《This Is The Fall》


 Part One: Author鈥檚 Note & Trigger Warnings

    Author''s Note:


    The story you are about to read is based on the contents of three weathered, leather-bound journals that had long been forgotten, concealed on a dusty shelf amid the sprawling expanse of the library. All of the books, manuscripts and other relics that contained knowledge of The Time Before, were meticulously gathered after the cataclysm known as The Fall, and were brought here, to the city at the heart of The Snow Forest, to be preserved and studied.


    I am Lynn-Erin Faye, one of many scribes that call the halls of the library their home. I spend my days searching the dusty stacks of ancient tomes for interesting or otherwise inspiring accounts, so that I might copy their narratives. With luck, my writing these accounts might bring entertainment and joy to the hearts of our city''s patrons, and perhaps one day, beyond the confines of its borders. This, my dear readers, is one such story.


    Scant firsthand accounts of The Fall, and the years prior to that deadly moment in our world''s history, have ever come to light, leading us to speculate that the people living in The Time Before must have possessed some means of information preservation that eludes our understanding today. Be that as it may, these journals were brought to us nearly four centuries ago by a woman known only as "The Messenger". She conveyed that the woman who passed the journals to her, a certain enigmatic soul named Amber, had no heirs to pass the volumes to, and in light of that fact, chose to send them off into the world with a stranger¡ªThe messenger¡ªso that the tale of her greatest adventure would endure and not be left to rot in the damp basement of her home.


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    Doubtless, the original journals have been read and re-read countless times, their scarred covers and brittle, yellowed pages bear witness to that fact.


    The rawness of Amber''s own words has compelled me to include her original journal entries, a travelogue of sorts, at the end of this book. I believe it is of great importance for the reader to fully experience Amber''s unabridged writing and language. It is fast paced and to the point with no frills. I have spent a great amount of time with her spirit through the content of her journals, and although it is my hope that the way I have rewritten Amber''s tale, in basic story form, is exciting and compelling, I have no doubt that her own words will carry more weight than my own can.


    Trigger Warnings:


    This story may not be for everyone. It is a wild tale that touches on assault, catastrophic injury, violence, PTSD, panic attacks, raw language and situations of a mild sexual nature. For those sensitive to such topics, I advise caution; but through the untamed realms of peril, sorrow and loss, this adventure is also filled with camaraderie, triumph and love.


    And now, it is my fervent hope that you enjoy This Is The Fall.

 Prologue

    Eight Months Ago...


    The lens of the Channel 2 News camera bore into me and I suddenly forgot how to speak, my mind and heart racing as the newscaster, Becca Boyce, smiled encouragingly and tipped the puffy microphone in my direction.


    "Umm, can you please repeat the question?" I asked, feeling absolutely foolish as heat slowly crept up into my cheeks. I brushed a stray hair away from my eyes and fidgeted. Why did the camera feel like it was looking into my soul?


    God, this was a horrible idea, I thought to myself. My place was behind the camera...not in front of it. Capturing single moments in time, preserving that minuscule portion of life for generations...that was what I loved. But the thought of my own awkwardness preserved in the same fashion made me squirm. Hooray for social anxiety.


    "Of course," The pretty reporter said gently, "We aren''t live so we can try as many times as we need to. It''ll probably help if you focus on me and pretend the camera isn''t even there."


    I nodded nervously and took a deep breath in an attempt to shake off the nerves but it did little to calm them. My armpits itched as I broke out in a nervous sweat and I tried to focus on her rather than the camera.


    "We''re here at the Panther Creek Camp Ground trail head, a popular stop for through hikers on the Washington section of the Pacific Crest Trail. I''m speaking with Amber, a local, avid hiker, photographer and solo car camper. Now, Amber, in light of the attacks and disappearances happening in national parks and forests all across the country, do you still plan on getting out into the wilderness this summer?"


    Again, she tipped the microphone in my direction.


    Again, my mind went blank. I''d heard the question, processed the question, but I just couldn''t seem to form a response. As if on cue, a group of three ''through hikers'' passed beside us cheering and hamming it up for the news camera. Their wild gestures and fist pumping cut the self-imposed tension building in my chest and I let out a breath I hadn''t realized I had been holding to giggle at them with the reporter.


    When the group was several paces away, I squared my shoulders and with a determined breath, I spoke, "Well, yeah, I suppose so. There haven''t been any attacks reported here locally, and until then, I''m gonna keep playing in the forest. But I have started bringing extra things with me that I never used to."


    "What kind of other things?" Becca asked.


    "I have an extra can of bear spray and a PLB. Uh, that''s a personal locator beacon." I was starting to relax a little bit. Talking about the outdoors and safety is the one thing I''m almost as passionate about as I am photography. I held the large can of bear spray and PLB up for her to see.


    "That''s a very interesting gadget. How does it work?" She asked.


    I explained the particulars of my unit''s operation and a few of its features. Words began to come easier and I smile back at the reporter. "If I''m late coming back from a trip, my family or friends can check my location and if I end up in a sticky situation, I can call emergency services and this will bring them to within twenty feet of my physical location if I''m lost or injured and can''t make it out on my own."


    "That is an impressive piece of technology and could very well save a life. Thank you for sharing that with us." The reporter said as she turned her attention back to the cameraman. "You see, its important to be prepared and aware of your surroundings at all times when out in the back country. Know your limits, stay on the trail and always let someone know where you''re going and when you expect to return. This is Becca Boyce, back to you in the studio."


    She smiled for a solid five seconds then lowered the mic. "How was that, Colin?" Her entire attitude shifting from that of being on stage, to chatting with a friend.


    "We got it," The cameraman said flatly, nodding his head. "Let''s get some B-roll and we should be good to go."


    Becca turned back to me, "Would it be alright if we borrowed you for a bit longer? Maybe we could get a shot of you getting out of your car and walking down the trail? And how about a close-up of the bear spray and that beacon?"


    "For sure." I nodded to them both.


    All was done in a few short moments and Becca handed me her card. "There are several of us working on this story, as of now it¡¯s set to be the headliner on the seven o''clock news. Keep your eyes peeled and feel free to email if you think of anything else we might be able to add."


    "Sounds good! Thanks, Becca. It was great to meet you both." I said, shaking each of their hands in turn.


    "Stay safe out there." She said and then they turned to go.


    I hopped back into my old Jeep excited to tell my mom and brother that I was about to be on the news. "God, I hope I don''t look like an idiot," I said to myself while absently running a hand over my face before I cranked the motor to life.


    ************


    Back at home, hours later, my attention was violently pulled away from my photo editing by my mom''s excited shriek, "It''s on, it''s on! Get in here!"


    My younger brother and I sprinted down the stairs, through the hallway and into the living room, shoving each other and laughing the whole way.


    "Turn it up," Joey said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "I gotta see this."


    Mom grabbed the remote and cranked the volume up as the intense news introduction played.


    The nerves from earlier in the day came back as butterflies to dance in my stomach. "Here''s to hoping I didn''t make a complete fool of myself," I crossed my fingers and plopped down on our worn sofa.


    Amid the flashy, digital bulletins and scrolling ticker, two efficiently somber newscasters gazed into the camera. "Thank you for joining us on this Saturday edition of the seven o''clock news, I''m Ben Holmes." Ben glances to his right at a striking woman with dark hair.


    "And I''m Andrea Anderson." She states, "We begin, of course, with continuing coverage of the bizarre maulings and disappearances that have been happening in national parks and forests across the country."


    The picture cuts to an idyllic scene at Yellowstone National Park. The lodge, roads and surrounding attractions shown are chocked full of visitors wandering the park while marveling at its rugged beauty.


    The disembodied voice of Andrea Anderson floats from the television, mingling with the sounds of a busy national park during peak season. "Yellowstone, the world¡¯s very first national park, has been a popular summer tourist destination since the spring of 1872. Since 2008, the park has welcomed over three million visitors each year. But this season, Yellowstone stands empty."


    The lines were delivered with the perfect William Shatner pauses for dramatic effect. The cameras cut to a recent clip of the normally bustling park. It''s a ghost town.


    Ben picks up where Andrea left off. "For the first time since the devastating wildfires of 1988, the park has closed off all five of its entrances and is completely evacuating its guests."


    "Wait, what?" I squeaked, quickly glancing back and forth between my mom and brother.


    "Holy shit," Joey mumbled while mom waved a hand, shushing us both.


    "Shut it, I can''t hear what they''re saying." Mom said loudly. The newscasters continued to speak while my mind reeled. What a nightmare this was turning into.


    "Since March of this year, current estimates point to more than 200 people either found dead or missing in Yellowstone and Teton National Parks alone. And that number is growing every day." Ben finishes before the cameras cut to a short clip of the administrators of the two parks.


    Standing behind a small podium bristling with microphones, a gentleman in a starched ranger uniform spoke slowly and carefully to the gathered press before him, "It was an easy decision to close the parks, but not one that we took lightly. These killings and disappearances are highly disturbing and very real. At this time, we don''t know what has caused this tragedy, animals or humans, but this is a matter of public safety. We will be closing the parks indefinitely to allow for proper investigation of the scenes and surrounding areas, and we are urging citizens in the greater Jackson area to use extreme caution when out at night."


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    The cameras flash back to the reporters and Andrea speaks, "Disappearances and animal attacks are not uncommon in our country''s national parks. In fact, people go missing in those remote areas every year. From Yosemite, to Olympic, Denali to the Great Smokey Mountains, every park has had a missing persons case, but until recently, the numbers reported were quite low. One website states that there were only 29 open cold cases for missing individuals at our national parks from 1958 to 2021. This year, nearly every national park has reported at least ten missing persons with more than a dozen mutilated and half eaten bodies found in these remote areas across the country."


    Mom''s hand drifts to her chest. "My God, this is getting out of hand." She breathed, her voice just above a whisper.


    Interviews come and go as the news story rolls out increasingly staggering facts and numbers. A knot began to form in the pit of my stomach.


    Maybe I was being reckless, solo hiking and camping in the national forest?


    I turned my full attention back to the television when a woman''s face graced the screen. She was a scientist, a volcanologist to be specific, and had rocketed into the limelight after going public with a controversial theory that the killings and disappearances were somehow connected to a record number of small earthquakes that shook the Yellowstone caldera area in early spring. Her colleagues dismissed her theory as "bonkers" stating that there was no actual evidence behind her theory, and it was only a gut feeling that she had. But I believed her.


    "Ya know, a gut feeling should never be discounted." Mom said, poking her chin out while looking more than a little self-righteous. "Your head and your heart can pull you in every different direction, but your gut will never lead you astray." She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at the television, no doubt wishing all those stuffy science men would just leave that woman alone. "Pseudo-science, my ass. I think she''s right."


    The story continued on while Mom, Joey and I talked over the reporters.


    "My gut has never let me down, and the few times I didn''t listen to a gut feeling, I instantly regretted it." I said. Like that time I almost ditched the Jeep trying to avoid hitting a deer after my gut told me I should take a different route home. I shivered visibly and Mom laid a hand on my shoulder.


    "What about that time¡ª" Joey started, but Mom cut him off with a happy little squeal.


    "Look, look! There she is!" Mom sat forward and bounced in her seat on the edge of the couch.


    "You look like a rabbit in the headlights, Sis." Joey snickered, playfully punching me in the shoulder.


    "Shut it, dweeb." I glared at him then burst out laughing. I did look scared to death.


    Becca Boyce''s pretty face smiled out from the screen while I twitched and shifted nervously to one side of her. I groaned and buried my face in my hands with utter embarrassment. I could hear my own, slightly squeaky voice telling her and the entire metro area (if not the world) that I was still going to go play in the woods because no one had been killed or gone missing here.


    "Oh, I''m an idiot." I moaned and flopped to my side on the couch, curling into the fetal position.


    "You look so cute, sweetie," Mom said while playfully jostling my balled-up form. "Look."


    I peered at the television from between my fingers just in time to see myself clip the can of bear spray and PLB onto my belt and start walking down the trail, my own disembodied voice talking about the locator device.


    "Why didn''t anyone ever tell me that I''m so freaking pigeon toed?" I groaned. I was never going to be able to take a single step again without picturing myself waddling down that trail.


    Becca''s voice over was sweet and cheery, "You see, it''s important to be prepared and aware of your surroundings at all times when out in the back country. Know your limits, stay on the trail and always let someone know where you''re going and when you expect to return. This is Becca Boyce, back to you in the studio."


    The image on the screen flashed back to Andrea Anderson''s pretty face, "It is always best to be prepared, right Ben?" She said with a slight smile.


    "Exactly. My own mother always used to say, ''It''s better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it.''" Ben said, chuckling.


    Mom sat up tall and wagged her finger at the screen, "Your mom''s a wise woman, Ben. A wise woman."


    "Definitely words to live by, especially during times like these." Andrea said solemnly.


    The news casters continued to speak with other correspondents out in the field covering different areas of the country. Things sure did seem to be growing worse by the day. Several doomsday preppers graced the screen talking about food stores and water supplies, others were convinced that the deaths and disappearances were nothing more than a cover up; the Yellowstone super volcano was going to erupt.


    I rolled my eyes at most of the interviews and then the image of a man with a truly crazed look in his eye filled the screen. He gazed straight into the camera lens, straight at us, completely unblinking.


    "The people that get chewed up and taken to the hospital, they tell us that all those people died because of some novel bacteria. No modern medicine can stop it, right? But did you know that none of the family members were able to retrieve the bodies of their loved ones? Yeah, apparently every single body needed to be kept for study." The man snorted. "You know what that means? It means that those people never died. They had to have been taken to some top-secret facility for more study. I think they changed. It''s the only logical answer."


    "You''ve got to be kidding me." Mom groaned. ¡°I can''t believe they''re letting this quack speak. He''s going to start a panic."


    "That''s why I never watch the news, Mom. All they do is sensationalize everything just to get the people riled up. He''s obviously nuts," I said. "Just look at him."


    "Ugh, he''s creepy." Joey said, "But did you see the video of the angel?"


    "The what?" Mom and I said in unison, both whipping our attention from the television to Joey.


    "Yeah, it''s trending on Reddit. It''s all over social media." He looked at the two of us, incredulous.


    We both shrugged and motioned for him to continue. Mom muted the television while Joey pulled up a video. Mom and I had social media accounts but we never really used them. They were just a time suck and I enjoyed the outdoors too much to just sit and stare at my phone for hours on end.


    "Here, look. It happened somewhere in South America." Joey turned his phone our way and looked smug.


    A female form crashed through the glass doors of some sort of high security ''facility''. She was completely naked, cut, bruised and bloodied, but that wasn''t what made my eyes practically pop out of my head. She had wings. Actual feathered wings. She pulled herself to her feet and started to run when shots rang out. She stumbled slightly before unfurling her iridescent, black wings, taking to the sky and disappearing out of the frame.


    "What the Hell?" I glanced over at Mom who has a hand to her chest. "Play it again."


    Joey laughs, "I knew you guys would freak out."


    Mom hadn''t even taken a breath. We watched the video again and I was left completely speechless. It looked so real but there''s no way it could be. It has got to be fake, but try as I might, I can find no flaw in it. The entire video is stunningly, terrifyingly clear. I couldn''t do anything except sit and shake my head.


    "Oh, my God. She''s pregnant!" Mom''s sudden exclamation startled the life out of Joey and I, but when Joey played the video a third time, it was clear. The woman, or angel, was definitely pregnant. Very pregnant.


    "Seriously, what is going on? Earthquakes, wars, gas shortages, supply train interruptions, storms, climate change, fires, people getting murdered in national parks and forests, and now a pregnant Angel? Shoot, maybe those doomsday preppers aren''t so crazy after all?" I brought my fingertips to my forehead, "This can''t be happening."


    "You really need to do some research," Joey said through a crooked smile. "There really is some crazy stuff going on right now."


    "Alright, you''ve convinced me. I''ll crawl out from under my rock and get with the times." I said sarcastically to Joey and he beamed triumphantly.


    "See ya in a few days. You''re about to fall down a rabbit hole, Sis."


    The news story must have ended because when Mom turned the volume on the TV back up, they were talking about the ten-day forecast.


    "Well, I guess that''s it, then." I said slapping my knees and pushing up off the couch. "My thirty seconds of fame has ended. Thank God."


    "I''ll send you the link to that post on Reddit. There''s a huge group of people trying to figure out where the video came from. Lots of hackers. They''ll figure it out." Joey said, rubbing his hands together.


    "Well, I''m gonna go hide in my room and hope that nobody I know saw me on the news looking like an idiot." I laughed. "Do you need help with anything, Mom?"


    She seemed lost in thought, staring at nothing in particular.


    "Mom?" I said again, a little bit louder.


    She shook her head and looked up at me. "Umm, no sweetie, I''m okay."


    I nodded and started back up the stairs to my room.


    "I''m proud of you, Amber. I know how much being on camera unnerves you and you did a great job. You should be proud of yourself." She said earnestly.


    "Thanks, Ma." I sighed and tried to hide my smile. "Love you."


    "Love you more."


    I continued up the stairs to my room and sat down at my computer. I had been editing a portrait but just could not seem to get back into it. So I opened my web browser and started searching.


