I haven't written anything in a while. My Godess suggested I start writing again as an exercise. Now shes mad cause I don't go to bed anymore. I have never written anything seen by eyes outside my claimed tribe of friends and family. I write for fun not for profit.....yet.
Pete was making his way along the well-worn game trail when he heard the thunder. He tried looking around to see where the storm was coming from but the forest canopy was too thick. Putting his fingers in his mouth to whistle Pete gave two short shrill tweets. Moments later one hundred and seventy pounds of fur and slobber exploded from the bushes five yards ahead of him.
The dog was jet black except for a small patch of white on his chest. Pete found the dog wandering the streets of a small town in New Jersey as Pete was looking for supplies. The dog almost met its demise at the hands of Pete when they first met. What Pete thought was an aggressive “I’m going to eat you” charge was actually a “Hey mister I’ve been waiting so long for someone to throw this ball for me” charge.
The dog padded up the path and sat down in front of him. “Bad storm Deac, we have to find some shelter before it rains.” The dog responded by thumping his tail against the ground. Deacon as his breed dictates loved water, Pete on the other hand hated getting wet except to bathe and to cool down during the hot summer months. “You didn’t happen to find a house while you were out doing dog things did you?” This time the dog responded by getting up and running down the trail ahead of Pete. “Well I’ll be damned,” Pete said in amazement as he ran to catch up with Deacon.
Pete didn’t have much experience with dogs aside from Deacon, but he had an idea that some dogs must have the ability to differentiate certain keywords aside from sit rollover and such. A dog can be a highly trained tool depending upon the patience and persistence of its owner. House could be one of the words considering that once you let a domesticated dog out to do its business it would have to be told to “get in the house” once it was done.
Before he could catch up to Deacon the dog ran off up the trail once more. Thunder roared again this time loader. Pete felt the temperature drop, as the leading edge of the storm got closer. Once again as he got closer to the dog it took off, this time Deacon dove through the underbrush to the left of the game trail. Rolling down the sleeves of his flannel shirt, and cinching the straps of his backpack tighter, Pete resumed his pursuit of Deacon.
Cursing as he wade his way through the grabby sticker bushes Pete finally made it to the other side. Deacon was waiting for him in the middle of a dirt road that the flora and fauna had not yet reclaimed. It felt like the air was twenty degrees colder than it was an hour previous. Pete could now see the black sky as it roiled above him. “Hurry up boy its almost on top of us,” said Pete directing words of encouragement at the dog. Just then a thick hissing purple bolt of lightning struck a tree 100 feet up the road making them both flinch. Thunder boomed all around them. Needing no more encouragement, Deacon ran in the opposite direction from where the lightning struck the now smoking tree. Pete was hot on his trail.
Pete first saw the structure as the raindrops began to pelt his face and head. “Way to go Deac, you are the coolest dog in what’s left of this crippled world.” The structure seemed to be intact. From Pete’s perspective it looked like a small cabin that a hunter would use on vacation when the world was a better place. Pete’s right hand dropped down to his hip where the reassuring weight of his .45 Colt Automatic Pistol slept in its holster.
Before he walked up to the door and let himself in, Pete rounded a corner to get a look in the window. The last thing he wanted to do was surprise anyone inside the small lodging. The only thing Pete hated more than getting wet was dying. Peering through a window thick with the dust of time, Pete convinced himself that the cabin was empty. Closing his hand around the doorknob he gave it a turn.
The door was unlocked to Pete’s surprise but then again this cabin stretched back to a time when people didn’t have to lock their doors for protection. The door opened with a soft creak of its hinges, by the time Deacon and Pete entered they were soaked through from the heavy rains. Finding a structure like this unmolested after all this time was highly improbable, almost as improbable as finding a 20 pound diamond while gardening.
The interior of the cabin was in pristine condition except for the layer of dust and ash that had settled on everything. Pete almost felt guilty standing there dripping water on the floor. In one corner of the room was a bed whose frame and headboards were made out of the smoothed branches of a tree held together with pegs. The familiar scent of cedar permeated Pete’s nose. There could be no doubt that the man or even women who had owned this cabin had crafted the bed with their own hands. There was also a table and two chairs in the room, crafted out of the same materials as the bed.
