Flight CX124

[xanna]

CN: some swearing, death

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[xanna]

I need to think, and when I need to think I text you. But I can't text you. So I'm writing the old-fashioned way and pretending it's to you.

I don't know how to start. I've been staring at this page for something like 20 minutes.

Do you know already? The plane crashed. What a sentence. My plane crashed. You must know, it must be on the news in Europe. It gets on the news when that happens, even on the other side of the world. And anyway, you will have tried to find out when I didn't text you from the rental place.

Oh god, the scanner, the flight-tracker. You'll have seen it, maybe. Oh my god. That must've been... I don't know what that must have been like.

I'm... OK? I'm alive, anyway. Hi! I don't feel good, but I'm not injured that I know of. Right now I'm warm and I found somewhere indoors. I wish I could tell you, "I'm alive! Here I am!" I wish I could beam that knowledge to you.

I don't know how long it's been, I don't actually know what day it is for sure.

I need to think.

[xanna]

I remember getting on the plane and I remember seeing the mountains out of the window. It was just still light enough to see, and we even had the Northern Lights doing a show for us. I had the row to myself, there weren't many people on board. Then I don't remember. I don't remember an explosion or turbulence or anything. I remember it was quiet, then screaming.

I woke up in my seat, that was this morning.

[xanna]

I'm going to write everything that happened, to try and clear my head.
 

I woke up in my seat, but my seat was wrong. When I opened my eyes, everything looked wrong, everything was tipped up at an unnatural angle, and my stomach lurched just to look at it. After a second of nothing while my brain engaged, a few things raced across my mind, one after another:
1. I am cold, very cold, there's a strong wind coming from behind me.
2. There are no other people, I can't see anyone. There are birds nearby very loud, but no people noise, no machinery noise.
3. This isn't a dream.

When I turned in my seat, the back of the plane... wasn't there, it was just gone. The wind was blowing through because the fuselage was ripped in half, opened up like a tin of beans. Beyond it was snow, and sky.

I shouted, "Help! Medic! Anyone! Hello! Over here!" but my voice was shaky and weak. The words seemed to dissipate before they could go very far.

I grabbed my bag from under the seat in front and pulled on my hat and gloves, noticing as I did that my fingers were purple and blue. There was nothing else in my bag but my phone (dead), a chocolate bar, an empty can of nuts from the airport, and a matchbook from the hotel. I stuffed my travel pillow and blanket in and got up.

I managed to make my way down the cabin, steadying my balance on the fun house floor. I felt stiff and achy, but no sharp pains. When I jumped down onto the ground, I sank two inches into snow. The birds were noisy, but I cupped my hands to my mouth and shouted "Help!" a few more times. There was snow everywhere, so bright. As my eyes adjusted to it I started to make out other jagged shapes, other parts of the plane, but no buildings, no road. I walked round the aircraft to the nose, past where the wing should be, but it had been ripped off and was nowhere to be seen.  The nose was sticking out over a steep cliff down, a terrifying drop. We're on a mountaintop, I thought. Did we hit it? Is that what happened? Did we fly into a mountain? There were trees all around, but burnt and black, some little more than long shards of charcoal jutting up out of the ground. There must have been a hell of a fire. Is that how I managed to keep from freezing till now?

Walking back away from the edge I saw something and suddenly understood why there were so many birds, so loud and just circling in the air. The realisation hit me like a truck and I fell to the ground and vomited. There were bodies on the ground. People, blue and frozen, half-covered in snow, and attracting crows. Of course I scrambled towards someone, but there was nothing I could do, I was far, far too late.

If I don't want to join them, I thought, I've got to get out of here. Get help. Get somewhere. Get WARM. Priority one was not freezing to death. I didn't even have a coat, that was in my pack in the hold. Or it was, before the plane was torn in two. It could be anywhere now. What the fuck was I going to do?

The overhead lockers! I ran back round the fuselage and pulled myself in over the torn and jagged metal. I searched through every bag I found and took anything that might be useful. A bottle of icy water, a long scarf, a woolly hat, skiing gloves.

The wind was fierce, even inside the plane. I tried the flight deck door, but couldn't open it. I needed to go, find somewhere sheltered to make a fire. And something to burn. I clambered back out, into the snow, but this time I was more focussed and saw there were more bags and cases out here, too. And food! There were trays and trays of airline food just sitting on the snow. Every now and then I shouted "Is anyone there? Hello!" but no response. It was pretty obvious now I was alone up here.

[xanna]

The wreckage was scattered over a huge area, and everywhere there were more bodies. I found the pilot in her uniform and got another bad jolt in the gut. I searched through bags like a shopper in the sales, grabbing anything that might fit. A hoodie, a pair of heavy combat trousers I could pull on over my jeans, a coat, and a waterproof jacket that could fit over it. I took the biggest bag I could find, too, a huge sturdy rucksack pretty similar to the one I'd spent €200 on and didn't expect to see again. I stuffed it with the airline food, some cans of pop I found, and some spare socks.