    Is this the end of days? I typed into the search bar. Article upon article from bible thumping websites and blogs popped up. Not what I was looking for.


    Real life angel in South America. That yielded some interesting articles. From what I could gather, the video in question had been taken from surveillance cameras by a hacker and released to the public and it was 100% authentic.


    I kept searching and found a blog dedicated to all things Yellowstone Disappearances and was immediately sucked into a whirlwind of conspiracy theories.


    "These people are as bad as the folks that think Elvis and JFK Junior are still alive." I mumbled to myself, clicking away from that website and searching for more information on disappearances farther away from Yellowstone and Grand Teton. I watched video after video on YouTube and before I knew it, it was after midnight. Yawning and rubbing my tired eyes, I stretched and changed into my pajamas.


    For the next two months, almost every spare moment I had was spent researching the disappearances and then, as suddenly as they had begun, they stopped. Across the nation, there were more than 300 confirmed dead and close to fifteen hundred missing or otherwise unaccounted for. The Pacific Northwest, oddly enough, counted the fewest number of casualties.


    The authorities stated that even though the bloodshed seemed to have stopped, there was no reason to lapse into complacency. They urged the public to stay vigilant and to always travel in groups of two or more. The buddy system from childhood making a comeback into our adult lives.


    By Christmas, most folks had stopped talking about the killings altogether and chose to focus on some other weird, extraterrestrial happenings.


    I welcomed the return of some normalcy back into our lives. Being that wound up about something so bizarre was absolutely exhausting.


    Sometimes, during quiet moments, I wonder what would have happened if I would have kept listening to the news and all those emergency preparedness crazies? How different my life would have been? If I would have even had much of a life at all? There is no way to change the past though, and even knowing about all the crazy things going on in the world, I still took off alone that day.


    That one decision completely altered my life.

 Chapter 1 - Meeting DJ

    The chill of a long and wet winter still clung to the shadows around the trees, but the unseasonably warm, early March sun tickled the side of my face. I turned so that I could welcome the morning glow head on with a grateful smile, glad that the weather seemed to be cooperating during my outing, for the moment at least. Bright white and cottony, the cumulus clouds floated in the otherwise brilliant blue sky. I had four days off of work and planned to make the most of them.


    I slung my day pack over my shoulder and readjusted the heavy, antique camera that hung around my neck before continuing down the walking trail in the park. To my left, a small river ran high and fast, nearly overflowing its banks and I wondered absently at how much more rain it would take to flood this entire area.


    The past winter had been a rough one. Rainfall records were broken, every month from October to February and in the higher elevations, the snowpack was the deepest anyone had seen since the mid 1900''s. The past week though, a peculiar warm front pushed in from the pacific bringing mild temperatures and a much-needed respite from the constant rain.


    The grass and leafless trees glittered with silvery water droplets and I sighed, relishing the moment.


    "On your right!" A voice called out from behind me.


    I quickly stepped to my left as a morning jogger flew past and I wrinkled my nose. Why on earth would anyone want to run for fun? Eww.


    The jogger cut a striking figure though, silhouetted against the sun, surrounded by glistening trees. Just him and the trail. I quickly gathered the old camera in my hands and brought the view finder to my eye. Shooting with 35mm film, I only had one chance to get the shot.


    I pressed the shutter and quickly advanced the film. Adjusting the focus, I snapped one more shot before the man was lost to sight around a bend in the path.


    I sighed. I wasn''t here to photograph people; I was here to practice nature photography. Portraiture was my niche and passion though, and I couldn''t allow myself to miss out on a golden opportunity for a beautiful photo. I continued down the path, pausing to capture an old arched bridge over the river and a few birds that were busy looking for things to eat but I was left feeling uninspired.


    What I needed was a different environment to shoot. I turned on my heel and began the short walk back to my Jeep. Once there, I popped the hatch and sat down. Feet swinging, I scrolled through a hiking app looking for something close by with a good view. Nothing was standing out to me, so I dropped my phone into my pack and sighed.


    Maybe I could take an overnight trip to one of my favorite camping spots? I hadn''t been out all winter and even though there hadn''t been a single reported national park disappearance or mauling since last October, I was still a little bit gun shy. As I mulled the idea over, I glanced back to the trail. The parks in town really weren''t that bad, I could just go to one further out. It was then that I saw the jogger coming back. I hopped down from the back of the Jeep and stretched up to pull the hatch closed just as he arrived. Our cars, parked side by side, were the only two vehicles in the small parking lot. He flashed me a friendly smile as he pulled his keys from a small waist pouch.


    "Beautiful morning, isn''t it?" He said, slightly out of breath.


    I was momentarily struck dumb. He had a great smile and a dimple on his left cheek. I shook myself and finally spoke, "Uh, yeah. It''s gorgeous. Nice break from the rain." I slammed the hatch down and returned his smile.


    "Enjoy the sunshine," He winked at me before turning to pull his car door open.


    I blushed and was suddenly grateful that he had his back turned to me. "Yeah, you too." I said, rather lamely and made my way to the driver side of the Jeep.


    After settling myself behind the steering wheel and plugging my phone in, I shifted into reverse and turned to back out of my parking stall, but the jogger was waving at me through my passenger window.


    "Shit," I started, before rolling down the passenger side window. "Everything okay?" I asked.


    "Sorry, I didn''t mean to scare you, my bad. Uh, do you have any jumper cables?" He asked.


    "Oh, yeah. I got some in the back, hold on." I said quickly as I shifted back into park and popped the hood of the Jeep.


    "Thank you so much." He said with a grateful sigh. "It''s been a little slow turning over for about a week and now I''ve got nothing. Guess it''s time for a new battery?"


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    I unplugged my phone and stuffed it into the pocket of my brown hoodie and hopped out of the SUV. I quickly made my way to the back hatch again and pulled out my road side safety kit.


    "Here ya go," I handed the jumper cables over awkwardly.


    Together we connected the batteries and he tried cranking the ignition to his car. It turned over slowly but wouldn''t fire up, so we let the Jeep run for a few minutes to charge his battery a little bit more.


    I had been hoping that the whole interaction would have been over and done with in less than a minute and as soon as I realized it was going to take longer, I could feel my anxiety starting to build. I didn''t have many friends and am the type of person that goes grocery shopping with ear buds in to avoid having any type of conversation with anyone.


    "So, uh, I like your rig." He said, trying to break the odd silence. "Don''t see too many girls driving around in cars that look this capable."


    "Eh, it''s my first car." I said with a small shrug. "I like hiking and camping, so I started adding gear to it while I was still in high school." I may have been bad at small talk, but the Jeep was my pride and joy. It was one of the few things I could talk to anyone about.


    My entire friend circle, small as it was, centered around driving into the forest and pretending that we just lived there. Circle the cars around the fire, eat, drink and laugh under the stars. Sleep, wake, hike, take pictures, rinse and repeat. I loved all of it.


    I told the jogger as much and he nodded, smiling. "I can see why so many people are getting into that overlanding style. It''s probably pretty cool knowing you can just head to the mountains and get lost for a while without having to set up a tent." He lightly kicked the toe of his running shoe into the sun faded fender of his older sedan. "Can''t do anything like that with this bucket of bolts."


    I laughed lightly and returned his smile, "Oh, I bet you could get down more than half the roads I do. You''d be surprised."


    He looked doubtful.


    "So, what''s jogging like?" I asked.


    He laughed, "Not nearly as much fun as those crazy fitness people will tell you it is." He glanced down at his shuffling feet before continuing, "I had to run almost every day in the military so it just turned into a habit. Helps me think."


    I couldn''t help but notice the hint of something sad in his voice. "Sounds like how hiking is for me."


    "Yeah, the repetitive movement and steady breathing works wonders." We lapsed into another uncomfortable silence.


    I mustered up some courage and asked, "Do you ever go trail running? Like on a hiking trail?"


    "I have a time or two. I really liked the Hidden Falls trail when I went, but I stuck to town after all that creepy stuff last summer."


    "Man, that was wild, wasn''t it?"


    He nodded in response.


    "Speaking of Hidden Falls, have you ever stopped at the camp store on the way up there? The one with the deli? They have the best huckleberry milkshakes."


    "Ya know, I never have. I''ll have to make a plan to do that one of these days." He said.


    "Some of my favorite camp spots are up there on that mountain. Every time I get a chance, I stop there in the summer. I told the folks that work there that if the world ended, I would head straight for the store just so I could have one last milkshake before I died." I laughed and then realized he was looking at me strangely.


    I had started rambling like I always did when talking about the outdoors. I cringed inwardly and tried not to wither in embarrassment.


    He clapped his hands suddenly and said, "Well, let''s see if this turd will start now."


    He cranked the ignition and his car roared to life. "Nice!" He cheered, and hopped out of the car to help me disconnect the cables and tuck them back into their case. I was trying not to let my awkward show when I suddenly had an attack of conscience.


    Should I tell him that I took his picture on the trail? It would be the honest thing to do. He was just another human before, but after our short conversation, he felt more like a person who obviously had feelings and was maybe going through some things. Having a photo of himself doing something he enjoys might make him feel better.


    Before I could stop myself, I''d said it. "So, I have a confession."


    "Oh?" He said raising his brows.


    "I''m a hobby photographer," I said gesturing to my pack and camera bag in the back of the Jeep. "I''m playing with an old 35mm camera and I took a couple of shots of you when you passed me on the trail earlier."


    He took a step back and crossed his arms, "Really?" His head canted to one side, he just looked at me.


    "Yeah," I grimaced. "I probably should have asked but you were way past me already and it was a great shot. I didn''t wanna miss it. After I develop the pictures, I can send you a copy if you want one. I mean, if they even turn out."


    "You mean like actual film? Not digital?" He sounded impressed and leaned forward a bit.


    I had to fight a bit of blush coming to my cheeks. "Mm-hm. I''m going to shoot the whole roll today so I should have a print in a couple of days, I think."


    "That''s really cool. I''d love a print. Hang on," He said excitedly and I breathed a sigh of relief.


    Dipping into his car he pulled out his phone.


    "What''s your number?"


    I recited the 10 digits. He dialed the number and hit send. It rang through to my phone and he hung up. "There ya go. Shoot me a text when you get it done."


    Did I just give my number to a random guy? Yup. That happened.


    "O-Okay," I stammered lightly. I was way out of my wheelhouse with this whole situation and I started to sweat even with the chill in the air. "So, what''s your name?" I asked, phone in hand, waiting to add him to my contacts.


    "I''m DJ, what''s yours?"


    "Amber," I said, suddenly feeling much more shy than usual.


    "Amber-what?"


    "Just Amber." I laughed a little and tucked a stray hair behind my ear, then immediately chided myself. You''re not flirting, Amber. You don''t know how to flirt. Rein it in.


    "Alright then, ''Just Amber''." He spelled my name out loud with a lopsided smile and hit save.


    I saved his number too, curious about what the initials stood for but too nervous to actually ask. I figured that if we did ever talk again, I would ask him then.


    "So, where are you off to for the rest of the day?" DJ asked.


    "Ya know, talking about the camp store made me want a milkshake. I think I''m gonna head up that way. And if they aren''t open for the season yet, I''ll just use the time up there to finish shooting this roll of film." I turned to close the hatch of the Jeep. "What about you?"


    "I''ve got work, but it''s just bartending, so I get to talk to a lot of middle-aged couples during happy hour." We both laughed and he continued, "Some of those ladies about my mom''s age actually scare me though. I flip one bottle and they turn completely feral."


    I guffawed then howled with laughter. I''d seen the middle aged, single women going after the younger bartenders a time or two and it always made me giggle.


    "Well, on that note," I extended my hand, "It was very nice to meet you, DJ, the jogging bartender.


    "Nice to meet you as well, Just Amber." He took my hand in his then raised an eyebrow. "Good grip."


    "Thank you?" I said, tilting my head to the side, throwing him a sarcastically quizzical look.


    We both laughed again before parting ways.


    On my way home, I mulled over our short conversation and then pushed it out of my mind. I had a trip to the mountains to pack for.

 Chapter 2 - Stranded

    When I arrived home to pack up the car, I caught a little flak from my mom.


    "I just don''t like the idea of you going all the way out there by yourself, Sweetie. Haven''t you been paying attention to the news?" She was only halfheartedly pleading with me. Not only did I help pay the rent and bills, but I''d also had my twenty second birthday back in October last year.


    As an actual adult, I''m allowed to have my own life. Just because I still lived at home with my mom and brother didn''t mean that I couldn''t be my own person. We all worked together to make ends meet because it''s impossible for a single person to support themselves these days.


    Inflation is through the roof, rent is outrageous and even with Mom, Joey and myself all working full time jobs, it''s hard to get ahead. Even in a house as roomy as ours is, sometimes we just want a weekend away...alone.


    I have been car camping alone and with friends since I got my old Jeep back in high school. I told my mom as much while I was loading my bedding and cooler in through the back hatch, and she still insisted I stay.


    "But all those stories from last summer...it just makes me nervous," she said trailing off.


    "You know those were all the way out near Yellowstone and the Teton''s, Mom. No one has even been attacked by a bear or cougar around here in decades and the creepy stuff out by Yellowstone completely stopped last fall. I''ll be fine. I have my PLB and I''m gonna stay where I have reception anyway." I pointed to the cell signal booster on the roof rack of the Jeep.


    "That could be in the middle of nowhere with that booster and you know it." She countered with a mock scowl that quickly morphed into a crooked smile. "Well, you have to keep in touch, send me the GPS coordinates when you get set up for the night¡ª,


    "And call as soon as you wake up." We said at the same time, me in a slightly mocking tone. Her instructions were always the same. Moms are gonna worry, it''s just what they do, right?


    I gave her a tight hug and kissed her round cheek. "Love you, Ma."


    "I love you too, Sweetie." She patted my shoulder and smiled just as my brother, Joey, pulled up in his cherry-bombed Honda. We both rolled our eyes when he revved the engine and it backfired.


    He cut the motor bringing blessed quiet back to the neighborhood and sprung up out of the car. "Where you off to this time, Sis?" He called out across the lawn. Still wearing his grocery store uniform, he somehow looked scrawnier than he did in his regular get up of slightly oversized jeans and tee-shirts. He still didn''t look like he was old enough to even be driving, let alone be a high school graduate, but there he was in all his nineteen-year-old glory, lopsided grin and all.


    "Into the national forest," I said.


    "Well, duh. You always go to the forest. Which part?" He acted like he was going to pull my hair, then stepped on my toe instead and laughed heartily.


    I socked him on the shoulder and called him a turd. "Little brothers are so overrated," I said, looking at Mom while I rolled my eyes and smiled. Then to my brother, I said, "You need to get yourself a real car and come with me one of these days."


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    "You can keep your ''Heep''. Club Honda for life!" He said, waving his arms and trying to look tough.


    Glaring at him, I said, "It''s not a heap, it''s a Jeep and it''s way more fun than your bucket of bolts will ever be."


    "Hashtag Overlander is so three years ago,"


    I cranked back my fist to sock him again and he bounded out of my reach, laughing.


    "Alright you two, chill," Mom cut in wagging her finger at us both, "Or I''m gonna tear your arm off and hit him over the head with it."


    We both chuckled at the thought of our tiny mom doing anything of the sort. I slammed the back hatch of the Jeep closed and turned to face Mom and Joey.


    "I''ll probably head up past the reservoirs and toward the mountain, but I may head down The Gorge and then go north from there. I''m not sure yet but I''ll keep you guys posted. I promise. I''ll even turn on location sharing."


    They seemed satisfied with that last bit and I hugged each of them in turn. "Love you guys. See you day after tomorrow."


    I drove away from town excited for some me time. Even with a chill in the air, I rolled down the window and let the cool air whip my hair around while I sang along with the radio, joy and the thrill of adventure harmonizing in my veins.


    There was hardly any traffic on the roads that far out into the hills, so the driving was easy and incredibly scenic.


    I crossed over an ancient, single lane suspension bridge that spanned the narrow portion of a lake while holding my breath. I refused to let my childhood superstitions die, but more than that, that bridge wasn''t paved, the wooden slats that were the actual driving surface bumped and creaked under the Jeep''s weight. Once we were back on solid ground, I let my breath out in a whoosh and laughed to myself.


    Not much further down the road sat the old log cabin camp store I had told DJ about earlier that morning. It had been there, in the middle of nowhere, since some time in the 1940''s. Run by the same family for its entire existence it was a staple and a must stop destination for anyone traveling this road through the forest.


    Unfortunately, as I pulled up to the front doors, the tattered ''Closed'' sign hung in the window. If memory served me correctly, they were only open Friday through Sunday during the off season, not opening for regular hours until April or May. I wouldn''t be getting the milkshake I had been dreaming about today, but when I made my way back down the mountain on Saturday, I could stop again.


    My phone chimed and I pulled it out of my bag expecting a text from my mom or brother. I almost dropped the phone when I saw that it was from DJ.


    "No way," I said aloud. I tapped the notification and read.


    Hey, wyd?


    "What you doing?" I squealed and bounced a bit in my seat remembering the wink he shot at me and the way his dark hair curled out from under his ball cap. My fingers raced to type out a response.


