John-Boy and Jason ran into the clearing. John-Boy's hands had grown tired from carrying Ike's rifle. Jason glanced over to his older brother. "Say…um…John-Boy, do you mind if I carry the rifle for a little while?"

The young writer glanced down to his borrowed weapon and then to Jason. "I guess it won't hurt anything. Here you go." And with that, he placed the weapon into his younger sibling's hands. Jason fingered the wood and metal combination of the weapon, the icy cold of the barrel prickling his skin.

"Come on," John-Boy said abruptly, motioning forward. "Let's go look for the others." Jason nodded in agreement, following his brother deeper into the woods.

Suddenly, out of the blue, a gunshot rang out, followed by two more, in rapid succession. Both of the Walton boys flinched, and Jason's hands tightened around the rifle.

"Wha—What was that?!" Jason asked confusedly, his face now fixated in an expression of fear. John-Boy gulped. "Gunshots. I'm going to guess that Mr. Winshaw must've found what he was looking for."

He turned to Jason. "Come on. Let's go." Jason nodded, stretching out the rifle. "John-Boy—here. You take it." The older Walton boy nodded. "Sure, Jason." He reclaimed the weapon and turned to the direction of the shots that had been fired, and then the two took off into the woods.


Jim-Bob felt the stinging pain in his leg as soon as the bullet hit.

The shell hadn't passed through Jim-Bob's skin; actually, it had only merely skimmed his leg. The young boy collapsed in the dirt, looking down to his leg. Even among the shadows, he could catch a glimpse of crimson-red blood leaking from the wound.

He mumbled something under his breath out of earshot of Elizabeth. The red-headed girl skidded to a stop, turning around. "Jim-Bob!" she cried out, darting back to her older brother, stopping at his side. But he was already climbing to his feet. "Run! I'm fine," Jim-Bob muttered, shoving Elizabeth ahead. She didn't have to be told twice.

A yell sounded out from behind them. "Hold it, you! There's nowhere else you can run to! I know I've hit you!"

A puzzled look came over the two Walton children's faces. "Is that…Mr. Winshaw?" Elizabeth asked. Jim-Bob shook his head. "I don't know, but it doesn't seem like he's in a friendly mood. Just keep running!"

Elizabeth nodded, darting ahead. Jim-Bob trailed closely behind, ignoring the pain that the bullet had aroused in his leg muscles as he ran as far as the injured limb would allow.


Cameron Winshaw cursed, lowering his rifle. "I know I hit him," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. The dense woods had begun to make him start to sweat.

Cameron continued his trek through the woods, his weapon cradled in his arms. He was going to get that killer and make him pay for the murder he had committed if it was the last thing he did.

And if it came to killing, he would do just that.


Mary Ellen and Erin couldn't feel more excited to see their house and the familiar landscape than they did once they entered their yard. Smiles of hopefulness covered their faces as they bounded towards the front porch.

"Mary Ellen—" Erin started, but her older sister cut her off. "Not now, Erin; just get inside! We'll have time to talk later."

Erin nodded, jumping up the first step. Mary Ellen followed close behind. She tossed a glance over her shoulder, watching for the stranger. He wasn't in sight.

The front door swung open and Olivia and Esther rushed outside. "What's gotten into both of you?" Olivia asked, hands planted firmly on her hips. Erin shook her head. "We don't have time to explain, Mama!" she exclaimed, pulling her mother inside. Mary Ellen shoved her grandmother before her.

"Be careful, Mary Ellen!" she snapped. "Don't go around shoving your elders."

Mary Ellen spoke firmly next: "But Grandma, Mama, you don't understand! There's a strange man outside; he separated us from the rest of the children and he hit Ben and John-Boy and…oh, where's Daddy and Grandpa?!"

The distress was very clear in her voice. Olivia turned to Esther. "Grandma, get the front door. I'll go get the kitchen door." Esther nodded, moving to lock the door marking the front entrance into the house.

Olivia marched into the kitchen, striding right to the secondary door. After locking it, she turned…and ran face-to-face with the gun rack where John's weapons were kept.

Slowly, she reached up and fingered the weapon's wooden stock, removing it from the rack. "Oh, what am I doing?" she asked herself, returning the weapon to its place. "Lord knows I'm never going to shoot a rifle, especially at another human being!"

She sighed, marching out into the living room. "Where are John and Grandpa…"


John heard the gunshots when they had been fired just as Jason and John-Boy had.

He stopped mid-step and turned, his gun held tightly wrapped in his fist. He quickly started to run towards the sound of the gunshots, his weapon ready to fire if need be.