The screeching of crows was really starting to get to me, I needed to get away where I couldn't hear them. They were the sound of death and disaster and nothing good could happen while they were still overhead. I decided to blame the crows for everything. I screamed and swore and ranted at them, and honestly I think it helped. By the time I was yelling "Why did you crash my plane, you feathery fuckers?!" it was almost funny, in a macabre way. I felt a little lighter, and could think a little clearer.

Down was my destination. Anywhere is better than a bloody mountaintop. There was what looked like a path down by the cliff, but the crash had knocked down a couple of big trees and they and the aeroplane's remaining wing and engine blocked it completely. I tried to climb over, but it was no good - too high, too icy, and tangled up with jagged metal, too. But through the trees I spotted the door of the aircraft hold, slightly ajar. The door opens onto the path! I climbed back into the cabin for - god willing - the last time, dropped into the empty hold through the torn-up floor, and with some effort pushed open the door from inside.

The path looked like it continued down the mountain but glancing around I spotted something in the other direction that looked like a building! A little wooden house! Sprinting towards it, I got a better look and it was obvious it was derelict. Still, though, a house! A people building! The area was flat and not too rocky; if there was one there might be more. As I kept walking, two more came into view. I tried to keep hopeful and positive, but... they were derelict too. Did the plane crash wreck them? No, the damage didn't seem recent. They didn't look inhabited, more abandoned. What if this whole place was abandoned? Honestly, for the first time, I just wanted to curl up and cry. My tears would probably freeze.

Get it together, don't give up. I remembered what you always tell me "If you fail, you fail, but what if you win?" What if I win? What if I make it? Trying to be practical I searched around the ruins and found some evidence of life at least: a first aid kit, bright red against the snow. There wasn't much in it, and the case was too bulky for my bag, but I grabbed what there was inside. I thought of the first aid kit I had in my luggage. I was so proud of it, remember? You called me a weird nerd for how much I enjoyed reading up on everything I might need. It has tourniquets and aluminium splints and space blankets and everything my training guy had recommended. Now I have a bandage and some antiseptic.

I kept going, but there were no more buildings before I hit a rocky wall again. I turned back towards the path down, cursing that I'd wasted precious minutes on this dead end. I was really getting cold now, despite being bundled up in all the clothes I found (dead people's clothes, I thought, then immediately tried not to). A space blanket would be good right now. And a cup of tea. No, a pot of tea. And a plate of stew from Quinn's. Then I saw something by the last ruined house that I'd missed before: a cellar door! The kind at an angle that opens outwards, like at my parents' old house. Please god, let it be something.

It took more strength than I thought I had to pull it open. It wasn't locked, but swollen in the frame and frozen shut. When it finally gave way I almost toppled backwards, but steadied myself and cheered, "YES!" The first few steps were icy and I had to be careful, but further down everything was dry. Some high windows gave dim light. A small basement utility room with a washing machine and... not much else, but it's WARM. Actually warm. And I can't hear the crows or the wind any more. And that's where I am now, in the basement of an abandoned, derelict, one-room wooden house. Alive.

[xanna]

I desperately want to charge my phone. It shouldn't be dead, I had it plugged in on the plane, and it was in flight mode so should last days. There were no power lines outside, but the basement obviously has electricity since there's a washer, a dryer and a fridge-freezer in here. There's some big tanks in the corner so I guessed that's a generator? I rooted around the appliances for a socket, but the power is dead, and I honestly have no idea how to make the generator work. I tried a few obvious-looking controls, but it remained ornamental only. I kept reaching for my phone to google things to try, like a fool. Classic chicken and egg problem. It was a vain hope to find electricity in a ruin like this, but I had to give it a go. I'll just have to hope for somewhere with power further down the mountain towards whatever counts as civilisation here.

But first, sleep. I am warm, as I said, but still shivering. I got close to hypothermia, I think, and I'm probably in shock. There's no way I'm going outside again until I feel better and the wind has died down. Sleep will be the best thing, but when I arranged my travel blanket and pillow into the best makeshift bed I could, I just couldn't sleep. Too much adrenaline I guess? And honestly too many horrors whenever I closed my eyes. I had a long, loud cry.

Searching for tissues, I found this notebook and pen in the front pocket of the rucksack I stole. It has helped a lot to write things down. I'm having something to eat and then I'll try to sleep again. I'm eating chocolate and drinking something called Summit Soda which I can't figure out the flavour of. It's sort of fruity and quite nice.

Night night.

Edited January 19, 2023 by xanna

[xanna]

Not sure how long I slept. If I were a better sort of adventurer I'd have made a note of the position of the sun and all that, but oddly enough didn't think of that when I was running for my life to escape freezing to death. There's no clock in here. I wish I had Mam's wind-up watch still, but it seemed too delicate to bring on a camping trip. Anyway, still plenty of light coming through the window.