    Sitting in front of that camp store being sad that they aren''t open today.  Wyd?


    He immediately began typing a reply.


    Trying to convince my coworker that a pretty photographer in a Jeep saved my ass this morning and I actually had the good sense to get her number.


    I stared at my phone dumbfounded. Pretty? Really? I could feel my face heating while I grinned from ear to ear.


    I do drive a Jeep and like to take pictures. Is your coworker convinced?


    He was quick to respond again,


    He says pics or it didn''t happen. lol


    Great, I thought. My hair was a wind-blown mess and I didn''t  have a stitch of makeup on. But I hopped out of the Jeep for a picture anyway. I held my phone out in front of me making sure to get the SUV and the old store in the frame and tapped the shutter. The chilly breeze tossed my hair across half of my face, but my eyes were still visible. It was the best I was going to be able to get.


    I hit send and climbed back into the Jeep. It wasn''t long before another text came through.


    #PrettyJeepGirl confirmed. When r u heading back to town? You should come have a drink. It''s on me.


    I had the sudden urge to tear out of that parking lot and head straight back to town but I had come all the way up here for nature photos. Plus, I needed to shoot the whole roll before I could get him his picture, so I responded, I might head back tomorrow evening but probably first thing Saturday morning. Will you be working then?


    He wrote back, I''m on shift 4-midnight Saturday and Sunday. Come see me.


    I was still internally squeeing as I typed, I''ll text you when I leave the house. Oh, and I''ll bring your picture.


    DJ responded with a wink and thumbs up emoji. I was on cloud nine. Still grinning like a fool, I tossed my phone in my bag, put the Jeep in gear and guided it back out onto the road and continued deeper into the forest.


    The road dipped and curved, winding its way through the tunnel of vegetation while I kept my eyes peeled for the sneaky turn onto the tiny dirt road that led to one of my favorite dispersed camping areas when the Jeep just shut down.  There was no stuttering from the motor, no flashing idiot lights on the dash, nothing.


    It just went dead.

 Chapter 3 - What Do I Do?

    One moment I had been cruising down the secluded forestry road, stereo cranked up, smiling...dreaming of drinks with a handsome stranger, and the next, everything went silent. In all the years that I''d had it, the Jeep had never died on me before. I coasted to a stop, put it back in park and tried to crank the motor over.


    Nothing.  The starter didn''t even click.


    I looked around, checking my mirrors.  The road was narrow and had no actual shoulder so I pushed the hazard light button and not even those would come on.


    "What in the actual...?" I cursed.  Absolutely befuddled, I pulled my cell phone out of my bag praying that I had a signal...The booster could only do so much and if there was a hill or in this case, an entire mountain range in the way of a cell tower, I was gonna be completely out of luck. The screen of my phone was black. I tapped the screen and lock button.


    Nothing.


    How the heck could the battery have died already? There''s no way. I''d had it plugged in for most of the drive. What the heck is going on? My mind began to race.  This was bad...very bad.


    "Well, shit," I mumbled to myself as I elbowed the door open and hopped out listening hard for the sound of an approaching car. I tucked my short, dark hair behind my ears and looked around. I was still on a paved road but I was also pretty far away from the more well-traveled areas. All I could hear was the chilly spring breeze through the conifers and the river running just beside the road.


    "Shit!" I called out to the forest, my echoing voice bounced around the trees. I took a deep breath and whispered to myself, "Okay, don''t panic, Amber. Think."


    With fingers laced behind my head, I looked in the direction I had come from, then back to where I had been heading. A curving tunnel of trees bordered the pavement of the road, the broken, yellow line down the middle disappearing over a small hill. I was very alone. A deep sense of unease took root in the pit of my stomach.


    Should I start walking? Should I stay put and wave the next car down? Should I try to hitch a ride back down to the old camp store I passed about a half hour ago? What the heck did people do when they broke down before cell phones?


    I was completely stranded almost 100 miles from home on a deserted road with no idea what to do.


    After a long talk with myself, I decided to stay put. The sunny breaks in the clouds had closed up and it started to drizzle even after the morning had been so beautiful. The weather always changed so fast in the mountains, especially in spring. At least it wasn''t snowing though. The last thing I needed to do was head out into the weather and catch my death.The road was clear but there were several large patches of icy snow still clinging to the side of the road in places. Being cold was bad enough, but being wet and cold? I shuttered. Hard no.


    I am a hopeless over planner deep down though. I always seem to pack enough food to feed three people for the weekend rather than just myself.


    My ice chest and food tote were full of drinks, snacks and backpacker meals. I had my pillow, sleeping bag, an extra blanket, jet-boil and a cooking pot. When car camping without proper refrigeration, I only kept freeze dried backpacker meals, granola bars and other snacks. Water and shelf stable juice bottles filled the cooler along with a few pieces of whole fruit and a few bags of candy. The Jeep was the safest place to be and would be more than comfortable. I would just be doing my car camping while broke down on the side of the road.


    Waiting would be easy.Someone was bound to pass by before too long, or before nightfall at the very latest. Forest service personnel or construction maybe?


    I popped the hatch of the Jeep and opened the awning, giving myself a little more space while I waited. Sitting in my camp chair with my Jet-Boil rumbling away, I almost felt comfortable, but then I remembered that my car wasn''t working at all, and the nerves inched their way back up.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Somebody, anybody should have passed by during the hours that I waited, but no one did. When dusk approached, I told myself that I would head out walking back to the camp store at first light and try to get some sleep.


    I hardly slept a wink. Every rustle of wind, every creaking tree, every tiny sound in the night had me poking my head out of my blankets to peer out the windows of the Jeep. I couldn''t risk missing a potential car passing, but it was always just the wind.


    I''m not sure what time it actually was, but it felt like it was close to midnight when the thick bank of clouds broke, and the night sky seemed to light up and absolutely glow. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. Through the breaks in the trees and clouds, the northern lights danced across the sky in yellows, greens, pinks and purples. Shooting stars, several every minute, flashed bright in the unpolluted darkness, some even appeared to trail fire as they streaked through the sky. Even through my anxiety I couldn''t help but marvel at the sight, wondering what on earth would cause the northern lights to be visible this far to the south?


    I was sure that Google would have known but my phone was still not working, so all I could do was wonder. After staring at the sky for hours, I finally drifted off fairly close to dawn.


    My sleep was violently interrupted by a deep rumble followed by a sudden, vicious shaking.


    "What the heck?" I popped my head out of my blankets and looked out the window. Through the shadowed, blue light of dawn I could see the road actually rolling while the Jeep bounced and heaved on its shocks.


    "An earthquake? You''ve got to be kidding me!" I yelled.


    I watched in terror as the enormous trees trembled with the motion of the quake and my heart raced. The rolling asphalt buckled in several places then began to crack. Trees swayed then toppled across the road while dry fir needles and branches fell all over my car. A large branch bounced off the windshield, sending a spiderweb of cracks across it and I couldn''t watch anymore.


    I closed my eyes and hid in my sleeping bag like a terrified child. The quake seemed to last forever. My heart was thundering in my ears nearly drowning out the loud clatter of the debris hitting the roof of the Jeep.


    "Shit, shit, shit!" I squeaked, fighting panic and threatening tears while my thoughts raced. "God, please don''t let a tree fall on me."


    In the midst of the chaos, all I could think was that I wasn''t ready to die. "I don''t want to die.God, please, please, please."I whispered into the dark interior of my sleeping bag.


    The shaking ended as suddenly as it had begun and the forest grew silent.


    I lay there for a moment just breathing, trying not to cry, waiting for an aftershock. When none came, I threw the car door open and frantically began packing my bag.


    My heart still pounded in my ears as I quickly rolled up my sleeping bag with my pillow still inside. I strapped it to the bottom of my pack then stuffed the bag with as much food and drinks as it would hold. With all that I could carry slung across my shoulders, I closed the hatch of the old Jeep and took a deep breath. It was at least 8 miles back to the camp store but that was the best hope I had of finding someone to help. With all the trees down across the road, there was no way any vehicles were going to be able to make it up here let alone a tow truck. I would have to leave the Jeep behind.


    I hadn''t taken more than half a dozen steps from the car when I heard the faint echo of a human voice off the trees. My heart soared.


    Oh, my God, I''m saved!


    I listened intently for a moment suddenly realizing that the voice was male and sounded angry. It would be just my luck to run into a complete psychopath alone on a deserted road in the middle of nowhere...without a weapon of any sort. My heart dropped and an ice-cold sliver of fear settled into the place that had just been warmed by hope. I had to do something. I couldn''t just stand there in the middle of the road waiting for my very likely demise at the hands of a possible psychopath.


    Whispering expletives under my breath, I scurried back to the Jeep and threw my pack inside. I locked the doors and darted off the road and into the bushes. If he found me and I had to try and escape from him, the pack would just slow me down. It was too darn heavy.


    As the sounds of the voice got louder, closer, I began running through every worst case scenario possible. The guy is crazy, he tries to break into my car. The guy is crazy, he finds me hiding in the bushes and murders me. Or he finds me in the bushes, tortures and violates me, then murders me.


    My eyes darted around my immediate area searching for an equalizer of some sort. A stick or a rock maybe? The man''s head bobbed into view over a small hill in the road. He had to be tall and he was walking so fast he was practically jogging. At that distance I couldn''t make out any of his features, but he was waving his arms around in wild gestures while cursing every living thing on the planet.


    Definitely crazy.


    With my mind made up about this man''s sanity, I sunk further back into the bushes and crouched, praying that he wouldn''t stop at my car. He did though, growing quiet as he approached. I let out a quiet groan.


    He looked at the Jeep and then spun in circles, eyes canvassing the surrounding area. I could tell that he did not notice me in the bushes, and almost breathed a sigh of relief until he cupped his hands around his eyes and peered through the windows of the Jeep. He checked each one finally stopping at the driver side rear window. He had to have seen my pack.


    Well, that was stupid, Amber. I should have just hidden it in the ditch somewhere close by.Damn it! I had panicked, and in my rush to hide, had made a very big mistake.


    "Hello?" He called out, looking around again. "Is anyone still out here?"


    I held my breath and stayed stock still. When no answer came he began trying the door handles. Finding them locked, he scanned the ground and picked up a softball sized rock, testing its weight.


    What? A smash-and-grab? Oh, no you don''t, bro.


    Forgetting my fear and thinking only of my poor Jeep, I popped out of the bushes with a bent twig in my hand brandished like a sword and yelled, "Don''t break my window!"

 Chapter 4 - The Fall of Our Civilization

    The man screeched and nearly jumped out of his skin at my sudden appearance and dropped the rock.


    "Please?" I added, letting the crooked twig fall from my hand. My arms shot up, palms facing forward.


    He mirrored my position for a moment before dropping a hand to his chest.


    "You scared the absolute Hell out of me, girl." He laughed nervously before continuing, head canted to one side. "Why are you in the bushes?"


    I thought about moving toward him but hesitated. I had to be careful. I didn''t know what was going on or why he was walking down a deserted road in the mountains but I was generally a terrible liar. Honesty would probably be the best choice given the situation.


    "I-uh, I panicked. My car just died and I''ve been stuck here since yesterday."


    He raised his brows, "Yours is dead too, ''eh? It''s really happened then." His voice trailed off and his hands went to his hips, while a very concerned look spread across his face.


    "What do you mean? What''s happened?" I asked as I awkwardly lowered my hands. Maybe he wasn''t as crazy as I had first imagined, only frustrated, confused and scared, just as I was.


    "S.H.T.F." He said, like I should know what that meant.


    The look of confusion on my face must have cued him in to my lack of understanding and he elaborated with an exasperated sigh. "Shit Hit the Fan, girl. It''s the end of the world as we know it. The fall of our civilization."


    "Wait, what?" I asked, my voice sounding more shrill and panicky than I intended. "How do you know that?"


    "Climb up out of the ditch and I''ll tell you." He said, motioning me towards him.


    I shot him a skeptical look and considered. He was tall, well over six feet, and he had an athletic build, but he was easily twice my age with salt and pepper hair, graying beard stubble, and a bit of a belly. He wore sensible pants, sturdy shoes and a plain, puffy vest over a tucked in shirt. This man''s entire look smacked of ''Outdoorsy Dad''.


    "Look, I''m not going to hurt you. I have a wife and kids to get home to. I''ve been walking since before dawn and I''m thirsty, not to mention that earthquake. My nerves are pretty well shot. You got some water in that cooler you''d be willing to share?" He pointed to the window of my Jeep.


    So he was after the ice chest and not my pack? Maybe he really wasn''t crazy. He certainly seemed normal now that he was talking to me rather than himself. Plus he had confirmed my ''Dad'' suspicions without my asking. Deciding to take a chance, I scrambled out of the bushes and pulled the car keys out of my pocket. "Ok, but no sudden movements."


    He raised his hands and took several steps away from the car.


    "I''m Amber, by the way. And I do have some water," I sighed, a little of the tension leaving my body then mumbled to myself, "I wish I woulda packed some frikkin'' whisky though."


    As I unlocked the passenger door he chuckled and introduced himself. "Ya got that right. I''m Dan."


    Still eyeing him cautiously, making sure he stayed on the opposite side of the car, I reached in and jerked open the cooler. Several bottles of water, juice and a bag of candy I couldn''t fit in my pack stared back at me. Pulling a water and juice out, I tossed them over the hood of the Jeep. He caught each one and nodded in thanks. I waited while he took a drink before asking again about how he knew it was the end of days.


    "Well, have you not been paying attention to the news the last couple of years?" He asked, voice thick with incredulity.


    I shook my head. I tried to ignore current events at all costs and with the exception of last summer''s news research obsession, I hadn''t watched the news in about two and a half years and I had completely dropped off social media. Not being so plugged in kept my stress levels low and the worst of my anxiety at bay. Not that I explained that to him, though.


    Dan rolled his eyes but continued. "Things have been going from bad to worse for a long time and it''s finally happened. The economy is in the toilet, the country, no, the world is in shambles. It was just a matter of time before something, natural or man made, happened to bring about a reset."


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I shrugged and shook my head, "So, what does that have to do with both of our cars breaking down on the same road?"


    "That, girl, is caused by an electromagnetic pulse. It could be some crazy country detonated a nuke in the atmosphere but I''d bet my eye teeth that it was a solar flare or coronal mass ejection. Judging by the northern lights and all the shooting stars last night, there is a ton of solar radiation in the atmosphere. A blast like that from the sun can take out every electronic component on the side of the planet that was facing it. Shoot, it might even wrap around most of the planet if it was large enough."


    "So, you''re telling me that we have basically been pushed back into the pioneer days?" I asked.


    "Pre-pioneer days. Almost everything has vulnerable electronics in it these days and even the things that could possibly have withstood a pulse won''t work because the entire power grid is probably shot. No trains, no telegraphs, no power, no running water, nothing. Think pilgrims, girl. We might as well be back in the dark ages."


    "Damn," I whispered, "What about the earthquake though?"


    "That, I can''t say...except that maybe Mother Earth is pissed that we''ve been neglecting her these last couple hundred years?" He shrugged, "Coincidence, maybe? I dunno, but there have been some weird sightings in the news lately...from all over the world. Unexplainable things,"


    I knew what he was referring to. The missing hikers from the national parks, the people found with injuries that wouldn''t heal, possible animal attacks, even sightings of the ''Angel'' escaping from a maximum-security research center in South America.


    A muted chill tickled up my spine and I shuttered inwardly. That volcanologist had killed her career with the controversial theory that the killings and disappearances were linked to the cluster of earthquakes that happened around Yellowstone. And we had just been through an earthquake here. My mind quickly connected the dots. The entire Cascade Mountain range was volcanic and I was practically a stone''s throw away from the most active volcano in the range. My mind reeled at the thought.


    Dan trailed off and took another long drink of water before he continued. "I see your bag is packed. Were you planning on hiking out?"


    Perceptive, wasn''t he? "Well, I was going to head to the camp store down the road to try and make a phone call."


    Dan grunted in response.


    "You heading there too?" I asked.


    "That was the plan," He nodded and continued, "Ya know, land lines probably aren''t working either."


    "No regular phones either?" My heart sank. How was I going to get a hold of my family and let them know I was alright?


    "Nope. I mean, it''s possible that they could work but those old school copper phone lines are being decommissioned. Pretty much every phone system is digital now, so it only makes sense."


    I nodded flatly grappling with all of the implications of his words.


    "I spent a lot of time watching videos on what an EMP would do to our electronics after all that crap with North Korea a few years ago. Opinions were split. Some people swore that everything electronic would be toast and others said cars and phones would most likely keep working." He shrugged. "Judging by the fact that both our rigs are dead in the water, so to speak, I think we know now." He took a deep breath and looked at the sky. "Your cell is dead too, right?"


    "Yep." I sighed and looked up at the sky as well.


    The clouds were moving fast and growing thick around the mountain tops.


    "Ya know, I think the camp store has mountain bike rentals during the summer." Dan spoke mostly to the sky then turned back to me, "I''m not sure where they store them in the off season, but a bike is probably going to be the best way to get around from here on out. I''m going to stock up on what I can and get back to my family. The wife is probably worried sick."