His sprint cut short once a figure came into view. The shadowy shape was wielding what appeared to be a hunting rifle, and he was aiming it in a direction where two other figures—both of which were smaller than him—were running off.

John recognized instantly that they were Jim-Bob and Elizabeth.

"Hold it!"

The figure heard his yell as John raised the pistol in his hand, pulling back the hammer. "Don't make a move!"

But the lone man didn't listen; quickly, he ran to a nearby tree and popped off two shots, both of which sailed over John's head. The Walton man ducked down, firing his sidearm at the mysterious figure.

Suddenly, from behind John, a trio of bullets whizzed by, firing off at the figure in the distance. John spun around, only to see John-Boy standing close by, his weapon's barrel trailing with smoke. Jason stood close to his brother's side. "John-Boy! Jason! Am I glad to see you boys!" John spoke happily, smiling.

The two nodded to their father. "Same here, Daddy. Is that the stranger?" John-Boy asked, motioning with the rifle Ike had loaned him. John nodded. "Yep. He was shooting at Jim-Bob and Elizabeth; I'd know those two anywhere, even in the dark woods."

Jason looked off into the woods. "Did they go that way?" he asked, pointing into the darkness. John nodded in acknowledgement. "Yeah."

The teenager nodded to John and John-Boy. "I'm going to go help them find their way home."

John patted his son's arm. "You do that, Jason, but stay down; I don't want the stranger to see you and start firing." Jason smiled. "Don't worry, Daddy, I'll be quiet."

Jason quickly stole off into the woods, keeping close to the shadows. John-Boy pressed himself up against a tree, training his rifle on the figure's location. "I've got a clear shot if he pops out again."

John nodded to his oldest child. "Okay, keep your sight trained there. I'll try to get in a little closer." John-Boy didn't move a muscle as his father started off towards the stranger's location. If the man so much as poked his head out to fire, John-Boy would put a hole in him. As much as he hated to shoot a human, he would do so if it meant preventing the death or injury of one of his siblings or his father.


Jim-Bob and Elizabeth ran off into the woods towards the light of their house's porch, but a rustling of leaves at their side caused them to stop and jump.

"Hold on! It's me, Jason," the familiar voice of their older brother caused both of the Walton children to relax. "Jason!" Elizabeth exclaimed, throwing her arms around her brother's neck. The two brothers nodded to one another; Jason didn't expect the same response to come out of Jim-Bob.

"Come on, let's get you back home."

Elizabeth pointed to Jim-Bob. "Jason, Jim-Bob was shot in the leg!" The oldest of the three looked to his younger brother. "What? Really?" he asked.

Jim-Bob shook his head. "Aw, she's making a big deal out of nothing. It just skimmed my leg. It should be healed in a week or so."

Jason smirked. "Too bad Mary Ellen wasn't with you. She could've patched it up, being a medic and all." He turned back to the house. "Well, let's go. Daddy and John-Boy are handling that stranger back there."

The two younger children exchanged looks. "But Jason, that's Mr. Winshaw!" Jim-Bob exclaimed.

Jason's surprise was clear on his face. "Wait—it is?" He rubbed his forehead. "Oh no…then that means…the stranger's still on the loose." He turned around now, suddenly feeling an urge of discomfort and uncertainty: If he didn't warn John and John-Boy, then Mr. Winshaw would be injured or killed. But if he went to warn them, then the stranger may hurt one of his siblings.

He sighed in regret. "Come on. I still need to get both of you back home. Then I'll go tell Daddy and John-Boy."


Ike's motorcycle—with Ben in the sidecar—pulled up outside the Walton house. Ike waited as the red-headed teenager climbed from his position, rubbing his sore back.

"Hope you get to feel better, Ben," Ike said, scratching the back of his head. Ben nodded in agreement. "Same here, Ike." He waved to his older friend, stepping towards the house. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ike. Maybe we'll have an update."

Ike nodded. "I'd like one sooner than that. I want to know if that lunatic's still running rampant on the mountain."

Ben chuckled in agreement. "You're right there…hopefully Daddy and Grandpa can catch him. I'll try and talk Daddy or Jason into letting me drive the truck or car up to the shop and telling you."

Ike smiled. "Good luck to that."

Ben returned the grin. "Thanks. I'll need it." He turned to start up the stairs as Ike drove off, only to see Jason, Jim-Bob, and Elizabeth enter the front yard.

"Jason!" Ben exclaimed, stepping from the porch, hands in his back pockets. "Where are the others?" he asked.

Jason shrugged. "Daddy and John-Boy are back there with Cameron Winshaw. I guess he thought Jim-Bob or Elizabeth was the stranger and shot at 'em. Daddy and John-Boy don't know that it's Mr. Winshaw yet; they think it's the stranger. I don't know where Grandpa, Mary Ellen, or Erin are at."

