I glanced up at the ominous cloudy sky. The problem in the whole situation though was that we might not have a choice in the matter. I quickened the pace, as I began to look for better shelter for the coming nightfall and what it might bring with it.
Chatta drew up and whistled for his fellow trackers to pull back in.
The hired guns looked among themselves uncertainly, “Why are we stopping? There are still several hours of daylight yet?”
Chatta’s stoic features took in the men assigned to him for the hunt, as he barely concealed his disgust for them. They had lived here in Siberia all of their lives and yet they were still unable to read the signs of nature or the story to be told in the clouds.
“Shelter is good here. We wait for big snow here.”
Dumbly the men looked up seeming to take in the serious turbulent war clouds overhead for the first time.
Chatta turned away and gazed off down the trail. The snow would wipe out what little trail the two men and the woman had left. He would have to track them with signs that couldn’t be seen from here on out. He would have to read the mind of the leader of the small band that they were chasing.
The man ahead of him intrigued him as few men did. To Chatta most men were an open book, but the man he had tracked for days had layers of depth to him. Chatta already keenly respected the skill with which his adversary had chosen his route and managed their retreat. Taking out the dogs and their handlers had been an act of carefully planned genius.
No doubt more such surprises existed within the mind of his adversary. He would have to be careful, even as he savored the chase of his adversary, in this game of death. Hard to kill men, who were knowledgeable of the ways of the land, were hard to find anymore. If he could arrange it, he would challenge this strange warrior and claim his strength, in a battle that he would win.
It was Trent that found the opening of the cave in the gathering darkness. Quickly we moved inside for shelter from the freezing wind that had begun to blow across the land outside. My hands guided by long practice soon had a fire made out of the fluffy punk of a rotted pine tree. I added wood to the little blaze and the cave lightened up.
There was an enraged squeal from further back in the cave. With a shriek Deshavi flattened back against the cave wall, as a full-grown boar hog along with her swine offspring came charging into the firelight.
The young pigs streaked past us out into the open, but the mother boar was having none of it. This was her cave and she was going to defend it as such. She came at me swinging her head left and right trying to gore me with her sharpened tusks, as her enraged squeals echoed deafeningly throughout the cave. Trent dove in and swiped her up along one flank with his hunting knife. Far from injuring her it only seemed to enrage her further. She turned on Trent with murder glaring balefully in her beady eyes and I saw my opportunity and took it.
I ducked in toward her and grabbed both back hind legs and hoisted her up so that it looked like I had a wheelbarrow. She was now helpless to defend against our advances and Trent quickly moved in with the killing swipe of his knife.
The hunger brought on by our rationing of our food would be ended tonight. This impromptu hunt, while it had been a dangerous experience, had been an extremely fortunate one for us.
With Trent’s help I pulled the boar outside and began to butcher it. So much of surviving in the wilderness was just the constant daily struggle to feed oneself. In modern societies it had been forgotten largely, as to what a struggle it could be, simply to eke out enough food to keep on going. Even the homeless in cities had soup kitchens and charities that they could go to. The vast stretches of Siberian wilderness knew nothing of soup kitchens and much less of any form of charity.
The world at large seemed to be unraveling so fast from its carefully constructed order these days. What would happen to the tens of millions of people unused to the rigors of simply surviving day-to-day on what food one could find, when their easy sources of food were taken away from them? It would be a catastrophe that few would emerge from unscathed and yet it seemed, because of the actions of a few the world was fast approaching such an outcome.
Later with a full belly I forced myself to get up, in order to investigate what other hidden dangers the cave may hold, before retiring for the night. Deshavi had eaten well despite herself and was already fast asleep. Trent looked sleepy, but resolutely he sat up awake with a rifle cradled in his arms, as he was on watch duty.
I pulled a burning torch out of the fire and headed off deeper into the cave. My sleepiness soon faded away as I took in the discovery of days gone by. There were cave drawings everywhere!
I looked about in open fascination at the artistic renderings of the ancient past. These drawings were of my people’s creation. They told the tale of not just their day-to-day war to survive, but also of their migration after the great beasts they hunted. What a time it must’ve been. Ted would’ve loved to have seen this place.
My torch, all but gone out, I left the artistry of my ancestors and went back out to the outer cave. I stepped past Trent into the tunnel entrance of the cave, until I stood outside. It was snowing. There were already several inches on the ground. How could something so pretty have such deadly consequences? I stepped back inside and Trent looked up noticing the snow laying on my head.
“You can go to sleep Trent. No one will be moving around in this storm.”
He nodded and slumped down onto his blanket, but he still cradled the rifle in his arms ready to blow a hole in anything that appeared unwanted in the cave.
Chapter Fourteen
Into the Cold
I stared moodily out into the heavy falling snow. It hadn’t let up all night. In an hour it would be close to two feet in depth. The best thing for us to do was to stay holed up in this cozy shelter, while the storm raged outside.
