I know you may never get to read this, but I can’t stand being away from you, and I am hoping this will make me less lonesome for you. I wish now that I had let the bank take the boat. I probably could have hired on with Dan Sutton or Mike Everhardt. It would have galled me to take orders from either one of them since their daddies both shipped with me but I could have gotten by. If not for my darn pride I would be back in Bay Minette now with you and Libby and Cubbie.
Let me catch you up to all the craziness hat had happened here. I already wrote you about the shipwreck and all the good men that went down. I plan on giving these letters to someone to carry home for me if I don’t make it. Please do what you can for those men’s families. Scratch that, I’m sorry Mable. You have been a fisherman’s wife for nearly 40 years, you know what to do and I trust you to do right by them. I just ain’t myself when you ain’t here.
Anyhow, so I told you about stumbling onto shore and running into the Plains Folk. I spent some time with them and I got to say I like them pretty good. In some ways they remind me of a lot of folks back home. They are proud and honorable folk, although they are a bit stuffy for my taste, but nice enough. So the Major fella that Abrams sent along got a hold of a video of the raid, and it turns out it’s some of the fellas that have been hanging around this whole time. Worse then theivin’ though, one of these fellas is caught on the tape murdering a man in cold blood. I’ll have more to tell you about him soon. Anyway, so these Plains Folks decide that they have the right to try him for this. I gotta say this made me nervous since the killin’ happened on my boat but I decided I was a guest and the Plains Folk seem serious enough about doing right by everyone. So then they tell us they are going to try this fellow Rand that helped some of the others get to that creepy temple I told you about. I didn’t think this was OK at all, but the Rand fellow seemed to accept it and I kept telling myself I shouldn’t mettle. So the fella asked if anyone would be keen to witness for this Rand fellow. I figured the day that Luther Wiley don’t stand by a man that done stood with him is the day that Mobile Bay ices. So I stuck my hand up and said I’d be more than honored to be a witness. I figured this was like one of those witnesses in court back home where you stand up and tell folks that the fella on trial is a good man and don’t kick his dogs and such. So they ushered us into this pit, which I figured is a court house for these folks. So I’m all trying to get my words together when I start hearing this growling from a pit and folks start throwing spears down to us. Now, I guess at least they weren’t throwing spears AT us, thank God. Anyhow, we ended up fighting this dinosaur. I say we but I mostly just tried to keep his attention while the young fellows killed it. Don’t worry about me though Mable, I know it sounds dangerous but we had it totally under control.
So then here I am thinking that fighting a dinosaur surely must be enough, but then they take Rand and the fellow what killed that man into a tent and we hear a commotion. I followed as quick as I could and found them declaring Rand dead! They were putting him into a hole and they all came through saying how he was dead to them. Then they buried him, breathing and everything! Now this is where I had just about had enough, I ran in and was able to dig him up before he ran out of air, but now all his own people just ignore him, even his own kin!. So after making sure Rand was ok (by the way he wants us to call him ghost now since he’s dead) we noticed that the other fellow (he goes by Trake although I don’t think that’s his Christian name) had a collar around his neck. It was the craziest thing I’d ever seen. There wasn’t any sort of welding seam or screw that I can tell. I don’t have the first clue how they got it around that fool’s neck. Anyway they finally tell him that the collar keeps him from killing folks, or at least anything that talks. No I have no idea how that works, but trust me, it does, I’ll tell you more about that later.
So after all that, I was thinking I might want to find a nice shady spot to lay down for a bit, when the head local fellow tells me that to get this guy his name we got to go to this mountain. I don’t even know what that means, but I’m sure it won’t be fun. I decide we are going to need some chow and such to get to this mountain, and decided to see if I couldn’t get Ghost’s kin to help me out. So I stopped by his momma’s house. Unfortunately that troublemaker Trake decided to follow. I talked to that poor woman and she was generous enough to give me some hatchets and enough food for all of us surface folks for a few days. Anyhow, then this fool Trake starts mouthing off to this woman and getting all fresh. I was like “Son, you best be civil with this here woman”. You know me, baby, I can’t stand for a man to talk like that to a woman. Anyhow I guess this young buck had had enough for the day cause he backed down and we got out of there.
By the time I had gotten back to the main part of camp the other fellows had decided we should go check up on the Rambler and make sure there was no more stuff there we could take. So we get there and you wouldn’t believe how bad the Rambler looks, those locust have stripped all most everything of any value. It’s a mighty hard thing to look at. So we are there when someone sees the track that the bandits took with our jeep. So we decide to follow them that stole our stuff. We tracked through the woods for a good long time before we come up on this cave and some fellows with guns. So all the guys I’m with think we should just shoot it out. I figure this ain’t a Western and I’m no Sly Stallone so I decided to try to talk to this fellows. I think I got them talk down quite a bit, they gave us all our stuff back in exchange for just this broken space looking ray-gun thing. Anyway, everything is all cool, and this fool Trake (I’m talking about him too much) goes and shoots a guy. Well apparently that magic collar or whatever it is works, cause the darn fool passes out. I forget to tell you I was already in the jeep, so I just stomped on the gas and got out of there with Rand and Lance (he’s one of those fellows we picked up in Miami, you may remember him). So then I did something and I still don’t know what I was thinking. I went back for those fools. I still can’t believe I did that. Anyway we go back and the bandits had left Trake and his friend all by their lonesomes in the woods so we get them and high-tail it out of there.
I’m thinking we got away Scott-free when Trake and his buddy Davos (is that some kind of Italian name?) start in about how we need the ray-gun thing I traded cause of some mechanical spider or some such and before I could ask them what they had been smoking, we hear this god awful racket and wouldn’t you know it, it was that kinda day, there was a giant spider chasing us. So we start trying to outrun it when we run up on a downed tree. Then this robot fellow comes out of the sky and demands everything we got that is metal. Now obviously we can’t give him all our metal stuff, or else we will be near on helpless. So I tried to talk to him but he ain’t hearing it. Anyway, we start fighting this fellow and his spiders, and I start looking through the junk that Abrams sent with us when I run across that crazy science fictiony robot I told you about. So I can’t figure out the fool thing and so I finally just start talking to it like we were on Star Trek or something and the crazy thing just comes to life and starts shooting lasers. That was pretty much the coolest thing I have ever saw. Anyhow, now we are finally back at base, and I am looking forward to catching some shut eye.
I love you dearly and wish I was there on Dearing lane with you, your’s truly,
Letters to Mable #1