Cold… It seemed to be all that was on His mind anymore. The blistering, painful, cold. He winced at the burning sensation of the snow brushing against the premature frostbite beginning to take from on his legs. "Just a little farther" the Man murmured, glancing up to check his bearings; the first thing that was noticeable was the blinding white. It did not faze him, the young adult had long become used to this color. The next thing that could be observed was the blizzard that had came seemingly from nowhere and whipped snow into the strangers face. Lastly, through the snow, He could see a small cabin; the place that He had called "Home" for the last year. Trudging on farther, he found that the closer he got to the cabin; the faster he began to walk. 'Certainly because I'm so cold' he thought. Finally reaching the small lodge, he struggled to pull the door open; the snow that had accumulated in front of it fighting against it. The snow gave, falling away and letting the door swing open. The man slipped inside pulling the door shut behind him; sealing himself away from the storm.
[1]
"Ungh, Finally…" The man groaned sitting into an old recliner, a fire roaring in an old brick fireplace in front of him. After a few minutes of rest, He got up and began removing his coat, followed by his first layer of clothing. As he hung them up to dry he sighed 'Hopefully these will dry quick, it's going be cold tonight because of the blizzard.' Shivering at the thought he finished hanging up his snow pants. He shuffled around in his backpack, a nice hiking pack he had kept from before the cold had invaded. "Ah, there it is" He casually pulled out a can of Tomato Soup, along with a rust can opener. He cringed at the sound of metal cutting metal as he opened the can. Without a pot to cook the soup in, he opted to just cook it in the can. A half an hour later, he was finishing up the soup, noting that he had over cooked it a little; he set the empty can to the side. He looked at the mass of cans in the corner of the room, wondering if he really needed to keep another. He decided it was for the best, just in case he needed some emergency metal for something. Stoking the fire one last time, He decided it was time to get some sleep; tomorrow would be a long day, he needed to go out and collect more wood. Slumping into bed, He pulled up the covers, attempting to contain all his body heat. Slowly sleep crept its way to his mind, and soon the only sound was the slight crackle of the fire.
Slowly, he rose from his bed; stretching out the knots from his stiff limbs. 'Another dreamless night' He noted. "I haven't had a dream in quite a while" he murmured to nobody "There isn't much to dream about anymore I suppose." Glancing over to his clothes he was pleasantly surprised they looked completely dry. "Good" he walked over to the winter attire and began putting them on. Before heading out he decided to eat some of his beef jerky. "Mm" He said half heartedly, He had always enjoyed the treat. He could recall many hikes with his father that ended with a nice snack of beef jerky. 'Heh, I remember when I hiked for fun. Now I'm forced to do it…' Slipping on his pack, he quickly headed out the door wanted to get an early start. Upon Stepping outside, he was surprised to find it was actually a nice day, well... a nice day compared to most since the cold came. "It couldn't be much colder than 10 degrees." He said with a ghostly smile. Heading into the forest he began scouting for a nice tree. As he walked he began to think about what his plans could be for the next few days, He always liked to keep busy. It helped him keep his troubles behind him, the bad memories locked away; He vowed he wouldn't ever mention them again. It hurt too much.
'This one will be perfect' He though happily. In front of him was a tree, not to big or small, and it was cedar, so it would burn nicely without being too heavy. Swing one of his hatchet barley broke the bark, but the man was determined. Swing two cut very nicely into the tree, three and four sliced him almost all the way through. One last swing and… "Timber!" He yelled to himself chuckling. The tree crashed to the ground with a muffled thud from the snow, which was stirred and plumed into the air. 'Okay time to get to work' He shuffled in the snow over to a nice point in the tree and began cutting; He would need to section off bits of the trunk small enough to fit in the fire place. After about two hours he was done, and began loading the logs onto a Piece of plywood that was attached to a rope, acting as a makeshift bobsled so he could carry all the logs back at once. Once they were all loaded he started the tiring process of dragging the logs back to his cabin. It was his least favorite part and it normally left him exhausted. Finally back to his Shelter he went inside and started a fire. The musty smell of the old wood was quickly consumed by the smell of smoke and charcoal. Grabbing his backpack, He began rummaging around searching for a can of beans he had collected from a trailer a few days back. As he reached for the can he realized something was off. 'Where is my hatchet..?'He groaned "Ugh crap, of course! I had to leave it back there, now I have to go all the way back and get it!" He quickly made his way out the door.
It was snowing now, but nothing to be nervous about; just a flurry. He searched the forest for the tree stump; his hatchet had to be nearby. Luckily the snow hadn't completely filled-in his foot prints, so he followed them back to the sight. Taking a quick glance around the area he noticed he couldn't see his hatchet, "Oh great, I hope the snow hasn't covered it." He whined, looking for any color in the white bed beneath him. That's when he noticed something, something very unsettling, so unsettling that it made his heart skip a beat. "What the-"He began, starring at foot prints leading in the opposite direction. The problem was, they weren't his. His mind became flooded with different thoughts, up until now he had thought he was the only person left alive. "This can't be real…" He stuttered, trying to decide what to do next. Clearing his mind he decided to freak out more later and focus on the task at hand. It was clear to him now that whoever had come here had taken his hatchet, and that made him mad. Without putting much thought into it he began following the foot prints. 'This is dumb and dangerous, you don't know what you're getting yourself into' he tried to warn himself with little success.
After walking for what seemed like forever, the man began to get tired, almost dozing off at some points. 'The snow really does sap the energy right out of ya' he thought feeling annoyed. He was about to give up and turn back when he noticed a small plume of smoke coming from the other side of a hill. Being re-determined he trudged up the hill and took a look at the first sign of other people he had seen in an entire year. It seemed like a small camp, three trailers close to each other, surrounded by what seemed like a makeshift fence, built by rusty sheets of metal. He quickly realized that there was probably at least three people in that camp, and if they weren't friendly; well, he probably wouldn't stand a chance. He quickly decided that approaching the camp was probably not a good idea. As much as it pained him to have to leave the first people he had seen in a long time, it was for the best. He sighed and began to stand up, but felt something horribly cold and smooth on his neck. His breath ran cold when he realized it was the end of a gun.
"What's your name?" a raspy voice asked from behind, forcefully with little hesitation.
"T-Todd" the man stammered.
~Authors Note~
Not really sure what to say here haha, This is my first story, so tell me what you think I guess xD
Next chapter out soon.