Elizabeth looked to Jim-Bob then back to Jason.

"Wait a second…Jim-Bob and I saw three people running here. We thought it was you, Erin, and Mary Ellen."

Jason and Ben exchanged glances, and then Jason kneeled down in front of Elizabeth. "Did you see where they went?" he asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. "Nope. That's when Jim-Bob and I started getting shot at." Jason sighed, standing up. "We need to get inside and see if Mama or Grandma have seen Mary Ellen or Erin."

Ben nodded. "Agreed."

The four Waltons walked onto the front porch, where Jason tried the doorknob: It was locked. He started to pound on it with his fist. "Mama? Grandma? It's me, Jason!"

After a few seconds, the door slowly opened and Olivia stood at the door. "Jason! Ben! Elizabeth! Jim-Bob! Where have you all been?" Jason shrugged towards the woods. "Back in the woods. John-Boy, Daddy, and Grandpa are still back out there. I don't know where the girls are at."

Olivia motioned into the house. "They're in here." Before she could respond any further, Jason and Ben leapt from the porch. "Okay, Mama! Thanks! We're going to help Daddy and John-Boy!"

But before Olivia could object, a voice sounded. A voice that was all too familiar…

"Well, if it isn't the Walton home itself. And Mrs. Walton, I presume?"

The stranger emerged from the shadows, juggling his knife around in his hand. Olivia and the children didn't make any movements. "What do you want?" Jason asked pleadingly.

The man chuckled. "I've already told you: your sisters." He looked up to Olivia, and then smirked wickedly. "But maybe your mother would do just as well."

Olivia didn't make any movements. "You're treading on a rough road," she sternly said. "My husband wouldn't let you get away with it."

The stranger shrugged. "By the time he shows up, I'll be done and gone." He stepped towards the house, only to be blocked by Jason and Ben. "Don't try it," Ben ordered, but the man cracked his neck. "Don't worry. It won't be trying."


John slowed down as he came in close to the stranger's location. More shots were fired from his position at John-Boy's, but no screams came. That was a good sign, at least.

John crept forward slowly, his gun held at the ready. The figure was only a few inches ahead, yet his face was concealed by shadows. Not like I'd know him, anyways, John thought, nibbling on his lip. He decided that now was as good a time as any.

He jumped up, his gun leveled. "Hold it! Don't move!" The figure lurched, uncovering the face of…Cameron Winshaw!

A look of surprise covered John's face. "Cam—?!" he started, only for a shot from the man's rifle to slam into his side, sending him flying to the ground. The pistol fell into a nearby clump of leaves and dirt.

"Daddy!" John-Boy cried out, firing his own weapon. The shot slammed into Cameron's arm, sending his own gun down to the side. John-Boy darted towards his father, his gun held to the side.

Cameron looked on in surprise at the two Waltons—one of which had been shot by him.

"What have I done?!" he muttered to himself. "Then I must've shot…" The thought of his bullet hitting the fleeing figure entered his mind. "…one of the other Walton kids."

John-Boy, at his father's side, held pressure on his father's wound. "I need some help! The house shouldn't be far from here!"

Cameron nodded, realizing that he has caused a lot of trouble—and risked a lot of lives. He turned to John-Boy. "Come on. Let's get him back to the house."


The stranger struck out with a fist, sending Ben down to the ground. This is the second time this guy's knocked me to the ground today! Ben thought, clambering back to his feet as a punch sent Jason back a few steps.

Ben dove at his foe, tackling him to the ground. Jason ran to his brother's aid, striking out with a fist, which pummeled the man's jaw. As he collapsed onto the ground, Jason went down to help Ben pin him down.

Jim-Bob ran from the house to his brothers' help. Olivia's cry for him to stay back was of no use; he wasn't going to stay out of this struggle. Coming down hard between his brothers, Jim-Bob helped keep the stranger down on the ground.

Suddenly, from out of the woods, came Cameron Winshaw, John-Boy, and John, who was holding his side.

"John!" Olivia cried out, running to her husband. Cameron leveled his rifle at the sight of the killer that the Walton boys had on the ground. "Let him go."

The three boys nodded, getting to their feet. John-Boy kept Ike's rifle at the ready in case the stranger tried anything.

The stranger moved to stand, climbing to his feet. He stared into Cameron's face, sneering. "So…it's you again."

Cameron nodded. "Yeah…it's me again." He turned to John. "Hey, John, I'm sorry for—" But John cut him off. "Hey, Cameron—don't worry about it." His old friend nodded, smiling. "Okay. Thanks, John."

The mill worker shook his head. "Not a problem, Cam."