“Well Deac.” “What do you think?” Deacon eyed its master then shook the excess water from its thick black coat. Without waiting for permission the dog hopped up onto the bed and lay down. “Let it be known that the dog votes yes.” Pete said to no one in particular. Pete loosened the padded shoulder straps, and shrugged out of the nylon backpack. He then turned his attention to the small iron sheepherders stove located in the middle of the room. He was familiar with its operation having used them countless times in his travels here and there. He was also familiar with the fire hazard it could be if a bird or other critter decided to make a nest in its six-inch diameter flue. After checking it for obstructions Pete built a fire using the tinder and a few small split logs sitting in a wicker basket next to the stove. As the fire quickly warmed the one room cabin, Pete looked around to see what else he could find useful.
There was a kerosene lamp on the table, but after shaking it Pete concluded that its fuel reservoir was empty. In one of the corners was a wooden countertop that was laid out in the shape of an L. On one end of the counter were a sink basin and an old-fashioned hand pump, which drew water up from a well. Pete was more than happy to hear the gurgle of water after pumping the pump a couple times. The cold water that splashed into the sink was red with rust but it eventually cleared up. Cupping his hand under the spigot Pete took a long drink of the fresh, sweet water.
Under the sink basin was a small storage area with various bottles and cans. After snooping around Pete found a metal can whose label read “Lamp Fuel”, it was three quarters full. The storm raged on forgotten outside. Pete filled the hurricane lamp with fuel and lit it to get a better view of the inside of the cabin. The clouds from the sudden storm were all but obscuring the light from the sun. Before going any farther Pete got undressed and hung his wet clothes on the back of one of the chairs that he moved closer to the warmth of the stove.
On the other side of the L shaped countertop was what Pete thought was a wooden cupboard. Pete was surprised when he opened it. “This place is full of surprises boy”, Deac’s ear twitched but he was more interested in slumber than with what Pete had to say. The cupboard was custom made to conceal its contents. A four-foot tall refrigerator was fit snugly inside it. Knowing the risks of opening the fridge Pete closed the cupboard and turned his curiosity to the other unexplored nooks and crannies of the cabin. Deacon began to snore before too long. A trunk at the bottom of the bed contained a heavy wool blanket as well as some sweaters and a pair of winter weight bib overalls. The overalls tag heralded them as being of the “Real tree” camouflage pattern made popular with hunters during the 90’s.
The last cabinet left to explore stood as tall as Pete who was all of six feet. There was a combination type Master lock padlock joining the hasps between the doors. It was the only security feature in the entire cabin. Looking around for something to pry the hasps off with Pete found a half full, not bottle, but case of single malt scotch under the bed. “You old coot.” Pete said with glee, the brand happened to be his favorite. Pete’s brain could not process the sheer luck that he was having. The discovery of the half case of scotch had pushed him over the edge. The unexplored locked cabinet could wait until morning.
Pete grabbed a bowl from a shelf by the sink and filled it with water from the pump. He set it down on the floor so Deacon could drink it when he awoke. Pete looked forward to sleeping on the soft feather mattress, he could not remember the last time he slept in a bed it was so long ago. While lying in bed Pete also did something else he hadn’t done in years. He dreamt.
Deacon was having dreams of his own. All four paws of the large black Newfoundland were twitching. Short sorrowful whimpers escaped from the dog’s throat. It was the sounds escaping his masters throat that brought Deacon out of his dream. The dog got off the bed and stretched by extending its front paws out and lowering its chest to the floor while leaving its butt in the air. Padding over to the bowl of water Pete had left for him Deacon drained half of it. He had to pee but he was a good dog and would be able to hold it until his master woke and let him out.
By now Deacon’s master was thrashing about under the covers, occasionally a cry or moan would escape his lips. Deacon curled himself up into the shape of a donut next to the bed and sighed. Whatever Pete was doing in his sleep, he wasn’t chasing rabbits. To Deacon it sounded like the rabbits were chasing Pete, and they were ten feet tall.
