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profusely, a small red puddle in the snow next to him. I popped the tab on one of Ship’s beers and drank the whole thing down. Sloshing behind me made me turn around quickly.
    The rednecks were coming, although considerably less alive. There had been eight of them, two of them down for good, two beginning to stir, and four headed our way. All I had was my lighter and three beers for defense, and Ship was down for the count. I did the only thing I could think of, I ran right at them. I pushed down the only one standing and searched the snow. A hand wrapped around my ankle and I screamed an extremely unmanly scream. I found what I was looking for and picked up the cold metal. It looked like one of the guns from the movie Platoon, so I guessed it was an M16. First to go was ankle biter, who was dragging both me to his mouth and his mouth to me at the same time. I aimed and fired at his head, turning it to goo, but also having the gun buck and shake as I spit out about fifteen rounds. The shots went everywhere when I spun the weapon out of control.
    I used more control when I took out the others who were coming for me. One headed for Ship, but he was the one with no legs, and I was out of ammo. I picked up another of the same type of gun, but this one had a cool scope on it instead of that handle thing on the top. I peered through the scope and a little red dot was in the middle. I put the red dot on Quarterlegs’ head and ended his misery before he could snack on Ship.
    The big guy’s pulse was strong when I checked, so I gathered all the weapons and ammo from the twice dead hillbillies and stacked them near us, then built a fire. It was easy, as the A frame was now fully ablaze and I was able to get some burning stuff and drag it to where we were. I had also been able to slide Ship’s massive frame across the snow, although it was difficult, and we were now outside his locked shed. This was no ordinary shed or lock either. The shed was steel and the lock was a combination lock built into the door.
    I washed out Ship’s wound with snow. So happens it was just a graze, but he’s huge, and it was a scalp wound so it bled a lot. He woke briefly and was able to stand. He input the code into the door and fell through. I pulled his legs in, turned on the light and shut the door. There were a bunch of guns and backpacks and survival stuff in this particular shed. It also held another stove with some small pieces of wood and stacks of white bags of anthracite, which I thought could only be coal on a pallet in the corner. It sure burned well.
    He came to again some hours later, after I had bandaged his noggin with some stuff I found in the shed. I got him on a cot, and passing him the two items I went back into a burning tree house for, I asked him what went boom. He used the items to write one word:  Claymores , and he promptly passed out again, pen in hand.
    Oh, and the chipmunk? Poor guy had had the misfortune of running out underneath my bicycle tires when I was about eight. I cried for a week.

Retreat
     
    I kept an eye on my new friend for some time. I also tied his foot to the cot with a length of heavy duty orange extension cord just in case. His bandage soaked through in an hour or so and he stirred when I changed it. I took a look around the shed, which was about a hundred degrees in a half hour after I got the coal burning. I had used a piece of Ship’s house to help get it started.
    The shed had everything a budding survivalist would need: workbench, computer station, rack of rifles, gas masks, canned and packaged food and drink, and a bookshelf of “How To” books. The weapons from the dead rednecks were arrayed on the workbench for us to fight over when my pal woke up. Three M16s, two black shotguns, and a black rifle with a huge scope. There were also nine pistols of different types and a bunch of knives and machetes. I didn’t want to take the dead guys’ clothing as it was covered in gore, but I did search