by Alex Gunwick
Sweat dripped into his eyes. With the sun directly overhead, heat blazed down to fry everything in the path of its rays. He returned to the picnic table in the shade. He hadn’t planned on resting this early in the day, but maybe it made sense to stay out of the heat.
He didn’t realize he’d dozed off until he heard footsteps coming up the trail. He bolted upright in time to see a young man and woman wearing full through-hiker gear enter the clearing. They were probably in their early twenties. Both extremely fit and smiling.
“Hey,” the guy said. “Are you headed north or south?”
“South,” Luke said.
“Cool. We’re going north.”
“How long have you been on the trail?”
“A couple of months,” the woman responded. “You?”
“A couple of days.”
“I’m Peter and this is Mandy.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“So you’re not a through-hiker?” Mandy asked.
“No. My car ran out of gas on the other side of Highway 14.”
“I bet a lot of people are out of gas now,” Peter said. “You know, with the restrictions and all.”
“Restrictions?”
“Yeah, you know about the bombs, right?” Mandy asked.
“Yes. I was up north when it happened.”
“Everyone’s going nuts. We got off the trail a few days ago at the Cajon pass. People are losing their minds,” she said.
“How so?”
“They’re shooting each other,” Peter said. “Lots of looting and riots going on.”
“But you two got back on the trail?”
“Heck yeah,” Mandy said. “It’s probably the safest place in California right now. I’ll take snakes and bears over humans any day.”
“Have you run into other people?”
“No. You?”
“No. But I’ve only been on the trail maybe thirty miles or so. I’m not really sure. I don’t have a map.”
“There’s a map on the ranger station. It’s on the side wall,” Peter said.
“Thanks. I’ll check it out in a bit. How far is it to Cajon Pass?”
“You cross it at mile 342, so you’re about ninety-four miles away,” Mandy said.
“Wow, I thought I was a lot closer.”
“No. And it’s mostly uphill,” Peter said. “And I hope this doesn’t crush your soul, but it snowed a couple of nights ago.”
“Snow?”
“There’s a pretty big elevation gain between here and Cajon. You’re up over six thousand feet for a lot of the hike. It gets up to nine thousand feet in some places. I hope you have a jacket and some long underwear.”
“I’ve got a space blanket,” Luke said.
“Where are you headed? Cajon Pass can’t be your final destination,” Mandy said.
“I’m going home. Orange County.”
“Good luck. Getting through the valley on foot will be a total nightmare.”
“Peter!” Mandy smacked his arm before turning back toward Luke. “I’m sure you’ll make it home.”
“How’s the water situation on the trail?” Luke asked.
“There’s no water until the Mill Creek Fire Station. It’s about seventeen and a half miles away,” she said. “You’d better take all you can carry now.”
“Already stocked up.”
“Good. We’re going to fill up and keep going. We want to make it to the Santa Clara River today.”
“You’re not too far away, maybe five miles,” Luke said.
“Good luck,” Peter said. “And watch out for bears. With an early snow, they might be looking to fatten up sooner than later.”
“And snakes,” Mandy said. “I almost stepped on a Western Diamondback. He coiled up so fast I almost didn’t get out of the way in time. You should have seen the fangs on it, a good two inches long.”
“She also catches fifty-foot-long fish from lakes,” Peter said sarcastically.
“I do not. Twenty feet maybe, but not fifty.” She flashed a teasing smile at Peter who rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s fill up and get going.”
“Have a good hike,” Luke said. “Watch out for humans.”
The couple laughed as they headed toward the water cache. A few minutes later they returned to the trail and waved as they headed down the way he’d come.
He lay in the shade for another hour until the air cooled slightly. It was still probably over ninety degrees, but the sooner he could get up into the mountains, the better. Snow actually didn’t sound too bad right now.
After hiking another six miles, his feet refused to take another step. They throbbed as he walked into Messenger Flats campground. Since he had his pick of campsites, he chose one under a pine tree with a picnic table. It would be nice to sleep up off the ground tonight. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about snakes curling up next to him in the middle of the night.
Another long day of hiking led to an hours-long meditation on his failings as a father. Running into the two kids near his daughter’s age the previous day had affected him more than he wanted to admit. He should have gone to visit her on the weekend. She’d claimed that she needed her space so that she could get settled at school, but she was his daughter. What daughter didn’t need her father hanging around to protect her from frat boys?
As he continued toward the Mill Creek Fire Station, the sparse landscape finally gave way to a forest of burnt trees. Their skeletal remains stretched toward a sky darkening with heavy rainclouds. Although he wanted to press on for as many miles as possible today, he decided to make camp before the rain.
He found an area of high ground and set up his makeshift tent. After wrapping himself in his space blanket, he settled in for the night. Within hours, lightning sliced through the night sky. Deafening cracks of thunder vibrated his bones. Freezing air whipped against his tarp, rattling it until he was sure it would rip.
