"Amy, Abbie, Can you guys design a shelter for us?" I ask, tossing another log on the fire. With Billy being the "injured" one, that made him pretty much useless for now.
"Sure," They say, and walk off to go gather supplies. They come back with some sheets of metal, and I toss them the paracord from our supplies. I sit back, cleaning the water off of my rifle, watching as they build the shelter.
They take some longest branches, and lash them together to make a frame, and cover it with the metal sheets. Placing that up on two higher branches, We now had a roof over our heads. "Hey!" Shouted Abigail. "Idea. Bobby, go get a lot of leaves. Piles of 'em. Richie, take out the trashbags." We do as she said. She takes a pile, and shoves it into a bag. "May I present, improvised sleeping bags!" She says, her voice in an excited tone.
We finish making the five sleeping bags, and Bobby and I hoist some logs up to our shelter to make walls. When we're done, we have a roof, three walls, and a sleeping bag for each of us, with the fire only a few feet away. We're set for the night, and I can still hear the other group somewhere off in the distance yelling about who knows what.
"I'll take first fire shift," I say, going to sit by the fire. "Bobby, I'll wake you up in a couple hours." I stick my bare hand, only covered by my fingerless, wool gloves into the fire, and move a log into a better position for it to burn. I yawn, stretch, and lay on my back, waiting for the hours to go by.
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I wake up, startled by the loud, painful bleating of an animal. I reach for my rifle, and chamber a round, the soft click signaling it's ready to fire. As I walk towards the treeline,the sound grows louder. The same, painful sound of a dying animal.
I turn on the flashlight, and aim it at the ground, looking for any trace of anything that went by. I pick up a blood trail, and bend kneel down, rubbing a spot of the blood. Still fresh. I turn the light off, and follow the trail.
Suddenly, the noise stops. The silence is deafening. Suddenly, I hear the noise of something running off through the leaves. I continue to follow the trail. I reach the end, and look at what I see, shocked. At my feet is a dead mountain goat, its entrails ripped out and thrown on the ground around it, the flesh shredded by what looked like teeth, and the ground around it drenched in blood.
Author's Note: That's all for this update, guys. It's almost one o'clock in the morning, and I'm tired.
YOU ARE READING
The Need for Survival
ActionThis is my first attempt at writing Anything outside of school. In this story, Richard and his friends are taken on a very challenging journey.What starts out as a regular campout, becomes a struggle for survival.
