The walk was long as it was cold. He'd grown tired of it after the wind picked up. He could only think that he wasn't from the region simply due to a natural adjustment to warmer climates. Or maybe he simply needed a coat. He could care less at the moment. All he knew was that his head was still aching and the feeling from his extremities were fading along with daylight. Shelter would be the only solution to his current plight. He found himself checking his map more often than needed and this time it was no different. The map marker was still two and a half miles away and the city itself even farther. He muffled a few curses under his breath as he came to a slow halt to survey the white landscape around him. Nothing...

Of course, rest was the last thing on his busy mind but it sounded better than freezing in the dark out in the middle of nowhere. And even then, he still didn't know where 'nowhere' was. Mustering the last bit of will he could muster he treaded on down the snow covered road that lay ahead of him, all the while keeping a quick and steady pace both with his feet and his thoughts. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left.

His heavy steps ground and crunched the snow under his feet to the point he even focused on them as a beat. Pulling his hands up instinctively under each arm he began to sing a song under his breath.

"Well, I'm changing all my strings," his deep voice began followed a quick sniff, "I'm gonna write another travelin' song, about all the million highways, and the cities at the break of dawn," his head gently bobbed to the melody in his mind as he continued to sing a little louder, "I guess all I can do now is pretend that I've done nothing in wrong," as soon as the verse escaped his lips, the sound of cracking tree limbs sounded out behind him. He turned just fast enough to witness a heap of powder from a broken tree limb hit the ground at its trunk. He paused for a minute reaching for the pistol from his bag, instantly sliding open the chamber to find all six of them loaded and ready. Who ever they could be would surely be crazy or stupid to stalk a man with a loaded weapon, surely. His eyes returned to the area for a brief moment, scanning for any sign of movement or life that would somehow seem like a threat. Though, he doubted anything would be out in this weather other than himself and after a few seconds his nerves were at ease but his body remained alert as he finished the jingle and continued down the road, "And think about a train that's gonna take me back where I belong."

Another quarter mile down the snow covered road showed promise. And old run down house stood alone off the side of the road despite the gaping hole in the top of the roof. An old broken picked fence surrounded the front end of the property and the mailbox was still intact. The shack beckoned him and a reluctant smile curved his lips as he hastened his pace toward the old house, a jump in his step. He chuckled aloud as he scaled the small fence with a bound which quickly turned into a grunt as he caught himself on the other side, nearly slipping on a frozen slab of ice. But even with such a close call he regained himself and leaped onto the shacks wood plank porch and without a thought, grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and entered.

The home was dormant, there was not a single sign of dwelling to be seen, only remnants of the owners who lived there before. Family portraits covered in dirt and dust hung crooked on the walls. An old coat hanger stretched across the floor. The couches retained all of their cushions and the rocking chair had even kept its dark wood stained paint. Everything was practically still in the place that it was left. The young man then turned his attention a quite large tree limb jutting out from the ceiling, allowing snow to float gently onto the living room floor. The obvious reason for the giant hole in the roof and the only flaw to the entire structure. There was no use in attempts to fix the roof, he knew it would be only time consuming so he directed his primary thoughts on heat.

His eyes searched the room for basic fuel. The rocking chair would suffice, he thought. Next would be starter. The stuffing in the couches throw pillows would work. He made is way to the chair and, without wavering, threw a left boot directly in the center of the seat, shattering the dry rotted wood into pieces. After gathering what was left of the chair he stacked them accordingly in the fireplace and began to rip open a well decorated pillow from the couch. He stuffed the cotton under a few pieces of wood and reached into his pack and pulled out his metallic lighter. He struck it once. No flame. He struck it again. Nothing. Of course, it would be his luck to have a lighter that doesn't light. His jaw clinch as his anger grew, throwing the lighter across the room and shattering a picture on the wall.

He could only shake his head at the ridiculous situation. His eyes jumped around the room searching for anything that could pull a flame... Until. He quickly reached into the leather satchel and pulled out the box of ammunition. He slid the box open and selected one bullet with two fingers and proceeded to hold the lead end with his teeth and pried the casing away. The end result was gun power. He hunched himself over the firewood and gently sprinkled the resin onto the cotton stuffing before running for his lighter and after a few simple strikes, the fire was lit and warming the room.

About and hour passed and the fire was dying. Night had fallen and he was beginning to get hungry. Seeing how he couldn't remember when the last time he had eaten, he decided to search the home for any signs of food. The kitchen was the natural first choice. He looked in the fridge only to be met with disappointment though the cupboard showed some promise. An untouched can of pork n' beans was found hiding in a corner of a high shelf. He returned to the living room and set the can close to the flame to warm the contents and began to collect limbs from the dead branch in the living room. His luck was improving...

After diner was done he found himself drifting off. Taking a large duster from one of the rooms closets he used it as a blanket as he laid there staring into dancing flames in the fireplace. He had spent much of the time trying to remember anything that would bring light to his nonexistent past. He surely thought the memories would surface but the day had worn on and nothing came to mind... Except the song. He played it through his mind over and over. His conclusion was simply that he knew the song almost by heart, but couldn't recount where he had heard it. But now it was time to rest up for the deay ahead and what ever it had to bring.

"You... You bastard!"

"The only bastard here is you, boy. You have no idea what lies ahead for this sanctuary!"

"I know enough to acknowledge you're a psychopath. These people will never stand for it!"

"Oh, they will and so will the rest of the world... Start the extraction!... Soon you will not exist... And I will live another lifetime!"

"NOOO!"

The Engineer sat strait up from a dead sleep. His mind frantic with fear and anger but what for? He turned to find a motionless woman crouched over the fireplace with a thick limb in her hand, her face shadowed by her long red locks that fell to the floor. He glared at the woman as she sat still as stone, her grip tightening around the stick. The man rubbed his eyes to affirm what he was seeing—a half naked woman only covered by animal hide and dirt while feeding the fire. Their eyes locked for a long minute. He dared not make a move afraid she would catch him unprepared. His satchel laid on the floor on the other side of the fireplace. Two feet away from her. His heartbeat grew in his ears as the moments went on. She hadn't moved a single muscle, almost as if he hadn't seen her at all.

Finally, he forced himself to attempt to speak but before he made out a single word she had bolted for the door faster than anything known to him. He jumped to his feet and rushed for the door to watch her vanish into the snow with only her bare feet, "Come back," he yelled out into the cold night, "You're going to freeze out there!" She never turned back but he waited anyway. His eyes shifted through the night for the figure of the woman for hours but there was no signs of life out in the blistering cold night. The man had even waited until morning and still, no evidence of the lone woman. She was gone to simply put it. Then the thought sunk in, she could have killed you. But she didn't and that in itself said something to him. Who ever she was, she was following him and the reasons didn't weigh correct with him. Perhaps she knew him? If so she would have spoken to him, at least. The occurrence didn't make sense but then again he had time to dwell on the matter. The sun was rising and he had to make it to Portland before the next night... If he was even alive that long.