CME Apocalypse Fiction

by Blaze Eastwood

  * * * * *

  Alec woke up around five o' clock in the morning and arose without much hesitation.

  He had left the shotgun lying under the bed. He stood up and stretched, yawning.

  After having such a big meal the night before, he wasn't even hungry, but he forced himself to have breakfast, anyway.

  Ransacking the place didn't prove to be worth the time and effort. He had spent the better half of an hour going through everything in the cabin, but he didn't come up with anything he could use.

  There were no canned goods, water bottles, or flashlights. There was a lantern, but it wasn't battery powered.

  Of course, this was bad news for Alec.

  He filled up an empty plastic bottle with filtered well water, and then covered it up with a lid. Then he grabbed the loaded shotgun. He already had his own hat, gloves, and jacket, so he took nothing further.

  The sun was already starting to rise by the time he glanced out the window. He casually let himself out, passing through the doorway as if he was the owner of the cabin.

  * * * * *

  Pretend it's just a walk in the park, Bryce told himself, using his imagination as a coping mechanism. He thought back to all the times in which he had spent most of the day walking through National parks, downtown city streets, or forest preservation areas.

  If he could spend ten straight hours walking, he could spend twelve consecutive hours walking. And if he could spend twelve consecutive hours walking, he could spend twelve consecutive hours walking the next day, and so on.

  Of course, it wasn't the same. He was walking much further now, and he was doing it without adequate hydration.

  He continued the imaginative coping mechanism, nevertheless. It seemed to be helping at least a little bit.

  A roaring sound bellowed through the area. Bryce scanned his surroundings—the cavern behind him, the patch of trees to his right. He wasn't sure where the sound was coming from, but he knew it was close.

  He couldn't afford to run into a bear at this time, not with the shape he was in. He was feeling weaker with every passing hour.

  Not feeling comfortable out in the open, he decided to head into the woodsy area to his right.

  The dead, low-hanging tree branches pressed against his jacket and jabbed him in the neck as he forced his way through the narrow path.

  The roaring sound thundered through the area again, sending an unsettling chill through Bryce's bones.

  It was terrifying to hear a roar like that now that he was in the wild; much more intimidating than hearing it at a zoo, where the animals were caged.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bryce hadn't heard the roaring for a while now, but that wasn't enough to calm his nerves. He knew the bear was lurking. The low-hanging branches still pressed heavily against his jacket.

  He was descending a small slope now.

  Growing tired, he reached for the tree stump nearest to him and leaned against it. A bird chirped, then flew out of the tree, flapping its wings wildly.

  A few minutes went by, and then Bryce heard a devastating roar. It was hard to see through all the trees, but he knew the animal was extremely close.

  The animal roared again, and now Bryce stood still, nervously squeezing a low-hanging tree branch in his hands.

  He scanned the area, but saw nothing. He began to wonder if he was really better off in the woods than out in the open. He didn't even know anymore. The food deprivation had made his thinking cloudy.

  The stumps were thin, and easy enough to break through. But it still took time for a bear to maneuver its way around the stumps. Bryce still felt better where he was than out in an open field of snow.

  The animal continued to roar.

  Bryce turned to exit the woodsy area, and was startled to see a dark shape that was clambering down the slope between a row of trees.

  He froze, staring at the dark shape.

  It was an adult bear, even larger than the one he had seen the day before. It was staring at him. It shook its head and bellowed, deafeningly loud.

  Bryce didn't move.

  The bear looked back and forth between Bryce and the trees, motionless. It couldn't fit between the narrow rows of trees, but it was trying to break right through them. It's forelegs gripped the two trees in front of it.

  When Bryce heard the cracking sound, he realized how easy it was for the bear to break down the tree stumps.

  The bear continued to push its forelegs into the tree stumps. The cracking sounds became louder, and then the tree stumps snapped.

  Now walking backwards, Bryce watched the tree stumps slowly tip over and hit the ground in a thunderous crash.

  Now that Bryce was mobile, the bear picked up the pace, following him. He had seen enough. He turned his back on the bear, and hurriedly fought his way through the narrow row of trees.

  The bear rushed after him, squeezing through the trees, and knocking over any stumps that got in the way.

  Bryce could hear the wreckage behind him as the bear tore through the tree stumps, but he didn't dare to look back. It would only slow him down.

  He could hear the bear gaining on him, though. The faster he went, the faster the bear followed.

  Finally, he made it to the end of the row of trees, and then . . .

  Wait. Where was he now?

  In an unpleasant surprise, he found himself standing at the top of a descending slope. He had taken a wrong turn somewhere.

  There was another slope directly across from where he was standing. There was slopes all around. It was sort of like standing at the edge of an extremely large ditch.