    I nodded. "I live with my mom. She has got to be beside herself. My little brother too."


    He pegged me with a "kids these days" look and shook his head.


    "Rude." I scowled. "I''m the oldest and I''m helping my single mother make ends meet. Not that I should have to justify my living situation to a complete stranger. Plus, I''m only twenty-two. Things are tough these days."


    I dipped back inside the car and opened my pack. I sent a bag of jerky and an apple flying toward Dan''s head which he caught.


    "You''re welcome." I snapped before he had a chance to thank me.


    He droned out a long suffering "Thank you" before turning back towards the road. "Do you want to walk together? There''s safety in numbers and some company could be a good thing."


    I wasn''t too keen on staying put alone, but walking with this stranger wasn''t a great option either. He seemed harmless enough since we had been speaking, but something in my gut told me that I should wait a bit. Mom always told me to trust my gut. Your mind and your heart can absolutely lead you astray, but your gut will never do you wrong. Trust it. I had rationalized away gut feelings in the past and I had always wished that I had just listened.


    Also, what if Dan was lying? Was I really going to bite into his story and swallow it hook, line and sinker? I was young, true, but definitely not stupid. I really needed a second opinion but I had no way of getting one, so I had to go with what my gut said.


    "I''m going to wait a bit. It looks like it''s going to rain and I don''t have any rain gear."


    I tugged at the shoulder of my hoodie and sighed. The ever-present cloud cover did seem to be hanging rather low at the moment so my decision came across more like solid reasoning instead of a hastily thought up excuse.


    "Fair enough," Dan nodded, but I could see concern etched into the lines of his face.


    The wind kicked up just then bringing a light mist with it and I shivered. "Yeah, definitely going to stay put until the weather blows over."


    "Alright then," Dan sighed. "I''m not too thrilled with the idea of leaving you alone out here, you know. Just doesn''t sit right. How about I send up a flare when I make it to the store assuming it still has supplies? Shouldn''t take me more than four hours if I huff it." He tucked the water and juice bottles into the pockets of his vest.


    "I''ll keep watch." I said wondering if I would even be able to see a flare through the trees and misty rain.


    Dan raised a hand as he walked away. "Thanks again for the snack and drinks," he said around a mouthful of jerky, shaking the bag. "I hope you and your family have some food stored up. It''s gonna get really ugly in the coming months if you don''t. There are only nine meals between peace and anarchy."


    "Well, that''s freaking chilling, bro." I called out to him.


    "Just dropping truth bombs." He mimicked a mic-drop and resumed his overly fast walking pace down the road and around some fallen trees.


    Another gust of wind blew through the area causing the bushes at the road''s edge to sway. A shadow seemed to dip and move through them at the same moment and the scent of sulfur and earthy decay briefly brushed my nose. I cringed, the forest around me suddenly looking much more sinister than it had just a few short moments ago. A knot formed in my stomach while an icy chill tickled down my spine.


    "Dan!" I yelled. "I have a bad feeling. Maybe you should wait too?"


    "It''s just the winds of change, girl!" He called in response turning to face me while walking backwards. "Keep an eye out for the flare!"


    I reluctantly raised my hand and he turned back in the direction he was going. I watched him until he disappeared from view around a curve in the road then hastily got back inside the Jeep. Something felt terribly off.


    The rain began falling in earnest streaking the windows of the Jeep and distorting the dark trees around me. Hours passed in an indistinguishable blur and as the rain darkened sky began to blacken with the coming of night, I unpacked my bag and settled in. There was no way I would be walking out of the forest before dark. The rain showed no signs of letting up either, not to mention the queasy, nervous feeling I had in my gut. I couldn''t see anything in the forest around me but it felt like something was out there. Lurking in the shadows. Waiting. A deep and primal sense of unease gnawed at the pit of my stomach, and I shivered as I lay down to try and get some rest.

 Chapter 5 - To Fight and Survive

    Dan


    The chilly forest drizzle slowly seeped through Dan''s vest as he trudged along the narrow road toward the camp store. The earthquake had stirred up chaos, dumping branches and whole trees across his path like some sort of twisted obstacle course. Each natural barricade he scrambled over or around was a not-so-subtle reminder of the list he''d dreamed up after his time in the service.


    Three Rules to Survive the Apocalypse:


    #1. Stay sharp as a goddamned tack. Complacency will get you killed.


    #2. Lend a hand whenever you can, next time it might be your ass on the line. Being in need could get you killed.


    #3. Don''t ever be a hero. That''s a one-way ticket to getting yourself killed.


    He dug into his vest pocket, retrieving a pack of jerky. Tearing the ziplock open, he snatched up a hefty chunk and stuffed it into his mouth whole. A small smirk crept across his face and was immediately replaced by a scowl. Barely half a day into the apocalypse and he''d already violated rule number one. That girl, Amber, had scared the living daylights out of him when she''d popped up out of the ditch. His wits were nowhere to be found in that moment. Truth be told, he''d nearly pissed himself. Not the finest example of staying sharp, but at least he had recovered quickly.


    He grunted to himself, "Amber. Probably should have insisted she come along."


    She was just a kid after all, but damned if that would have broken rule number three. He wasn''t supposed to play the hero, plus she was better prepared than him at the moment. She''d even given him food and drink, a perfect example of rule number two. Hiding in the bushes at the sound of his approach¡ªrule number one. She had shelter in that old Jeep as well. Yeah, she''d be alright for a while. Once he got to the camp store, he could send help back up to get her, or go back up there himself with a better grasp of the situation he''d found himself in.


    "She''ll be safe up there." He muttered, as if trying to convince himself that he had made the right call in continuing on without her. A seed of doubt sprouted in his mind and he paused in the road, turning to look back at the way he had come. Debris littered the broken asphalt while the tall fir trees swayed in the wind. He couldn''t shake the memory of her worried voice as he had walked away.


    "Dan! I have a bad feeling. Maybe you should wait too?" She''d called out to him, her voice quavering while she wrung her hands and furrowed her brows.


    Had he let his toxic masculinity rear its ugly head when he''d dismissed her fear and left, telling her that it was ''Just the winds of change''?


    He let out a heavy sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now; she was over an hour and a half behind him. She''d just have to hang on until he got to the camp store and then he''d figure out how to get her off the mountain.


    He turned back in the direction he had been heading as the smell of earthy decay laced with sulphur floated in on the breeze and hit him square in the face. He cringed, wrinkling his nose. That stink had to be from the earthquake. With all the down trees and cracks in the ground, it was no surprise that some strange odors had taken to the air...right?


    Glancing around, he quickly took note of his surroundings. To his left, a steep drop led to an icy river, while to his right, a steep incline ran up around fifty feet before the loose soil and rocks gave way to forest.


    A flicker of shadowy movement on the mountainside, just inside the tree line caught his eye, and he squinted trying to see through the cloudy mist and rain. After several tense moments, he dismissed the stirring of the bushes for a wind gust and continued his march down the road, tucking the bag of jerky back into one pocket and retrieving a bottle of juice from another.


    Rule number one: Stay sharp. There is no sense in flinching at shadows, they are everywhere in a forest. But that didn''t mean he should brush them off either.


    Dan may not be as young and spry as he once was, but he still had his health and strength, not to mention the survival knife he always carried on his belt. Genuine military surplus. He unsheathed the knife grinning at the familiar muted gleam of razor-sharp steel. It gave him a sense of security. His rifle would have made him feel even better but he hadn''t taken it with him on his drive. He''d only planned to be gone from home for a couple of hours. Boy had he ever picked a shit day to go enjoy the mountains. At least his wife had the rifle for protection until he made it home.


    Juice bottle in his left hand and blade in his right, he walked on. There was no need to jump at shadows, but there was also no excuse for being ill prepared either. When in doubt, whip it out. He tossed the blade lightly in his hand as he walked.


    Another hour passed and he was making great time. At well over six feet tall, his lanky stride really covered ground. He was feeling rather pleased with himself, thinking how he most likely only had about another hour or so until he reached the camp store, when a swishing sound accompanied by the scratching of what could have only been claws on pavement sounded right behind him.


    The smell of sulfur and rot assaulted his senses and he whirled just in time to see a shadow with teeth and claws hurtling toward him. He dropped the juice bottle and brandished his knife at the emaciated creature, but he was too late. Glowing red eyes bore into his as he and the creature crashed to the ground.


    Sharp claws tore through Dan''s shoulder and ribs sending waves of agony shooting through his body. The creature''s yellow fangs snapped towards his throat. Every muscle in his body strained against the foul-smelling creature and ignoring the pain that burned through his body, he slashed the knife upwards and into the vulnerable hollow spot between the creature''s neck and shoulder. Black blood gushed out and it howled in pain. Momentarily stunned, it released its hold only to rake its wicked claws down the left side of Dan''s face. A guttural cry tore from his throat, the sound mingling with the beast''s own unearthly screeches.


    The creature lunged again, teeth bared and mere inches from Dan''s throat, the stench of its breath all but suffocating him. He grunted and thrashed trying to hold the beast at bay, but its strength was overwhelming. Somehow during the struggle, against all odds, Dan''s knife managed to find one of the creatures glowing, red eyes with a sickening squelch. It writhed in pain and released him, jumping away, dragging one front leg as it went. Silently, it disappeared back into the shadowy depths of the forest.


    Dazed and bleeding profusely, Dan hauled himself to his feet and continued on, lurching down the road to the camp store. As he stumbled along, blade still in hand, he kept his gaze fixed on the forest never letting his guard down. Searing pain throbbed through his body with every frantic beat of his heart while he took a mental inventory of his injuries.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    His left arm hung limply at his side, dangling uselessly from what he suspected was a dislocated shoulder. He shakily reached across his chest with his right arm and gingerly grasped his left, just below the injury, trying to stabilize it. Warm, sticky blood oozed from the gashes across the right side of his rib cage. And his face...? It felt unnaturally cold. He was pretty sure he no longer had a left ear, and that may have been the least life threatening of his injuries. His ribs screamed with every ragged breath he took.


    Probably had a couple of broken ones along with the flesh wounds. Damn-it! But even with the long list of injuries, he desperately clung to the fact that he wasn''t completely FUBAR.


    He needed to stop and fashion a makeshift sling for his injured arm but with that red-eyed demon creature still at large, he could not risk slowing down, not even for a moment.


    What was that thing? It looked like a cross between a cougar and a dog but it had been huge and hairless; black skin stretched tight over protruding bones. Even as emaciated as the creature was, it had still handled his big ass like a rag doll. He stumbled on down the road holding to his consciousness like a life preserver. He was losing too much blood. With every step, he could feel that consciousness draining from him, a fuzzy ring around his vision and dullness in his mind. If he passed out before he made it to the camp store, he was a dead man, so he pushed on through the pain and disorientation.


    The rain continued to hammer at him while his strength continued to dwindle, but finally, the camp store bobbed into view like a glowing beacon of hope. Only about a hundred yards left. He was going to make it. He had to make it.


    He breathed a ragged sigh of relief but with his next breath, came the scent of sulfur and rot.


    The creature came at him from the side this time, slinking out of the shadowed forest, a single malevolent, glowing eye fixed on Dan''s stumbling and broken body. He prepared to make his final stand, the air thick with the creatures'' stench.


    The beast circled, searching for a weak spot in Dan''s defenses, only a slight limp evident in its fluid stride. How had the thing healed up so quickly? It wasn''t even bleeding anymore.


    Locking its remaining eye on Dan''s dislocated shoulder, the creature screeched and leapt. Dan watched, his world moving in slow motion, as the creature sailed for his throat. With the last vestiges of his strength, he swept the survival knife up and deep into the soft spot below the creature''s jaw. They crumpled to the ground in a heap where the creature continued to flop around like a dying fish before finally laying still.


    Dan dragged himself over to retrieve his knife from the monster''s jaw, but the moment his fingers closed around the handle, the creature screamed again, writhing and struggling to get to its feet.


    With a primal roar, he wrenched the blade out of the stinking shadow''s jaw then buried it deep into the side of its head. Without a sound, the creature burst into flames.


    That was it. It was finally over. Dan rolled onto his back and let the cool embrace of darkness consume him.


    ****************


    Delirious and overcome by a fever-dreamlike state, images floated through Dan¡¯s mind while physical sensation was something distant.


    He lay face up on the ground while the rain fell on him. The echo of a low moan bounced around in his head as the blurry face of a dark-haired man floated into his line of sight. Pain shot through Dan''s entire body and another echoing groan escaped his lips. Jesus, he sounded terrible to his own ears. Was he floating? The treetops swayed at the edges of his vision and his head swam then everything went dark once more.


    Dan faded in and out of consciousness catching tiny bits of information as he did. There were two people tending to his injuries, a flame haired woman held him fast and stabilized his shoulder while the dark-haired man steadily and firmly tugged on his bent arm. With a soft click, his shoulder popped back into place. Dan groaned in relief and tried to thank them, but the darkness claimed him again.


    When some semblance of consciousness returned, all Dan could feel was burning. The left side of his face felt like it was on fire and the sensation was mirrored in the wounds across his ribs and shoulder. He was thrashing uncontrollably and the two people struggled to keep him still while placing a cool dressing over his wounds.


    "Please," Dan croaked, "What is h-happening to m-me? God, make it stop. It b-burns."


    Neither one answered him and their voices sounded far away and thick with worry when they spoke to each other.


    "That was a Darkling Spawn, Erik. When was the last time you saw even a trace of them in these forests?" The woman said.


    "I can''t remember when, it''s been a long time. A very long time." The dark-haired man responded.


    "You know we''re too isolated out here, even with The Light dome. We''re sitting ducks." The red-haired woman said, "We need to get to The Snow Forest, or to Evergreen at the very least, and there are precious few outposts between here and there. We need to move now before things get chaotic. You know we do."


    The Snow Forest? What is an outpost? And what did they call that shadow with teeth? Darkling Spawn? What the Hell was going on?


    Dan''s thoughts thrashed as wildly as his body was. Why was he shaking so badly?


    "W-what is g-going on?" Dan asked again, hoping the pair would take notice this time. "I have a w-wife and kids. I just want to g-go h-home. They need m-me." He reached out and a strong hand clasped his own.


    "We''re here, friend. We''ve got you." Erik, the dark-haired man, said. His face floated into Dan''s view and he smiled a reassuring smile before turning his attention to the woman.


    "Alma, we can''t just let him die. It''s not right. He killed that Spawn. He deserves better than this."


    "It might be too late," Alma replied. "He''s strong, true, but he may be too strong to simply give up the spark."


    "We can save him, I know there''s a risk, but if we do nothing, it could be worse." Erik said, eyes boring into Alma''s.


    There was a long pause before Erik continued in a huff, "Well, if you won''t do it, I will. Hold him down. I''ll be right back."


    Erik released Dan''s hand and left the room.


    Alma sighed and took up Dan''s hand in her own.


    "Lucky for you, that male has a stubborn streak wider than the Columbia River." Shaking her head, she smoothed his sweat-damp hair back from his forehead. "You''re going to be alright, friend."


    "Dan. My name is D-Dan."


    Alma smiled down at him, "You''re gonna make it, Dan. Just hold on."


    Dan''s tremors continued for several minutes while they waited for Erik to return.All he knew was burning agony.Why didn¡¯t he just pass out?


    When Erik reappeared he was carrying a small mason jar filled with a thick, dark liquid.


    "This is going to taste horrible and will probably give you a bit of a bellyache, but it won''t last long. Just drink it all."


    "W-what is it?" Dan croaked.


    "An old family remedy for Spawn Poison." Erik said. The corner of his mouth quirked into a wry smile. "The poison is killing you, this is like an anti-venom."


    So, he really was dying. The thought passed through Dan''s mind with a chill. After all the study and practice, he wasn''t even going to make it past day one of the apocalypse. What was going to happen to his wife and kids? God, were they dead already? He had to know. He couldn''t just die here in a room with strangers. He had a duty and responsibility to his family and community.


    He couldn''t just die here!


    Dan struggled to gain control of his shaking body to sit up, but all he could manage was a frustrated groan as he tried to lift his head.


    "I''ve got you, friend." Erik said as he gently lifted Dan''s head and pressed the jar to his lips.


    Dan swallowed a mouthful of the viscous fluid. It coated his mouth and dropped into his gut like a nine-pound sledgehammer. His body revolted and the substance nearly came back up.


    "Just breathe, Dan. Breathe. The first drink is the worst part." Alma said while smoothing back his hair. "Swallow hard and keep it down."


    The moments seemed to pass like hours as his stomach roiled and the burning sensation in his body grew worse. Gradually though, the scorching pain in his wounds cooled and his tremors began to subside.


    "There ya go." Erik said. "That''s it. Feeling a little better now, ya?"


    Dan nodded weakly and Erik pressed the jar to his lips once more. The smell of the stuff hit his nose and the thought of swallowing it again turned his stomach. He wretched. Why did it smell like wine vinegar and...blood?


    "I know, it''s foul, but this drink won''t be nearly as bad if you can get past the smell. Trust me." Erik said. "Drink up, you got this."


