Prompt: In a
horror-movie type setting, nature fights back (and I'm not talking about the M.
Night Shyamalan movie "The Happening"). You are stuck in the middle
of a forest at night. How do you get out of this predicament and back into
civilization?
The sky is a
clear, deep blue. You’d think that would be enough to perk someone up but it’s
kind of hard to be chipper when you want to murder the person walking in front
of you.
We’ve been
walking for hours and it’s freezing. I mean, ‘Please let the damn woods catch
on fire so that it’s just a little warmer before I burn to death painfully,
thanks’ freezing. Even walking isn’t helping to raise our body heat much. You’d
think, for only being late September, that it wouldn’t be quite so cold in the
mountains yet. Well, unfortunately, it is.
And why am I
traipsing through the damn woods as it gets closer to sundown, freezing my ass
and other vital body parts off, swearing under my breath and glaring daggers at
the back of the moron in front of me? It has something to do with said moron
speeding down a back country road (No, I wasn’t going the speed limit myself.
No one does on these roads. But there’s a difference between speeding and
trying to commit suicide via vehicular collision. Shut up.) and clipping the
edge of my car, sending mine into a tree and his into a ditch.
We’re both
okay, though my neck hurts like a son of a bitch, and we’re miles from any sign
of civilization such as a house. Now I, since I actually grew up about half an
hour from here, wanted to walk the twenty miles along the road to where I knew
it would eventually travel near someone’s house. I don’t like that particular
neighbor (And yes, we use the term rather loosely where I grew up. If we
didn’t, we wouldn’t be able to use the damn word at all.), but I’m not above
calling on someone when I’m stranded in the woods with the wind blowing so
fiercely my nose has gone numb hours ago.
I say hours,
as I’m sure you noticed, because the moron here, who claims to have been hiking
in these woods every week for the past six months, wanted to take a shortcut.
And when I told him to ‘Have fun, see you later, and I’ll send out a search
party eventually,’ he replied that he wouldn’t give me his insurance info
unless I followed him. Apparently, he was worried about me being picked up by
some axe murderer. Trying to ignore the sexist nature of this remark, I asked
him why the hell he wasn’t more worried about the axe murderer who would dare
to piss me off even further than I already was. Having no real good comeback to
this (And when do they ever, really?), he nonetheless insisted that there was a
hunting cabin not all that far from us and whose phone we could use.
Yeah, that went
well. At first, I didn’t really notice, being more interested in my sore neck
and the cold wind getting stronger by the minute, that the idiot had no idea
what he was doing. We were following a light path, and so I figured that it
would slowly deepen and lead us to the cabin. I am not to be blamed for the
idiocy here. And it wasn’t even half an hour later before I caught on. Of
course, this could have something to do with the fact that the path we were on
came out into a small clearing and then vanished.
Not all that
uncommon out here, or in any woods that I’ve been in. Still, it did not endear
me to my fellow traveler, especially not after he pulled out his cell (No,
there’s no reception out here. What, you want me to laugh in
your face?), brought up some kind of compass, and confidently began walking
again, once more leading me to think that he knew what the hell he was doing.
We found another path, kept on it, and then started climbing more uphill than
down. Yay.
I figure it
was about another hour going up and down some hills before we came out high
enough to see clearly all around us. Yep, nothing. Nothing but woods, woods,
some squirrels, a woodpecker somewhere nearby by the sounds, and oh yes, some
more woods. This would be about the time that I, quite calmly as I was slowly
starting to freeze, asked him where in the hell he thought this mysterious
cabin was.
So, we’re
lost, and any sense of direction that I might have been able to salvage in that
initial half hour of our hike is irretrievably lost. I have no idea where in
the hell we are, and unlike some people, I’m not asinine enough to keep that
little nugget of information all to myself. Still, it was barely three in the
afternoon when we started and so I gazed around for any stretch of woods that
looked like there was a man-made line down the side of a mountain or such.
No, of course
I didn’t find anything like that. What I did find was moss growing on the side
of some trees which I concluded meant that direction was north. I then started us
on a southwestern path, knowing that people who are right-handed unconsciously
walk to the right, even when they think they’re going in a straight line, and
so hoping that purposely walking in the opposite direction would eventually get
us back to a semblance of where we were. That, and the direction of the road we should have
used was also that way.
Still, it’s
been a long day and now it might turn into a long night if we don’t find
somewhere before the sun goes down, and the moron is now walking in front of me
with his stupid compass thing (And also as a shield against the wind. A shitty
shield, but better than what he’s getting.), trying to get us out of the mess
he got us into in the first place.
And I’m
trying not to show it, really, but there are all kinds of wild
animals in these woods that I don’t particularly want to run into. Sure,
there’s ones like the squirrels and rabbits and snakes, and other cuties, but I
know for a fact that these woods also house bears, mountain lions, and coyotes,
to name a few. I swear to god, if we stumble across any of those, I’m tripping
the moron and running away while whatever it is takes the easy kill. Every big
outcropping of rock has me eyeing it nervously, hoping to see nothing moving in
their dark mouths. Especially a mountain lion. I’d really rather a bear walk by
than one of them. Bears are quite friendly unless startled. Mountain lions,
like all cats, like to play, and I’m not really interested in being a ‘toy du
jour.’
It’s not
until an owl hoots loudly somewhere nearby (and the moron jumps so badly he
nearly drops his cell) that I know we’re not getting anywhere before dark.