I'm feeling better. The bed was quite cosy in the end. All that practice sleeping on the floor of Irish Ferries has paid off here. I'm not shivering any more and I feel calmer. My fingers are a healthier colour, too. Pounding headache, but there was another medical kit in here which had some painkillers in it so I hope they kick in soon. Also in here was an axe and a couple of pieces of firewood, and I've stowed them away in my pack. I shouldn't be too short of firewood, there's lots of dead trees and with strong winds that should mean lots of branches on the ground, but I'm grateful to have some ready to burn so I don't have to hunt outside too long. Night is going to be cold so I'll stock up with what I find on the way. Didn't find much else in here. The dryer was full of bedsheets, but I did find a pair of socks in there too. They look warmer than the ones I have. Yoink.

OK, I've poked my head out and the wind has eased off quite a bit. I can't keep putting this off, or it'll get colder again. Time to get going.

[xanna]

I followed the path I saw from the plane and it did lead me down the mountain. There were more ruined cabins on the way, not little houses like on the ridge, but more like small shed-sized things. It did make my heart sink to see more ruins. There was a hunting blind, too, which was kinda cool. Not much use to me, but I had a quick look out of curiosity and found a knife there. Pretty sharp and a good all-rounder, and I'm lucky to have it, but obviously I'd rather have mine. Yes, I'm still whining about my lovely lost gear.

Everything is covered in snow, I can't describe how white everything is and how thickly laid the snow is everywhere. I found a road, but it would have been so easy to miss. The only indication was higher banks of snow in parallel, trailing around. I felt so much safer once I saw it, though it kept disappearing into the rest of the snow, making me panic and backtrack. After a couple of hours (?) of hiking, the snow thinned in places enough for me to actually see the tarmac and then everything was easier.

There's a river here, I walked across a bridge over it. It stems from a waterfall not too far away, close enough for it to be roaring away quite loudly as I stood on the bridge, but the river itself is frozen over.

It's still fecking cold. I found a cave at one point and thought about stopping to build a fire inside, but I decided against in favour of pushing on down the road. There was a dead deer by the cave, which was a bit grim. It looked like it had been attacked by an animal rather than hunted by a person.

Then I found a car! I couldn't get it started, obviously, I wouldn't know how. Wishing I paid more attention in my hot-wiring and car-thieving classes now. It was unlocked though, and I sat inside and rested for a bit all wrapped up in my blanket and ate one of my airline meals. There was a flare on the dashboard, the sort you hold in your hand for light, not the sort you shoot in the air. I'm in full-on 'take anything that might be useful' mode now, so I took it, it might be useful. I don't feel too bad about it when things are obviously abandoned like this. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.

The car was at a T-junction, but one way was completely blocked off by fallen rocks, a landslide. This place might be near where those earthquakes were. Maybe that's why those buildings were derelict? The other way continued round and down. I feel like I'm piecing clues together, like playing GeoGuessr, only it's real life. As I followed the road I started to be able to see signs of civilisation at last: power lines, and a sign up a steep side-road that said "Mine road". Mining country. Industry. And that means people, and transport.

[xanna]

I came upon a much bigger bridge over what I'm pretty sure is the same river. There were larger houses here that were not derelict, which was exciting for a moment, but they're all boarded up. One had a 'bank foreclosure' sign on the door. I didn't try too hard to get inside because I could see there were more buildings ahead of me now, thank god, and I didn't want to waste what energy I had.

Over the bridge was a proper little settlement. I got to a shop with more cars outside, but no sign of people. The snow was thick and white everywhere, not touched for days, looks like. Inside the shop was fucking depressing. No sign of anyone one around, and nothing on the shelves, not a thing. Completely empty except for a single pack of beef jerky on the floor. There was a noticeboard behind the till with ads and posters and stuff, but any with dates were from months ago at least. Apparently this is somewhere called Thompson's Crossing, and I learned from the posters that there is at least a church and a community centre here. I read through the notices while I chewed on the jerky. There were ads from people moving away, trying to sell their stuff. Others offering transport to anyone looking to leave. More were notifying that events were cancelled "due to the shortages". I only stayed long enough to warm myself up, then moved on.

Over the road is where the rest of the town seemed to be, and not much beyond that as far as I could tell. The first building was the community centre. If I'm lucky, today is Wednesday and according to the sign outside that means bingo night! But probably not, eh? I'm inside the hall now, sitting at a trestle table to write. The floor is laid out with camping beds, so I guess there really was some sort of disaster or emergency here. No sign of anyone now, no sign at all.

And no sign of electricity for my phone either, or any other way to get help. There are power lines running here, but no power. There's a little kitchen, and all the electrical appliances are piled up in a corner, making me think the power has been out for a while. Damn. Dammit. There is a phone in the entranceway, but it's just a party line, no numbers to dial, and it's dead anyway. I'm going to have to keep going, aren't I? Damn it all.

While I was rooting around outside checking cables and such, the sun was going down. It cast the clouds and the snow in the most amazing pink. It really was beautiful and I gave myself permission to take a moment and be moved by it. This is why I came out here after all. This beautiful country, this beautiful world, doing its most beautiful thing.

Another airline meal before bed (chicken this time) then another. Hiking makes you hungry, so does freezing.

