Chapter 5 Cam #2
Twice, Cam killed ruffed grouse for dinner in the woods.
Both times, he came upon the foolish birds drumming on fallen logs and killed them with a well-placed stone from his slingshot.
He was happy that animals were becoming more plentiful again, so hunting yielded results.
Many had starved in the first years after the asteroid, when ash fall coated the land and plants hadn’t grown well.
Food had been scarce for everyone, animals and people alike.
If his watcher was hungry, the aroma of roasted meat might flush her out.
Still, she hadn’t looked starving. Though they’d only met once, he couldn’t get her image out of his head, and her beautiful amber eyes haunted his thoughts.
One afternoon while fishing, a heavy splash upriver made him wonder if he had company, but when he cautiously investigated, the riverbank remained empty. Maybe the noise had just been a deer or a large bird.
Despite his efforts to find her, the woman remained elusive.
He gave up on finding her and headed toward the bluffs.
On the way back to his camp, he took an alternative route and stumbled across a thick bank of shoulder-high bushes with a few remaining late-season elderberries.
He popped a few of the sun-warmed berries into his mouth. Delicious.
He was stripping fruit from the bushes when an angry grunt sounded.
Cam whirled around and stepped back, stumbling into the shrubbery.
His heart hammered. Shit. A massive black bear had ambled up behind him.
Cam took a slow, deep breath, trying to remain calm despite his racing heart.
This time of year, a lone bear wasn’t usually a threat.
The ursine also must have come for the berries.
The animal appeared summer-fat and healthy, with shiny blue-black fur.
It grunted again and half-stood on its hind legs, its head shaking.
“They’re all yours.” Cam backed away, following the ridge of bushes until he could no longer see the bear. Nothing crackled behind him, so his pulse slowed. Once he determined he hadn’t been followed, he sped up, moving toward his camp with haste.
That night, something woke him. At first, he couldn’t place what had brought him back to consciousness.
He sat up, unable to see in the pitch black, while snuffling sounds in his campsite came through the thin walls of his tent.
Without needing to see, he picked up his rifle and waited.
With his heart drumming against his ribs, he cocked the hammer.
Nearby rocks clacked together, and fallen logs were lifted, then dropped with a splintering crash.
He regulated his breathing. A bear—perhaps the one he’d run across earlier—likely searching for grubs. It shouldn’t be a danger.
His food supply was safe, suspended between trees.
Good thing he didn’t keep it in the tent like an amateur.
Lewis had taught him to be safe, not sorry.
Soon, the bear moved on, crashing through the bushes without regard for trails as it wandered, king of the nighttime forest. Cam lay back, trying to return to sleep.
The yipping coyotes seemed closer tonight, their voices carried on the wind.
Though cloudier than the previous nights, gusts rustled the tent with sharp flapping sounds.
It was hours before he drifted back to sleep.
After lying awake half the night, he slept in the next morning.
When he emerged from his tent, the ground had a skiff of snow instead of frost. He inhaled as he stretched, cold air filling his lungs.
The weather has shifted suddenly, and the chill hinted at more snow to come.
Gray and white clouds swirled overhead while thicker charcoal ones flowed in from the west. The light held an odd yellowish haze—a storm was brewing.
Cam exhaled deeply, his breath pluming white while he tried to decide whether he should head back toward xTerra or hole up.
He’d stay in the old fort, but the new locks gave him pause.
Someone could be planning to return at any point.
Maybe he should head home. Still, with sixty miles to travel, it was too far to beat the nasty weather.
Once winter hit, repeated storms would make getting home difficult, and his tent wouldn’t provide much protection.
Too bad he hadn’t brought snowshoes for the return journey.
Perhaps a massive oversight.
He glanced uneasily at the trees, their sparse leaves and branches swaying. The chill wind bit his skin, piercing through his fleece. He dug out his winter jacket and put it on, reaching a decision. Even this campsite wasn’t protected enough if an extreme storm hit. He needed to relocate.
