Rocy Mountain Hell

This story was inspired by another story I read recently. I apologize, but I don't remember the story or the author. It is a long story (I think about 22 pages on Literotica). The gist of the story is that a man is being prosecuted for a rape that never happened. The DA is fabricating and falsifying the evidence in order to convict him. The DA wants the conviction so he can get appointed to be the Attorney General for the USA. The guy discovers the frame-up and knows that he can't win. Instead of being wrongfully convicted, he disappears into the Rocky Mountains to hide. He is relentlessly pursued, but continuously evades capture. If anyone knows the story, please let me know what it is and who the author is.

The particular inspiration for this story came late one night while I was thinking about a particular part of the story. He was eventually found when the government used reconnaissance aircraft over the Rocky Mountains and discovered a stone cabin up in a high valley. They determined that someone was living there because the photos showed that a garden had been planted and was being tended to. The government officials decided that he was living there and mounted an assault on the cabin to kill or apprehend him. In reality, they really didn't know if it was him living there. They simply decided that they didn't know who else could be there, so it must be him.

Suppose they were wrong. Suppose someone completely unexpected lived there. Suppose that they couldn't comprehend that they were wrong. Suppose that even though it was someone else, but they were convinced that he was there as well but hiding from them. This is my story about that.

I do apologize to the author of the original story for not contacting them for permission. I thought that I had favorited the story, but apparently, I didn't. Again, this is a completely different story with different characters and a different plot. I will only touch tangentially on their story as needed.

There is no sex in this story. If that is what you are looking for, hit the back button. I am submitting this under Novels and Novellas because I frankly don't know where else to put it. There really isn't much of a back story on any of the characters, but I might delve into that later if this story is popular enough.

'Fucking bastard.' I thought for probably the millionth time. It was late Spring, and the weather was clear. I was currently riding a horse up a narrow trail deep in the Rocky Mountains. Behind me were the six pack horses that I had purchased for cash. Each one of them was loaded up with as many supplies as I thought they could easily handle for the trip ahead. It would be several days before we reached my destination. I figured that I would need several more trips before the beginning of autumn and I would need to start preparing for winter. You didn't survive winters this high in the Rockies without proper preparation.

My destination was a small stone cabin high in the mountains that sat on the side of a lush valley. There was a river that ran at the base of the mountain that the cabin sat on. On the other side of the river was a large meadow. The meadow turned into a forest of trees on the other side. My grandfather had accidentally found the cabin while he was hunting several years ago. He found a journal from the original builder. He was a trapper that wanted to get away from civilization. He built the cabin over several years. In the end, he died from wounds he suffered from being attacked by a Grizzly Bear. He managed to kill the bear, and he lasted about a week before finally succumbing to his injuries. Grandpa cleaned up the cabin and used it as a hunting lodge for several years. He took daddy and me along when I got old enough. I was going there now to start my new life among the mountains.

Background information. My name is Lacy Coultrain. I'm a 35-year-old woman that just walked out on my cheating bastard of a husband. I used the month that he was on a 'business trip' to prepare for my exit. Yes, I knew a few months in advance that he was cheating on me. I used that time to prepare and get everything set up. I was going scorched earth on his ass. Her, I didn't worry about. According to the PI, she didn't know that he was married. She was just another dumb bimbo that life and Karma would deal with.

About me. I'm 5'6" tall. Think of the epitome of a red-haired, blue eyed Irish lass, and you will have a close approximation of me. No, I am not a big breasted bimbo. My breasts are in the mid B range. I am slim and work out several days a week. I have been hunting with my grandfather and my daddy since I was big enough to hold a rifle straight. I am also a very proficient shot with a handgun. Currently, the scabbard of my horse holds a .243 Savage rifle, and I am wearing a holster with a 9mm semi-auto pistol. I have a few other guns in my packs, along with several hundred rounds of ammo for each.

Now, you may be wondering about that famous Irish temper and why I hadn't cut my husband's dick off. All I can tell you is that spending the next decade in prison isn't worth it. Besides, as a beautiful Irish lass with lots of connections to the Old Country, you can always find someone else to do things like that for you. LOL. There is no paper trail, I have a rock-solid alibi, and I ain't sayin.