[xanna]

It's not morning yet, but I already have more weird shit to tell you.

I slept in one of the camp beds, in front of a fireplace, in case it got too cold. It wasn't comfortable, but better than on my wadded up blanket in the basement. After a day of recovering from shock and hiking, I fell asleep right away.

I had terrible dreams, which I won't write down, but they were those awful helpless nightmares.

When I woke up it was in the early hours, I'd guess about 3am or something. I opened my eyes to something very strange: the lights were on in the hall. The electric lights, I mean. The power was working! They were flickering like crazy, and making weird colours. I jumped up and tried flipping the lightswitches but they didn't respond. So weird. I tipped my hand luggage out on the floor in a frenzy, scrabbling to get my phone charger and adaptor, and tried a socket, then another, but it didn't work. My charging light remained stubbornly dead. I tried a toaster, too, from the pile of electrical yokes in the kitchen, but nothing. No toast for me.

There's a little office with a computer, but that was just as dead, despite the screen being on. Nothing but the backlight, no fans or drives whirring. The phone in the entrance was still dead, too.

I went outside to look at the cables or whatever - honestly I don't know what I thought I'd be able to do - but they looked just the same as in the day. I'm so glad I went out, though! I was treated to another beautiful show from the Northern Lights, it was amazing! The whole sky full of streaks of green and neon pink. One of the reasons I picked Canada for my trip was for an aurora, I've always wanted to see one. So I guess not all of my holiday plans have been thwarted. It's amazing how light it was outside. It wasn't snowing and not too windy, so I stared at the sky while walking a little around the village.

And the stars! So many stars, and so bright! The familiar constellations had a blanket of sparkles behind them that I've never seen before. The sky felt like a solid dome surrounding me, surrounding us. It was awesome, in every sense. You'd have loved it. Sorry I couldn't take a picture for you.

I heard a lot of animals around. Reminded me of when we went camping near my sister's, when the sheep kept us awake and you said you thought the countryside was supposed to be quiet. No sheep here, but insects and lots of birds, I think. Maybe a false dawn chorus because of the aurora, is that a thing? The loudest was owls, I think, howling in a really spooky way.

I didn't wander too far from the hall. There's an allotment with raised beds, and a wee marketplace opposite it, like a farmer's market. There wasn't a single shoot or twig showing in the allotment, at least not that I could see by the starlight, and that brought me back to reality a bit. Dead earth, under a living sky.

As my mood dropped with a bump, I noticed how cold I'd gotten, so I headed back into the hall. It's warm enough in here. I've been writing this by the wavering fluorescent lights, which I can't turn off. I'm tucked up in my campbed - procrastinating sleeping, if I'm honest, but I know I have to.

Oíche mhaith.

Edited February 10, 2023 by xanna
typo

[conanjaguar]

@xanna

I just want to say… amazing job and excellent writing on your part!

I will certainly follow along with interest.

Edited February 14, 2023 by conanjaguar

[xanna]

@conanjaguarOh thank you! That is very motivating! ❤️

[conanjaguar]

1 hour ago, xanna said:

@conanjaguarOh thank you! That is very motivating! ❤️

I don’t usually speak in memes, but I can’t help myself .

[xanna]

@conanjaguar ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

[xanna]

Day 2

When I woke up this morning I had that thing where you forget where you are. It took a few seconds. No nightmare this morning, but I think this might have been worse. I got that 'something is very wrong' feeling deep in my belly before the details came back to me. I was sure it just couldn't be true. I felt frozen, like a cliché in headlights. Hunger pulled me out of bed, but not out of my mood. I got some breakfast, moving on autopilot automatic.

The power is back off again, not that it was any use to me. There's no water in the taps, either. I suppose everything is frozen, or maybe it needs an electric pump or something. I don't know.

There is a piano here and, in the absence of coffee, I sat at it and played while I woke up. It's a little out of tune, but good enough for my purposes. I focussed on the music to help my brain boot, a bit of Bach, Bartók, some rock & roll, and as much of O Canada as I can remember (not much). Perhaps I should have played Walking in a Winter Wonderland.

I realised that I've been expecting to hear a car start up or pass by. I haven't heard anything. No one was here yesterday, and I guess no one is here today. I pulled on my boots and went out to knock on doors of all the houses (not many houses). No answer of course. Yesterday was.. well I knew what I was doing yesterday. Running from has so much more clarity in it than running to. So much more hope, too.

Knocking on doors didn't take long. I ended up at the tiny chapel. You know I don't believe, but I said a prayer anyway - to St. Anthony, for I am lost.

What I need is a plan, and information.

Back at the community centre I searched the books in the office. I didn't find a map, but I did find some local history. Well, that's an exaggeration, they are 'Local Legends' according to the cover: folktales, tall tales, nonsense about ghosts and Sasquatch. But there was a little of what I needed. Apparently I am in a place called Pleasant Valley, on an island, Great Bear. An island. I crashed on a motherfucking island. Let's call that a... complication. When I read that the lead ball dropped in my stomach again, and my brain went offline for a minute before I could continue reading. There are a few other towns nearby, probably hiking distance, it was hard to tell from the description. No map in the book, it's not the sort of book that entertains hard data.