That was what common sense told me anyway. My instincts were saying something completely else, keep moving. But why? I’d never doubted the instincts that I had lived by and now was not a good time to start.
“Pack up we’re heading out after breakfast.”
Trent looked at me in surprise and then back out at the heavy falling snow, “Is this some kind of gut instinct or something, because frankly I don’t see the sense of it!”
“You could say that.” I said grimly.
Trent grimaced, but moved back inside to pack up.
After breakfast we headed out into the deep snow. None of us were happy about my forced exodus from the snug cave, but I think I gave myself a harder time about it than either Trent or Deshavi were willing to comment to.
Trent did the lion’s share of the trail breaking through the heavy snow. I came next with Deshavi following behind me. This excursion out into the world of snow and cold was a lot to put upon Deshavi’s newfound strength of the past day, but she stuck up with it. It was good to see that the will to survive still burned brightly within some part of her.
We found no shelter that day, as darkness began to fall and we were forced to take what shelter we could in a grove of pine trees. It was well after dark before my shaking fingers managed to get a fire going and it was a pitiful one at that and it did little to warm us. We spent the long miserable night hunched around it shivering. I could hear Deshavi’s teeth chattering so badly I feared all her teeth would be chipped off by morning. Trent tried to draw closer to her, but she wouldn’t have it, still too intent on punishing him it seemed.
Late into the night I huffed out, “Sorry.”
I’d said it to no one in particular and yet everyone, including myself at the same time. This was without a doubt the most stupid thing I’d ever done!
We started back out before it was light; out into the still falling snow. Would it ever stop? One thing was for sure, if we didn’t find shelter this night, we were going to be even worse off in the morning than we were in this sorry moment.
All day we fought our way through the deep snow. My respect fo
r Trent already being considerable, only deepened at the Herculean effort he was putting out to break track for me and Deshavi. My granddaughter was likewise impressing me, but I wasn’t impressing myself at all. I was struggling to hold it together and keep putting one foot forward after the other.
I had to be strong for this young couple, but all I felt was a deep-seated weariness that seemed to eat away at what little strength of resolve I had left. I was about all done in, but they were many miles yet to go before my Deshavi was safe and I wanted to see her happy again.
Silently, I railed against the God of Heaven and Earth. Why had it come to this? Was my whole life to be consumed by bitterness? Was all my strength to be poured out on wasted endeavors? Where in this twisted maze of life that I had walked through, having to stumble my way, was there hope to be found that things would ever get any better?
When I found joy it was taken from me. When I found peace it was only to watch it be destroyed. When I found hope it was only to see it crushed.
I’m only a weak mortal combination of dust and breathe Lord!
Why must my short days be consumed by sorrows? Where are Your promises? I have been faithful!
So why haven’t You?
A warm breeze touched my cheek and I stopped in the snow that was up to my waist now, already regretting my accusatory tone towards my Creator. Why was it when things got bad all faith seemed to fail and one turned into a whining ungrateful brat? I was such a failure! As a man of faith. As a father and now as a grandfather. Perhaps it was time to die. What had Job’s wife advised him to do, ‘curse God and die.’
I couldn’t bring myself to do that. I knew better than that. I may not be happy with the sum total of my life’s achievements and experiences, but it wasn’t God’s fault.
Neither Trent or Deshavi had noticed that I no longer followed them. The warm breeze touched my cheek again. I was losing my touch on reality. I glanced down and I realized that at some point, I had fallen to my knees weighed down by my heavy pack and the sorrows of my life, not to mention my cursed old age!
Deshavi’s fingers were at my face and I looked up into her worried eyes. She was saying something, but her words seemed to be coming from far away. Trent was pulling my pack off, when I felt that warm breeze again. It wouldn’t be long now.
Trent abruptly stopped and started looking around. Something seized up in me and I reached out to grab at him, “You felt it too?” I croaked out past cold lips.
He nodded and with their help I got back up. I reached for the pack, but Trent dragged it out of reach and started breaking trail off to the side of our original route. Before I could step forward after him Deshavi was at my side, with an arm slipped around me for support. I had to admit it felt good to have a little help. Not having the pack on was a relief to, but I didn’t know how Trent was managing it.
Trent headed across a little open area towards a copse of trees. Once in the trees the landform changed abruptly. The hill, or what had looked like one on the approach, was actually sharply split into two halves. More warm air came drifting out toward us from the narrow rift in the hill. The closer we got the snow got less deep, until we stumbled in the muddy bare ground of the forest that was completely free of snow.
We walked up the rift, which had steep stony sides and was covered overhead by the surrounding canopy of the forest to either side of the rift in the hill. It was well above freezing within the sharp sided little canyon, in fact it was almost balmy feeling. The snow we were covered with began to melt away rapidly. Could this turn of good fortune really be possible?
A big buck stood up with a bugle of alarm followed by two does.
“Shoot them!” I called out to Trent, but he was already fumbling with a rifle, as he tried to get it unencumbered from his pack. It was the automatic function of the rifle that spewed enough bullets to bring two of the deer down, other than any ability of his cold fingers to aim the rifle at the time.