OK, so why the extreme measures? One, I was completely disgusted with his actions. Second, I transferred all that rage on men in general. The only two men I trusted were my grandfather and my daddy. Unfortunately, both had died. I then found out that most of my supposed friends had known about his cheating and never bothered to let me know. Fuck civilization. If there was no one that I could count on to have my back, I would go it alone. I did try that back home, but they would just not leave me alone. That's when I decided to just disappear.

As soon as Asshole left on his trip, I put the house up for sale. It was just in my name, since it was a gift from my father. I priced it to sell quickly. In our safety deposit box, we each had a POA in case of emergencies. I used that to sell his daily car, as well as his 1970 Mach 1 Mustang. I cleared out all the accounts, sold literally everything, including several expensive collectables tat he had owned since he was a child. There were even a few pieces of heirloom jewelry that he had inherited. Yep. Cash-for-Gold took them for a nice price.

A week before he was scheduled to return, I called 'Give-us-the-vin.com' and got a decent price for both cars. I used the POA to complete the transactions. His 2021 BMW, and my 2009 GMC 4WD truck. With cash from that, I purchased a used 1997 Chevy pickup off of Autotrader. I had a cousin register it in his name. I packed up all of my old camping gear in the truck, along with whatever I thought that I would need at the cabin.

Over the internet, I had previously purchased several panniers and had them shipped to a ranch outside of a town somewhat close to my ultimate destination. I had already purchased seven horses from nearby and had them stabled at the ranch. Of course, they were all in assumed names and purchased through PayPal from anonymous accounts.

Three days before Asshole was scheduled to return, I transferred every single penny from every account to a dummy account overseas. Yes, that included the three personal accounts that he thought I didn't' know about. Life lesson; never try to fuck over someone with a PhD in Computer Science. They can see what you are doing online.

Just for fun, I then maxed out every credit card that had his name on it. Yes, that would throw my credit score in the toilet for the next several years, but I really didn't care. The last thing I did was to go online and cancel both his and his girlfriend's airline tickets home. That should buy me a couple of days, not that I would need them, but I would take them more time anyway. Every day would put me that much harder to find. My cousin dropped me off at the ranch, then turned around and drove home. He decided to sell the pickup when he got back home and used the money for a down payment on a newer truck.

I had enough with the supplies and assorted necessities to fully pack the six pack horses I had purchased without overtaxing them for the trip. Over the next couple of months, I made several more tips until I had everything back to the cabin. The first couple of years were rough as I spent most of my time fixing up the cabin. I had to install the solar panels, build a structure to keep the horses during the winter, cut firewood for the upcoming winter, hunt for food, and several other chores to make survival in the upper Rockies possible.

Over the next few years, I upgraded the cabin. First off was more solar power to charge up my electronics and keep my WiFi operating. OK, so the first two years it was sporadic and depended on the weather for the solar to work. The third, fourth, and fifth years, I was getting battery backup and inverters. With six pack horses, I was only able to take a certain amount on each trip. Eventually, I had things set up to live a solitary life. It wasn't actually decadent, but it was comfortable. It suited me at the time.

Why did I do this? You might ask. Simple. I gave up on other people. I had been betrayed by most of my friends as well as my husband. I simply no longer wanted to associate with people. I wanted to get far away from the human experience. I was much happier by myself. I had had enough 'assembling with others'. Fuck them. I just wanted to be alone.

Last year, I fenced off a small area in the meadow near the river and started a spring/summer garden to raise fresh vegetables. It was a real pain to have to travel into town regularly to purchase vegetables for my dinner. After all, you can't survive on meat alone.