I sketched my own little map to help me get my bearings

The road goes
- back up the mountain
- dead end with a landslide
- to a mine
- ???

I sorted out my pack. I gathered quite a bit of firewood on the hike here yesterday but I haven't needed it. It's dry and should burn well, but I can't take much. I can always find more.

Food is more important. I've only a couple of airline trays left. There were a few tins in the kitchen presses and - I swear to god - a bottle of maple syrup. As if the photos of ice hockey games on the walls and the flags on the houses weren't enough to remind me where I am. There were ketchup chips too - like in Kim's Convenience! (my number one reference for Canadian snacks) - and a box of tea. Don't get too excited though, it's some herbal shite, not Lyons.

I found a big plastic bottle and filled up that and my pilfered water bottle with water from the toilet cistern.

I should be able to carry everything I need. Best case scenario is I go find a phone or something then come back here to wait, but I can't plan on that. I'm taking one of these camp bedrolls just in case.

Edited February 16, 2023 by xanna
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[xanna]

[Author's note: this story is being written from a real run of TLD which I started for the purpose. While various actions of my survivor are obviously from the imagination, the weather and animal events come up in the story as they have in the game.]

[xanna]

Well that was not the afternoon I had planned! I've stopped for now, not really that far from Thomson's Crossing. This valley is a bit more exciting than I'd assumed.

The weather was pretty foggy when I set off down the road. I already feel so lost, and not being able to see what's ahead just made me feel more so. There was another car on the road and, just like the one at the junction before, it was unlocked. It's silly to hope to find a spare set of keys inside, and I didn't, but I have to try.

This was a much easier hike than the mountain path. The tarmac road that stretched ahead was clear of ice and snow. On one side there's rocks and cliffs and trees, and on the other side was fields. It was still very cold, but warmer than the morning, and the steady exercise was generating heat in my chest that radiated to all but my fingers and toes. I tried to forget what I was doing, pretending instead that this was one of my holiday hikes. I was... semi-successful. Look at the idyllic scenery, pristine mountaintops peeking (and peaking) above the fog! (can't photograph it) Breathe the clear, pure air! (everything still smells of smoke) Listen to the untamed sounds of nature away from the machines of men! (I'd give anything to hear a car beeping its horn impatiently at me right now)

I grumbled along for a while. My discoveries this morning were bleak and left me gloomy. Nature does have a curative magic to it though, at least it always has for me. The more I walked, the more I relaxed and loosened my grip on my woes. My sarcastic internal commentary couldn't hold up long against the beauty of this place, and my thoughts turned sincere. I let the magic in, let it lift me.

With the fog there wasn't a great deal to see, but there was a thick soundscape. The low rumble of the waterfall was in there somewhere, though I had to strain to hear it now. The birds I heard in the night were there, joined by many others. Dozens of different songs woven together, without disharmony, as though each bird knew its place in the chorus. I think I even heard a woodpecker! It sounded just like the cartoon. I heard something that might have been deer - they have reindeer here! - or I guess maybe a goat? Listening to it all kept me going.

After crossing another bridge, I saw a red shape in a misty field that looked like it could be a house or a barn, so I decided to detour. The field was dotted with hay bales and a few sheds. I followed a path and a large, bright red barn materialised through the fog. If you're picturing a cutesy old-fashioned (North) American stereotype of a barn, you have it right. Even down to a cockerel weather vane on the roof.

I was expecting it to be abandoned like everything else, but to my surprise I could hear a dog barking! My heart beat faster. Where there's a farm dog, there's surely a farmer nearby. But here's the thing. You know those owls I heard howling last night? I heard them again as I trudged down the farm road. Owls in the afternoon? I was so stupid. The howling wasn't owls, and the barking wasn't a dog.

There was an abrupt bark much closer to me, and then low, loud growling. I span around and saw a wolf facing me down. It looked like if you tried to draw a dog from memory - all the proportions a little bit off so it just looks wrong. It was slender and spindly, jet black coat and big teeth in its big head. It was moving slowly, with its eyes locked on me. I know that wolves do not typically attack people - I've read that a hundred times by now - but I promise you it didn't feel like that. This wolf was preying on me.

I picked up a stone and threw it, thinking it might frighten it, or the wolf might chase it like a dog would, but it didn't even register it. I turned and ran as fast as I could down the path, the wolf following right behind me, its growling getting louder. I stuck my hands into my pockets to stop my jacket flapping about, and found the emergency flare I'd stuffed in there yesterday in the car. I pulled it out thinking it might be a more effective frightener than a stone. Luckily, I didn't have to find out as I got to the barn door just in time.

Inside the barn I slumped onto the nearest hay bale. I've never been so frightened by an animal. The look on its face was pure aggression and focus, I might even say hatred. Through the thin plank walls of the barn I could still hear it outside, growling and pacing around. After a while I heard it moving away, and then the howling started up again; a loud aw-oo from my new friend, and answering calls further away. They had me surrounded.