He had a destination in mind, one where he could wait out the current inclement weather and decide what to do after.
He and Lewis had run across a deserted cabin in the woods years ago.
He vaguely recalled its location. Digging out his map, he guessed where the structure should be located.
Provided he could find it, that’s where he’d stay.
Cam ate, packed, dismantled his camp, and left with a final glance at the fast-approaching dark clouds.
After a late start, by the time he was underway, it was already mid-morning.
His business here didn’t quite seem finished, not without information about his mystery woman.
Something about her tugged at his heart.
It had been so long since he’d been attracted to anyone.
He would search for her one more time on the way out.
He headed north along the edge of the bluff, striking inland where it curved in the wrong direction.
Cam’s progress was slow, and the snow-covered ground slippery. Twice he stumbled, scrambling down an incline, the ground sandy and crumbling beneath his feet. Overhead, the clouds rolled in, thick and black, obscuring much of the pale sun’s light, making both visibility and navigation difficult.
He checked his compass and adjusted his course.
After over an hour, he emerged from a thick section of forest near an overgrown gravel road, the rocky path on the steep incline barely discernible from the nearby wooded hillside in the faded light.
He frowned because he hadn’t seen a road on the map.
He spun, searching for a familiar landmark.
Nothing in this section of the hills seemed familiar.
Perhaps he’d stumbled across the cabin’s driveway from a different angle. He turned and headed up the slope, following the track to a gap in the trees.
In the open, the wind whistled, cold, brutal gusts that made him wish he’d left for home sooner.
Still, there had been no sign of inclement weather when he’d been fishing.
He’d enjoyed basking in the late autumn sunshine by the river just a day ago.
But his luck had run out. The storm clouds arrived overhead.
Snowflakes fell, thick and white—drifting lazily at first, then heavier, whipping and swirling with the wind.
His chest grew tight. Dammit. He had definitely missed his travel window.
This didn’t feel like just a flurry, but a blizzard in the making.
He needed to find shelter soon to wait out this storm, or he might wander the hills for hours.
Or freeze to death.
Cam sighed. Best not to get ahead of himself or panic.
He just needed to find shelter. If he was lucky, this was just an early-season flurry, not the onset of winter, and he could travel home as soon as the storm passed.
He adjusted his beanie and zipped his jacket higher as he trudged, keeping a swift pace to stay warm.
The wind rushed at his back, seeming to blow through him, even with the thicker coat, icy cold and biting.
In these conditions, the trek across the plains to xTerra would be miserable.
He trudged uphill, increasing his speed even more—pushing his pace despite the slippery ground.
He couldn’t pay attention to his surroundings, other than his footing, as the storm whited out everything further than twenty feet away.
Partway up the slope, he stopped for a breather and a quick drink from his canteen.
He turned around, still searching for something familiar, only to see snow and trees.
Cam exhaled. He might not find the cabin after all.
At the top of the rise, the road forked, each branch disappearing into the faded gloom. Though only approaching noon, the sky had become an impenetrable blanket.
As he deliberated, the wind lulled and flakes of snow fell, twirling from the sky on their own, adding to the layer already accumulated. He checked his map again in the shelter of a thick pine. The snowflakes thickened, swirling with the wind as it resumed.
He examined the fork in the road. Left or right? He chose right. Soon after, the falling snow changed again, becoming icy pellets that stung his face. He raised his scarf and forged on as the snowstorm became a blizzard.
The band of tension around his chest grew with the worsening conditions, increasing his sense of urgency. He needed to get out of this weather. Soon. He worried that he might have gone too far and missed the cabin completely.
Once, a distinctive waft of smoke came to him, but the wind whipped it away before he could confirm its direction of origin.
There was a fire out here somewhere, but he had no way of knowing where.
He might pass only yards from shelter since he couldn’t see.
He adjusted his backpack to redistribute the weight, then turned off the road into the surrounding trees, where they broke some of the wind, allowing him to catch his breath.