He paused in the shade of the tree. It was a scorching hot day. The kind where the sun evaporates the sweat as soon as it forms. The shade was a nice respite. Looking around, he spied a little stream making it's merry way a short distance off under the canopy of the forest. It seemed the idea place to take a break. His stomach rumbled it's agreement, and sealed the deal. He would stop and eat.
As he sat his pack down, he looked around. The shade prevented a lot of undergrowth from growing, but not everything. Small pockets of ferns dotted the area, and thick, mossy grass lined the edges of the stream. It was a clear stream, and seemed to be of good enough quality, he bent down to take a drink. The water was cool to the tongue, and quite nice on such a hot day. He settled himself against the tree, and removed his boots. It seemed a good idea to air out his feet while he had a chance. Sweating in boots was just as bad as walking through water. Sweat could soak socks just as quickly. Wet socks brought blisters, and blisters would hinder his progress.
Pulling his meager lunch from his pack, he leaned against the tree behind him and thought about his progress, where he was going and why. Life hadn't always been like this for him. Once he had everything that anyone could have wanted. A great job, a beautiful wife, an inquisitive son, all things he could have ever wanted. His life was one of happiness and fulfillment.
But it all ended in a flash of light. Literally. A flash of solar light. That was all it took to end the world.
He looked around, examining his surroundings. He hadn't seen many people since that day, but the ones he had seen made him very, very wary. Not seeing anything amiss, he settled back down. The end of world hadn't been anything like anyone thought. There was no big nuclear explosion, no nuclear fallout. No country to dominate the world, no USA, no China. There was no world-wide catastrophe, just plain human laziness and greed. We never thought about what the sun could do to us. We were more worried with fighting amongst ourselves. The solar wave destroyed all satellites, all means of communication, all sources of electricity. If it was connected by a wire, it exploded. The fires raced through cities that had no way of fighting them. People were stuck in buildings with no means of escape. Cars lost control and crashed into one another. It was mass chaos.
As he had traveled, he learned that even small towns were affected. Not just cities. With no power, no way to keeping food fresh, people started starving, and fighting for what food was left. The desperate ones sort of lost their humanity. They would attack the weak and old to survive. Those who had weapons fought as long as they could, but there are only so many bullets in a gun, and too many people who want what you have sometimes. He thought about how lucky he had been. Having grown up in small town USA, he knew how to survive of the land. And he had no trouble walking. When it all happened, he had been traveling home to parents on his way to see her. It was going to be the weekend he proposed to her, and asked her to come back to the city with him. They were supposed to be going camping. He had all the gear loaded. As the fires raged, and people started panicking, he just grabbed his gear and headed out.
Weeks later, he found himself here. He had yet to fire his pistol in his own defense, but there were several close calls. It hadn't taken him long to realize that major thoroughfares were not the place a person traveling wanted to be. Desperate people will try anything. He had followed the interstate at first, thinking that it's straight route would get him there quicker. And at first it had. Then he had come upon the scene of a brutal gang-rape. Her screams could be heard for nearly a mile. He had slipped into the woods beside the interstate, not wanting to be involved, not knowing how many were involved. He saw a group of men, horses nearby, doing unspeakable things to a family. The only merciful thing they did was shoot the father before he saw too much. He knew the women would soon wish for the same fate, a fate they wouldn't have. Not wanting to be caught by people such as this, he moved on as stealthily as he could. It hurt him that he didn't do more to help the people, but his own survival was paramount to him at this point. There was nothing he could have done for them that didn't involve him dying.
Soon after that, he switched to smaller highways, then to less populated back roads. The highways kept bringing him to towns and villages where marauders kept bases. After finding a treasure trove of food at an empty home, he avoided these vague memories of civilization, preferring the solitude of the back road. He slept way of the road at night, usually as close to running water as possible. Fires were small and quickly put out to avoid detection. He suffered bites and stings from pests until he found some bushes that kept them away. He kept as many of leaves as he could and would rub them on himself from time to time to keep the scent fresh. He was sure he didn't smell that great, but then no one was around to complain either.
Navigating with an old map, and a compass, he had traversed most of the way to his parents home. What usually only took him two hours had taken nearly two months. And to reach her, he still had months more to go. He only hoped that he could gain a horse at his parents. They raised cattle, and God-willing, would be in a position to help him.He just had one last obstacle to tackle, then he could finish out the last ten miles before dark. But that obstacle wasn't a little one.
A group of bandits had set up a toll bridge on what was once the bridge spanning a large creek. He knew he could get around them, he had waded many creeks, and swam one river, but they had obviously had that problem before, as they were patrolling the river in boats. He had watched them for a while, observing the situation, plotting out his course. Charging over was out of the question, he didn't have enough bullets or a way to get away other than run. Swimming across here would be perilous, but he knew a place upriver where they had once swam. If he could avoid them, he could travel far enough upriver that he might be able to avoid them all together. But to get anywhere in that direction, he would have to cross an open field. One that they were guarding. The bandits had thought this situation out quite well.
And so he sat in the shade and ate his lunch pondering. So close and yet so far away.
(to be continued...)
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