I stroked his shoulders and chest and allowed my hand to move onto his belly. He loved this touching and without any noticeable change in his breathing, he shifted to allow more contact to his belly. In the flickering light of the fire, I watched my hand move on his belly and wondered … could I? … should I? The idea of ‘normal society’ may not have much application to us anymore. Only better understanding of our situation will determine that and that provided some exciting and nervous anticipation. Almost instantly, I started thinking of Bo differently. How would he react?
* * * *
I dozed off and Bo wasn’t on my legs. The fire had died to brilliant coals and Bo was standing over me looking into the forest below. I put my hand on his shoulder, looked in the same direction, and listened with him. He whimpered at the sound of a branch snapping. I moved my hand along the surface of the ledge, found a rock, and pitched it awkwardly in the direction of the sound. It had the desired effect and the soft sound of a branch snapping was replaced by something crashing through the forest. It might have only been a deer, but I was offended that an animal might have been tearing into the sergeant while I was close by.
I could have shot off a round from the gun resting next to my right leg, but survival in unknown situations was about conserving resources. The new day would be about determining what those resources were and a better understanding of what our situation was. I looked above through the break in the trees and saw a glimmer of light in the sky above. Somewhere to the east, on the other side of some mountains, they were experiencing the dawning of the day. It would still be a while for us, though. It occurred to me how I was already responding: us, this was likely to be Bo and me, and how we responded together. The forest around us was quiet, again. I put wood on the coals and flames leapt up providing more light around us and increased warmth, both physical and psychological. I patted my leg and he settled himself back down. I didn’t sleep, however, anticipating what the new day would bring.
The first full day of our new existence began slowly and quietly. The light in the sky was noticeable before the light penetrated the ground below me. I waited patiently, however, reminding myself to take things more carefully because mistakes and injury could have much more far reaching consequences than ever before in my life. I let the fire and coals die out as the light increased through the trees.
When I decided it was light enough to go down onto the forest floor, I looked at the weapon belt I took off the sergeant the night before. The pistol was engraved as a Glock 41 Gen4. It was a 45 cal weapon with a magazine of 13 rounds. In addition to the holster, it had enclosed compartments for two additional magazines, a multi-purpose folding tool, and some kind of combat knife with an awesome 8-inch blade with multiple functions on it, also. I made the decision to err on the side of caution as far as protection went and cinched the belt around the waist of my cut-offs and tied both the knife scabbard and the holster to my bare thighs. It felt weird and I might have been embarrassed by the GI Jane appearance except that I was alone.
I went first to the sergeant and was relieved to see that he had not been mauled during the night. I quickly stripped him of all other clothes and accessories except for his dog-tags. If anyone were to ever come searching for us, he deserved to be identifiable, if found. I dragged his body to a shallow wash I had seen from the ledge, and then went to see what I could do about the corporal. There was an overturned desk near the same tree, so I muscled it under the branch that supported him. His weight was already causing the branch to sag considerably. My hope was that adding my weight to it would cause the branch to break. I was able to jump up and grab the branch and the jolt of my weight had the desire effect as I heard the branch crack nearer the tree trunk. It took several more bounces of my weight suspended from the branch until it broke and sagged down to the ground. I did the same for the corporal and placed them on top of each other in the wash. I then spent more time placing large rocks over the bodies. I figured that small scavengers could possibly wiggle between the rocks, but the rocks would keep the bodies protected from being moved. It was the best I could think of.
I had worked up a good sweat and realized that I had lost track of Bo. I whistled for him and he came crashing through the underbrush. I knelt down to give him a good petting and saw it in his face and eyes. He seemed so at home. I knew he wouldn’t have left me once we connected, but living in an apartment and only occasionally having the freedom of the outdoors wasn’t how he had lived.
I stood up and said to myself and to him, “Time to check out the river. We both need water.” I knew from experience that going without food for a couple days was not a problem. Water was critical, however. The effects of dehydration would be profound and would come on quickly.
The river was no more than a mile into the valley. It would be more of an effort to return than to get to it. Among the other debris, I had spotted several useable water bottles that must have come from various desks and workstations. I put several into a bag I found and brought them. Once we were near the lower tree line, I had a full view of the valley and mountains across the way. With that unobstructed view, it was clear why the view yesterday had bother me and it wasn’t because of the perspective from the ground level compared to the perspective from the elevated cafeteria windows. The view from the elevated position of the building was of a valley with a rapidly flowing river and mountain slopes on the opposite side rising through trees, to the tree line, before sloping steeply to the peaks. This view was different, but at the lower base level, it was similar. The problem with this view was that the mountains in front of me were nearly shear walls of rock and where the trees should have been was replaced by scars of rocky rubble, some of which blocked off the river just to the north. The wall of rock blocking the river to form a lake had to be 20 feet tall. Water was seeping from between the rocks and boulders like a sieve and created an image of a stairway waterfall.
I continued down to the river, alternating my eyes from the route in front of me, to the mountains across the valley, to the massive wall of rock to my right, and cycling back. The river was flowing strong and the water seemed to be free of discoloration and floating ‘things’. Bo and I drank our fill and I filled the water bottles. I sat down on the edge of the river and stared at the mountain scar and the wall of rocks. My mind was racing with options to consider, I still didn’t know ‘when’ or ‘where’ we were. The conclusion seemed inescapable, however. I had already eliminated the future since there was no evidence of the concrete structure on the mountainside behind me. Now, it seemed impossible for this to be the past because the mountain in front of me and the condition of the river did not exist in ‘our time’. Geological damage this significant would not have disappeared and the mountain reformed.