Goldfish on the Mountain Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Hank was crawling around the woods as carefully as he could not to get noticed. He knew better than to be sneaking around during the day but he knew the man was out of the house during the day and it was his chance to get into the cabin for himself and see just what the creep was hiding.

Hank had set up camp a few miles from the cabin. He wanted it to look like he was out hunting or hiking in case he was caught. He threw his sleeping bag on the ground then set up a fire pit for cooking.

Hank is a survivalist. He could stay out in the wilderness with just his pocket knife for days and be okay. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. His plan was to lay low. He took just enough supplies to make it look like another one of his treks into the wild.

He liked being out in the wilderness. It gave him a sense of peace. It wasn’t from the quiet or tranquility, it was being out of the watchful eye of ‘big brother’ that gave him a sense of relief. He pulled out a personal pouch of coffee beans and set up his old fashioned fire-powered coffee maker.

“This is all I need right here, a cup of Joe, some trees and the critters crawling around. No spies, no satellites stealing my brainwaves and no government computers downloading my thoughts into that super highway the people don’t know about,” Hank said to himself.

He brought a couple of cans of beans and some potted meat just in case. He didn’t have time to figure that out today. He set up the camp as a decoy. He had to get into that house. Hank began his trek through the woods early He knew the man went out hunting or fishing early and didn’t come back until late in the evening.

I don’t know what this fool is up to but if the sheriff ain’t man enough to look into it then it’s up to me to be a model citizen. Stupid sheriff works for that lousy no good Government anyhow. This guy was hiding something. All my years hiding from the feds has taught me one thing it’s how to spot a paranoid person who had something to hide. I am determined to get the bottom of this mystery.

Hank was walking through the woods in the general direction of his suspect. He was doing his best to stay of hiking trails. He knew these woods better than anyone in the area. He was certain of that.

As he was walking Hank began humming the words to his favorite song. It was the fight song from his high school. He loved remembering all the poor saps he want to school with. It gave him a sense of satisfaction knowing he was able to cut himself free from the government’s stranglehold while his peers went off to be brain-washed by the man.

It was a ten mile trip to the outskirts of the property that housed the cabin he was looking for. Hank was covered in soot and leaves. He wanted to blend in with his surroundings as best as possible. Pushing a branch out of his way he could see the cabin off in the distance. He was getting closer. Hank left early in the morning. He wanted to make sure he had as much opportunity to snoop around inside the house as he could. He had scoped out the guy before. He knew what his routine was. Hank was counting on the man being like all other people, creatures of habit.

When Hank arrived at the fence he ducked down. He noticed something unusual. He spotted the man coming out of the back door pushing a woman in a wheel chair. The woman looked battered and bruised real bad. This was exactly what Hank was looking for, proof the man was up to something. Now, Hank figured he had to get closer to see if he could figure out who the woman is and what he was doing to her.

Fortunately Hank brought his long range hearing device and his binoculars. He decided to hold off checking out the house. He was going to see how close he could get to the couple. He needed to know what the two were up to. He followed the two from a distance, keeping low and out of sight.

This guy is clearly up to something. I don’t know who that woman is but I haven’t seen her before.

Hank situated himself a good distance back wedge himself inside a bush and a tree covered in foliage. He figured it was good cover. He pointed his listening device towards the couple. He wasn’t too interested in whatever the woman had to say, from the looks of it she wasn’t likely to do a whole lot of talking anyways.

At first he wasn’t get much, a few muffled words here and there. Then he pushed a branch out of his way and got a clearer shot. Headphones turned up, tape recorded set to recording Hank pulled out his binoculars to see what his subject was doing.

Hank heard something that caught his and he immediately checked to make sure his recorder was recording.

“I had already gotten a taste for death after Brandon died and then I talked Jennifer into killing herself. That power of knowing I could decide whether a person lives or dies, it changed me, consumed me. I went to medical school so I could become a doctor, not to save lies but to savor in the lives I would lose. Sometimes I would slip up, on purpose, and let a patient died. I always made sure it looked like we did all we could.”

Hank sat there listening to the two talk, watching them for the rest of the day. Fortunately he was a survivalist. He dug around in the dirt, picked up a couple rocks, pushed a log out of the way and hit the jackpot, a host of critters to nibble on while he waited.

Hank snacked on all the bugs his appetite could handle while he continued recording until the two went back into the house. He knew it! This motherfucker was a murderer and Hank had all the proof he needed. Hank didn’t even consider taking his evidence to the sheriff, no sir it was up to him to confront this monster and put an end to his killing spree. Hank would be a hero, and he would get the credit without letting the lousy government get involved at all. It was perfect.

Hank, survivalist, hunter, enemy of the state and now he was set to be a hero coming to the rescue of a damsel in distress. Life was giving him a second chance and he wasn’t about to throw it away.

There was just one problem. Hank only brought his hunting knife with him and a pocket knife he kept in his boot. His other weapons were back at the camp in his backpack. He left them buried in a hole covered with leaves at the campsite. He was going to have to trek back down to the campsite, grab his gear and head back up to the house

Hank knew what he had to do. He quietly backed out of sight of the man and his captive. In the back of his mind he knew this was the right thing to do. He quickly dismissed the idea of calling the sheriff.

There is no chance in hell I am going to trust anyone who wears a badge to do the right thing. For all I know the sheriff is in on whatever it is and that’s why he wouldn’t properly investigate. Damn the man is what I always say.

It took Hank an easy 2 hours to get back to camp. He had to go slow, laying low so not to get noticed. By the time he got back to camp it was mid-day. At that point it was a little too hot for him to make his way back up the hill. He decided he would wait until dark to head back up once it was cooler. He pulled out squirrel he caught earlier in the day out of his trap. He broke its neck and began cleaning it before he cooked it for lunch. He sat there on a tree stump eating his cooked wild squirrel and a can of beans.

This was the way Hank enjoyed life. No government. No technology. No people. He enjoyed being isolated in the woods. Despite everything he lost, he finally felt as if his life was fulfilled. He had meaning. He had a purpose now. He was going to take out that man, free the girl and then retire to a quiet life as a hero.

As he finished his meal he had an image from a distant memory flash in his mind. It was that time he took his own kids out hunting. For a brief moment he let himself remember the life he lost. Just as suddenly as the thought crept into his mind he chased it off with a swig of whiskey from his flask.

Oh no you don’t. I put that life behind me.

Hank drank until he passed out.

Published by

Stephanie Bri

A transgender writer who also does podcasts and videos. If you like my writing please consider helping me survive. You can support me directly by giving money to my paypal: thetransformerscollector@yahoo.com. If you prefer CashApp my handle is @Stephaniebri22. Also feel free to donate to my Patreon. I know it's largely podcast-centric but every little bit helps. Find it by going to www.patreon.com/stephaniebri, Thank you.