    Summoning some courage and strength, Dan raised a shaky hand to the other side of the jar and together he and Erik tipped it back. He sucked down the rest of whatever was in the jar and hardly tasted it. Erik was a man of his word.


    As it landed in his belly, a relaxing warmth began to spread through his body. Within moments, his tremors ceased altogether and he sighed in relief.


    "I don''t know what that stuff is," Dan breathed, "But thank God for it. And thank God for you folks."


    "Don''t thank us, thank the Goddess. We''re just Her messengers." Alma said solemnly. "Now try and rest, you''ll be feeling better soon." She laid a comforting hand on his chest. "Sleep, Seed Child. You are protected by The Light."


    As Dan began to relax, he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. Who were these people and how did they know so much about a creature that, by all rights, shouldn''t even exist? He supposed he could think more on that later. His mind was foggy and sleep was quickly creeping in to claim his consciousness. The last thing he remembered before he slipped off to sleep was Erik gently laying his head back on a rolled-up towel.


    *************


    Dan woke as the gray, early morning light was peeking through the windows of the camp store. He gingerly took stock of himself and his surroundings. He had been laid out on a pile of sleeping bags near the register.


    Miraculously, his head was clear and he felt strong, almost invigorated. He slowly sat up, waiting for his world to start spinning and when nothing happened, he ran cautious hands over his bare arms, chest and face. He had been washed, all remnants of that shadow''s black blood and his own were gone, and clean, white dressings covered his ribs and shoulder.


    Surprisingly, he felt no pain at all other than a lingering, dull ache in his ribs and left ear.


    His brows climbed up toward his receding hairline and his hand shot back to the side of his head.


    Holy shit. He had an ear!

 Chapter 6 - An Impossible Choice

    Dan


    Dan would have never called himself a man of great faith, but as he sat numbly on his pallet of sleep sacks, virtually pain free and running calloused fingers across a newly formed ear, he could think of no better phrase than ''Goddamn Miraculous''. The only thing able to bring miracles, in his limited experience, was a higher power. He''d called that higher power God, just like most people did, even if he didn''t personally believe in the average, Christian description of what God was. But his saviors, Erik and Alma, had told him to ''thank the Goddess'' and that they were ''simply Her messengers''.


    That one statement had singlehandedly thrown his entire belief system in a blender. He shook his head in disbelief. How? How was it actually possible? Gathering his legs beneath himself, he gingerly rose to his full height and stretched, looking around the camp store. Fresh clothes were laid out for him in a pile on the counter beside the register. He glanced down to discover that he was as naked as the day he was born.


    "Don''t remember that happening," He grunted to himself then chuckled, but was he really supposed to remember every detail of his ordeal when he had been literally torn apart and on death''s doorstep the last time he was conscious? He supposed his state of undress should be the least of his concerns at the moment and wondered where his guardian angels, Erik and Alma, were hiding. He quickly swiped the pants off the counter and tugged them on, then reached for the shirt and jacket. Clothes in hand, he padded barefoot around the counter and through an open door that led to the building''s living quarters.


    The space looked comfortable with well worn, overstuffed furniture, a wood stove and enormous built-in shelves. The kitchen appeared well appointed and the dining table, set in the center of the space, was large. Images from the night before flashed through his mind and he stumbled slightly. He''d been laid out on that table. That''s where Erik and Alma had reset his shoulder, where they had cleaned his wounds...where he had drunk that liquid. A single glowing eye bore into his and the stench of the creature filled his senses.


    His gut lurched and he dropped the clothes, rushing to the sink.


    Keep it down. Erik''s voice echoed in his mind and he swallowed thickly at the memory. Shaking, burning with fever.


    Breathing deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth, Dan gripped the edge of the old farmhouse sink and closed his eyes, waiting for the flashback and wave of nausea to pass. He whispered expletives under his breath and broke out in a full body sweat. His heart pounded in his ears and his throat started to close, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts.


    No, no. Not again. It had been years since¡ª. He recognized the pattern of a panic attack and grappled for control. His ears rang and his mind swam with foggy visions of the past. Sand filled his mouth, nose and eyes. He couldn''t see...couldn''t breathe...someone was screaming in the distance. No. It wasn''t real. He wasn''t overseas. It was just a bad memory...just a memory. What had the therapist told him? Inhale slowly for five seconds. Exhale for five seconds. Keep your eyes closed and focus on your breathing. He did just that but it was having little effect.


    "It''s over. There''s no sand. I''m safe." His mantra slipped from whispered, sand-coated lips. "It''s over. There''s no sand. I''m safe." He repeated. "There''s no sand, there''s no sand, there''s no¡ª" He coughed and spit into the sink. He needed water. Cranking the faucet on full blast, he nearly cried when nothing came out. Turning, he jerked the refrigerator open and grabbed a bottle of water. He just needed to rinse away the sand and the smell and the memory.


    The familiar pattern of paralyzing fear slowly morphing into rage ran through him. This...this he knew. And it scared him. Back to fear. He slowly sank to the floor and struggled to twist the cap of the bottle. He just needed water. He just needed to breathe. He was safe. It was over. There was no sand. He needed water. The rage swept in again. Why couldn''t he just open the damn bottle? He felt like a growling, caged bear. The room was closing in. He couldn''t breathe. The sand, the stench of that creature, he needed water. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on his breathing. "It''s over, there is no sand, I''m safe." He managed to croak out.


    "Dan? Are you okay?" A deep voice sounded from across the room. Heavy boots pounded toward him.


    "It''s over, there is no sand, I''m safe." Dan croaked again, eyes still closed.


    "Shit." Erik hissed, as he cranked the cap off the bottle in Dan''s trembling hands. "Here-here-here, take a sip. Slowly now."


    "There''s no sand. I''m safe."


    Erik pressed the bottle to Dan''s lips. The moment the water touched his mouth, Dan''s eyes flew open. He drank and spat and dumped the contents of the bottle on his face. Water. He''d just needed water. He closed his eyes and scrubbed his face with his palm as his breathing began to slow and he let his head fall back to bounce against the cupboard.


    Erik still crouched before him looking terribly concerned when Dan finally opened his eyes.


    "Shit, I''m sorry. Sorry you had to see that." He breathed.


    "No need to apologize, friend. You''ve been through Hell." Erik stood and offered a hand to Dan. "I''m sorry I wasn''t here when you woke."


    Still feeling off kilter, Dan took a moment to reorient himself. He was in the kitchen of the camp store. The dark-haired man extending his hand was Erik. One of the people he owed his life to. One of his guardian angels. Erik''s face was almost too beautiful to be considered masculine, but his deep-set eyes, straight nose and strong jaw could have graced any number of his wife''s large collection of romance novels. With a sigh, Dan raised his own hand and Erik helped him to his feet then clapped him on the shoulder.


    "Thanks." Dan said, offering a smile. He couldn''t help but notice that he had to look up slightly to meet Erik''s eyes, a rarity for him. That put Erik somewhere around six and a half feet tall. Damn.


    Erik pulled a chair out and motioned for Dan to sit. "You''re going to need some food. Sit tight, I''ll go get some meat."


    All Dan could do was nod as he slumped into the wooden dining chair. He didn''t feel like eating, especially after that panic attack, but he couldn''t deny that he needed the food. If people were offering to feed him, he should take advantage. His stomach growled at the thought. Food would be good. And candy. Maybe some fruit too? The last of the shakes from the panic attack were fading and he sighed in relief. He hadn''t had one that bad since he was just out of the service, and he silently hoped that the experience with that stinking shadow with teeth wouldn''t compound the PTSD that he''d already been struggling with. He ran a hand through his hair and brought the water bottle to his lips.


    Just then, Erik returned with sausage and eggs, Alma trailed into the room behind him, and Dan nearly choked on the last swallow of water left in the bottle. She was gorgeous. How had he not remembered just how pretty she was?


    Well, he had been dying, so there was that. She was tall as well, even though she was a good head shorter than Erik. Her deep red hair was tied back into a long ponytail and her large, green eyes raked him from head to toe as she walked into the room.


    "Where''s the rest of the clothes I laid out for you, Seed Child?" She asked, full lips tilting into a small smile.


    Dan glanced around quickly, wondering where he''d dropped them and found them laying in a small pile not far from the doorway that led into the market section of the building. He began to rise and retrieve them, but Alma was already making her way there.


    She gathered them up off the floor and handed them back to Dan. "The bathroom is down the hall, second door on the right. I filled the sink with warm water for washing and there is a bucket of water in the shower to use to flush the toilet with. Just refill it when you''re done. The hand pump is out back."


    He nodded in thanks, speechless and shuffled to the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he let out a breath he hadn''t realized he''d been holding. Had he been a younger man and single...his thoughts traveled to places they hadn''t been in years and he shook his head.


    What had gotten into him? Reaching out to grab the shirt Alma had left him, he snapped it up and tugged it over his head.


    Did it smell like her? Pushing that train of thought out of his mind, he glanced in the old, medicine cabinet mirror to smooth his hair and his mouth fell open. Not only did he miraculously have an ear, but he looked younger too. At least ten years younger. Leaning closer to the mirror, he inspected his face. The worry lines on his forehead and smile lines around his eyes and mouth were gone while his hair was darker and thicker. Cautious hands traveled to the hem of the shirt he''d just pulled on and lifted it. To his shock, rippled muscle sat where a slight beer belly had resided just the day before. He hadn''t been in that kind of shape since he was in the service. Stripping the shirt off, he peeled the bandages away from his wounds. Smooth skin, not the stitches he had expected, greeted him. The only evidence that he''d been filleted like a fish was a faint spidering of red marks across his shoulder, ribs and face.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    How? How was it possible?


    He nearly ripped the door off its hinges as he sprinted from the bathroom and back to the kitchen. "How!?" He all but yelled at Alma and Erik.


    They shot one another a knowing glance and gestured to the table.


    "Here we go." Erik said under his breath, then louder, "Have a seat, my friend, we have a lot to talk about and not much time to do it in."


    Dan strode to the table and sat, leaning forward, elbows on his knees while Erik finished frying the eggs and sausage and Alma toasted the bread in a pan. His stomach rumbled at the scents of food and he sighed, leaning back again in the chair. He inspected his bare arms and torso.


    When he had first awoken on that pile of sleeping bags, he had felt invigorated, better than he had in years, and now he took a moment to really feel into his body for the myriad of old injuries that had come back to haunt him over the past decade. From his arthritic elbow and shoulder to his aching knees and constantly sore back, he felt absolutely none of the pain that normally infiltrated every aspect of his life.


    Invigorated was too soft a word. He felt ten feet tall and bulletproof. He felt like he could have gone and maxed out a PT test. Practically overflowing with energy, he shifted in his seat. He wanted to blow something up. Wanted to do a keg stand. Wanted to hit the bar with his buddies and get some tail. With every heartbeat, the energy inside him intensified.


    He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands, "What in God''s name is going on?" His voice came out muffled and strained.


    "Goddess." Alma corrected as she set a heaping plate on the table before him.


    Dan glanced up at her, eyes darting around her face before settling on her mouth. "Jesus, you''re beautiful." He said in a daze as he reached out to take her hand.


    What in the actual fuck was going on with his head?  He''d just been an anxiety ridden mess not twenty minutes ago and now...now he felt like a kid in his early twenties with only one thing on his mind.


    "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know." She replied, gently smacking his hand away. "Now eat your food. You''re just buzzing from the remedy."


    "What was in that?" He asked, squirming in his chair, while Alma turned back to the stove. He completely ignored the plate of food in front of him. "I feel like a candy kid, gacked out on molly at a rave. I can''t sit still," His palms returned to his face then his fingers raked through his hair. "And I wanna touch everything." Even his hair tingled. "You guys are my friends, right?"


    What was this rubbish flying out of his mouth?! He was equal parts excited, terrified, mortified and aroused.


    Alma glanced at Erik and tried not to snicker. Turning back to Dan, she said, "Your wounds are healed but the remedy is still working.Try not to fight it.First, you need to fill yourself with something pleasurable...a dopamine hit.Food is a good place to start. If that doesn''t work..." She trailed off for a moment and glanced back at Erik, quirking a perfectly shaped brow, as if looking for approval. He nodded slightly and she finished, "We''ll try...something else. Just eat the food and see how you feel."


    Dan reluctantly picked up his fork and stabbed a sausage patty, then shoved it into his mouth whole. The flavors exploded across his tastebuds, nothing he had eaten in his life had ever tasted so good and he groaned, scooping up a lump of scrambled eggs. He shoved those into his mouth and could do nothing to hold back the grin spreading across his face. "This is delicious." His words muffled around the food. He ate like he hadn''t seen food in months.


    Erik and Alma both fixed themselves a plate and sat down facing Dan, studying him. When his plate was nearly clean, he glanced up at Erik and Alma.


    They looked at him expectantly. "Are you feeling more yourself?" Erik asked while pushing some eggs around his plate.


    "Well, I feel less," He paused, searching for the right words, "Agitated."


    That didn''t fully encompass how he was feeling, but it would have to do.


    "Thank the stars," Alma sighed in what looked like relief.


    Unsure of what to say, but still buzzy enough to not care, Dan took a deep breath and asked, "So, how many days was I out? It had to have been weeks. And how did this heal up so well?" He gestured to the red marks on his face and torso. "I''m hardly going to have a scar and that thing carved me up like a thanksgiving turkey."


    Alma''s face was deadly serious. She gently laid her fork on her plate and placed her elbows on the table, fingertips steepled. "It''s only been about eleven hours since you drank the remedy. We found you in the road at about noon yesterday. Erik carried you inside."


    "There''s no way." Dan stated flatly. It made absolutely no logical sense.


    "We swear on the Light Mother''s Throne, she speaks the truth." Erik''s stare pierced Dan''s very soul and something seemed to jolt inside of him. A thrill ran through his body and his eyes went wide.


    A self-satisfied smile spread across Erik''s face and he leaned back in his chair, crossing well-muscled arms over his chest. "Our sparks commune, you can feel it.You know what we say is true, don''t you?"


    Dan''s mouth went dry. Every cell in his body sang. The world around him snapping into crystal clear focus. "My God, I do. I don''t know how but I do."


    "Then listen closely, we have a lot to tell you before we need to leave this place." Alma said.


    Dan nodded numbly and she continued while quickly eating her breakfast. Between mouthfuls she explained, "When we brought you inside, I was sure that you were going to die, but you just kept on breathing. Erik bound your wounds and we set your shoulder then we waited. We-um... argued a bit on what we should do with you."


    "I think I remember bits and pieces of that." Dan added. Blistering pain shot through his mind and he winced. "What convinced you to give me that drink?"


    "Well, lucky for you, Erik is a softhearted being, and no matter what I could have said or done, he had made up his mind to save you the moment he scooped you up off the road." Alma had the decency to look more than a little chagrinned. "For what it''s worth, I''m glad that he gave you that remedy." Her eyes seemed to smolder, "Perhaps if we had met during a less chaotic time," She trailed off but her eyes held Dan''s gaze.


    Dan''s knee crashed into the table. "You can''t be suggesting what I think you are. Aren''t you two...together?" He asked in a stammering rush.


    "Goddess, no." Erik said around a mouthful of food. "Friends. Just friends. Anyway, once you come down from the healing buzz, she''ll probably lay off. You''re oozing virility right now."


    Dan stifled a cough. So, he wasn''t mistaken! Alma was coming on to him. Nobody but his wife had even given him a second look in years. And what did Erik mean by ''oozing virility''? He shook his head trying not to allow his overactive mind to travel down the path it was on and asked, "So, the healing. How does it work?"


    "The short answer is that it''s a gift from The Light Mother and a family secret."


    "How bout the long answer?" Dan quirked an eyebrow. "Cause I haven''t looked or felt this good in a decade at least."


    Erik hesitated a moment as if struggling with himself. "Oh, what does it matter now?" He mumbled, then shifted in his seat. "Your science does not know of its existence, and we''d like to keep it that way, if you don''t mind, but I will tell you this; right now, your cells are going through a massive reconstruction. Your body, your whole body is healing. Not just your injuries. Even your brain."


    "There is nothing in the known world that can reverse aging." Dan snorted.


    "Like I said, it''s a family secret, and we''d like to keep it that way. You''ve seen what it''s doing in the mirror. You can feel it from your head to your toes."


    Dan had to admit that Erik was right. He definitely felt something. "When I was...dying...I heard Alma say that I might be too strong to simply give up the spark. What does that mean?"


    Before Erik could answer, Alma took over. "Every being on this planet has a spark. Hume¡ªer, humans call it a soul. That soul is a tiny piece of the goddess. When one of her creations is injured by a Darkling or one of its Spawn, the creation usually dies. However, there are some that are strong enough to hold to life. When that happens, the darkness takes over and the spark is swallowed by the spawn''s influence."


    "I don''t understand." Dan''s mind reeled. Life wasn''t a science fiction movie. That shit just didn''t happen.


    "Fortunately, you don''t actually have to understand it. You can keep away from the spawn just the same either way. The important takeaway here is that if someone you love gets attacked by a spawn, it''s best to put them out of their misery." Erik spoke clearly and firmly.


    Dan''s mind started making connections. "When all those maulings and disappearances happened last summer, was it those creatures?"