Hail joined the foray. Under attack from every direction, he had no choice but to weather the storm. His teeth chattered. His muscles ached from overuse and cold. Without any illusions that he’d be sleeping the night away, he prayed he’d survive the night. If he didn’t get struck by lightning it would be a miracle.
Minutes passed like hours, giving him plenty of time to obsess about the safety of his family. His daughter was old enough to take care of herself and she’d had some survival training, and so had his son. But were they together? He could only hope they’d found each other amidst the chaos.
When he woke the next morning, he poked his head out to find a landscape blanketed with snow. He quickly packed his bag and searched for signs of the trail. A depression in the snow marked the path. It was enough to guide him to the Mill Creek Fire Station.
He used the water spigot at the station to refill his water. After using the outhouse, he spotted a plastic-covered hiking register. He flipped open the pages and read several entries from recent hikers. Mandy and Peter had left detailed accounts of their encounters with rattlesnakes. Before them, several other hikers noted nuclear strikes on America. He used a Sharpie marker from his pack to add his own entry.
“Luke Anderson, father to Sierra and Kyle, and beloved husband to Liz, passed through on—” He stopped. Unable to guess the exact date, he simply added, “October, 2017. He was heading home to Orange County, California.” He held the pen poised over the paper for a second before completing his entry, “If you find this, if the world survives, tell my family I loved them.”
An epitaph to his time on the trail. Maybe his actual epitaph if he kept standing around feeling sorry for himself. He stuffed the pen back in his pack and shook out his body. Now wasn’t the time to fall into despair. He’d already made it hundreds of miles, so another couple of hundred were absolutely doable. As long as he pulled his head out of his ass.
He set out at a fast clip. Although he battled against an increasing elevation, he refused to slow his pace. The forest would help shield him from the biting wind. He could han
dle snow, but wind chill would be deadly.
An hour later he crested a hill. Miles of forest spread out before him. Finally he’d be protected from the wind. He took long strides up the trail into the forest. The visible change in landscape lifted his spirits. He hiked with his head up and a smile on his face until he heard a strange sound up ahead.
He slowed his pace and peered into the forest. Something large and black moved in the shadow of the huge pines. Luke cocked his head to one side. What on earth?
The ball of black suddenly turned and barreled straight for him.
Bear!
Luke raised his hands overhead and started frantically waving and screaming.
“Go away, bear!”
The bear stopped and cocked its head to one side.
“Go on, get lost!”
His heart beat a staccato against the walls of his chest. The tightness in his lungs intensified as the bear rose up on its hind legs. The black bear roared once before dropping down and charging. Every instinct in his body screamed that he should run, but he knew that would only enrage the bear further.
As the bear closed the twenty-yard distance between them, she ran past two cubs which he hadn’t noticed until now. Shit! An enraged momma bear would tear him apart.
He yelled and swung his arms overhead in a last-ditch attempt to ward off the bear. When she pounced on him, all of the air in his lungs exploded as a shrill shriek. He fought back, punching the bear anywhere he could make contact. With one swipe of her huge paw, she knocked him to the ground. He rolled onto his back and kicked at the bear. She clawed a long slit in the side of his shirt, breaking through the top layer of skin, and leaving a bloody trail in her wake.
Determined not to die, he fought back. Kicking, screaming, and clawing at her face, he managed to get a solid hit in on her nose. She jerked back and scrambled toward her cubs. He rolled onto all fours and forced himself to get to his feet.
“Go away!”
The bear and her cubs scrambled back into the forest. As soon as they were out of sight, he collapsed in a heap on the ground. Blood poured from a gash on his arm. If he didn’t stop the bleeding, he’d be a dead man.
He used a bottle of water to wash out the puncture wound. Either her teeth or one of her claws had left a deep laceration in his arm. He quickly opened his medical supply kit and grabbed the antibacterial ointment.
After slathering it over the wound, he grabbed a trauma pad. He wound a strip of sterile, heavy gauze around the pad as tightly as he could. Knowing that he didn’t have much time to spare, he grabbed an Ace bandage and tied it. He used his teeth to pull one end until he was ready to black out from the pain.
He couldn’t stay in the area any longer. The bear could come barreling back onto the trail and finish him off. He groaned as he hoisted his pack over his mangled arm. Sharp bolts of pain grated down his arm. With every step, agony intensified until sweat poured down his back.
He listened intently for any sign of the bear. He didn’t stop hiking for another two miles. When he finally couldn’t take another step, he collapsed at the base of a tree.
Blood soaked the bandages. He gingerly peeled them away to check the flow of blood. It had reduced to a steady trickle. He squeezed the opening of the deepest gash. At over two inches long, it would require stitches.
After grabbing the medical kit, he pulled out a suture kit. In the Navy, he’d been trained to sew stitches on practice dummies. He’d never had to actually use his knowledge in the field. Hopefully he could do it without passing out from blood loss or pain.
He held the threaded needle up to his skin and took a deep breath. It stung worse than a pack of hornets, but he was already drowning in enough pain that a little more didn’t make much difference.
