasive maneuvers.
The helicopter swung hard and rolled to the left. But they weren’t high off the surface of the water. Maria grabbed in vain for something to hold onto but the sudden turning threw her clear out the open side door and she fell backwards into space, falling and watching the helicopter attempt to dodge the incoming rocket as the water level rose up. A second before she hit she saw the rocket collide in a violent explosion into the tail of the puma.

Suicide Mission: Attacking the Cristina O' in Port

Utah didn't like the quiet, it was a bad sign. Sitting in the dark, the metal cooling and clicking in the background, while they sat staring at each other. Everyone was thinking the same thing, there was a good chance they would all die, and the E.o.H would get its minerals back.
Finally Barett spoke up.
" Look our best chance is with the element of surprise and a method of non-restraint. I understand that Roman is very important, but the Minerals are probably the most important thing to save and remove from anyone but us using, so I suggest we slap on these dead dudes uniforms and armor, fly this bad boy helicopter back to the ship while two of us launch a small attack on the ship. That should create enough confusion that we could lure out the biggest players. We plan on killing everyone but Roman and save all the documents we can. It is a little harsh, but should save a few of us from dying, maybe."
Barett defered back to Utah, hopeful that he had a better idea.
Utah scratched at his scabbed up forehead wound and scowled, it was his thinking face Barett and Rick recognized. Finally he spoke up.
"Alright, we go with Roach's plan, with this modification. Save anyone you can that is not, I repeat not shooting at you or trying to kill you. I will not be party to another civilian massacre. Rooster and Roach you plan the attack on the ship, you have ten minutes before I fly this helicopter back to the ship. Lets try to keep the boat afloat and sea worthy. I want to move her to a safer location when this is all mopped up. The rest of you gun up and suit up, every rider a gunner, no exceptions."
The princess went to make a protest about shooting at the ship, but stopped herself, knowing there was no sense in it. It was it was and there was nothing she could do, but leave, walk into the darkness of the town and hope not to be killed by the zombies, or ride with them to the ship and hope not to be shot.
Barett and Rick tossed some gear into their packs and trotted off into the dark towards the dock and ship, disappearing quickly into the darkness of the old city.
Utah once again started through the series of checks to get the Puma warmed up again while Maria helped the others put on bloodied gear and uniforms securing weapons and gear to the deck.
Bianca slid into the co-pilots seat across from Utah, and tapped on the log book.
" Don't you think one of us should stay behind with the evidence and secure it, in case something happens. At least that way we could hedge our bet and reduce our damages if this mad run fails ?"

Jelsa: Time to Lighten the load

Cresting a small rise the Town of Jelsa spread out to the right and left of them, the Harbor straight ahead. Even with the darkened sky, and rain smeared windshield Utah could tell it was a beatiful city.
The argument in the back seat subsided as each one tried to get a better view of the town.

"Ok, looks like we made it to Jelsa. First things first, we secure a safehouse, get dry and wait for dark to move to the harbor and do some recon. We have lots to do and I need everyone rested for tonight. This will be a full 48hrs into the conflict which means we should have friendlies showing up soon, I don't want to shoot any of them. Rooster will find us a good spot and we can get out of this sardine can."

The Port of Zavala on Hvar Island

The hills rose up dramatically from the sea at this small town of Zavalal, the white sands of the beaches were inviting and Utah wished he could spend some down time here, just laying about for a few days. Several large three story homes, white washed with red tile roofs poked out of the green trees and bushes, it was a larger town than the map indicated, but held a direct road to Stari Grad and Hvar. He eased the motor down and found a shallow bay that the anchor would hold the smaller Yacht steady on. Grabbing his Rifle from the floor, he dialed up the scope setting on the big .50 cal and started scanning the beach and then each house close to them. He checked his watch, 4:30 pm local time, no one was moving from what he could tell, to early for dinner, to late for lunch, something was wrong.

" Anyone see anything, Good, bad, out of place ?" Utah spoke out loudly, just short of a yell.

The girls all nodded in the negative, but Barett and Rick just stepped into the bridge with him. With the girls all standing on the front deck of the boat, eyes glued to various scopes or binos, Rick spoke up, low and serious.

"Its way to quiet, nothing is moving, granted we have a limited view, but all the boats at the dock are still tied up, none of the local fisherman are out on the water, no one is on the beachs. It's a literal ghost town, nothing moving." Rick nodded towards the four white fishing boats still tied to the end of a private dock.

" I'm with Rick on this one, the town got hit, and good. There is that one new power boat tied up with the other older fishing boats that looks out of place a good place to begin our search for answers. But I think we are safe to say they saw what we saw last night. We sure could use a Helo right now, I say if we find some sort of air transport we take it, never know when it will come in handy. Are there any good airports on this island ?" Barett pointed to another dock that held a long nosed red and white speed boat, next to some old wooden fishing boats.