Free Beyond the Barriers by Timothy W. Long

gone for so long. I bet they would understand. My manager Tammy was the no-nonsense sort, but she did have a sense of humor. I could see it now—her laughing as I told her I went to the mountains and lived like a hermit for a few weeks.
    Tomorrow I would walk the mile or two to the road and take a look.
     
    * * *
     
    It was cold and gray. Rain threatened from the moment I woke up. I didn’t have a rain jacket, so I decided to wait, and wait I did. For the next six days, it rained almost nonstop. I became so used to the sound of water running down the roof and the side of the cabin that I heard it even when there were breaks in the rain.
    I heated water one day, because I felt like the damp had soaked into my bones, and took a long, lazy bath in the tub. I sang songs from memory and even put headphones on and listened to my mp3 player for a precious half hour of music. I planned to fire up the generator in a day or two and charge all the electronic devices.
    The rain let up for a few hours then set in again. I went to sleep after finishing off the scotch, but had to keep one foot on the ground to stop the room from spinning. The next day, I felt like shit, but I hauled myself out of bed and drank what seemed like a gallon of water. At least the rain was gone, so I popped a pair of aspirin from my medical kit and ate some food from one of the survival kits. Dry cakes of some shit that tasted gritty, but provided good protein and nutrients. The only downside was that the stuff caused terrible gas.
    I had a couple of cans of corned beef hash calling to me, but I was saving them for a special day.
    I would suit up and head down to the road in a few minutes.
     
    * * *
     
    Nothing. That was what I saw in an hour of standing around behind a tree waiting for a car to pass. Nothing went by, not a car, motorcycle or even a logging truck. I walked out to the street, inspecting the gate first, but there was no one in sight. I wanted to jump in the Honda and head back to town. It was driving me insane—the not knowing. Or maybe it was just loneliness.
    I flipped open my cell phone, and a single bar of connectivity faded in and out. I walked around the side of the road, then into it a few times, until I got a partial bar again. Then I dialed Allison, because I was worried about her. No matter what our problems had been, I loved her at one time. The phone tried to connect. It made some clicking sounds, followed by a fast busy signal. I tried another number, my manager at work, but got the same thing. Then I called Devon, and the sound repeated.
    I wandered back to the cabin and spent another week dreading the fact I needed to go back and see what was going on.
     
    * * *
     
    The cold of winter came on like a heavy curtain. I passed the next few weeks uneventfully.
    I hunted, and finally decided to climb up a large tree and lie on a branch. I took my rifle down, and after what seemed the whole day, I saw movement. I raised the rifle and sighted down the barrel. It had a very basic scope, but I was still able to bring the elk into focus. He wasn’t exactly heading toward me, but he was passing fairly close. I took a bead on his center and exhaled. I stroked the trigger, and the rifle hammered into my shoulder.
    The elk staggered and started to run, but I must have tagged him good, because he took two stumbling steps then went down. I let out a “yippee” and climbed down the tree to inspect my prize. The animal was huge, and his eyes remained on mine while I approached. He took deep breaths, and a light puff of fresh snow moved around his nose where the air snuffled in and out.
    I took my knife out and put an end to his suffering by slicing it through his neck. Now I had the problem of what to do with the meat. I spent the next few hours taking off the haunches, and then I skinned him as best I could and tried to bury the organs in the ground, but it was hard going with all the roots. The dirt was miserably cold, and after a while, I