    Erik and Alma nodded solemnly.


    "How do you know so much about what''s going on? No one had a clue last year, and here you two sit with a magic heal-all potion and more knowledge than seems natural." Dan waved his hand and leaned forward, bringing his elbows to rest on the table.


    Alma spoke this time, quiet and low. "Our family has been protecting this area from those creatures for more than thirty generations and there were others before us. There is much that humans don''t understand about this world and things are about to get very, very messy."


    Dan gaped as that thrill, that shock of energy, ran through him again and his heart settled somewhere in his gut. These people weren''t lying to him. His eyes flicked from Alma''s to Erik''s and then back again. Those eyes held a depth that he hadn''t noticed before, full of ancient knowledge and power.


    "I need to get back to my family." Dan croaked. "But there''s a girl about 8 miles up the road stranded in her car." Amber''s worried face flashed in his mind. "We''ve got to go get her. She''s just a kid...twiggy little thing...she wouldn''t stand a chance against one of those creatures."


    "Absolutely out of the question." Alma nearly spat. "There''s never just one spawn. And if, by some miracle, the one you killed was alone, it wouldn''t have been for long. If you left her there yesterday, you''ve already signed her death warrant. There isn''t a chance under the stars that she''s still alive."


    "Shit." Dan''s entire soul withered. "But what if she is? Her chances of survival get lower every second we spend here. I made her a promise. I told her I would send up a flare if there was still food here, if it was still safe. We have to go get her. And if you two wont help, I''ll do it myself."


    "Dan, if you send up a flare now and she is still alive, she wont be if she leaves her car." Erik''s voice was gentle and sympathetic. "The Darkling and their spawn can only move in darkness. The thick cloud cover here makes this area a paradise for them. If she goes out in the rain..." He trailed off a moment before beginning again. "If she has the good sense to stay put and the spawn don''t manage to find her, the only chance she has is to wait for a sunny day to make the walk on her own."


    Dan shook his head violently. He''d fucked up. He''d fucked up bad.


    "We can''t go deeper into the forest now. We need to head down the mountain, away from the forest. The spawn will be weak, like the one that attacked you, for a few more days at most, but as they grow in strength and number, we''ll end up stuck here. Even though it''s raining now, our best chance is to head out as soon as possible, before they get too strong." Alma explained.


    "But what if we waited for a sunny day? Then we go up there and bring her back? We could just wait for the sun again, then leave here. All of us, together." Dan tried reasoning with them but again he was met with resistance.


    "If we don''t leave now, the spawn could make their way down out of the mountains and to your home before you do." Alma''s gaze held Dan''s. "You said you had a wife and kids. Would you leave them to face those damn things alone? Without you?"


    She had a point. If this really was the apocalypse, then this was war, albeit, a completely different kind of war than he had ever experienced, but a war none the less. It would be every man for himself. And if some ancient creature was here to facilitate the end of times, he needed to be with his family. He needed his community to survive. In war, sometimes the few were sacrificed to save the many. The third rule to survive the apocalypse popped into his mind. Don''t ever be a hero. That''s a one-way ticket to getting yourself killed.


    "Damn-it!" He growled and pounded a fist against the table. Alma jumped, but Erik just took a deep, impatient breath.


    Alma''s chair scratched across the vinyl floor as she stood and cleared their plates. "I''m just going to take care of these." She disappeared through the wide doorway and down the hallway, leaving the two men alone.


    "I know this is a hard decision¡ª," Erik started but Dan cut him off.


    "It''s not hard, it''s impossible. She''s just a kid and I made her a promise. But my family needs me. She said she lives at home with her single mom and brother. If I leave her up there, it''s my fault that they''ll never know what happened to her."


    "I know this is hard. I know it, but you strike me as a very prepared man. Did you do any research on what would happen to the population in the event of a nationwide power outage?"


    Dan nodded stiffly. He had done the research, and the estimates were dire. Some studies stated that more than eighty percent of the population wouldn''t last six months. Half the population would be gone in less than three months.


    "Now imagine a hoard of Darkling Spawn doing their damnedest to annihilate the remainder of the folks that survived." Erik said.


    Dan''s shoulders sagged.


    Erik paused a moment before continuing, "This is an extinction level event but our family and many others like it will be gathering far to the north to fight this darkness. We''ve been waiting for this our whole lives. We''ve trained for this our whole lives, and The Snow Forest is going to need all the help it can get. What I''m trying to say is that we need strong people like you in the community to help hold things together. I didn''t give you my bloo¡ªthat bloody remedy for you to go wasting your second chance at life."


    Dan just shook his head not wanting to admit that Erik was right. His eyes welled up and he blinked away the tears. "This fucking sucks." He sniffed and scrubbed at his eyes.


    Erik stood slowly and moved to Dan''s side. "It does. And there isn''t anything we can do about it...yet." He laid a gentle hand on Dan''s shoulder. Get some water and get dressed. Meet us out back when you''re ready. We leave at mid-day."


    Eyes on the table, Dan listened to Erik''s retreating steps and sighed. It just wasn''t fair.

 Chapter 7 - Seed Child

    Dan


    Dressed and ready for the journey, Dan stepped out the back door and closed it quietly behind him.Glancing around, the dark forest looked sinister, the shadows seeming to scowl down at him.Were the creatures out there watching him already?Light rattling and low voices caught his attention and he followed the sound to a shed.His saviors were in there tinkering with three old mountain bikes.


    "Aren''t you worried those things are going to hear you?"Dan asked, poking his head into the shed door.


    "Relax, Seed Child," Alma teased."This place is protected by the light."


    "What does that mean exactly?And why do you keep calling me seed child?"


    "This place is protected by The Mother''s Light.No creature of darkness can step within its protective dome.And I call you ''seed child'' because that''s what you are."She winked up at Dan then said, "We''ll have more time for explanations later.Help me with this."She turned one of the bicycles upside down and handed him a wrench.


    "What are we doing with these?" He asked, trying not to pay attention to his raging libido.He already knew the answer, but he needed something to take his mind off the tension he was feeling.


    "Well, as much as it would probably help you to go for a long run, I don''t feel like walking off this mountain."Alma chuckled lightly, "We''re going to ride them."


    Dan raked a hand through his hair and knelt, absently noting that his knees no longer crunched with the motion.  He checked all the nuts and bolts on his bike, then reached for a can of chain lubricant.The lengthy silence between them was beginning to feel awkward, as were the utterly filthy images of Alma flashing through his mind.He broke the silence with a frustrated sigh, "Do either of you know how long I''m going to feel like this?"


    "Still feeling a little riled up?"Erik asked while Alma unsuccessfully tried to hide a small smile.


    "Yeah." Dan shook his head, "I thought it was leveling out but it''s getting worse again."


    "I gave you a bigger dose of the remedy than I normally would have because your injuries were so extensive, so the buzz could hang around for a few days." Erik grimaced, "Sorry about that."


    Dan blanched, "Days? How am I supposed to function?"


    "Well, being around her isn''t helping," Erik said, pointing a thumb in Alma''s direction while rising from a crouch. "But once we get down the road, most of the extra...energy...you''re feeling should dissipate with exercise.Any activity that normally releases endorphins will take the edge off, but once you''re home, I would suggest bedding your wife.Immediately." He winked and chuckled as if he had been in a similar situation sometime in the past.


    Dan snorted and pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Seriously, I don''t think I''ve ever felt this out of control.You could make millions selling that remedy as an aphrodisiac."


    "It''s more than just the remedy that''s got you in a twist, friend.It took me years of living under the same roof as her to learn how to manage it.One of her goddess given gifts is to bring a person''s deepest desires to the surface.Seed children tend to have a fairly standard desire, especially the males."Erik said with a small, crooked smile. "Even I fell victim to that desire when she and I first met.  If it''s any consolation, you appear to have much more self-control than most people would in your position.Myself included."


    Dan pursed his lips.  He still didn''t fully understand the depth of his situation, but he caught the drift.He was definitely caught in the middle of something much bigger than he would have liked.


    His mind reeled.  These people even talked like their goddess was actually present in their lives, not just some wizard sky-daddy that gave people commandments to live by and was never heard from again.He had to know if his hunch was correct.


    "This Goddess, the Light Mother, is she here, on earth?" Dan asked, feeling foolish but wanting the answer too badly to care how he came off.


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    "She is." Erik answered.


    The implications of that answer crashed into Dan, pushing all preconceived notions of what or who God was right out of his head.A goddess, the Goddess existed.Really existed.On this earth.


    "So, you said earlier that you''re heading north, how far are you going?" He asked, probing for answers to the connections and ideas sprouting in his mind.


    "Far."Erik said flatly."We''ll try to make it all the way to the snow forest, to the Light Mother herself, but we may not have enough time.If that ends up being the case, we''ll make for the village of Evergreen."


    "Where is that?" Dan asked.


    "Hidden near the sea."


    Dan waited for Erik to elaborate, but the silent set of his jaw and shoulders spoke so loud, Dan knew the other man would say no more about it.He opened his mouth to press the issue a bit when what Erik had said a moment ago finally sank in."Wait, the Light Mother is in the Snow Forest?"


    It was Alma who answered, her voice dreamy and light."She is. Flesh and bone and light.She lives and breathes, just as we all do."


    Dan''s felt as if the very air had been sucked from his chest and he gaped in awe.


    Alma continued, "There are a great many truths in this world that have been twisted to suit the needs of evil men.The tale of creation first among them.Stars willing, you may live long enough to learn them all.But that''s a conversation for a later time.We need to get you home."


    With their means of transportation solidified, Alma disappeared into the house to grab their supplies while Erik pulled Dan toward the basement.Most of the tension plaguing Dan''s body eased as the flame haired woman disappeared from his sight and he breathed a ragged sigh of relief.Erik chuckled lightly and shook his head as he descended the wooden stairs ahead of Dan.


    "Is it that obvious?"Dan asked, feeling slightly ashamed and still not fully understanding why his body was reacting to Alma''s presence so strongly.He had absolutely no real desire for anyone but his beloved wife.She was a wonderful mother, beautiful, strong-willed and stubborn.


    "If you''re feeling bad about your feelings toward Alma right now, don''t.Like I said earlier, it''s part of her nature, her gift, if you could call it that.And with the remedy in your system, you are more aware of your body and its growing strength...as well as Alma''s gift. You aren''t going to feel so randy forever, I assure you.But, on the plus side, the physical changes you''ve gone through will be lasting."


    They stepped off the stairs and entered the basement proper.Erik flicked on a flashlight.


    "You''re kidding me."Dan almost squeaked and Erik grinned over his shoulder at him, raising the flashlight to scan the room."Like a permanent age reset?"


    Erik nodded silently before continuing deeper into the basement.


    Dan reeled at the thought.How was all this happening? "Care to elaborate?"


    "Consider it a gift of The Light.And if you make it out of what''s to come still breathing, you''ll eventually learn all you need to know."


    Dan shrugged and let the matter lie following Erik deeper into the basement.It was dank and musty, all the contents covered in a layer of fine dust, but despite the dust, the space was orderly and dry.Erik moved to a large crate, covered in a dusty cloth.


    "Help me move this."Together they lifted it and placed it in the middle of the room, beside an old weight bench, metal clanked on metal.


    "Golf clubs?" Dan raised an eyebrow.


    "Far from it, friend."Erik lifted the dirty cloth to reveal a long sword, a pair of short swords and a recurve bow with quiver and arrows.


    "Holy shit," Dan gaped.First miraculous healing and now weapons that looked like they were straight out of a fantasy movie.What was happening?Should he even ask?"Why not a big-ass gun?"


    "Guns are almost useless against the spawn.The only way to kill them is brain trauma or beheading.When they''re at their full strength, they heal too fast.Bullets won''t even slow them down unless the caliber is big enough.Even then, unless you''re lucky enough to get a headshot, they won''t die.Getting in close, lopping off limbs, that''s the best way to cripple them. Then," He made a quick swiping motion with his arm, "off with their heads.Or, if you''re good with a bow, you could put an arrow right through one of their beady little eyes."


    "Are you telling me that the rest of our lives are going to be spent risking life and limb against those things?"Dan asked.


    "Unfortunately, yes." Erik nodded."If you thought the daily grind and nine to five was harrowing, you''re in for some brutal times, friend.Just surviving without all the comforts you''re accustomed to is going to be a challenge."


    Dan sighed.Just like his time in the sand box, except now, it was his family on the line, not just his own ass.


    A thoughtful look crossed Erik''s face, "Unless you can get your family back up here.This is the only outpost within a hundred-mile radius.You''d be isolated but completely safe under the light dome.Our family has existed here for generations, so it''s possible to survive here, even for you, but it would be a hard life, though not so hard as it would be without the protection of the dome."


    Dan mulled the idea over in his mind.What lengths would he go to?He would literally suck shit through a straw to keep them safe if that''s what it took.He supposed that he would have plenty of time to mull over their situation later, but for now, he needed to focus on getting back to his family. He was pulled away from his thoughts by a feminine shout.


    "Ok, guys, are we ready?"Alma called down the basement stairs.


    "Just about."Erik called back to her as he strapped on his sword belt and slung the bow and quiver over his shoulder.He reached deeper into the crate and removed a matched pair of sheathed daggers, one rested in a cross-body chest scabbard, the other sat in a belt designed to carry the wicked blade at the back of the waist.The hilts shone even in the dim light of the basement, the craftsmanship like nothing Dan had ever seen.He handed them to Dan."My gift to you, friend.It isn''t much, but they''re a far sight better than that crude steel blade you had."


    "You''ve got that right."Dan accepted the daggers with a reverent nod and Erik turned to leave.


    "Wait, we should leave something for Amber."Dan said.


    Erik looked at him, eyes studying. Several heartbeats later he finally said, "She can have the whole store.I''ll leave a window unlocked."


    Dan nodded and Erik turned to go but Dan paused in following him.He should give Amber some sign that he''d made it out, even if it was foolish to hope for such a thing.Even if she was already dead.He had to do something. Turning quickly, he used his finger to write in the dust covered vinyl of the weight bench.


    Be safe, girl. I''m sorry.


    He gave the basement one last look before stepping out of the life he''d once known, and into the new, strange world he''d found himself in.

 Chapter 8 - Walking Out

    With Dan gone, the next two days passed in a blur of endless rain and restless anticipation as I searched the sky for some sign of the flare he had promised to send up. Gazing out the back window of the Jeep with my eyes on the sky, I never saw a thing except clouds, but the shadows in the forest seemed to twist and writhe around me. I couldn''t shake the sickening feeling of unseen eyes watching me.


    At first, I thought the moving shadows were simply a trick of the eyes or my imagination running away with me, but the longer I stared out of the rain streaked windows of the Jeep, the more certain I became. There was indeed something lurking in the shadows of the forest, waiting for the opportunity to strike.


    At the end of my third day stranded, I ate my last bits of solid food as the sun set. Streaks of red, orange and pink colored the sky and as I took stock of what I had left and I hoped with everything I was that the next day would be clear and dry. I still had a bag of candy bars, some trail mix, a bottle of water and a bottle of juice. That would hold me for another day at most, so despite my fears and the things lurking in the shadows, I was going to have to walk to the camp store in the morning, rain or shine.


    I laid my head down, snuggling deep into my sleeping bag and began silently bidding the Jeep farewell.


    I awoke the next morning to the cheery songs of birds outside my window. The sky was bright and the damp trees glistened in the pale rays of sun. I breathed a sigh of relief and rolled out of my sleeping bag to peer out of the windows. The forest looked oddly welcoming and I canted my head to one side in confusion. After so many days of darkness, the twisting shadows and sense of foreboding seemed to have blown away on the wind with the clouds. I opened the car door, cautiously at first and took in my surroundings. A light breeze whispered through the treetops carrying with it the sweet scent of clean, damp earth and early budding life. The air was fresh and devoid of the sulfurous rot that had surrounded me for days.


    Had I imagined the entire thing? Did I really let my anxiety keep me stuck in the Jeep for three solid days?


    My heart beat strong with excitement and relief. I was going to be able to get out of there. I could save myself.  I packed carefully and closed the doors, but left them unlocked. If anyone else was stuck up here, maybe the Jeep could give them a dry place to rest. I set out down the road at a determined pace, chin held high.


    one last look back at the Jeep as I walked away, I nearly started crying seeing it disappear behind me surrounded by fallen debris. I blinked away the tears that threatened and rubbed my face concentrating on the obstructions in the road.


    The last thing I needed was to fall and hurt myself because I was getting all sentimental about a piece of machinery, but some of my best memories involved that old car. So many adventures, so many miles, so many years together. I pushed all of it to the back of my mind. Survival should be first and foremost. I needed to make a plan to get myself home. If the phones worked at the camp store, I could get a hold of a tow company to retrieve the Jeep and then finally call my mom to let her know I was alright.  Maybe Dan was there too, still waiting on me?


    The sun was shining and the birds were singing again. I could do this. Even though I was still up shit creek without a paddle, it didn''t seem so bad. I could get myself out of the forest.


    I continued down the road, scrambling over downed trees and branches, whistling to myself to pass the time. Step by step, making my way to safety. I counted my steps trying to measure distance and time. I had been walking for what seemed like hours when I nearly stepped in a large puddle.