  Across from the slope was another row of trees, but behind that, he could see an open clearing. No worries. He would just have to cross over the slope, get through the next patch of trees, and then he could pick up the pace once he reached the open field, leaving the bear behind him.

  Bryce got to the edge of the slope, then looked back at the bear's expressionless eyes rolling around in its sockets.

  Its large head rose up, and then it used its forelegs to push through another tree stump.

  Bryce descended the slope, and suddenly, the bear was out of view. He was now at the bottom of the large ditch, ready to ascend.

  He reached the top of the opposing slope when a jolting impact shook the area. Birds scattered in all directions as the sound reached them and echoed through the air.

  It was a gunshot.

  At first, Bryce thought it might have been a hunter shooting an animal. But then he saw Alec standing atop the slope, standing in front of the patch of trees. Smoke was still coming out of the barrel of the shotgun.

  Bryce now realized that Alec had aimed the weapon at him, and missed. Shotguns were for close range only. Bryce was standing too far away.

  Alec moved closer and raised the shotgun, firing again.

  He missed.

  Bryce ran into the patch of trees, listening to the shotgun go off again. This time the shell had gotten only a few inches away from him, striking a tree stump that was right next to his face. At the corner of his eye, he saw the bark from the tree obliterate into a cloud of smoke.

  Alec stopped firing, and started running toward Bryce. He needed to conserve ammo, and he couldn't get a clear shot at him at this point.

  The open clearing was straight ahead, only about ten meters away.

  Bryce's heart was thudding, and his breaths were short and rapid. He was running so fast that he wasn't able to see the broken tree stump sticking out of the ground. He tripped over it and fell, landing in the partially melted snow.

  Alec caught up to him.

  Lying on the ground, Bryce grabbed the nearest tree stump and used it to hoist himself up into a seated position. Then he stood up all the way, facing Alec.

  “You don't look too good,” Alec said. “Now you're getting a taste of suffering and pain; just a glimpse of what I've had to deal with the whole time I was locked away.”

  “Let it go,” Bryce said. “
We still have to find a way out of here. It won't help if we keep fighting each other.”

  Alec raised the shotgun. “I've got news for you. I've already found a way out. I don't need you for anything.”

  “Then why aren't you pulling the trigger? What are you waiting for?”

  “I think killing you quick would be too merciful for you. I was thinking about taking you with me. I found a cabin. I think I'll shoot you in the leg, and drag you back there to starve to death. Then maybe you'll catch a glimpse of what you put me through.”

  Bryce said nothing.

  “What am I waiting for,” Alec scoffed, trying to imitated Bryce. He pointed the shotgun downward, aiming for Bryce's legs. He started to squeeze the trigger, when suddenly, the large bear emerged from the open clearing.

  The bear stopped and stared at Alec. Then it glanced back and forth between him and Bryce.

  Alec turned his head to look at the bear, unsure of what to do. He was pretty sure he only had one or two shells left in his shotgun.

  Even if he used his last shell on the bear, he was confident he could still overpower Bryce now that he was well-rested and well-fed.

  Not wanting to waste a shell, he waited for the bear to move away.

  But the bear held its ground.

  “Don't even think about running away, Bryce! If I shoot you in the knee right now, the sound of the shotgun will scare this bear away. I won't even have to waste a shell on it. I'll get rid of the bear and put you down all in a single shot.”

  Bryce glanced back and forth between the shotgun and the bear.

  The bear was continuing to stare, when Bryce noticed a second bear sneaking up behind Alec.

  The sounds of the bear's footsteps alerted Alec, prompting him to turn around abruptly. The bear charged forward and knocked him onto the ground, the shotgun falling out of his hands.

  He picked the weapon up, aimed, and fired a shot directly at the bear.

  It didn't seem to have much effect.

  He fired again, striking the bear at close range.

  The bear roared, but it didn't relent.

  Alec tried to fire again, but this time, he only heard a clicking sound.

  He was out of ammo.

  The other bear joined in, charging at Alec. It raised its claw, and crashed it down upon Alec's abdomen. He cried out in agony, feeling the sharp claws tearing away at him.

  Then he felt a new wave of pain in his limbs. The two bears were playing a tug-of-war game with him, pulling at his arms and legs simultaneously.

  His limbs began to separate, and then everything went black as he passed into a state of unconsciousness.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bryce had looked for Alec's tracks in the snow for fifteen minutes, and he finally found them. Since Alec had gotten a shotgun, that meant he was telling the truth about the cabin he had found. And if he had found a cabin, all Bryce had to do now was follow the tracks leading back to it.

  But before following the tracks, there was a nearby hill that he wanted to investigate. If he could get to the top of the hill, he would be able to overlook much of the area and get a better idea of what his surroundings were.

  With aching joints, he forced himself to climb the hill, resting in intervals of thirty seconds. He would have to hurry. The snow was melting, and by this time tomorrow, there might not be any tracks for him to follow.

