Free Beyond the Barriers by Timothy W. Long Page A

went back to the cabin and dug out some old plastic garbage bags. They provided a pretty poor substitute for a deep hole. Any predator with half a nose would seek them out in no time. I just hoped it wasn’t a determined bear.
    I didn’t bag everything. I set aside the liver and kidneys for stew. I felt like a real hunter, so I took a bit of blood and drank it down. Then I had to fight to keep from gagging.
    I dragged back chunks of the big animal and put them on the porch. Some of it I would turn into jerky. If the snow came on, as I suspected it would, I would bury the rest in an outdoor freezer and hope it didn’t thaw out too soon.
     
    * * *
     
    I went back and hacked at the ribs for a while and took a huge piece back. This I chopped and broke into smaller sections, and then I let a rack of six roast near the fireplace. I didn’t have much seasoning, but they were just about the best ribs I had ever eaten in my life.
     
    * * *
     
    Winter was like a heavy blanket of white, and I was stuck for the time being. Stuck may have been the wrong word. I could certainly head out in the SUV and drive nice and slow out of the mountains, but I thought it would be a good idea to stay in place and wait for the winter to pass. Make a fresh run at the city when all the madness was over. And so my existence ground to a slow crawl as I waited.
    I went out and started the SUV. I let it run for a good half hour. I ran the heater very high, so I could get at any moisture. The car already smelled like mildew, but it was worth a shot.
    I drove up and down the little drive way a few times, taking care to hit a few potholes. I wanted to shift the gas in the tank, let it move around. If condensation built up on the inside and mixed with the gas, I would have a hell of a time going anywhere.
    I created a calendar on a sheet of paper and put a reminder to do this again in a week.
    Days were routine, mainly focusing on what I would eat. The survival packs would only get me through another two months at best, so I made more of an effort to hunt.
    I took down a big buck and gave him the same treatment as the elk. After dragging the carcass a half mile away, I freaked when I thought I had lost my way in the snow. Stupid. If a fresh dusting of snow came along and covered my tracks, I would likely freeze out here.
    Weeks fled past and became a blur. For Christmas, I opened the last can of corned beef. I sang a Christmas carol or two and built up the fire. Low on wood, I would have to go stand in a foot of fresh snow tomorrow and chop some logs. If Ray came back, I would ask his forgiveness for removing some of his tree line. Until then, I wasn’t planning on hauling wood back through the snow.
     
    * * *
     
    It was February when I ran out of food. The last of the emergency supplies were gone, and I was down to the gristly parts of the last deer I had shot. I sat in the tree for three days, and not a single one wandered by. I knew from my old military training that I could survive for a few weeks with nothing to eat, as long as I had water. And that I had plenty of, thanks to all the cursed snow.
    I didn’t plan to wait around for that, so I packed a few supplies, loaded the shotgun, and put them in the car.
    I had to crank at the key a few times, but the car puttered to life. The gas had sat in the tank for a few months, and I hoped it would be fine. I backed out of the snow, which was somewhat melted and only a few inches thick. The bigger concern was the ice that lay underneath it.
    The car stuttered as I struggled to get moving. Hopefully shifting the gas around in the tank had helped.
    I opened the gate with a steady hand, but some of the nails fell out from my jury-rigged repairs. Once I slid past the gate, I put it back in place and pounded the nails in with the tire iron. Then I got on a road that was pure white; there were no tread marks at all. The cabin wasn’t too high up, another thousand feet, and I doubted I would have been able to