It took ten stitches to close it. He slathered more antibiotic cream over the stitches before digging around for his supply of antibiotics. He’d told his doctor that he wanted to keep a full dose of antibiotics at his cabin in case he wasn’t able to get back to the city. Although his doctor had tried to argue against it, Luke persisted until he finally got a prescription.
He popped one pill and washed it down with a bottle of water. Hungry from the extra exertion of fighting the bear, then fleeing, he dug into his food stash. He found a Snickers bar. The first bite of sugary goodness melted in his mouth.
After devouring it, he followed it with a pack of beef jerky. He’d lost enough blood to be concerning. Without iron from the meat, he’d have a harder time manufacturing red blood cells to replace what he’d lost. The additional salt would help balance his electrolytes.
Beaten and weak, he forced himself to walk another mile before giving up for the day. He couldn’t go farther. He had to be at least three miles away from the bear now. Bears weren’t known for stalking humans. If it had been a mountain lion, he’d be more concerned. But he was probably safe for the night.
After setting up his tarp-tent, he lay on his back. Sleep quickly sucked him into darkness. When he woke up in the middle of the pitch-black night, the sound of heavy panting sent shivers of dread down his spine. He wasn’t alone.
23
Sierra stacked the final pile of firewood behind the shed. She’d been chopping wood for hours and couldn’t wait to be done with her chores. The day-to-day monotony of living without TV, a phone, or internet were wearing on her. She’d been watching the same movies over and over since the day she arrived. There were a few paperback books in the cabin, but nothing she hadn’t already read. Today, she had to do something new or she’d lose her mind.
Although her mom had warned her not to wander off of their property, Sierra ignored the ridiculous rule and headed into the forest. She crossed the stream and scampered up one steep hill before sliding down the next. The shrill squawk of a raven disturbed the quiet peacefulness of the oak forest. A flock of gray doves took flight, beating their wings furiously.
Sierra was so entranced by the birds that she didn’t notice the man standing near a tree about ten yards away.
“Hey there,” he called. “How’s it going?”
As she walked closer, she realized he wasn’t much older than her. Maybe a year or two older.
“Hi,” she said. “What are you doing out here?”
“Gathering acorns.”
He lifted the lid on the picnic basket he carried. A huge pile of acorns shifted under the sudden movement.
“What are you doing with those?”
“Making acorn flour.”
“That’s a thing?”
“Yep. My mom said we can make bread with it.”
“So you’ve done this before?”
“No, but she’s got a book about cooking wild food, so we’re going to try it.”
She plucked an acorn out of the basket and held it up. How was his mom going to turn this into flour? Didn’t flour come from some other kind of plant or something?
“Do you live around here?” he asked.
“Over the hill. You?”
“Down in the canyon.”
“Which one?”
“Silverado.”
“Over by that church?”
“Yeah.”
“Mom says they’re weird over there,” she said.
“A little fire and brimstoney, but the people are nice.”
“Did you always live up here or did you move after the bombs?”
“After the bombs. We lived in Coto De Caza. This is one of our cabins. We’ve got one at Big Bear and another one in Colorado. But my mom says this is the safest option right now since travel is so dangerous.”
“We lived in Foothill Ranch,” she said.
“Nice.”
“Not as nice as Coto.”
He shrugged. “A house is a house. The bigger the house, the more you have to clean it.”
“Your mom made you clean the house?”
“No. We had a live-in housekeeper,” he said. “But she was always cleaning. I kinda felt bad for her.”
“Why?
It was her job.”
“I don’t know. Anyway, I should be heading back.”
“Wait!” She stepped forward and put her hand on his forearm. “Don’t go yet. I haven’t talked to anyone but my family in days.”
“You should come to the church with me. There are a lot of people you can talk to over there.”
“How many people?”
“I don’t know. Thirty maybe? Forty? I haven’t really counted.”
“I probably shouldn’t,” she said. “No one’s supposed to know we’re at the cabin.”
“Where is your cabin?”
She hesitated. He seemed nice, but her mom would kill her if he randomly showed up one day.
“I should get going. Maybe I’ll see you here again one day,” she said.
“We could meet here tomorrow.”
“That would be fun.”
She smiled for the first time in days. Finally, she’d have someone her age she could talk to, and he was kinda cute too. Shaggy brown surfer hair, a deep tan, and bright blue eyes. Not bad. He had some muscles too, especially in his arms. Maybe he’d gotten them from carrying a bunch of acorns around every day.
“See ya,” she said as she turned to walk away.
“Hey, what’s your name?”
“Sierra. Yours?”
“Adam.”
“Nice to meet you. Good luck with the acorn flour.”
“Mom says we can make it into cookies too. I’ll see if she’ll make some and then I’ll bring you one tomorrow,” he said.
“Wow, that sounds awesome. We’ve been eating rice and beans almost every day. I’d be willing to try anything at this point.”
“Hey, do you want to come back to my house with me? Maybe my mom can teach you how to make acorn cookies.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I really should be getting back.”
“Getting back to where?” a deep voice asked.