Pete woke up at the crack of dawn. For a moment he was disoriented. The last thing he remembered according to his dream memory was arguing with a bartender that resembled Elvis in every way shape and form. He was at a bar putting the moves on his fifth grade teacher and Elvis was watering down the drinks. "Damn that felt real”, he thought as he got out of bed. “I wonder what Freud would have to say about that one”.
“Good morning Deac”, “Want to go out buddy?” Naked except for the .45 in his hand both Pete and Deacon went outside to relieve themselves. The morning air was crisp and cool; autumn was coming on quick this year. Pete waited until he thought Deacon was done. It seemed like Deacon had pissed five gallons of urine, but Pete knew that the dog was just making sure all the other animals in the area knew that this was “his turf” by leaving his scent on whatever his bladder let him. The longer Pete thought about it the more amusing it seemed.
After Pete found Deacon in New Jersey the two of them had traveled hundreds if not thousands of miles together on foot. “You got a pretty good range their boy, just don’t make the same mistake that the Chinese made”, Pete said referring to one of the last wars mankind had fought. “Only take what you can keep”. Back around 2005 various border wars were fought between the New Soviet Republic and China. The Chinese were coming off a humiliating defeat at the hands of the Taiwanese in an unsuccessful bid to end Taiwan’s independence. This crushing defeat infuriated the Chinese so mobilized for war and desperate for natural resources the Chinese crossed the Amur river and made a drive into the central Siberian plateau in a quest to grab the NSR’s newly discovered oil, gold, and uranium resources.
The Chinese pushed inward an astounding 1500 miles, but as an army marches on its stomach, they extended their supply lines too far. The convoys of Chinese trucks were easy pickings for the superior air power of the NSR and were decimated. Pete hated war. It was war that turned the world inside out and upside down.
Mankind was so bent on destroying one another that they had to come up with new and improved ways to do it. At the forefront of this devastating evolution of weapons was the United States. Nuclear weapons were passé. Scientists in various labs had designed super-bacteria that when sprayed over an armored tank column, would begin to break down the various types of metal that the tanks were made of. The bacteria would begin to work on contact, but because it was designed with such high tolerances to conditions, it was most effective when ingested by the tanks internal combustion engines.
Within an hour of being sprayed vehicles on the battlefield would be rendered immobile.
Another gem that the United States had come up with was the use of microwaves as a weapon. Depending upon how the weapon was tuned and its power output these microwave weapons could instantaneously boil the fluids in a human body or superheat the hull of a ship into slag, or melt the fuselage of an airplane. The destructive power of these weapons was limitless.
These new weapons were nothing compared to the breakthroughs in scalar and maser technology. The brainchild of Nikola Tesla, these weapons used electro-magnetics to produce their required result. This technology altered Mother Nature itself.
Applied electro-magnetics gave us the ability to create weather. Scalar weapons gave us the ability to create earthquakes. Scientists disregarded the notion that mother earth was a delicately balanced organism. Within weeks of these weapons first being used the United States had started a chain reaction that they were powerless to stop.
Imagine standing on a dock and using all your strength you are slowly but surely able to push a ten thousand ton battleship away from the dock. Now on another dock opposite yours someone as strong as you is standing there and his job is to keep the battleship from hitting and crushing the dock he is standing on. These weapons were released on a world that was unready for them. An earthquake started at point A would cause volcanoes to erupt at points B, C, D, and E. Which would cause earthquakes at points F, G, H, and I. The friction between two tectonic plates would cause magma to explode forth from what was thought to be extinct volcanoes.
Hawaii lost a huge chunk of land to the Pacific Ocean along what was once called the great crack. A huge tsunami thousands of feet high crossed the Pacific at the speed of sound. Hundreds of millions of people lost their lives to the chaos caused by these weapons, and the people who ordered their deployment were safe in sound in their airborne command posts. It grew to a point one day where catastrophes simultaneously erupted all over the world. Yellowstone National Park exploded with such force that huge bus sized boulders landed hundreds of miles away. Ash from the mega caldera of Yellowstone blocked out sunlight and trapped in heat, raising the average temperature an unfathomable 20 degrees. The Earths climate changed drastically.
To be continued...........unless ADD takes over.
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