Free SURVIVING ABE: A Climate-Fiction Novel by J.Z. O'Brien

vertical feet to the ridge top.  Moving as quietly as possible through the thick undergrowth had slowed Gus down, but he wanted to make the least amount of disturbance in the forest as he could.  Seeing the amount of elk scat on the ground, both fresh and from years past, pumped adrenaline into his blood .  "Could be in the middle of 'em ," he told himself as he concentrated on moving noiselessly, with listening stops every few steps.
    Hearing nature's silence, smelling the thin mountain air, he concentrated on using peripheral vision for the slightest movement before moving again.  He tried to open his mind to the total awareness that only comes to predators and prey when the steaks are apt to be eaten raw, right then, right there.
    The view that greeted him from the point of the ridge was better than he ha d hoped.  Spread out beneath his position in the middle of a "Y" were two valleys, one on either side of him, that merged into one just below his perch; which gave him a perfect vantage point.  Looking out over the area where the valleys joined he saw thick brush in the bottom around the stream, pinyons and cedars on the steep slopes, and stands of thick fir trees starting near the top; what he considered as prime elk habitat.  The area directly below him, where the two valleys became one narrowing valley, had to be a natural game-crossing area with the maze of game trails visible in the clearings.
    Gus got comfortable as he leaned back on a rock outcropping and steadied the binoculars with his elbows on his knees.  He started by glassing the valley to his west, over the ridge from his camp, to take advantage of having the early morning light behind him.  He planned on glassing the valley to his east in the afternoon to get the best use of afternoon light, if he hadn't already found a bull by then.
    By lunch time he had spotted one den’s worth of coyote pups mischievously attacking and mauling each other.  They were so entertaining it was hard to avert his eyes from them to keep checking under each tree for the tines of a bedded bull.  Four cow elk and a couple of calves grazed through a park then quickly disappeared into the trees.  No bull seemed to be nosing around the cows, maybe because it was near the hottest part of the day.  Gus thought this harem almost had to be accompanied by a bull somewhere nearby, probably staying hidden in the cooler shade of heavy-timber stands.  He watched the area for a couple of hours occasionally seeing the cows, but not their boyfriend.
    For lunch some shade and a military meal-ready-to-eat (MRE) , after a few moments in a heater sleeve, had Gus again thinking how good just about anything hot tasted in the great outdoors.  He admired the spoon, saved it, and then buried the rest of the trash from the meal.  He chastised himself, but quickly got over it, knowing exactly what happens to the trash packed out; it went into the Mesa County Landfill.  Having been there many times to dump trash he knew what it looked and smelled like, the almost indiscernible spot where he’d buried his trash seemed like a better choice.
    The warm afternoon sun and his full belly called for a nap, but the anticipation and excitement of the first day of hunting made him a traitor to his vow of relaxing.  He decided to check out the valley to the east instead.
    As the afternoon wore on he began to think he was looking in the wrong valley, and was tempted to see if the cows he’d seen earlier were still playing hard to get.  He began a final check of tree lines on the far side of all the likely clearings, before he would stop and pack up to hunt the way back to camp.  In looking around at the sky, before getting behind the binoculars, Gus heard some distant thunder, but saw no thunderheads; so he didn't let it worry him just yet.  He did see some high clouds to the west, which meant darkness would come earlier, especially since camp was on the shaded side of the ridge.  Seeing that it