Ethan guided the e-bike onto the shoulder of the highway and looked back the way he’d come. It was a scenic road through the mountains he’d been up many times, but he found it hard to take in the forest’s beauty and canyon around him.
He checked his new watch he’d looted from Trailhead Outfitters. Only an hour had gone by since he’d made his escape from the city, but it felt like longer. He studied the road behind him for several minutes, wary of any sign of pursuit.
The transition from the empty city filled with empty buildings and cars to the serene calm of the mountains was a stark contrast — and not an entirely calming one. The crisp mountain air and wind blowing softly through the lush pine trees sharpened his senses. He sniffed himself and cringed. Chemical smoke, blood, and other fluids he didn’t want to think about didn’t create a great smell.
The adrenaline and after-effects of the red orbs had finally faded, and now the exhaustion settled deep in his bones, urging him to stop. Shrugging his shoulders, he decided this was as good a place as any to stop for the night.
Ethan had traveled up the canyon with little thought for where he was headed — only hoping to put as much distance as possible between him and the monster-infested city. He took in the area around him, towering pine trees and massive rock formations he might have enjoyed previously only enhanced his feeling of isolation. The nearby sound of running water prompted him to follow a narrow path leading into the thick forest.
A short stroll down the trail brought him to an idyllic campground with dense greenery on one side and a burbling creek on the other. Despite his dire situation, Ethan sighed contentedly, looking around with hands on hips. He was an avid camper and sought out spots exactly like this every chance he could. It was the one part of his life that he felt confident and in control of. He nodded to himself and turned back up the trail.
He hummed a John Denver song to himself as he carefully guided his bike down the trail. The oppressive despair that had been building within him receded as he lost himself in the familiar tasks of setting up camp.
He wasn’t sure why he’d grabbed a two-person tent. He hadn’t needed one for a while, and it seemed unlikely he would again any time soon, but it was nicer than any tent he’d ever owned, and he just couldn’t resist checking it off his wishlist.
Tent set up and bedding arranged on the small cot he’d looted, Ethan set about starting a small fire to cook dinner and clean off some of the grime and ash caked on his hands, face, and clothes. Using some firestarters and a lighter, he soon had a fire crackling merrily in the campground’s fire pit.
Darkness fell as he filled a pot of water in the stream and placed it over the fire to warm. He dug through his supply of survival rations and selected a fajita bowl from the assortment.
I probably shouldn’t like these things as much as I do, he thought cheerily as he checked on the water temperature. It was warm enough for him to clean with, so he siphoned some off into a bowl, leaving just enough to add to his rations.
Peeling off his bloodstained pants and ash-covered jacket, he shivered in the cool mountain air. He quickly sponged off with the warm water, paying extra attention to the grime and blood of the monsters that were caked on his hands and arms.
Once clean, he quickly dressed and took his soiled clothes over to the stream to soak them. Cleaning them completely seemed dubious at best, but worth a try. He took his sopping load of clothes back to the fire and arranged them so they would dry without lighting on fire. He’d see about patching the pants later.
By then, the water he’d left over the fire was boiling, and he sat down on a foldable stool to enjoy his dinner. Perhaps due to not having eaten anything all day, the meal was exceptionally delicious. He ravenously devoured it and fished for a granola bar as dessert.
Damn, should have grabbed some marshmallows, he thought with a grin.
He’d had a similar meal last summer, but Samantha had been with him then. The details bubbled up vividly as if it were yesterday.
“Ethan, these cannot be good for you,” she had said distrustfully as she surveyed the nutritional facts of the camping rations. “You keep saying how delicious they are, but have you looked at these ingredients? So artificial!”
Ethan let out a bark of laughter. “I didn’t hear too many complaints when I packed the stuff to make s’mores, Miss Sammy,” he quipped as he finished preparing their meals. He turned to face her, bowls in hand, and she stuck her tongue out at him.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Samantha had a few days off from her nursing job, and they had decided to go on a spur-of-the-moment road trip to Washington. The day had been spent hiking to reach a secluded lake, and now they huddled around their fire to warm up after swimming in the frigid mountain waters.
“Now, will it be the chicken alfredo or mac n’ cheese, m’lady?” he said, showing her the contents of each bowl with an exaggerated flourish. She smiled up at him radiantly, causing Ethan’s breath to catch. Her dark curly hair shimmered in the fading light, and her light brown eyes danced with the flames of their campfire.
