Wesley Snipes and I were travelling through some hick town one evening, on our way to somewhere else, but he noticed that a car had been following us so we pulled into a gas station. Wesley said he was worried that the car behind us might have a firearm in it, so we wanted to see if it would go past us or stop where we were.
It turns out the car following us was an unmarked police car. I got out of the car, started filling it with gas to appear as if we were just acting normally, not just stopping because we knew we were being followed. The sherrif got out of his car and came up to talk to Wesley, who was still sitting in the back seat of our car. He ordered him out.
He told Wesley to get out of the car and lay on the ground with his hands behind him. Using the words "Boy" and "Son" often, the sherrif made it clear to Wesley (and everyone within earshot) that the town didn't want black people around, even if only passing through. I was considering apologizing to Wesley for bringing him through this town, because I didn't know they acted that way, but I decided it was better to stay silent as to not irritate the sherrif.
He told us both to get back in the car, Wesley in the back and me in the front passenger seat. He got in the driver's seat, and began driving us down some dark deserted road. Obviously we were concerned, so I was trying to think of what the sherrif's plans might be for us - and how I could get us out of it. The sherrif drove with one hand on the wheel, and one hand on his gun - which was aimed at Wesley in the back seat.
We ended up on Bauman Hill Rd, outside of Lancaster, when the sherrif finally stopped the car along side the road. In the back seat there was now a three-year-old boy, who also had a gun aimed at Wesley. The sherrif got out of the car and headed towards a house, after telling us that the boy would shoot either of us if we tried to escape. As soon as he was out of view, of course we hit the small child in the head, took his gun, and fled into the woods on the other side of the road.
We worked our way about 20 yards into the thick woods, hiding behind trees and heavy growth. At this point we split up, hoping that we'd be less noticable when the sherrif started looking for us. I could see the spotlight shining from where our car was parked, but the woods provided enough shelter for us not to be spotted. I continued crawling further into the woods, where I came across more people that had taken shelter from that same sherrif. They had created their own little community in a tiny cabin deep in the woods.
Once they saw me and took me inside, I realized that I was now trapped by this little cult. They had become so afraid of people, they would not allow anyone to leave once they had entered. JT Walsh was there, and he came up to me and told me that they were out of food, and that I probably wouldn't be able to eat anything for days. After he walked away, a few of the other cult members came up to me and showed me that there was plenty of food in some trash bags in the kitchen - but JT feared that it was all tainted, so he didn't want us to eat it.
