CME Apocalypse Fiction

by Blaze Eastwood

  Curious, he moved closer until he was only ten meters away.

  A set of antlers came into view, and Bryce saw that the prey was a deer. He was almost certain that the shrieking sound had come from a human, though. Had the human fled? Was there ever a human there to begin with?

  Being isolated in the wilderness was already taking its toll on him.

  Initially, it surprised Bryce that a swift animal like a deer could allow itself to be caught by a bear. Then it occurred to him that the deer was likely already injured by the time the bear attacked.

  The bear raised its head and looked in Bryce's direction, sniffing the air. At first, it just stared, as if it sensed something. Then it took a few steps toward the human intruder, tilting its large head slightly to the side.

  Bryce knew he had been spotted by the large animal, but for now, he remained frozen, just in case he was wrong.

  He stood still behind a large tree. The stump was large enough to conceal him, but maybe the bear could smell that he was there.

  It stood on its hind legs and roared ferociously, its large tongue hanging out of its open jaw.

  Bryce immediately began walking backwards, not taking his eyes off of the dangerous animal. He was now out in the open, clearly visible to the bear.

  Wincing in pain, the deer moved slowly, struggling to get up from the ground. The movement had alerted the bear, catching the corner of his eye.

  Not wanting to lose its captured prey, the bear brought its attention back to the deer. It gave a loud bellow, then raised its right claw, and brought it down swiftly.

  The deer took its last breath, then stopped moving.

  Bryce was still within close proximity to the bear. He stood still and watched for a moment, almost jealous that the bear had found food for itself. Then he turned and hurried away, into the wintry wilderness beyond.

  Chapter Eight

  Exhausted, Bryce sat down on the ground, and sank into the snow, trying to catch his breath. It seemed like weeks since he had fled the crashed plane and became stranded in the wintry Alaskan wilderness.

  His ankles were now growing numb from continuously walking through the knee-high snow. He bit into another icicle, hoping to keep dehydration at bay.

  Keeping his balance was still an ongoing issue. Dizziness was an issue as well, and the surrounding environment would occasionally spin around him.

  He decided to lay down.

  Sinking into the snow, all he saw now were the white walls of snow next to him and the blue sky above him.

  Temperatures still felt like they were close to the freezing mark, but the bright sun brought a fair amount of heat.

  Water was dripping from the icicles. The sun was melting them. Bryce took advantage of the fresh water supply, drinking one drop at a time.

  He thought he heard footsteps treading through the snow a few minutes earlier, but when he had looked around, he didn't see anyone.

  He closed his eyes, and dozed.

  Now that the footsteps were growing louder, he didn't even have the energy to stand up and look. He opened his eyes and looked up at the sky.

  A flock of birds flew away, frightened about something.

  The footsteps grew even louder, sending a chill through Bryce's bones. He sat up slightly, but not all the way. The footsteps would come and go, pausing, then continuing again.

  The footsteps came to a stop, and then a tall shadow stretched across the snow. The shadow was three meters away.

  Bryce squinted in the sunlight and saw Alec staring at him with a borderline maniacal expression on his face. One of Alec's eyes looked angry, and the other looked happy in a strange way. He wasn't just staring at him, though. He seemed to stare right through him.

  Bryce wasn't afraid. He seemed to be more concerned with his gradual starvation, dehydration, and sleep deprivation.

  Alec was holding onto a thick branch he had torn from a tree.

  Bryce put his hand in front of his face, shielding his eyes from the sun.

  “How long do you think you can hide from me?” Alec asked.

  “Listen,” Bryce said. “The past . . . is over.”

  Alec looked at him confusedly. Then his expression changed to fierce anger. “No, Bryce.” He took a step forward. “It isn't.” He thought about prison, and how he had tried to commit suicide three times while he was there. The agonizing memories were all too near to him.

  Bryce was too weary to react in fear or anger. He was too weary to react at all. So when he saw Alec swinging the branch at him, he failed to block the hit. The tip of the branch struck him in the center of his chest. He immediately backed away, and tried to get up.

  Alec swung again, striking Bryce's left thigh. The impact made a cracking sound, since his left pocket was carrying the beacon.

  Alec took another swing at him, this time striking him on the shoulder. He struck him a third, and then a fourth time. All of them were short, quick hits. But now he was winding up to take a bigger swing.

  Bryce rolled away, into the wall of soft snow beside him.

  The tip of the tree branch landed where his head had been just a moment earlier. He managed to get back up, feeling the pain in his chest and shoulder.

  Alec was still swinging the branch wildly, striking Bryce repeatedly. Then he lost his balance and dropped the branch in the knee-high snow.

  As he tried to stand back up, Bryce sprang forward, and knocked him down into the snow. He took a swing at him, landing his fist on Alec's face. He took three more swings, each time striking him in the face.

  Droplets of red spattered the white snow.

  When Bryce relented, Alec wiped a patch of blood away from his face, and looked at his red hand in horror.

  Bryce stood up and backed away, giving Alec a chance to compose himself.