Little did Lacy know that her little garden was about to bring her solitary life crashing down around her. Unknown to her, a massive manhunt was underway. There was a fugitive from injustice that had escaped into the Rocky Mountains to escape a corrupt DA that had fabricated evidence against him for the rape and murder of a 17-year-old girl. In truth, she died from a botched illegal abortion that took place at a party he happened to be at. He found her in agony and bleeding profusely. He tried to assist her, but it was too late. She died on the way to the hospital. The DA for the city was being one of a few candidates to become the Attorney General for the United States. He saw a chance to increase his chances with this case. Somehow, the mysterious death of this girl became national headlines. If he could get a conviction for this, his name would get a lot more recognition, thus increasing his chances.

He had the county Medical Examiner falsify the autopsy to state that the death was caused by a violent rape. He also blackmailed several 'witnesses' to testify that the man raped the girl, then tried to cover it up by supposedly trying to help her. The man saw that he had no chance at a fair trial and that the forged evidence would frame him for a crime that he did not commit. Instead of staying there and trying to fight against the frame-up, he ran to the mountains and intended to live in freedom away from the corrupt system.

With the notoriety of the man fleeing justice, as well as being involved in a few incidents that were turned against him in order to make the victims look better, the DA was indeed appointed as the United States Attorney General. Knowing that the fugitive, if he ever spoke out, could cast doubts on the case and ruin his career, the new Attorney General put all of his authority into finding and silencing the fugitive.

It was Lacy's garden that ultimately caused the problem. The attorney General had spy planes fly over the Rocky Mountains looking for any sign of the fugitive. He had successfully evaded law enforcement for several years. Two separate photographs showed a plot with straight furrows near a river. Also in the photographs, a small cabin was seen. This was also within 100 miles of the last known sighting of the fugitive. It was determined that this must be the fugitive's hideout. After all, no one else was known to be living anywhere near there. A plan was made to send a massive force to take the fugitive into custody.

I was sitting outside on the rock shelf that I had turned into sort of a deck. It was a mid-spring day, and the weather was nice. I was reading a book and enjoying a nice wine that I had made. From a bunch of grapes that I had purchased last summer. I made it last summer, fermented it, bottled it, then let it age in one of the caves at the back of the cabin over the winter. I had finished cleaning out the cabin from the winter earlier in the day, and decided to relax for a few hours. I would need to make a trip to town to restock several things. Thankfully, meat wasn't an issue at this point. I had shot a nice elk a couple of days ago, and it was now fully dressed and aging in one of the cool caves. I would butcher it in a couple more days, then store the meat in the cave that I packed ice in. Later in the year, I would probably need to start salting the meat or turning it into jerky if I couldn't use it within a couple of days.

As I was relaxing, I became aware of a strange noise that continuously got louder and louder. Soon, I was able to distinguish that the sound was caused by helicopters. Several helicopters. Yes, I had heard the distinctive sound of a helicopter over the years that I had been living here, but they were usually far away and going somewhere else. Never were there more than one of them, and never coming so close to my cabin.

I sat and watched as about a dozen helicopters of various types came in and landed in the meadow across the river. I heard a low growl from beside me.

"Easy boy. Looks like we have uninvited guests. We'll be OK as long as they stay on their side of the river." I eased one of my pets. "Still, I should be prepared."

With that, I got up, went inside my cabin and returned with my Savage .243 rifle and two 9mm handguns. I watched in amusement as men jumped down from the helicopters and began scurrying around. I lifted a pair of binoculars to my eyes to see what the hell they were doing. First off, I noticed that several of them had jackets with FBI stenciled on the back. Others were in obvious military fatigues. Well, this should be interesting.

I continued watching as most of them began making a large camp. A couple dozen of them came down to the shore of the river and set up a watch on my cabin. One man in one of the FBI jackets stood on the shore and raised his own pair of binoculars to look at me. When I saw that he had focused on me, I deliberately raised up my rifle, then each handgun to show him that I was armed. I then raised my hand and gave him the finger. He responded with a causal wave of his hand. I continued watching as they set up their camp. Over the next couple of hours, the helicopters left, then returned several more times. Each trip included unloading more people and supplies.