  When he finally reached the top, he walked to the edge of the hill and peered over the top. He was well over a hundred meters in the air.

  He looked down and saw more of the same; open fields, trees, a mountain in the distant background. But off to his far right, he was something that stood out to him. It was just a speck from where he was standing, but it looked like a small building; a bungalow perhaps.

  He stared at it, squinting in the sunlight. He wasn't sure if it was worth taking the chance or not. He would have to choose to either walk toward it, or go back and follow Alec's tracks back to the cabin.

  Since he wasn't sure how far the cabin was, he saw that route as a risk, too. It might take him twenty hours of following Alec's tracks before he found the cabin. And by that time, the snow might melt, deleting the tracks.

  But if the bungalow turned out to be something else, he would have wasted his time, and by then, it would almost certainly be too late to follow Alec's tracks back to the cabin before the snow finished melting.

  He decided to pursue the bungalow. He just hoped he wouldn't collapse from exhaustion before he got there.

  * * * * *

  After walking toward the bungalow for what felt like hours and hours, Bryce was beginning to wonder if it even existed.

  A shiver ran through him when he considered the possibility that he had just wanted to see a bungalow so much that he had imagined it.

  He sat down on a small rock, about to give up. After taking a few breaths and looking around, he saw a light-colored, small building. It was indeed a bungalow, standing behind a large tree.

  He stood up and walked toward it.

  * * * * *

  When he finally reached the door, he knocked twice.

  No answer.

  He knocked three times . . . and waited.

  Still no answer.

  Maybe no one was home. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he was fairly certain it was probably mid-afternoon.

  All of a sudden, he heard a clicking sound on the other side of the door, and then it swung open.

  A middle-aged man stood in the doorway. “Can I help you?”

  “Yeah, I was involved in a plane crash, and I was hoping to use your phone.”

  The owner of the bungalow could clearly see that Bryce was sincere, which put him at ease. He knew Bryce wasn't trying to rob him. His weary expression and appearance were clearly the signs of a man who had been without food and adequate water for at least a couple of days.

  “I don't even have to come in,” Bryce said. “I can wait out here if you want. If you could just call someone for me, and spare a glass of water—

  “It's alright,” the owner said. “Come on in.”

  The door closed behind them.

  “Plane crash, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It looks like you could have used a distress beacon.”

  “I had one, but it didn't do me much good. First, I couldn't get a signal. Then it broke.”

  The owner shrugged. “You couldn't get a signal? That's because of the EMP.”

  Bryce nodded.

  “Well, the phone is out of order because the lines are down. You can stay here for a while, so you can rest, though. I'll get you a glass of water.”

  Bryce sat down on the couch, next to a trash can. He thought about the distress beacon again.

  In a way, the whole experience had helped him. It had helped him break away from his deceased girlfriend. It made him realize what was truly important, and what wasn't, even though he didn't fully understand everything right now.

  He knew the experience had left him wiser, and for that, he was thankful.

  He was confident that he would get home . . . somehow. He had made it this far already. In fact, he knew someone who lived in Alaska; an uncle who had a spare room in his house. He would probably go to his place until he figured out how to get home.

  In the meantime, he peered through the window and gazed at the melting snow. Then he extracted the distress beacon from his pocket and looked at it one last time before throwing it into the trash can.

  Hazardous Escape

  A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

  By Blaze Eastwood

  Text Copyright © 2017 Blaze Eastwood

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced

  in any form or by any means without the

  prior written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual p
ersons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  More from Blaze Eastwood

  Chapter One

  Lance and his eight-year-old son hurried into the car to avoid the downpour of rain.

  “Where are we gonna go next, dad?” Tyler asked, slamming the passenger's door shut. The door's interior was already soaked in rainwater.

  “The gym,” Lance said.

  They had been homeless for three days now, living in Lance's seventeen-year-old sedan. Their gym memberships allowed them to use the showers in the locker room at no extra charge. The building also provided shelter from the harsh weather conditions.

  Lance fired up the engine and looked at the various gauges on the dashboard. To his relief, he still had half a tank of fuel.

  “How come you don't work out as often as you did before?” Tyler asked.

  “I'm trying not to burn too many calories,” Lance said.

  It was Sunday afternoon. But on a weekday, Lance would normally drop Tyler off at school while he went around looking for employment. The job search had been a fruitless endeavor so far.

  But at least in the meantime, he was still generating some income from an online business he had started on the side quite some time ago. The money was low, but it was enough to keep them alive for now.

  After seeing how many homeless people were wandering the streets, Lance and Tyler felt fortunate to have a vehicle to stay in.

  The economic collapse that followed the nuclear war had left many people without houses or vehicles.

  Lance's financial savings were enough to pay for gasoline and food, but had not been enough to keep up with the mortgage payments on his house.