  Alec sat up and watched a small patch of blood fall away from his face. He turned to face Bryce, his breaths coming in short gasps.

  “I wasn't trying to do anything to you,” Bryce said “I was just trying to help your wife.”

  Alec looked almost relaxed now. He seemed detached from everything. “You didn't do anything to me? What did you think was going to happen by testifying against me in court? What did you think was going to happen when they convicted me of attempted murder?”

  “I was just trying to help her.”

  Sitting perfectly still, Alec smiled. “You haven't helped anyone. She's dead now. I took care of her, and next, I'm gonna take care of you.”

  “How did you know about my flight arrangements?” Bryce asked.

  “Callahan told me,” Alec said. “He doesn't even like you. No one likes you.”

  “Just remember,” Bryce said. “I had the upper hand on you just now, but I let you go. Think about that for a minute.”

  Alec said nothing. He simply kept smiling, still looking detached.

  “We've got more important things to deal with out here,” Bryce said.

  They were about five meters away from each other. Bryce was too weary to do or say anything further. He turned and started walking away, glancing over his shoulder.

  Alec continued to sit complacently, watching Bryce walk away.

  Chapter Nine

  Although it wasn't sundown yet, Bryce had stumbled upon another cavern, so he decided to gather pine boughs, and stay there until the next morning.

  Somewhere in the distance, Bryce heard a roaring sound. It made him glad to know that this cavern had a much narrower entrance, which would not allow a full-sized bear to get through.

  Crouching down, he felt the beacon in his pocket. He extracted it from his pocket and looked at it.

  It was broken.

  It was smashed beyond repair from Alec's devastating hit. There would be no chance of sending for help now.

  As he stared down at the damaged beacon, it occurred to him that he had been holding onto his deceased girlfriend for too long. It was time to move on.

  The damaged distress beacon almost served as an epiphan
y. Sometimes when something was damaged, you had to let it go, regardless of how difficult it was.

  He had been putting too much hope in a small electronic device that only ended up failing him. He tucked it into his pocket, and said a prayer.

  * * * * *

  Shivering through the cold, late-evening air, Bryce was fairly certain that he would cross paths with Alec in the wilderness again. It was only a matter of when.

  Everything ached, and with his physical condition deteriorating by the hour, he wasn't sure he would be so fortunate to win a fight with Alec the next time around.

  Of course, this probably meant Alec was deteriorating, too. Or was he?

  * * * * *

  After falling asleep on the ground for a few hours, Alec had decided to follow Bryce's tracks. He wasn't as accustomed to walking as much as Bryce was, and he had a difficult time keeping up with him.

  By the time he had followed Bryce's tracks for five miles, the sun had started to go down. He was ready to take another break when he noticed a reddish orange spot of light coming from the midst of the forestry area to his left.

  He drew closer to the source of light until he found himself standing in front of a log cabin. He wondered if Bryce had spotted the small house. But then he looked at the ground and realized Bryce's tracks were nowhere near it.

  Bryce must have missed it, likely because it blended in so well with the woods, especially during the daytime hours. The only reason Alec hadn't missed it, too, was because the illumination coming from the interior stood out among the darkness of the late evening.

  Alec walked up to the door and knocked.

  Someone answered almost right away. As the door opened, a man who looked to be in his early seventies stood in front of Alec and stared at him without saying a word.

  “Hi,” Alec said. “Sorry to bother you, but I've been involved in a plane crash, and I was wondering if I could use your phone.”

  “Sure, buddy,” the elderly man said. He stepped aside and held the door open for Alec.

  “Thank you.”

  The door closed.

  “I heard all about it on TV,” the elderly man said. “There was an EMP that took out the power grid.”

  “Is that what it was? An EMP?”

  “Yeah. I still have power, though, as you can see. My generators and electronic devices were in a special cage that's supposed to protect them from stuff like this. Not everything works, though. Some of my appliances survived, and others didn't.”

  “What caused it?”

  “One the news, they were saying it was due to some kind of coronal mass ejection.”

  “So it's not terrorist related?”

  “It doesn't look like it, no.”

  “That makes me feel a little better.”

  “You look like you could use some bandages on your face. Did the glass windows on the plane shatter or something?”

  Alec paused momentarily, trying to think of what he was going to tell the man. “Oh, I don't even want to talk about it. Let's just say I'm lucky to be alive.”

  “I'd say you are,” the elderly man said. “Planes have been crash-landing all over the country. I've seen the wreckage on the news. It's tragic to say the least.”

  “Can I have a glass of water?”

  “Sure, of course. I've also got some leftovers for dinner. I'm sure you're hungry.”

  “Yes, sir. I'd appreciate that.”

  “Here, have a seat,” the elderly man said, pulling up a chair for Alec.

  “Thanks.”

  On his way to the kitchen, the elderly man turned around to look at Alec. “Oh, the phone isn't working,” he said, pointing at the southwest corner of the house, where the phone was. “I guess the telephone lines are down.”

  “Oh.”