We had shelter, we had warmth, and now we had food. God had provided for us bountifully within the midst of the storm. I fell to my knees praising God for this place of sanctuary in the midst of the wilderness, even as the snow continued to fall outside, completely covering up our rough path through the snow.
One day earlier.
Chatta held the gun out before him, and with flashlight in hand stepped into the cave. He was soon flanked by the others, who were similarly armed. They weren’t here!
How could that be? Who would leave a place of shelter and go out into such a storm? It was crazy and yet his adversary had kept him from claiming the victory that should have been his by right for pressing through the storm to reach this place. Chatta had been sure that given their general direction that they would find this place and be waiting here for him. They had been here though. He reached down and felt at the ashes of the fire, cold.
He went to the mouth of the cave and stared out at the falling snow. In the push to reach this cave he had lost one of his fellow trackers, who had fallen over an unexpected ravine and broken his neck. Several of the hired guns had come down with frostbite and had been left to make their own way back through the snow. They would be dead, by now, most likely to. All that sacrifice to attain the prize and it wasn’t to be had! It was somewhere out there in the drifting whiteness.
There were no other shelters for miles around, which meant that his queries were most likely frozen to death to, but somehow he doubted it. They could be anywhere out there and now he had completely lost the trail. His own life could be on the line now, as his superiors didn’t take failure lightly.
Chapter Fifteen
Unexpected Warmth
There were no caves within the narrow rift, but there was an overhang and the ground beneath it was dry. It had to be close to 50 degrees within this cleft of the Earth, while I doubted it was much above zero outside of it. The answer to the warmth could be found in the steam rising off the water of several pools throughout the cleft. Geothermal heat rising off some underground body of magma close to the surface. This place was a godsend!
Trent was sitting on a rock by one of the pools, with his feet in the pool of warm water. Deshavi was doing likewise farther away from him. I was too lazy and worn out to crawl over to the water’s edge or I would have been doing the same. I saw Deshavi cup some of the water in her hands.
“I wouldn’t drink it Deshavi. I’m not sure what the chemical makeup of it might be. We’ll melt snow for drinking water later.”
She nodded and let the warm water slip through her hands back into the pool. She looked lonely sitting there all by herself and she looked the part as well. I saw her glance at Trent, when he wasn’t looking. She wanted to be over there with him, but some internal wall kept her where she was. Trent glanced over at her and she quickly looked elsewhere.
As I watched the two I began to plot how it would be best to go about breaking up this divide between them. I was certainly going to need a large portion of Divine intervention to achieve a reunion of the warring factions at play within this setting. I just hoped I’d recognize the opportunity to do so when it appeared. One thing was for sure, we were going to be here for a while, at least for as long as the storm continued to rage outside. My eyelids descended, as restful sleep took over my consciousness.
We didn’t attempt much the second day, but to eat and sleep in the warmth of the hidden vale. Trent and I were exchanging outrageous war stories that had little basis in reality, while Deshavi continued to sleep on her bed role for long periods of time.
Deshavi abruptly began to twist and moan in her sleep and then she screamed. Both I and Trent rushed toward her, but Trent beat me there. As he reached down to awaken her from the nightmare her eyes opened and she screamed again.
It happened too fast for Trent to avoid it. Her hand came up with a rock in it and she smashed it into his temple repeatedly. Trent fell and she still whacked at him with the rock. I grabbed the hand with the rock and knocked it away, befo
re backhanding her across the face splitting her lip in the process.
The slap seemed to snap her into some form of conscious reality and she scooted away on the ground.
“What the devil’s wrong with you?” I roared out at her.
I gave her tear stained face one last look of incomprehension before I turned back to Trent.
I rolled Trent over. The first hit had been the worst. It had left a nasty gauge in his forehead, which was bleeding freely down the side of his face. I couldn’t tell whether the damage was more than just superficial or not, because of all the blood. He was out cold.
Deshavi began to wail at the sight of all the blood and clutched her knees to her chest. I had to slow this bleeding somehow. Trent abruptly stirred and I relaxed inwardly glad that he wasn’t in a coma. His eyes blinked open and he said something that he shouldn’t have, as he clutched at his head with both hands. As his hand came away all bloody he found Deshavi and gave her a look that was not nice at all.
“I’ve had it!” He spit out with all the venom his words could muster.
Awkwardly with my help he got to his feet. He abruptly pulled free of my grasp and stumbled away towards a more secluded part of the cut still clutching at his head.
At the sight of him leaving Deshavi truly began to sob piteously.
Oh God what to do?
I glanced down and caught sight of some old scars on my arm. This could work!
I ran after Trent leaving Deshavi to sob.
“Trent!” I said, as I grasped his arm to stop him. He tried to shrug out of my hold on him, but I held on.
“Go away!” He said unkindly.
“Trent you need to hear a story!”
Agent out of Time (The Agents for Good) Page 11