Things began to escalate later in the afternoon. I watched as a couple of rafts were brought to the shore of the river where the bank sloped down. They were those military type of inflatable rafts with outboard motors on them. That was completely unacceptable to me. Time to set the boundaries. I got up and went back inside. I returned a moment later with another one of my rifles. I didn't use this one much. In fact, the last time I used it was when I saw a huge fully grown male grizzly going after one of my horses. I've spent many hours during the winters after that relaxing on my bearskin rug in front of the fireplace.

As they began getting the raft ready for the jaunt across the river, I took careful aim. Just as the first soldier was about to climb in, the rifle kicked hard against my shoulder. Without conscious thought, I worked the bold to load another round in case it was needed. It wasn't. The first .50 caliber round that was sent on it's path tore through the skin of the raft and began deflating it through the enormous hole that it rent in passing. These rafts are built to withstand small arms fire. What they won't withstand is a large caliber jacketed round. Everyone near the shore dove for cover thinking that I was shooting at them. The only exception was the one guy holding the binoculars. He stood tall and didn't move a muscle.

I turned my scope onto him. He kept his binoculars on me. I watched him slowly lift his hand above his head and wave at me. He finally lowered the binoculars, turned to the men now laying on the ground and spoke to them. Several of them slowly got back on their feet, moved cautiously to the other raft, and carefully pulled it out of the water. When that was done, he turned back towards me, raised his hand and waved. With that, he turned and followed the others back towards camp. I did notice that he left half a dozen of his men at the shore with their weapons to keep watch.

When it finally got dark, I decided to go to bed. I wasn't really worried about being attacked. I had an early warning system. More on that later. I was asleep for maybe a couple of hours when I was suddenly woken up to daylight. OK, so I didn't have a clock. Frankly, with the life I live, I didn't need or even want one. I was aware enough to know that it was still night and that the sun was nowhere close to being up.

"Fucking bastards." I grumbled.

I got out of bed and marched out to my deck. I took another fun toy with me. I cupped my hands together and brought them up to my mouth.

"HEY! ASSHOLES! HAVE SOME RESPECT! TURN THOSE FUCKING LIGHTS OFF, OR I WILL DO IT FOR YOU!" I hollered.

Knowing what was about to take place, I went back inside. It's comforting to know that you are protected by several inches of rock and steel. I waited for five minutes. The lights were still on. I sighed. I gave them a chance. I lifted the modified AR15, took sight and let loose. It took one full magazine per light stand. Five magazines later, and it was dark again. Next, it donned my night vision goggles, picked up the .50 cal rifle and took aim. Five generators would no longer be working. It took a few minutes for the return fire to die down and I could go back to sleep.

I was up wit the sun the next morning. Per my usual, I sat out on my deck with my morning coffee. I looked out and saw that there were a dozen armed men lined up on the far riverbank. I decided to ignore them. I had no idea what they wanted, and I really didn't care. As long as they stayed on that side, they really weren't a threat to me. Actually, unless they came at me in mass, even if they did come to this side they weren't really a threat. A dozen or so, with the proper warning, and they wouldn't really stand a chance. I had no question tat my early warning system would let me know in plenty of time.

It was mid-morning. Breakfast and cleanup was done. With all the excitement yesterday, I hadn't showered. On top of that, I was behind on my grooming. OK, sure. It wasn't like I had anyone to groom myself for. Still, I did like to take proper care of myself. I mean, suppose something bad happened, and I had to go to the hospital or something. I didn't want to look like some sort of wild crazy woman or a bohemian hippy. Aside from that, I had noticed in my perusing of the interlopers yesterday that there were a few attractive women mixed among the other agents and soldiers. Fuck them. They showed up uninvited. That was no reason for me to change my normal routine.

With that, I stripped off my shorts and tee-shirt. Grabbing my towel, I strode outside. I had two separate bating locations. When the weather was decent, normally in the late spring though early fall, I preferred to use the shower out on the deck. First off, it was easier since the water ran through a channel off the deck and didn't require any cleanup. Inside was just a tub, and I would need to drain and get rid of the water. Second, there was just something freeing about being naked outside under the sun. So, I strode out onto the deck completely naked, oblivious to the crowd across the river.