I shoved the flare back in my jacket pocket, and as I did I felt something in there. It was a Polaroid photo, a vista of a snowy orchard, with a barn similar to this one in the neighbouring field. I found it on my hike yesterday then forgot about it.

A message on the back enthusing about the view gave me a pang of despair. That was supposed to be me, enjoying the views in comfort, instead of freezing half to death and being chased by hungry wolves.

It seemed best to try and wait them out, hope they would give up on me and move somewhere else. I explored the barn to distract myself from the howling. It was a shadowy, musty place that smelled of hay and woodsmoke, which I quite liked. There was a pick-up truck parked right in the middle, and little spaces around the outside filled with bales and loose hay. A short staircase led upstairs to a workshop area. I found some food and some tools, including a crow bar which I used to open a couple of locked lockers. I don't feel good about that, but I found more food and a very warm wool hat inside. It's white and red and has a maple leaf on it, so it will be quite the souvenir.

I saw a backpack in amongst the hay and went over to have a look through it, then stopped in my tracks. There between the bales was a person, very dead and frozen solid.

I really freaked out, of course I did. I was already terrified by the wolf chase, I had no calm left in me. It may not have been the only dead body I'd seen this week, but seeing the people at the crash site was one thing: death is not out of place at a plane crash. But someone just... dead in this jolly little barn? I couldn't cope with it, I refused to cope with it. I would not let it be part of my day. Wolves or no wolves, I was getting the hell out of there, away from the frozen body and all its implications.

I had to think of a way to get past the wolves if they came for me again. I had a knife, but I wouldn't be able to do anything with it before the wolf got its teeth in me. A frightener would be better, something to ward them off from a distance. Grabbing some sticks from my pack and newspaper from the truck, I made a quick fire in an old oil drum that was clearly there for the purpose. I balanced a chunky stick on the side of the brazier and got one tip burning steadily, leaving the other end safe for me to hold. A small, portable flame that I hoped would scare any wolves away from me.

I walked out of the wrong door and had to trudge around the rear of the barn to get back to the farm path. I couldn't see any wolves. I walked around a little more to convince myself they'd gone. I found an archery target with a couple of arrows stuck in it. I nabbed them, more because they're interesting than because they'll be useful, if I'm honest. They made me wonder about the people who lived and worked here. Maybe they belonged to whoever that was in the barn.

I set off back towards the road. I was a little way up the path when I heard another bark and saw a wolf some way off, stalking towards me. I waved my fiery stick in that direction, but I guess it was too far to make much impression. I tried to stay cool and keep walking, fixating on the torch so it wouldn't go out or burn me. If the wolf got too close I'd throw the stick at it and make a run for the road.

Then suddenly the wolf started barking again and changed direction. It was running away from the path into the field, and I saw what had caught its attention - two deer, a doe and a stag, that were now cantering off in a panic. (Do deer canter? Or is that just horses?) The doe fled right past me, actually very close to me. The wolf caught up to the stag who had run in a different direction, and I saw it leap and bring its prey to the ground, despite being only one-third its size. There was a mournful noise, and the stag died right there on the snow.

It was both horrifying and hard to look away from, but I couldn't linger. I made my way back to the road while the wolf was safely distracted by its dinner.
 

I'm running out of light here now, I'll have to finish today's story in the morning.

[Admin]

Thank you for continuing this story! 

[xanna]

Thank you for your comment, @Admin I am honoured!

[xanna]

I just read over what I wrote last night. I didn't realise I wrote so much! Sorry about that. I guess this is what happens when I don't have internet to distract me, and something about my surroundings has made me a bit poetic. Lyrical storytelling is part of being Irish you know, but jesus, I didn't even get to telling you where I am now.

So, I got back to the road, away from the wolf. The fog was lifting and I could see a lot further now. I walked over yet another bridge, and alongside the next field, separated from the first by a frozen stream. It was an orchard, and there was a little barn right by the road. I found a gap in the fence and made my way over to it. There were rabbits hopping around, maybe two or three of them. I love bunnies, and these were absolutely adorable. They were scared of me, though, and scattered as I traipsed through. A tractor was parked there; I peeked inside, but no keys. From here I could see a big farmhouse about 200-300m away between the dead trees.

This barn was much smaller than its neighbour had been, a big shed really. It didn't take a moment to look inside and see it had nothing to offer me. The farmhouse was a much more likely spot for supplies and maybe a phone. I started to head towards it, but I didn't get very far at all. Someone was walking on the road beside it - not a farmer, but a bear! An actual bear! There was no mistaking it. Nothing else looks or moves like a bear. It lumbered around on its four paws, dawdling like it had just left the house and was trying to decide whether to go back in for a hat.

