Day 533: I'm not sure what to do. My leg is still busted up and This nutcase still hasn't told me his name. He's Just The Quonset Manager. And he left. He read what I wrote to double check it before "faxing" it to the head office then he abruptly went quiet. He just stood stock still for almost an hour. I was terrified to even speak to him.

 

You ever see someone about to explode? The body language? That was what it was like. For an HOUR.

 

Then he just abruptly started moving. He organized his backpack with the precision of a watch maker then took all the bullets. He left the rifles. Just took the bullets. And a bow. I asked if he could leave some bullets, just in case, but he said he didn't trust me not to kill myself.

 

I'm... not sure what I did to give him that impression. But that was his answer. Then he pointed to the two flare guns under the cash register and said I could use those in an emergency. But it would come out of my pay.

 

Oh. I'm getting paid three matches a day, plus room and board. It includes meal breaks. I'm to help myself to any of the cooked food, but not to touch the canned goods or deli meats.

 

Yes. We have a Deli section.

 

I'm getting ahead of myself. He left yesterday and he said he'd be back the day after the next aurora or in a week, which ever came first. Then he left. I've been walking around the place. The area is fairly picked over. I guess I'm writing this because

 

[several lines scribbled out]

 

Okay. No. I need. This isn't for him it's for me. Where was I?

 

Okay, so I woke up in the lighthouse in the late morning. I must have slept for over 12 hours. I took some time to finish searching the place and found a locker with a parka, wolf skin coat, deer skin pants and matching boots, a pair of puffy snow pants, and some bunny gloves. They were very musty. It was like they had been put here a year ago and forgotten about.

 

There were some medical supplies in the bottom along with a flint firestarter magnifying. The glass was scratched, the firestarter looked to be just about dead, but I'd take what I could get. The antibiotics had gone bad. Something was growing in the bottle. I grabbed what water was left, I had eaten all the crackers, and took a bundle of wood with me to make a fire later.

 

Honestly, I felt the best I had in a long time. That's was the problem. I let my guard down.

 

I didn't follow the arrows. They directed me to go straight down the side of a cliff. I'm afraid of heights. So I went straight for where the arrows were pointing. Nothing happened. No wolves. No problems. I got to old mine and went in. There were three road flares on the ground, signs of a fire, more water, and a trail of water bottles off into the darkness. It occurred to me this might be for emergencies, so I only took two, left one behind. Didn't take the water. I was doing okay.

 

The manager left a trail of water bottles through the mine. I didn't need the flare, I could have found my way through by just crawling and going from water bottle to water bottle, but I used the flare anyways. I feared it was a maze, but it was fairly direct. A few twists and few turns, but as long as I kept moving and followed the bottles, I'd be fine.

 

When I got the other side I found more water, signs of another fire, and a pile of firewood and coal. Here was a storm lantern Empty, but still. I used the fuel oil I found before with the flare and started up a nice fire.

 

By fire I mean a bonfire. I got that thing burning so hot it felt like the sun. I really just wanted to get warm and I hadn't felt that warm in a long time. I sort of lost it, I guess. I just kept burning stuff. Then I took a nap and woke up to the sun setting. I didn't pay attention and didn't want to get stuck there in a blizzard or something, so I grabbed all my stuff and moved on.

 

There were more arrows. Again pointing me down the side of a cliff. I ignored it like last time and moved along the road, having to detour around a washout. That's when the wolf found me. He came from around a boulder. I didn't even hear him. Next thing I know he's got his fangs sunk in my leg. He'd have took it off if it wasn't for my new deer hide leggings. As it stood he still twisted my knee in an unnatural direction.

 

Quick reflexes and the knife I kept since Rich and Hurl... Well. I stabbed it in the wolf's neck. That got him to let go and back off. He ran past the other three wolves. They forced me down the washout to the ice. While I backed up, I remembered the road flare and set it off. That made them back up a bit. The red spitting light put them on edge. Fortunately there was a bottle neck so they couldn't get around me, but I was still limping hard as my leg was really screwed up.

 

It's amazing how a little adrenaline to dull the pain and a little swelling to immobilize the knee can keep you going when you are terrified out of your mind.