  While the elderly man shuffled through some pots and pans in the kitchen cabinet, Alec looked up at the shotgun that rested atop the dining room silverware cabinet. He wondered if it was loaded. He had business to take care of, and all he could think of was killing Bryce.

  The elderly man continued to shuffle through the pots and pans, clearly distracted.

  Alec took the shotgun off the cabinet and checked to see if it was loaded.

  It was.

  He carefully set it back on top of the cabinet, right where he had found it. Then he picked up the phone and held it to his ear to make it look like he tried calling someone.

  The elderly man stepped back into the room. “The food should be ready in a few minutes. I'm just reheating it. I'm fixing you a hot beverage, too.”

  “Great,” Alec said, hanging up the phone. “You're right. The phone line's are down. I can't get a dial tone.”

  “Do you live far from here?”

  “Sort of. I live in Washington.”

  “So, do you need a ride into town? My pickup truck still works. It's really old, so it doesn't rely so heavily on electronics. I've also got a few barrels of gasoline stored away.”

  “I could use a ride, if you don't mind.”

  “Well, the vehicle is actually at the my friend's house. He's a mechanic and he was doing some repairs for me. He lives about eight miles north of here. We'll have to walk over there to get it. He should be finished working on it by now.”

  “I'd appreciate that.”

  There was a pause.

  “Eight miles north, huh?” Alec asked. “So is that where the nearest town is?”

  “The nearest town is a little further than that. This person actually lives close to the border of the nearest town. At least the roads are usually clear where he lives, though, unlike here. I guess if you can walk all that way, you can walk yourself a little further until you get into town, but it can save you a few miles.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good.”

  The elderly man looked like he was about to say something when he heard the water in the kettle boiling. He rushed into the kitchen.

  What a hermit, Alec thought.

  But if anything happened to the man out there, it would be a very long time before anyone noticed, and by that time, Alec would be long gone, perhaps halfway across the world.

  The elderly man stepped back into the room and placed a steaming hot cup of tea on the table. “There you go. Do you want to take care of those cuts and bruises on your face?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I have an ice pack to help with the swelling, but it's not cold. It's actually sitting around somewhere in my bedroom. I'll have to find it and put it in the freezer.”

  “Okay,” Alec said, heading toward the kitchen sink. “I'm going to wash my hands.”

  The elderly man went into his bedroom and pulled the covers away from his pillow. That's where he thought he had left the ice pack, since he remembered using it for his neck. But it wasn't there.

  He looked around some more, and eventually found it on his nightstand.

  He walked through the short hallway, listening to the kitchen sink running. “It will probably take at least an hour for this to . . .”

  No one was in the kitchen.

  He turned off the kitchen faucet, then put the ice pack into the freezer. He turned around and saw that no one was in the living room, either.

  The door was partially open, letting a cold draft inside the cabin.

  The elderly man confusedly walked toward the door. His first guess was that his visitor wanted to go outside for some fresh air. But if he had walked all the way there from the plane crash, didn't he have enough fresh air for one day?

  Standing in the doorway, he peered outside.

  No one was out there. Additionally, the footprints in the snow showed that the visitor had not left. He was still in the house.

  He closed the door and turned around to find himself standing at the barrel of a shotgun. Before he could react, Alec pulled the trigger.

  Chapter Ten

  After burying the elderly man in the woods, Alec helped himself to a large meal. He was planning to spend the night there. Then he would continue
to pursue Bryce, and this time he would have the advantage of having a loaded weapon.

  He even thought about leaving right now, so he wouldn't risk having Bryce get away. If Bryce reached the town before he did, he might never find him again. This was his chance for revenge.

  Then Alec thought about how long it would take Bryce to reach the town. The elderly man said it was a few more miles further than his friend's house. Since his friend's house was eight miles away, he figured the town was approximately ten to eleven miles away.

  Under normal conditions, it might take a person an hour to an hour and a half to walk a couple of miles. But he had to consider the fact that Bryce was treading through knee-high snow. Combining that with the fact that he had almost no energy to walk at a decent pace, he would be fortunate to reach the town by tomorrow evening.

  Alec had time.

  He would rise early, and since he would be well-fed and well-rested, he should have no problem walking three times faster than Bryce. He was more than confident he would catch up to him.

  * * * * *

  Aside from the hunger and other discomforts, Bryce had made it through most of the night without incident.

  It was still dark outside. But it felt like he had been in the cavern for a long time, leading him to believe that it was probably four or five in the morning.

  He thought about what he had done to Callahan to make him want to divulge his whereabouts to Alec.

  Bryce wouldn't have wished something like that on his worst enemy.

  Snow blew into his face. The wind was starting to pick up again.

  He had only slept for a few hours. Still exhausted, he couldn't help but think about how much he wanted to get out of the foreboding wilderness, and what little time he had in which to do it.

  After much more tossing and turning, he realized he wasn't going to be able to slumber any longer. His mind was racing too much, and the temperature was about fifteen degrees colder than it had been just a few short hours ago. It was still dark out, which would make it more difficult to walk. But he didn't want to waste time.

  He got up, took a bite out of an icicle, and stepped out of the cavern.