FALL

[random images in my head that I just jotted down this morning]

The fall leaves blew in, swept slowly into the cave where he had gone to escape. He had been there for perhaps 3 or 4 nights, he couldn't remember.
It was very cold, and damp, but not unbearable. There was no snow in this part of the world generally, just cold, damp and rain. Occasional frost.

He had left his home due to an increasing sense of pressure, coming from 'the outside world,' that is, society, finance, culture and mankind in general.

Anyone who knew of his exodus (he told perhaps 2 people so that no one would look for him and bother him), laughed at him and told him he was crazy. 'There is no societal collapse coming! You're nuts! The markets are the best they have ever been, unemployment is down, and I am even paying less taxes! Why the hell are you selling your house and cutting and running? Running from what?'

He had to agree, at face value, that there was nothing wrong. He had a fine job, some money saved, he wasn't starving, and his health and community were if anything, at least average. But still, he couldn't escape this nagging feeling that it was all going to POP! sometime soon.

This feeling of pressure weighed heavily on his psyche and his spiritual life.

He had often felt he had some kind of intuition stronger than his contemporaries.

So it was, he gathered everything he owned into a large pack, cash and supplies included, sold his house, and trekked off into the wilderness near the town.

There in the wooded mountains, one cold wet morning, he awoke in his sleeping bag suddenly as he heard a loud explosion. It sounded like it came from the edge of the town.

He ran his hand along his grizzly face, grabbing his rifle, pack and canteen and ran out of the cave to see what he could see. There was a large plume of black smoke coming from the edge of the forest, perhaps 15 kilometers on the horizon, framed in by mountains and pine trees. He thought perhaps a gas station had exploded.

Just then another explosion occurred farther away, which he could not see, but it echoed off the granite hills in small successions, in small pops. Then a tiny plume of smoke. Perhaps a power plant?

Overhead, coming from his 8 o'clock, suddenly 2 jets roared by, extremely loud and low. They were painted a dull dark green. 'Not ours...' he mumbled.

He ensured his traces had been swept and he made his way deeper into the mountains.

The sky was darkening and it was going to rain soon.

a reply to: chris_stibrany

Keep Going!

Cheers

OK i Try
bits and pieces day by day
thanks for reading

a reply to: F2d5thCavv2

a reply to: chris_stibrany

Cool writing.

Reminds me of projects I need to get back to.

Fall time gives us so much cool stuff to write about.

So does anomie I guess, and that's why I'm on ATS.

Keep doing it!

a reply to: DictionaryOfExcuses

Ok one more splurt for today. Can't push it I don't want to dilute the 'juices' lol:





It had been perhaps a week since he had gone deeper into the mountains. His rations were running low, and as for ammo, he had maybe 50 rounds (.300) as he wanted to travel light. He had some jerky, nuts, crackers and 2 or 3 MREs left.

As for water, he had gotten a ceramic pump filter bottle which had been working marvelously. He also had some purification tablets for back up.

He hadn't found a cave to hunker down in, but he was in a very narrow gorge. It was perhaps only a little over a meter wide, and the harsh rock sides towered up, covered by bits of moss and shrubs for about 20 meters in height on

either side. The gorge went back into the mountain-side for a ways, about 20 meters and then ended in a dead-end. He had gathered sticks, and larger boughs from the trees around to make a roof, and lined it with needles and leaves.

He thought if any trouble came he could climb up the walls, but he wasn't sure. In the meantime, he placed bushes and rocks at the entrance and it was fairly camouflaged.

a reply to: chris_stibrany

Enjoying your story, please continue when you can.

Good news is I am going to a cabin for my wedding anniversary for two nights in the mountains this weekend so maybe it will provide some inspiration when I have time besides the hot tub lol

a reply to: Night Star

a reply to: chris_stibrany

Happy Anniversary Chris! We can be patient.

I am sorry if it's getting weak I am doing my best. I am seeing a lovely mountain out my window. It's a nice cabin:



*

The sunset against the mountains was calming.

He was with his back up against the hard sharp granite under his shelter. He could see through the twigs, the golden light cascading against the pines and rock. He was alone but he was calm.

‘At least I am not down there with the idiots,’ he thought.

He still had no inkling about what was going on. But he knew he was safe. He was hungry, cold, and tired, but he was tranquil.

**


SLAM

Stars.
Pain.

Wet.

Ache.

‘GET UP!’

There was a voice screaming at him.

He clutched his head and swayed.
Everything was spinning.

His throat clutched. He knelt down.
He felt a blow to his back and fell to his face into the loam.

‘It smells good.’ He thought. ‘Earth-‘ OW

He felt a kick into his back.

He finally stood up and looked into the other human. It was a smallish man but tough. He seemed perhaps Turkish or Chinese. He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t really travelled much.. This man wasn’t American or white. Which was fine, he thought. Maybe he could reason with him.

He felt arms behind his and looked around. There were 2 or 3 soldiers of foreign extraction holding him up looking both bored and sickened (by his weakness?).
He was being held up.

He looked forward with more focus. This was some kind of noncom or perhaps a newly minted officer. His boots and uniform were fairly clean. What was going on..

They shoved him in the knees and he marched forward.

One of the soldiers took his pack, rifle and gear and he was lead out of the gorge.


It was a steep slope that he recalled. Wet pine needles met his boots and he slipped a bit in the mud. His ‘wardens’ held him up and he finally snapped out of his stupor.

‘WHO ARE YOU!!?’ there was nothing but laughing and some foreign tongue.

They led him down not to his old site, but more to the south and by an unfamiliar creek. He spied through the trees some vehicles off in the distance, perhaps 10 clicks down. He recalled that there was an old logging road which had been unused minus some rare hikers for at least 50 years. Perhaps they had spied it from satellites.

After around 30 minutes through the trees and mud they arrived to a tiny convoy of personnel carriers and a ‘one tonne’ truck with no soldiers but mostly empty with some crates.

‘Who are these goons?’ he thought to himself through his aching head.

a reply to: chris_stibrany

It's not getting weak, it's getting interesting.

Unfriendly newcomers. When the goons marched him into their camp, was he taken to the stockade? Did he see anyone he knew?

a reply to: DictionaryOfExcuses

I am brainstorming where to go next...

a reply to: F2d5thCavv2

I felt like revisiting this.

a reply to: DictionaryOfExcuses

Next installment. Found it on my desktop:



Lazily, they shoved him up onto the one ton and one guard stood with what looked like a Chinese AK. He had been so groggy from the beating that he hadn't looked at their uniforms much before, but it was definitely CHICOMS. Not cheesy

impotent Communists, unfortunately.

Well, so much for his 'self survival plan,' He sat there with aching body and felt blood trickle down his neck. He hoped his head wasn't grossly injured, as he had a definite bad headache. Question was, why even leave him alive?

Did they think he knew something special, just because he was out there alone?