When The Days Turn Cold

Chapter Two

I wake to the heaviness of icy air. There is a breeze blowing and I don't like it. It's rustling through the leaves, surrounding the bark and chilling me right to my bones. I roll up the sleeping bag and attach it to the backpack, and jump down. I keep the blanket scarf, because today is not the day I want to succumb to the bitter weather. I'm thankful for the sleeping bag, because I'm sure I wouldn't be breathing right now without it. At my luckiest I could have been lying in fetal position, shivering.

I start walking again. The trees have started thinning, going orange, but not from Autumn, but the drought that has hit most of everywhere. Lack of water does that to trees, stripping it of it's green colour that we've all grown up looking at and turning it into a dull orange. The need for survival does the same thing to humans, it changes the way you think, the way you look, the things you want and the people you need.

Right now, it doesn't matter what designer clothes you have, whether or not your boyfriend is hot, or how popular you are. The only thing that matters is that your heart is beating, and most of your limbs are functioning. I'm lucky to be alive. People shouldn't have been taking their lives for granted before the cold hit, because the right to grow old has been taken away from so many.

I continue along the gravelly road. I know that somewhere over the next hundred kilometres is a forest. I might find animals in there which I can hunt. I've given up on the cities, they're wiped clean, and there are too many bodies. I swear I see a movement a couple of meters off the edge of the road. I halt, and I stare into that direction. I see nothing. Nothing stirs. Something blurs in my vision. It's like a greyish- brown against a completely raw umber dirt. It's a rabbit. One of the rabbits that plagued the country.

It's leaping at a fast pace, and I chase it keeping my steps as light as possible. While I'm running I grope my knife out of the side pocket of my backpack. I throw the neon orange cover -out of all the colours why orange?- onto the ground. The second I'm close enough I bring my arm back, and flip the knife forward so it impales the back of the rabbit. It stops in it's path and stops struggling. Dead.

I prise the knife out trying to do minimum damage. I really don't want to ruin the meat. Picking up the rabbit and the murder weapon I go back to look for the cover. I search the ground with my eyes. You would think something so orange would stick out. I considered just sticking the blade into my backpack but without the cover it would just shrew everything up.

I almost give up until my foot trips over something. I land on palms and knees and all I want to do is curse my useless reflexes. With a grunt I balance myself back onto my feet. I look behind to locate the object that tripped me and I see the cover. How does a cover trip someone? I did want to find the cover but not like this. I slide the blade into the cover and place it back into the pocket of my bag.

I need to start a fire to cook the meat, I don't favour dying from stomach poisoning. Not today. From surrounding tress I gather twigs, and branches. I get on my knees and dig a shallow hole and dump the wood in there. It looks like a landfill made out of twigs. Before starting the fire I take out my hunters knife,  bring out the rabbit and start skinning it. It's a gruesome task but it needs to be done. I peel the meat away from the fur, skin and bones. I don't like this, not one bit.

I unzip my bag and take out my lighter, flick the switch, and bring it near the wood. The wood kindles and I watch the fire burn and dance. I watch the flames lick the air. Gladly, the fire isn't too tall. I take the meat, skewer it onto another long stick, and hold it over the fire. As I watch the flames, I get bored, very bored. But I get bored every single minute of the day. It would be nice to have company.  I take out my bottle of water and take a long gulp. I haven't drank in a long time.

After the flesh is cooked, I tear a bit off and dump the rest into my backpack. I don't both taking out the fire, because I'm not very keen on wasting my water, and I don't think a bush fire is going to affect anyone. While slowly chewing on the meat, I make my way down the gravel path. I need to head up north, so I can get to the equator where it is warmest

It must be sometime in the afternoon. It's been a couple of hours since I've been walking, and I need to sit. I spot a sturdy tree and start walking towards it. I hear a hiss and come to a standstill. Infront of me is a snake I identify as a red-bellied black snake.

Authors note: I hope you like this, and I will update very soon. x