    No, not a puddle.


    I looked closer.


    It was watery blood smear, liquid red and disturbing. Just beside it, a long drag mark of a black, gelatinous substance led across the road and disappeared into the ditch. Could it have been from roadkill? I didn''t remember seeing any while I had been driving up the mountain, but that had been days ago. Could I have missed something in the road like that?


    My heartbeat picked up, pounding as if trying to escape my chest. The blood smear was curiously close to a discarded bottle of juice.


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    What in the actual...?


    I knelt down to inspect a plastic bag speckled with more of the black substance about ten feet away from the blood.


    It was a half-eaten bag of jerky.


    My eyes went wide, instantly swinging to the bushes and grass that crowded the roadside and my blood ran cold.


    "Dan?" I called out, my eyes darting from the bushes to the deep shadows in the forest.  "Dan!" Panic was setting in.


    Had I actually seen a shadow in the bushes when Dan had left? No, my eyes had to have been playing tricks on me. I had smelled something too though...and that...that was definitely my bag of jerky.


    "Christ," I whispered as I took off down the road at a dead run, my heavy pack bouncing awkwardly on my back.  I ran like the devil himself was after me. My lungs burned, my legs felt like jello, my pack began rubbing blisters on my shoulders and back, but still, I ran. And when I finally stumbled up to the front door of the camp store it was locked up tight like no one had been there in days.


    "Oh, no." I whispered. There was a good reason I had never seen a flare.


    Dan had never made it.


    I circled the building frantically calling out to anyone who might be around, but it was empty. There was a large shed nearby, also locked, and a carport with two cars in it.


    Around the back side of the camp store building there was what appeared to be living quarters. After pounding on every door and window again, I decided to break in.  I''m no thief, but my brother and I had climbed in through an unlocked window a time or two over the years. Scanning the other buildings, I spotted a five-gallon bucket and using it as a makeshift stepladder, I peered into every window I could reach. One was unlocked. Carefully as I could, I removed the screen and pulled the window open.


    "Hello?" I called into the room one more time just in case someone hadn''t heard all the pounding and yelling before.


    The house was silent, so I retrieved my pack and tossed it through the window then climbed in after it, closing the window behind me.  A dim bedroom greeted me. It didn''t appear to be one that was used often, the furniture was sparse while the bedding and decor appeared untouched. I opened the door and carefully crept down the hallway. A bathroom and second bedroom passed to my left. Both were empty but showed signs that they had been occupied recently. Dresser drawers had been pulled out and many empty hangers hung in the open closet. I continued on.


    At the other end of the long hallway sat a small entryway and a third bedroom, large and neatly arranged. It was clear that it was a woman¡¯s room by the decor and collection of perfume bottles that sat on a wide dresser.  Though the closet door was open with many empty hangers, the bed was made and everything else was tidy.


    Back in the hallway, a wide doorway opened to a great room. Kitchen cabinets were open and the dining table looked as if it had been hastily cleared. The living room was simple but cozy, the couch and overstuffed chairs all faced a large wood stove fireplace.


    It appeared that whoever had lived and worked there had left in a hurry.


    Continuing on, I reached for a light switch and flicked it. Nothing happened so I made my way into the camp store proper. The rows of refrigerators and freezers were dark so I walked behind the front desk and into the deli kitchen. The industrial freezer was closed and still cold, but it wasn''t running. Turning back to the front desk, I ran to the land line phone and yanked the handset up, carefully pressing it to my ear. Silence.


    "I''ll be damned," I muttered shaking my head a setting the phone back down. Dan had been right.


    I paled at the notion that I was now considered an apocalypse survivor...for the time being anyway, and I wracked my brain for movie and television examples of what to do in this sort of situation, but my mind was blank.


    Exhausted, hungry and afraid, I knew I wouldn''t be able to think straight until I got some food in my belly and some quality sleep.  After perusing the store, I settled down at the table for a dinner of crispy rice treats and corn chips, washed down with a blue sports drink.


    When I was finished, I wandered my new home, familiarizing myself with it. There was no television which seemed odd, but in what would have been the perfect place for a flat screen or entertainment center, sat an enormous built-in bookshelf. Hundreds of books occupied the space in neat rows and I smiled to myself. A television would be a waste anyway since there was no electricity. The kitchen was well stocked with cooking utensils and the food pantry was filled with canned and shelf stable foods. The refrigerator had been mostly emptied save for condiments and food storage containers filled with leftovers. I would have to deal with those eventually.


    As far as places that I could have been stuck went, I counted myself extremely lucky to have ended up the camp store. It was set up like a small-town mini market; a small grocery store complete with a little deli counter and grill, while hunting and fishing gear, along with ammunition, basic camping supplies and Pacific Northwest swag in the form of jackets, shirts, shot glasses, magnets, stickers and stationery occupied the back corner.


    I picked up a stout, leather journal and pen turning it over in my hands, pondering. Maybe keeping a diary would help me process the situation I had found myself in? At the bare minimum, it could help pass the time.


    Running my hands absently across the textured cover of the journal, I walked back into the living quarters and to the spare room. It didn''t feel right taking the bed that belonged to one of the people that called this place home before me. I removed my soiled clothes and changed into my sweatpants and night shirt.


    Settling onto the bed, journal in my lap, I began to write. "I just spent three days hiding in my car and I''m pretty sure that Dan is dead."


    The words poured out of me. All my fear, my confusion and wondering. When there was barely enough light to see by, I closed the journal and lay my head down. My mind whirled. I had no plan, no real survival skills, and my mom and brother were nearly one hundred miles away by road.  God, were they ok?  My heart clenched at the thought.  What would I ever do without them?  They were my life.  And what about my friends?  And DJ?


    I was very, very alone. Tears threatened again but I stubbornly refused to let them fall. Crying about my situation wouldn''t help a thing. I needed to gather supplies and make a plan to get home, but before I could do any of that, I needed to get my bearings and get some freaking shut-eye.

 Chapter 9 - Orchardville

    Melissa


    Earthquakes in the Pacific Northwest weren''t rare, on the contrary, they happened much more often than most people realized, but when Melissa was violently startled awake in the wee hours of the morning by objects in her room crashing to the floor, she knew that particular quake was going to be one for the record books.  The power had gone out the day before and had still not been restored.


    Bolting out of bed, she scrambled to her bedroom doorway and clung to the door jams.  Family photos bounced then slid off the walls and she prayed her house would remain standing.First the power outage and now an earthquake?


    "Joey!" She yelled down the hallway to her teenage son''s room.  Moments later, his door flew open and he stood, wide eyed in the doorway.  "Stay there!  Hold on to the door frame."  Thankfully, he did as he was told.  She could hear items elsewhere in the house falling, crashing.  The house groaned and she squeezed her eyes closed.  The quake rumbled on and on.  Would it ever end?  With a final heave, the house went still.  Silent, except for her ragged breathing.


    "Are you okay, Mom?" Her son called out to her, his voice shaky and groggy.


    "Yeah. Yeah, I''m ok.  Are you?"


    "Just a little shaken up," he said with a nervous chuckle.  "What the Hell?"  He looked around the dim hallway and blew out a breath taking a small step out of his doorway.


    Glass and small, broken figurines littered the floor and Melissa instantly switched to mom mode.  "Put some shoes on before you come out here and be careful of the glass."


    Joey nodded and disappeared back into his room.  Melissa did the same, pulling on her slippers and a sweatshirt. They met in the hallway and descended the stairs to inspect the damage through the rest of the house.  Books had shimmied off the shelves and table lamps lay on their sides.  Surprisingly, not much was broken.  The portraits in the hall seemed to have fared the worst and she breathed a sigh of relief.  Gathering some cleaning supplies, she made her way back up the stairs.


    "I''m really worried about Amber, Mom."  Joey said, the quiet concern in his voice broke Melissa''s heart.  She was worried sick for her daughter.  The last time Melissa had checked Amber''s location the day before, she was already well within the national forest, far from civilization in any form.  Then the power went out, somehow rendering every piece of electronics in her home and across the town completely useless.  Nothing was working, not even air wave radio.


    "I am too, but we just have to keep hoping that she''s safe up there in the mountains and will try and make her way back here as soon as she can."  Melissa tried to convince herself as much as her son with her words.  Amber was strong, independent and capable.  She always had extra food and drinks with her when she went out and she had turned her Jeep into a very comfortable temporary home over the years.  Maybe, when the power came back on, she would be able to call for help?


    Joey murmured something inaudible before going into his room to tidy what the earthquake had disturbed.  As Melissa swept up the scattered shards of glass and replaced the intact picture frames back onto the wall, her thoughts strayed to the day before.  The neighborhood was generally a safe one, but she had been shocked at how quickly some of the people that lived there had turned ugly, spouting all manner of doomsday garbage.  There was no way that could happen.  The government wasn''t secretly screwing with the people and the chances of a cyber-attack damaging the cars as well as the power grid...well, it just didn''t make sense.  Even with so many of her neighbors being supportive of each other, the few that were making waves had really upset her.


    More than that, they had made her begin to think, what if? What if this really was the end times?  She had no food stores or survival skills.  She''d been a stay-at-home mom when her ex-husband had told her that he was leaving them, that he''d had a whole other family on the east coast and was choosing them over her.  Amber was only seven years old then, little Joey was just five.  They had never seen him again.  Part of her was glad of that fact but it still rankled, almost fifteen years later, that she had been the side-chick and not even known it.  She silently hoped that he''d been flying yesterday when the power went out.  Pilots.  She''d worked hard to provide for herself and her children though, taking a course in medical transcription, and was able to work from home.  As the years wore on, she scrimped and saved, pinching pennies whenever and wherever she could, and finally, five years ago, she was able to purchase their home.


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    She pushed the gathered shards of glass into the dust pan and carefully walked to the trash to dump it.  The glass fell and she wondered how long it would take for the household trash to begin piling up if this was indeed a total, grid-down situation, like some of her neighbors believed it to be.


    Heavy footfalls sounded on the stairs and Joey appeared in his grocery store uniform.  Melissa''s eyes went wide.  "You aren''t going in to work today, are you?"


    "Yeah, the manager said that we would open for cash only purchases if the power was still out."


    "I don''t think that''s a good idea, Hon."  She started but Joey brushed her off.


    "It''s fine, Ma.  If I get there and it''s crazy, I''ll come back home.  I should probably get some food while I''m there, just in case."


    We just made a Costco run, we''ve got plenty," She sighed, pressing fingertips to forehead.  She didn''t know why she wasted her breath sometimes.  That boy would simply do whatever it was that he wanted to do and there was nothing that she could do about it.  "Be safe, damn it.  And if you aren''t home by 3 o''clock, I''m coming down there to get you."


    Joey rolled his eyes and pulled open the garage door.  "I''ll be fine."


    She followed him into the garage.  "Don''t take any chances...with anything, Joey.  I mean it."


    He disconnected the automatic garage door opener and pulled the heavy door open by hand.  "You should keep the doors locked while I''m gone, just in case.  And lock this behind me."  He said pointing at the large garage door.  He pulled his old BMX bike down off the hook that it was hanging from and set it on the floor.  "I''ll be back this afternoon."


    He hadn''t ridden that old thing since he saved up enough money to buy that ridiculous car of his, and Melissa smiled to herself at how young he still looked swinging a leg over it.  How he had always wanted to follow his big sister around when they were young.  It didn''t matter where Amber had gone, Joey had been her little shadow.  They were such good friends and hardly fought, one taking the heat for the other when they had been caught doing something they knew they weren''t supposed to be doing.  He was a good kid.  They were both great kids. It still baffled her that they were so grown.  She''d had Amber and was expecting Joey when she was just Amber''s age.


    As Joey pedaled away down the driveway, she tried to ignore the sick feeling in her gut.  "Bring back a big bag of  seasalt!"  She called out to him and he raised his hand in silent acknowledgement.   Once he was out of sight, she closed the garage door, twisted its manual lock and returned to the kitchen.


    Opening the freezer, she found the meat was still frozen but thawing out quickly.  If the power didn''t come back on in a day or so, the meat would go bad.  Turning to the pantry, she pulled the door open and reached for a tattered cookbook.  It had been her grandmother''s and then her own mother''s after, both of the older women''s distinct handwriting littered the pages, altering and improving the recipes within.  She flipped to the back section, looking for the pages on canning.  It was a dying art, but her mother had canned jam every summer when she was alive, and along with this cookbook, Melissa had inherited all her mother''s canning supplies after she had passed on.  Now, it seemed they might finally come in handy.


    The book held instructions for drying and salt curing meat as well, and she hugged the book to her chest.  "God, I hope this isn''t where we''re heading." She whispered to the silent room.


    ************************


    Just after noon, Joey returned from the grocery store rattling a shopping cart along beside his bike.  She''d heard the racket from the cart all the way back in the kitchen and sprinted to the front door to see what all the noise was.  The cart was full of canned food, rice, flour, sugar, yeast, coffee, more canning jars, pectin, dry goods and the like.  Melissa gaped at him.  How had he known what to bring home?  As he neared, she realized that his uniform was torn and he had small, red marks on his hands, arms and face.


    "What happened?"  She cried out, running to meet him at the bottom of the driveway.  She grabbed the handle of the cart and together, they pushed it toward the garage door.


    "It''s bad out there, Ma.  Mrs. Nancy, from around the corner was there trying to buy supplies.  You know she''s old, people were just pulling things out of her cart and pushing her out of the way.  I helped her get what she needed and get out of the store. She told me what stuff to take and to get home.  So I ditched my apron and ran back in.  I grabbed all that I could.  She even told me to get antibacterial handsoap, vitamins, cold medicine, and pain relievers.  That''s all in the bottom."  He panted.  "When I left, people were just coming in and taking everything they could get their hands on."


    "Jesus."  Melissa paled visibly at his words.  "Let''s get you inside.  Are you ok?"


    "Yeah, I''m good.  Just tired."


    Melissa ran back up to the front door and through the house cursing as she went.  She quickly entered the garage from inside and absently pressed the garage door opener.She swore as she continued forward to the large, roll-up door, cranked the lock open, grasped the handle and hauled it upwards.  Joey rolled the grocery cart and then his bike into the safety of the garage, then closed and locked the large door behind him.


    "What a nightmare." He breathed, shoulders sagging.


    Melissa wrapped her son in a tight hug fighting tears.  Pulling back, she held his face in her hands, looking up at him.  "Are you sure you''re alright?"


    "I''m gonna have some bruises, but I''m fine, I promise."


    She ran her hands over his face and down his arms, looking for any sign of serious injury then hugged him tightly again.


    Joey groaned impatiently, "Ma.  I''m fine."


    Melissa''s heart pounded behind her ribs.  What if he''d been hurt badly?  What would she do if he had not come home?  She shook her head and finally let him go.  Best to not think about those sorts of things.  He was home and safe now.


    Together, they emptied the shopping cart and prepared to preserve what perishable food they had.

 Chapter 10 - Settling In

    I awoke the next morning to the sound of distant gunfire shattering the silence. upright, I ran to the front doors of the store and peered out the window.The small parking lot was empty and the foggy mist hung low in the conifers, their tops seeming to disappear into the clouds.The sky was dark with the thick clouds and I absently wondered what time it was.Glancing around the store, I found a small, analog clock hanging on the wall behind the register.It was just after 10 o''clock, I''d slept much later than I had meant to.Several more shots in quick succession rang out and my heart thundered in my ears.Where was the sound coming from?


    Unable to open the store doors, I wound my way through the building to the rear of the house, where a regular, residential door separated me from the outdoors.I unlocked the deadbolt and twisted the brass doorknob in my hand.The door opened easily and I was greeted with the sweet smells of mountain air and rain as I stepped out on to the small, covered patio.


    Tip toeing to the edge of the concrete pad, I peered around the side of the building, toward the parking lot.The narrow road disappeared into the mist and I strained my eyes to try and see into the shadows.More shots rang out in quick succession followed by deafening silence.It sounded like they were coming from the north.


    I darted inside and back to the store, looking at the magazine rack for a paper map.I snatched one out of its slot and sank to the floor, opening it up.Quickly scanning the map, I found the chain of reservoirs I''d driven past, then followed the road to where it crossed over the river.The bridge was less than a mile down the road from the camp store.I placed my finger on my approximate location then retraced the road back the way I had driven just a few days prior.There was no town within twenty miles.Frustrated, I followed the road in the opposite direction, The closest town that direction was even further away.But the shots had been coming from the north, and the road that the camp store ran generally east-west.


    Running my finger due north from my location, my finger ran across the town of Riverside.Of course!  There was a scenic overlook not too far from here that looked out over the picturesque, old-timey town nestled into the wide, lush river valley. Following the main road that ran through town with my finger, I found that even though the town appeared to be close, possibly only two miles as the crow flies, the only road leading there was probably more than five miles from the camp store.


    More gunshots rang out and my stomach clenched.


    There are only nine meals between peace and anarchy.  Dan''s words echoed through my mind.I knew that my family only had about a week''s worth of food in the house at any given time, and assuming most families were like my own, people would be starting to run low on supplies any day now.Were the people in Riverside fighting amongst themselves already?