Her full lips were always quirked in a knowing grin he didn’t think he’d ever tire of. What in God’s name is this girl doing with someone like me? he thought, not for the first time.
“Which one sucks less?” she asked, tilting her head quizzically. Ethan shrugged. “I think they both suck equally.”
She sighed and took the mac n’ cheese-filled bowl and stood up, gesturing for him to sit in the camp chair. “You sit here and I’ll sit on your lap,” she commanded. She was a full eight inches shorter than him but Ethan obeyed the diminutive woman with a snort.
“I will never say no to that, but it’s going to make it hard to eat,” he said as he took his seat. She plopped down on his lap and snuggled into him. “Deal with it,” she said. “I’m cold, and you are my space heater.”
“Sammy, you're not wearing pants,” Ethan pointed out, brushing a hand along her bare legs. She’d thrown on one of his sweaters when they’d gotten back from swimming but was otherwise unequipped to deal with the chilly mountain air.
“Who needs pants when I have a boyfriend?” she observed. Ethan smirked and opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t. You. Dare.” she said sternly, but a smirk tugged at her lips, telling him he didn’t need to say a word.
With that, she dug into her food, and Ethan followed suit. The sounds of their satisfied eating filled the next few minutes as they ate until their bellies were full. Their proximity made eating awkward, but Ethan wouldn’t trade the gorgeous woman sitting on his lap for anything in the world.
When they finished, Samantha got up and put their dishes away before returning to sit on his lap, arms draped around his neck. She looked him dead in the eyes, face completely serious, causing Ethan’s heart to speed up. He tenderly brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He waited with bated breath for her verdict on the meal.
“Okay, as much as it pains me to admit it… that was actually pretty damn good,” she said with a laugh.
Ethan grinned. “See? You just gotta trust me. I know all sorts of cool things I can show ya, Sammy baby.”
“Oh, yeah?” She arched a playful eyebrow, her lips curling into a sultry smile. “And what exactly do you plan on introducing me to, Mr. Palmer?”
A lump instantly formed in his throat, and his brain short-circuited. “I-I-I didn’t mean it like that, I just-” he stammered. Samantha put him out of his misery with a kiss. Her lips felt like heaven — warm and soft against his. He melted into her, pulling her close and kissing her in turn.
Her taste. Her scent. Every sensation combined to overwhelm in the best way imaginable.
After an eternity, they pulled back from each other. Eyes locked on one another in a moment of soulful connection.
“It’s time for bed,” she said, her tone leaving no room for discussion. Ethan couldn’t help himself. “Sure you don’t want s’mores first?” he asked with a smirk.
“Fuck the s’mores,” she said. Ethan’s mouth opened to say something stupid, but Samantha kissed him before he had a chance.
Now, months later, Ethan held that memory close as he sat in the cold mountains by himself. He’d give anything to have her here with him again, like they used to be. Before he’d gotten scared and distanced himself from her. Before the fighting. Before she left.
The mountain wind that had comforted him before now only reinforced the feeling of isolation he now felt — its whistling now haunting him rather than reassuring him. The small circle of light produced by the fire held back the oppressive dark of the mountains but made him feel as if he was alone in the world.
Anguish washed over him at the thought that Samantha was probably dead. He had pushed her away to avoid these feelings, but even though they'd been broken up for months, the grief hit him like a ton of bricks. She had been the one, and he’d fucked it up. And now, he was paying for it just the same. She was gone, like Mom was, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He scrubbed the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand and got up to douse the fire. The coals hissed as the water hit them, sending smoke spiraling into the air. Ethan watched it for a time. Night had fully fallen now, and the forest was pitch black around him.
To his surprise, a glimmer of hope that she could be alive still burned within him, but he wasn’t sure why. Hope is what always got him into situations like this, but until he knew for sure, he would keep hoping that she was alive.
.004% survival rate… he recalled. The system message had said something like that. He was sure he wasn’t the only one, and if there were other survivors, one could be Samantha. She was always so confident and sure of herself. If she survived, Ethan had no doubt she’d be able to take care of herself.
Ethan crawled into his tent, exhausted physically and emotionally. As he drifted to sleep, he made a conscious decision to continue hoping. The part that he wouldn’t admit to himself is that if he didn’t have hope, he didn’t feel like he had a reason to keep surviving.
What's your favorite camping food?
