The last sparse leaves of autumn had been swept away by the winds. Winter had arrived and snow was falling lightly. However, it was no longer a bright white; it was light-grey in colour and looked like ashes floating down from the sky. Wars and anarchy had finally taken its devastating toll; the extreme weather conditions that followed wiping out all but the hardiest of men and creatures all over the world. In the low rolling mountains of what used to be known as the Canadian Maritimes existed such a man and his adopted family, which consisted of a much younger woman and two small orphan boys. He had deliberately destroyed his once beautiful home when the poisonous winds from the south drifted across the mountains and through the valleys; his whole family dying before his very eyes. He had no idea why he was spared and at the time had wished that he'd died with them. But survival is the backbone of our very being and like it or not, no matter how destitute life may appear, we cling to it with all our remaining tenacity and strength. After burning his home, his dead wife and children all laid comfortably together on the living room floor, he constructed a small shack not too far from his house near a stream amongst what remained of a once vibrant forest. He knew, since most everything had been destroyed in the nuclear catastrophic event of three years earlier, whatever survivors remained were continually on the prowl for food - cannibalism was not unheard of.
The man was middle-aged, almost 47 years old but he looked like 60 or older - his face was thin, coursed with deep wrinkles, his eyes were deep-set and red-rimmed and he had very little hair remaining. Although he stood 6' tall, as if carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, because of his stooped posture, he now stood about 5'8". The young woman was only 18 years of age and she too looked much older and slightly stooped but it was because she was pregnant; she was carrying the man's child. The two boys were not actual brothers, nor were they related to the pregnant woman; they were all that remained of several families who had once been the man's neighbours. There were a few other small groups of people living in the not too distant vicinity. However, since food was very scarce, they too were struggling to survive.
The man had several weapons, which consisted of a shotgun, two hunting rifles, a .22 and a pistol he had found on the body of a dead soldier. He still had plenty of ammunition since there was very little game to be found and although he'd had several close encounters with ruthless marauders, he'd never been forced to defend himself.
A friend, a man of similar age, someone he'd grown up and gone to school with and shared many life-long experiences, had also survived. He lived about 2 miles away in a similar small shack, but with an older woman and no kids. They would sometimes get together, especially if one of them had miraculously bagged a deer; although even a coyote or a fox was considered tasty. Recently, the man had noticed a slight change in his friend. He couldn't put a finger on the problem, just intuitively knew something wasn't quite right, especially when he glimpsed him looking at his pregnant woman in somewhat of a lecherous fashion.
To be continued - cheers - eh!
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