 

I backed up from the wolves, figuring they were going to push me out onto the ice and corner me against the water, when I stumbled while backing up. Another arrow. Two in fact. One pointing at a cave, the other along the shore. Getting stuck in a dead end cave seemed like a bad idea, so I kept along the shore. The arrows pointed me back up to the road, and to a dead fall. I crawled under it and waited. This was a very narrow opening and if they were going to follow, this would be the best place to make my stand.

 

They gave up.

 

I stood there for a few minutes, up until the flare started to gutter out. That's when i turned and made a run for it. Or... limp for it. I guess.

 

I made it through a tight passage and came out on a road along the coast. The ice was vast. An abandoned car was nearby. I got inside and started to tend to my leg. The new pants helped protect it, but the bite still screwed me up. I was about to tilt the seat back when I saw the note.

 

It read, "Past this point, there be wolves. if you aren't up to it, use the flare gun and I'll come get you. Just part of the Quonset (where the water is always free) quality customer service!"

 

I couldn't believe my luck. I grabbed the gun. Opened the window. Aimed for the sky and pulled the trigger.

 

Nothing.

 

I opened up the gun. The flare was wet. It fell apart in my hands when I tried to take it out of the gun. The flare was useless. I shook out the gun then looked around, hoping he had left extras, something. There was nothing in the car save a glove box full of burnt out torches. So I closed the door and tilted back the seat.

 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I could feel my leg throbbing in time with my heart. I opened my eyes and looked out to see a most beautiful red sky as the sun disappeared. My options were stay here and freeze, or press on. So I took a deep breath, swung my way out of the car, screwed my courage to the sticking place, and got limping. I'd already moved several miles. This Quonset, whatever that was, had to be close by. Maybe there were other houses along the way. Someplace to crash. Either way, I pushed on.

 

I made good time, despite basically hopping down the road on one foot. No wolves.

 

I kept moving, figuring that at this point, any chance of being stealthy was out. What little speed I had was my only hope. Nothing but snow. No signs of civilization. The wind was picking up and the snow was gusting, so it was difficult to even see at times. I just kept putting one foot out ahead, then dragged the other along behind me. Suddenly I noticed something next to me. It was a sign. It was big and said, "GAS"

 

I looked around and had almost walked right by it. A garage. No name on the place anywhere, but it looked active. Fresh boot tracks in the snow leading to and fro, all around the area. Someone had been here, more likely, was still here.

 

I hopped over the barrier and immediately regretted it. The pain was tremendous, but I was this close, I wasn't going to allow myself to trip at the finish line. I hopped on one foot past a pile of car batteries and between two gas pumps to fall against the door. With my last strength, I yanked it open, pulled myself in, and slammed the door behind me. As I collapsed to the floor, I remember quite distinctly ringing sounds. I looked up and watched the bell attached to the door slowly bounce about and slowly come to a stop.

 

Nothing happened.

 

I called out, "hey." Then tried yelling, but could only squeak.

 

I pounded the door with my fist making the bell ring with each blow, "HEY!" I managed to croak out. Still nothing. I looked around and saw... so much stuff. The shelves were stocked. Little cards in front of various items declaring prices in matches. So much food. So many supplies. The floor was freshly swept. Someone was running this place. They just weren't home. But I knew they'd be back. Nobody would abandon all this.

 

So while I waited, I figured the floor was as good a place as any to take a nap.

 

Day 533 (Cont) : You know, I don't think anyone else has been here before. The rose hip tea is coming out of my paycheck, but it's doing wonders for the pain.

 

I can't believe I just wrote that.

 

There hasn't been another aurora, so QM isn't coming back today. I guess. Not much to do here. I thought about limping out to a nearby house, but I'm still healing. He's got enough wood in here to last a month. It's nice to keep warm. The smell is awful. He's got the entire garage covered in animal hides. The floor, the tire racks, the shelves... and a pile of dried out intestines is lying on the floor right next to one of the work benches. He seems to have a little cottage industry going of making fishing lines and small animal snares. but besides a pack of playing cards, I don't see any entertainment.

 

I guess that's why I'm writing this. To organize my thoughts as well as keep from going insane. Crazy going slowly am I. Rich used to sing that. A little song he'd do just to be annoying.  Why did

 

[scribbled out lines]

 

GAH!