It was far enough away that I didn't panic, but it definitely changed my plans. With no immediate need to move on, I felt safe enough to watch it for a while. It was big and bulky and round, with dark coat - maybe grey, maybe brown, or black. Hard to tell from where I was. Do you remember I learned about bears on my survival course? It had gone out of my mind, and I hadn't been doing the things I was supposed to, like watching out for tracks, or singing as I hiked. I was planning on buying bear spray after I picked up the campervan; it's been hard to get ahold of in Ireland ever since the bears went extinct a few millennia ago. Now I'm somewhere called Great Bear Island, I have no excuse to be surprised to see them! I suppose I had better get used to the idea of them being around.

The last of the fog wisped away while I was watching the bear. The farmhouse was big with inviting porches, and there was a tall silo off to one side, by the bank of the stream I had crossed. Something about the arrangement seemed weirdly familiar. Orchard, house, silo, stream, bridge... I felt ridiculous doing it, but I pulled out the Polaroid photo from my pocket, and traced the same features with my gloved finger. I looked up to the shape of the mountaintops beyond then back to those on the photo. My jaw dropped. An exact match. It's the same farm! That barn I hid in from the wolves was the one in the photo. That's gas.

I turned the photo over to read the message again, feeling much more warm towards the writer than I had earlier on.

"This is what I see every day at work! Weather service radio, with a touch of music when I get the chance. Who needs the Mainland. -S"

It took a second for me to put two and two together. 'S' works near here. 'S' works in radio. There is radio near here. Looking at the photo, it's very near here.

I forgot all about the bear and spun around towards where the photo must have been taken. Over the road was high, rocky cliffs, and I couldn't see anything up there. I followed the road along, staring straight up at the rock wall until I rounded a corner and saw - yes! - a glimpse of a red structure! The further I walked the more it grew until I was standing, neck craned, looking up at a radio mast.

My heart beating hard in my chest, I scrambled up a snowy bank to where I could stand right underneath it. I needed to get my bearings. It was such a long way up that perspective could play real tricks. There had to be a way up there from the road, so I kept walking along, glancing back every few seconds to make sure I kept the tower in view. Around a corner, the rock wall gave way to a steep bank, and I scrambled up it. I lost sight of the mast a few times, but after about 20-40 minutes or so, I came on a service road, and suddenly the tower and a low, square hut came gloriously into full view.

The hut was surrounded by a high chainlink fence. I pulled on the gate but I could see it was locked. Around by the cliff edge the fence was damaged and I squeezed my way in, snagging my backpack as I did.

I hammered on the door. Are you in there, S? I need your help! But there were no lights on inside, no sounds, and noone came. I rattled the door handle in frustration and to my amazement, the door was unlocked. Canada really does be like that, huh. Inside was a control room and a small living area with a bed and microwave. It seemed to be a military station; I found a uniform greatcoat and big army-type boots, and a box of bullets (but no gun). Around the walls of the control room were huge banks of technical equipment that had a military air.

I supposed I shouldn't have expected there to be power, given my experiences so far. Surely a military installation, especially a radio service, would have robust power infrastructure, though? But no, it was all just as dead as the rest of this valley. Not only do I have to figure out how to work it, I have to figure out how to power it, too.

In the meantime it's warm inside, and feels safe. I ate a random picnic of scavenged food for dinner. The little bedroom had a few things, some sardines and *drumroll* coffee! Still no real tea, though. After eating I went back outside with the Polaroid in hand to see the view that S loved so much. Standing by the mast I could see the whole valley. I even fancied I could see where the plane had come down on the mountains way across the farmland. I sat on the edge of the cliff with a can of pop ('Stacey's Soda') and filled in more of my map until I got too cold to be outside.

Writing to you while wrapped up on the bunk took me to bedtime. Right now it's morning and I'm still in bed, waiting for the warmer part of the day. If I want coffee, I'm going to have to make it over a fire. I only have like a dozen matches in the hotel matchbook, so I should be sensible and resist for now, very reluctantly. I'm starting my day uncaffeinated.

Edited March 10, 2023 by xanna

[xanna]

Day 3

The bear is determined to make my acquaintance, and here's me without any marmalade sandwiches to offer.

This morning was clear and beautiful, but cold. The daylight has a hard time filtering through the hut's manky window so it's very gloomy inside despite the bright sun. I spent a bit of time looking at the radio equipment, but it didn't enlighten me. I might have figured out where there is a broadcast mic, but no idea what any of the other buttons and dials do. I just ended up feeling frustrated and like I was wasting time.

I found this note on the desk - no indication who it's to or from:

It's about an earthquake or a storm that caused the disaster that blocked the road. Sounds like it's worse than just the landslide I saw over near the mine road. It says there's no route to the highway from here. I'm just glad to know there is a highway, not just more little villages.

I want to go check out this farmhouse still. If there's a phone, then I can just forget about complicated radio stuff anyway. I went to the mast where I could get a very good view of the orchard and the farmhouse. Disappointingly, the lumbering shape of the bear was visible, blocking my way there again. I decided to spend time exploring up here instead - the service road must go somewhere.