    Frustrated and worried, I stood in a huff, leaving the map on the floor and marched back to the room I had slept in.I dressed quickly and filled my pack with food from the store.Throwing the heavy bag over my shoulders, I marched to the back door and threw it open.Breathing deep, I grappled with the thought that I was going to walk all the way back home to Orchardville, but I knew the way by road like I knew the lines of my own face.I closed the door behind myself and started walking.


    The gravel of the parking lot crunched under my feet sounding loud in my ears compared to the silent, dripping forest that surrounded me.When my feet hit the pavement of the road, I paused, suddenly feeling uneasy about my rash decision to leave the store, but I forced my feet forward.The air was deathly still and the sense of unease grew in the pit of my stomach as I looked back toward the camp store growing smaller behind me with each step.


    Even in the rain, the forest normally sang; the birds, wind, rivers and trees all harmonizing to create the forest melody I loved so much, but as I marched down the road, the only thing I could hear was the steady squish of my shoes on the wet asphalt.


    An unearthly shriek shattered the silence and I whirled.It had come from the forest behind me.Every hair on my head felt like it was standing on end as my eyes frantically scanned the bushes.A twig snapping pulled my attention to the leafless underbrush to my right and I froze in terror.My breath hissed too loudly in my ears and I willed my frantic heart to slow so that I could listen more closely.I turned in a slow circle, muscles tense, ready to flee.More crashing sounded to my right and I forced my feet to start moving back to the safety of the camp store.


    At the sharp sound of another crash, a deer leapt from the forest fifty paces ahead of me, crossing the road in a single bound and I sagged in relief.


    "Just a deer," I leaned forward, placing my hands on my knees and laughed shakily.


    Never in my life had a deer scared me like that.I stood back up and rubbed my face as I started walking again.A deer crashing through the woods was not going to scare me off.


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    More crashing sounded to my right and three more deer burst from the cover of the forest in a rush.Being closer to them than I was to the first deer, I could see their eyes when they crossed the road, wide with fear and ringed with white.Their ears pointed back, tails in the air.Something was hunting them.


    That realization sent me scurrying backward toward the camp store again but the sound of a strangled cry cut the air, freezing my movement mid-step.


    Another deer struggled at the edge of the road, only its head and front-end visible.  It cried out again, its warm breath rising into the chill air.  Once more, the strangled sound cut the air before something violently pulled it back into the shadows of the forest.  That haunting sound was cut terrifyingly short, and a low rumbling hiss rose out of the forest in its wake.


    I turned and bolted for the camp store.


    Even though I knew running from whatever predator could have made that noise was probably the stupidest thing I could have done.I tore back through the gravel lot and around the back of the building to the patio.Huffing and puffing, I charged through the door, closing and locking it behind me.I sank to the floor and slowly, my huffing breaths morphed into sobs.


    I let the tears fall, curling my knees to my chest.Gasping, snotty, drooling, I let myself go.I cried for Dan, cried for myself, cried for my mom and brother.I cried for the helplessness I felt, for being stranded, for not knowing what to do, for whatever terror was stalking the forests.I cried because I knew I was stuck and I truly didn''t know how to take care of myself.I cried because, in that moment, I knew that nothing was ever going to be okay again.


    ***


    Eventually, I stripped off my shoes and made my way back to the bed.I lay down and continued to let the tears fall, but I wasn''t as hysterical as I had been sitting with my back to the door.Still, it felt like I was trapped in a nightmare that I couldn''t wake from.How had I been so unlucky?To be going through this all alone.I wanted to be home.Safe.With my mom and brother.Or even sharing a drink with DJ like a normal, twenty-two-year-old...like I had said I would just a few days ago.


    After what seemed like hours, I knew that I could not wallow in my own self-pity forever, so I pulled myself up off the bed and went in search of food, stopping in the bathroom on my way.The sink had been plugged and was filled with water, and there was a five-gallon bucket in the shower, also full of water.Canting my head to one side, I wondered why, but I turned to the toilet to relieve myself anyway.As I pressed the lever down, the toilet flushed but did not fill back up. Puzzled, I lifted the lid off the tank.It was empty.I jiggled the handle hoping that would help.When it didn''t, realization dawned.I retrieved the bucket from the shower and filled the tank with it.I pressed the lever again to check my theory.It worked!But how had the bucket been filled?If the toilet wouldn''t fill, then that meant there was no running water.I cranked the shower faucet to check.No water pressure.


    Pursing my lips, I stood to look outside the small bathroom window.Not twenty feet from the back patio, there stood a cast iron hand pump.I humphed and crossed my arms across my chest.Not as easy as turning on a faucet, but at least I had easy access to fresh water.I would have to learn quickly to do without modern conveniences.I refilled the bucket and placed it back in the bathtub before finally going in search of food.


    When I got to the kitchen, I paused.How was I supposed to cook?Walking to the stove, I sighed in relief.It was gas, not electric like the stove we had at home.I had run out of fuel for my jet boil the day before I left the Jeep and rather than waste space in my pack with equipment that I couldn''t use, I had left it behind.


    I rummaged through the pantry and found a can of chili.Dumping it into a small pot, I set it on the stove and cranked on the gas.Nothing happened.


    "No," I sighed, cranking the knob back to the off position.My shoulders sagged and my head fell forward."I just need a break," I said through gritted teeth.


    The smell of propane filled my nostrils and I brightened.The gas was flowing, but the electric igniter didn''t work.


    Pulling drawers open, I searched for matches or a lighter."Come on, I know you guys kept a junk drawer somewhere."


    Finally, I pulled open a drawer filled with random nic-knacks.Shuffling the contents around, I found random bits of paper, a pad of sticky notes, loose batteries of all different sizes, a tiny box of birthday candles, screwdrivers, allen wrenches and a mini flashlight.Finally, I spotted a box of long handled stick matches and pulled them out.The stove lit easily and I warmed my meal.


    As I stirred the chili, I began going over how I was going to be able to survive here.The store was filled with food, sure, but I couldn''t live on what was in the building forever.Eventually, I was going to have to venture out.I couldn''t stay there at the camp store forever.I needed to make a plan, see what resources I had here, gather supplies.


    I ate the chili right out of the pot while standing at the stove, staring into nothingness, feeling overwhelmed.When I was finished, I set the pan in the sink and turned the faucet on out of habit.I groaned and took the pot to the back door.I slipped my shoes on and quietly shuffled toward the hand pump.It was getting dark outside and my stomach knotted remembering the deer.When I had refilled the bucket earlier, I hadn''t felt anything was amiss, but now, as I placed my hand on the pump, I could have sworn that something was watching me.The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and my eyes flicked to the shadows between the trees.I lifted the handle and pressed down again, the water flowed from the well and into the dirty pot.I shivered and turned quickly back to the house.I couldn''t see anything, but my gut told me there was  definitely something out there, crouched out beyond the treeline.I closed the door and locked it behind me.


    After washing and drying the pot, I made my way to the bookshelf in the living room.The daylight was fading fast and it was getting hard to read the spines of the books.Heading back to the junk drawer, I found the mini flashlight and turned it on.Back at the shelf, I quickly scanned the titles, settling on a well-worn romance novel.I would have normally preferred sci-fi or fantasy, but with everything going on, I felt like something a bit less harrowing was in order.


    I settled on the couch and shivered.A fire sure would have felt nice but there was no way I was going outside in the growing dark to bring in firewood.That would be a chore for tomorrow.Instead, I pulled the thick blanket draped over the back of the couch down over my legs and tried to settle in but, I couldn''t focus. I got up and went to my room.


    I wondered for a moment about why I had thought of the guest bedroom as my room but then brushed the thought away and picked up my journal and a pen.

 Chapter 11 - An Ounce of Prevention is Worth a Pound of Cure

    I awoke the next morning and dragged myself out of bed.  As I made myself some instant oatmeal, curtesy of the camp store, I decided that since I was going to be here for a little while, I should probably start poking around the out-buildings to see if there was anything I could use to make my life easier for the time being.


    I dressed and stepped quietly outside, listening hard for anything that sounded out of the ordinary.  After a few tense moments, I took a deep breath and walked toward the tool shed.


    My steps sounded loud in my ears and I considered going back inside, but I stuck my chin out and kept walking.  I would never make it back home if I didn''t suck it up and get to work, but the deer incident from the day before sat heavy in my chest.  The fact was that the forest was full of animals, and some of those animals could very well kill me if they wanted to, but I had a stash of bear spray and a good selection of hunting knives at my disposal, again, curtesy of the camp store.  Worried as I was about being outside, I didn''t have any deep gut feelings telling me that it wasn''t safe, so I marched up to the door of the shed.


    It was locked.  Of course it was locked.  Would nothing be just easy here?  I sighed and looked around for something to use to pry the lock with.


    My mind immediately went to the junk drawer.   I went in and retrieved a flathead screwdriver and a pair of pliers and got to work.  Twenty minutes later I was no closer to getting the lock open and the only thing I had to show for all the work was bent metal.  I jammed the screwdriver behind the lever and yanked on it as hard as I could out of pure frustration.  The screwdriver slipped out of my grasp and I raked my hand down across the jagged metal.  I gasped at the sudden pain and glanced at my palm.  It didn''t bleed at first, probably because my hands were so cold, and I stared in shock at a deep gash, about three inches long, that ran from the base of my pointer finger diagonally across my left palm.  The blood began to well up and I rushed to the water pump to rinse it.


    After several minutes of washing, it was still bleeding freely, so I went back into the house and scrounged up some first aid supplies.  Sitting down at the table, I soaked my hand in a wound wash solution then tried with shaky hands to close the cut with butterfly bandages.  They wouldn''t stick.


    I needed stitches, not an adhesive bandage.  I huffed and tried not to let my frustrated tears fall.  I needed to think!


    The solution came to me in the form of fuzzy memories from a television show I had watched on summer break my sophomore year.  A man had closed a cut on his arm with superglue so the zombies he was trying to escape from wouldn''t be able to smell his blood.  I laughed bitterly to myself at the thought of even trying such a thing but I didn''t have a choice.


    Retrieving a new tube of superglue from the camp store, I returned to the kitchen table and struggled to open the package one handed.  When it was finally open, I held the thin dropper over my palm.  I lightly cupped my injured hand to close the wound, then squeezed several drops of glue onto the cut.


    It could have been liquid fire for all that it scorched into the wound, and I hissed, then blew on it, hoping it would dry faster.  My palm throbbed and the sharp scent of the glue filled the room.


    "Jesus Christ."  My voice grated through clenched teeth.


    After a few minutes, I gingerly opened my palm.  The glue held and I breathed a sigh of relief hoping that it wouldn''t get infected.  I placed a non-stick gauze pad across my palm and taped it down, then carefully wrapped my entire hand with an elastic bandage.


    Rather than continuing the struggle with the shed lock, I went in search of wood for the fireplace.  Temperatures hovered just above freezing at night making mornings uncomfortably chilly, even in the house. Behind the carport, under the low eave, I found a large stock of split wood and after a bit more searching, I scrounged up a battered wheelbarrow. I filled it to nearly overflowing then struggled to roll it to the back patio.


    By the time I finished with that task, it was well after noon and I cursed inwardly at how much more time it took me to accomplish such an easy task simply because I had injured myself doing something stupid.  I would have to be more careful in the future.  I couldn''t afford to hurt myself again.  One wrong move could literally get me killed out here all alone.  I decided to rest for the remainder of the day and take the time to warm the house up.


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    After having been cold for so many days, as the wood stove began chasing the chill out of the air, I melted into the couch and sighed.  My hand still hurt like the devil but I had a belly full of hot soup and a warm fire to relax by.  Within minutes, my eyelids fluttered closed and I didn''t wake until dawn.


    When I pulled myself up off the fluffy couch, I decided that it was going to be a productive and safe day.  No injuries, no frustration.  Think smart, act smart.


    First, I needed something bigger to pry the latch off the tool shed and the first thing my clear, well rested brain thought up was a crowbar.  There were none laying around, so I investigated one of the two cars parked under the carport.  The keys were inside on the seat.  It was a sedan that looked straight out of the 80''s with a front bench seat, ash trays in every door, and a cracking vinyl top.  Just to be sure, I tried to start it.  Nothing happened, so I took the keys and opened the trunk.  Removing the spare tire, I pulled out the tire iron and hefted it in my hand.  It would do perfectly.


    Back at the shed door, with a better tool in hand, I had the latch pried off in a matter of minutes and swung the door open.  The shed was filled with hand and gardening tools, lawn equipment and loads of things I had no idea how to use.  While rummaging around through one of many metal toolboxes, I found a magnetic hide-a-key box with three keys inside.  Scurrying to the back door, I tried one that looked like a house key.  It unlatched the deadbolt.  The other key was stamped ''MASTER ¨C Do Not Duplicate'', so I knew that had to belong to the front, camp store doors.  The last key fit the heavy basement door.


    I carefully opened it and it groaned on its hinges.  Rickety wooden steps appeared to descend into a black pit and I swallowed thickly.


    Everyone has an irrational fear of basements, right?  I thought to myself while I stood, paralyzed at the entrance staring into the darkness.


    Turning on my heel, I went back into the house and slid my new prizes onto the keychain with my own house keys.  My lips curled slightly with the ghost of a smile.  I suddenly felt a lot less like a squatter.  Leaving my bundle of keys hanging on a hook beside the back door, I grabbed my flashlight then returned to the basement door.


    "You can do this.  There''s probably nothing down there but dust and cobwebs."  I gave myself a short pep talk before placing my foot on the first step.


    It creaked as I settled my weight on it but the step was solid, so I continued down the stairs.  At the bottom, I scanned the room with the flashlight.  It was a cavernous space, and despite all the dust and cobwebs, it was extremely well organized.  Shelving filled more than half the space making isles of a sort.  The shelves were filled with boxes of what appeared to be back-stock for the store.  The other part of the space looked to be filled with neatly arranged personal items.  Large furniture pieces, boxes of clothes and miscellaneous household items and seasonal decorations.


    In a wide space toward the middle of the basement sat a home gym that looked like it came straight out of the 80''s.  A wooden crate was sat just beside the weight bench, looking very out of place.  My curiosity piqued; I began making my way over to it when an old camping lantern caught my eye.  Now that could be useful.


    I detoured and lifted the lantern off the shelf to inspect it.  It appeared to be operational, so I leaned in to see what else was on that shelf.  Several older tents, sleeping bags and outdoor gear greeted my eager eyes.  I almost cheered when I found a camp stove with a set of cast iron cookware beside it and plenty of those little green propane tanks.  I knew that however much propane was left in the giant white tank by the carport wouldn''t last forever and this camp stove could help stretch that out for a bit longer while I learned how to cook outdoors over a fire.


    I shook myself a bit.  I needed to get home, not get settled and completely comfortable here.  But, still, the set of cast iron cookware deserved to be in the kitchen.  It was all my mom cooked with for years and I knew if I used these, it would make me feel closer to her in a way.


    Glancing around quickly, I spotted an empty plastic storage tote and filled it with a couple of pieces of the cookware, the camp stove and the lantern.  Tiny flashlight in my mouth, I hefted the tote with a grunt and awkwardly moved it to the open space near the home gym.  I knew I would have a hard time lifting it back up off the floor, so I waddled to the weight bench, hoping I wouldn''t trip over anything, and set it down heavily.  Dust curled up in the beam of the flashlight as I removed it from my mouth and glanced down.


    Something had been written in the dust on the weight bench.


    "Damn-it."  I whispered to myself.  Having had no contact with anyone in a week, I was getting desperate for some type of communication.


    I lifted the tote once again and peered down at the bench.  The center of whatever had been written had been smudged away by the tote, but on either side of the smeared square of dust that it left behind, I could make out a handful of letters.


    "Be sa¡ª ¡ªroy."  I looked at it puzzled.


    It could have said anything.  But who had written it and when?  It looked to be fairly recent.  Even with the dust that I had stirred up when I set the tote down, the rest of the letters looked fairly fresh.  Could it have been from the people who called this place home?


    I sighed and set the tote back down on the bench.  Whatever it had said was lost.


    I decided that I would come back down to take a closer look at the basement later on, but what I really needed was some food.


    After cleaning and oiling the cast iron cookware, I placed all the items in the oven and baked them, wondering what Mom would say if she could see me.  I quickly heated another can of soup on the stovetop and carried the pan with me to the bookshelf, slurping the hot broth out of a giant wooden spoon.


    As I perused the shelf again, my eyes passed over a book about Pacific Northwest wild edibles.  Right beside it was a tall, hardcover book with no title on its spine.  Sitting the spoon back into the pot, I gingerly reached out with my injured hand and wiggled the book off the shelf.  In worn, gold print, the cover read Primitive Survival.  I tossed it and the wild edibles book on the couch to read later.  Even if I didn''t stay here at the camp store, the contents of those books could be pivotal.  I knew nothing about surviving for extended periods without power or infrastructure of any sort and I hoped that those books could help me out.  Only time would tell.


    After finishing my food and cleaning the dishes, I sat down to read and learn while I waited for my cast iron pans to finish baking.