Fucking perfect. The sun’s already mostly down, and it’ll be true dark within
the hour. All I have on is a light jacket, which I’m cursing myself for, and
walking downhill in the dark, in the woods, is something I’m not doing. I don’t
really think adding a broken leg to my list of injuries will help me right now.
Giving up, I start looking around for some kind of shelter. The sun going down
is going to make it at least twenty degrees colder, and I start debating the
merits of trying to light a fire without matches.
It’s just as
the light is going completely, and I still haven’t seen anything decent that
I’m a hundred percent sure isn’t already occupied, that the moron gives a crow
of triumph and runs ahead slightly. For a minute, I think that he might have
actually found the damn road or something. No, of course not. What he’s jogging
to is a little cave that he apparently thinks is too small for a predator to
hide in. And I’ll admit, from the outside it doesn’t look like much, but I know
plenty of small animals that can get nasty when cornered and have no desire to
poke my head in a cave that might house a possum, or a bobcat, or-
Okay, about
twenty minutes of running later, in which I am now in front because I refuse to
stand downwind of that, I think we’re back on track. Yes, you
guessed it, the idiot managed to scare a skunk. Now, it should be said that
skunks are cute and don’t actually smell unless they feel threatened. Poking
your head into their den causes them to feel threatened. And now, even though
I’m upwind and my cheeks are scraped raw from the force, I can still smell the
stench that is ten feet behind me.
I’d feel more
sympathetic if it wasn’t completely dark. And, you know, if I was the type of
person to feel sympathy for morons, which I’m not. No, I’m more inclined to
feel sympathy for those of us unlucky enough to be forced into dealing with the
messes morons leave in their wake. We stop for a few minutes to catch our
breaths. I’m trying to figure out what to do while stamping my feet and keeping
a considerable distance between us.
It takes me a
few minutes to realize that, yes, it is fucking freezing now
and we seriously have to worry about hypothermia, but also that there’s a
significant portion of the moon in the sky. Not full, but more than halfway
there, and with such a clear sky it’s actually getting brighter out again by
the second.
Pleased that
something’s going right for a change, I set off again, ignoring the babbling of
the moron behind me who’s talking about night predators and hidden tree roots
and any number of things. What? Does he want to freeze? Is he having fun out
here? ‘Cause frankly, I have just about had my fill of hiking for, oh, the next
ten years or so. Thankfully, after about five minutes, his voice trails off
into mutterings, and I’m able to listen some more for any sounds of moving
water or traffic (Haha, yeah, I know.).
Our steps
crunch and twigs snap, insects are chirping eerily, birds are calling shrilly,
and it only needs a coyote to howl in the distance to complete the Hollywood
horror film set. Even though we can see fairly well we’re still walking
cautiously when it comes time to go downhill, and it’s a good thing too ‘cause
I actually trip on one of those stupid tree roots and almost tumble down what I
can only guess is a good fifty feet of land and trees, and wouldn’t that have
been fun?
My hands have
been in my pockets the whole time, but they’re still aching down to the bone,
the wind not letting up at all, which is another worry as I know it likely
indicates a storm front coming in during the night. If we have to walk through
freezing rain as well I’m seriously not sure we can make it without huddling up
together. Normally, if my life is on the line I can be persuaded to do so,
moron or not, but another thing most people don’t realize is how badly skunk
spray smells.
They pass a
carcass on the side of the road and they think that it smells bad. Please.
Spray that comes from a live skunk has a smell more effective than mace. It can burn
your eyes right out of their sockets, and even in the open like this, you will
involuntarily throw up if you are near someone or something for more than a few
seconds that’s been sprayed. Yes, the moron had thrown up. Luckily, my shout
when I’d seen the distinctive black and white fur had been enough to get him to
turn his head before the spray had hit his face and so had probably saved his
eyesight.
So, yes,
skunks have the ultimate natural defense in all of nature. Starving predators
don’t dare mess around with them. Only something really stupid, like a dog or a
person, stands there instead of quickly fleeing in the opposite direction.
Cuddling’s
out, even if I could have forced myself to cuddle with such a moron, which only
leaves slowly freezing to death until neither of us can move any further and
then they’ll find his body weeks later. Not mine, ‘cause it’ll get eaten, but
his won’t be touched until the smell goes away. Hence, weeks. At least I don’t
have to worry about being eaten anymore until after I’ve died. No animal is
going to come near him, and therefore me, anymore.
And it’s
probably about an hour later, when I’m seriously thinking about just climbing a
tree and hoping for the best, that something electric kicks on. The sound is
rumbling and high, and it makes me jump from the sudden noise. ‘What the-?’ I
think, trying to place it. Though the panicked shrieking behind me momentarily
cuts off my thoughts.
“Oh my god,
it’s a chainsaw, and we’re going to stumble across a cabin that’s going to be
filled with cannibals and they’re going to slowly chop us up and eat us and
we’re going to die!”
I blink,
completely nonplussed, and listen to him hyperventilate for another minute or
two. I’m tempted to slap him, or punch him, or just hit him repeatedly, but
that would entail getting closer. And besides, I finally figure out the sound
and almost let out a crow of victory. Instead, I give the moron a scathing look
and turn back around, heading as fast as I can toward the sound of the
generator in the distance, no longer caring if I trip over any more tree roots
and certainly not caring if the moron actually follows me or not. Nope, I’m
done for today. Besides, out here where I’m from? Where there’s a generator,
there’s liquor, and I feel that I’ve more than earned my own bottle or two.