I ambled along it away from the radio hut with no particular direction in mind. There wasn't much out there, a few trees, lots of snow, the steep bank down on my left side and a wide, flat area to my right. Nothing to catch my attention or inspire me. I failed to account for how cold it was, too, so much colder than yesterday. Even with my ski gloves and two hats, walking didn't warm me up.

After about 45 minutes, I thought I spotted the black shape of a wolf pacing around between the trees, and that was enough to make me give up and head back inside. It's probably a good thing I didn't get any further because the wind was really biting and by the time I got back to the hut I was properly freezing again, shaking and teeth chattering. Better to warm up inside the hut for an hour or two than risk hypothermia and/or a wolf mauling.

Now I'm after assessing my situation. It won't take long to do, not much has changed. I can already cross off 'find out where I am' and 'find somewhere safe to sleep' from my list, and that's not nothing.

Assuming that this place Pleasant Valley is as abandoned as it seems to be, I need to:

• get a message out that I am here and ask for help:
  • find a phone, or
  • power my phone, or
  • use the radio station
    • power it
    • figure out how it works
  • or failing all that, find another town
     
• survive in the meantime:
  • stay warm
  • find enough food
  • avoid wolves and the bear and any other scary things
  • stay sane

From what I can see through the gloomy window, the sun is higher, and it's hopefully getting warmer so I'm going to go back to my lookout post to check the bear/farmhouse situation, then head on down.

[xanna]

All looked clear so I cheerfully pulled my pack back on, then immediately discovered where the bear had gone to. It was standing right outside the fence around the radio hut, looking enormous and imposing just a few metres away from me. I dashed back inside before it saw me.

As well as being dirty, the windows inside the hut are very high up so I can't keep my eye on the bear and see when the coast is clear. I'm just going to wait for a while for it to move on. I've been leafing through the Local Legends book to pass the time - it's the best literature I have found, which is not saying much. Wish I had a novel. Wish I had my phone.

[xanna]

I waited about an hour or so before the boredom was too much, and I went back outside. The bear hadn't gone far, it must have been hanging around here. I saw it bumbling down the service road, very close but facing away. Pressing my back (or rather my pack) to the rocks, I snuck around as quietly as possible till I was sure I was not going to draw attention, then raced down the steep slope to the road. Amazing that I didn't break my ankle.

I approached the farm and - I couldn't believe it - in the field was another bear! I mean, it must be a different one, surely, no way the bear I ran from could have beaten me down here without me noticing. So, two bears. If you ask me, that's too many bears, and they seem to want to be exactly where I want to be. Paddington doesn't want to leave the radio hut, and while Rupert was far enough out of the way of the farmhouse, I still didn't feel good about exploring outside.

There's a car on the farm road near the house. Like the others, it was unlocked, but this one also had a key in the ignition, like I'd been wishing for. I turned it but nothing happened, the engine didn't even grunt, and no lights came on the dashboard. I tried the headlights and radio, but even they didn't come on. I'm not a car guy, but it felt like an electrical problem: no power here either? Now I come to think about it, I've seen quite a lot of cars, which is odd if everybody left town. You don't just leave your car behind when you move away, even if you live on an island and have to ship it or whatever. Then again, that note said "no route to the highway".

Why does nothing work here? I stayed in the car for a bit, slumped in the seat in confusion and disappointment. There was a chocolate bar on the dash which I ate for comfort and tried not to feel too down. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a scrap of paper sticking out from behind the passenger-side visor. It's a sketch that looks like a map: "Way up to the old Dam seems open again. Better check it out soon." I couldn't piece it into my own map, I wonder if it's near here.

I've looked around the house now. There's no phone, and no power, not much of anything. I found a bit of food, but the kitchen was basically empty. The notices in the shop mentioned shortages, and the shop itself was empty too, so I guess they just couldn't refill their presses when they ran out of food, leaving nothing in them for me.

I'm not sure how I feel about this, but I did find a gun under the bed. I wouldn't be surprised to find a shotgun or a hunting rifle on a farm, but this is a revolver. It had a couple of bullets in the chamber which I took out to compare against the ones I found in the radio hut - they're the same, so I've loaded it up. I've used an air rifle before, but I've never shot a handgun. I am going to take it, I think I'd be a fool not to, especially with wolves about.

I'm sitting in the back porch. It has windows all around and is cosy (though a lot of the panes are broken). I can imagine the people living here in better days, sitting out on warm evenings, gazing at their trees, branches heavy with the fruit they nurtured, with a glass of wine in hand, listening to the birdsong. I watched the sun go down, and now the aurora is starting to show again. For some reason I expected it would be a rarer thing to see, but I do remember Orla saying that she saw a green glow every night when she went to Reykjavík, though only a full sky a few times. There's a full sky here again tonight, ribbons of green and red.
 

Mother of god! I just went out to look at the aurora and the headlights of the car were on. They were flickering and juddering, like the lights in the community centre were before. I tried the ignition again but it wouldn't turn over still. I've checked inside the house and the lights are on there, too. I can see the radio mast from here and there's a bright red light on the top. What the hell is going on?

Edited March 24, 2023 by xanna