I awoke instantly, becoming fully aware of my surroundings. It was still dark and the fire had burnt down to embers. The air was chilly in my half naked state but my mind was sharp and I could feel my heart slamming against my chest. My adrenaline was in full gear. Something was watching me.

Humans have lost a great deal of their instincts due to civilization, but mine were still working well enough to wake me up when danger was near. I didn’t make any sudden movements, but slowly inched my hand nearer to the fire where I’d laid my improvised spear. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it. I’d never seriously fought anyone or anything in my whole life. The closest I’d ever come was punching some idiot frat-boy at a kegger.

Apparently, my stealth techniques left a lot to be desired because I’d no sooner wrapped my hand around the spear, when I heard a loud bark and a mountain of grey fur leapt at me from the darkness.

It hit me square in the chest and it’s momentum sent us sprawling in a tangle of limbs. I could see nothing in the scuffle but fur and teeth. I managed to get my hands under it’s head and pushed back enough to bring the thing into focus. It was a wolf. A REAL wolf, not one of those domesticated quarter-breeds some people keep as pets, but an honest to god wolf with fangs, jaws, and the whole mess.

I panicked for the second time today. It had probably smelled the fish cooking and come to investigate, the fire must have kept it at bay but when it died down to embers I’d lost my shield and he’d come to find his supper. Luckily, I’d woken up or it would have had my throat before I even knew what happened.

We continued our struggle on the ground. I was stronger and had the weight advantage, but it had fangs, claws, and a lower center of gravity. It clawed my legs, but I managed to keep it away from my vital parts. Finally I got some decent leverage and used my shoulders and hips to hurl the thing off me.

I scrambled to my feet and grabbed up my spear. I had no plan and no thoughts. I was running on pure primal urge and my adrenaline told my inner cave man to smash. Ug was getting a workout today. The wolf jumped again and I met it with my spear tip. The spear gouged into the wolf, but I’d made it for fishing, not fighting. The thin stick broke with a snap, and left me weaponless as the beast came again.

This time I could only get my arm in the way of it’s jaws. It bit deep, and blood poured from the wound as I fell to my knees. I leaned my weight against the beasts rush, locking us into another brute struggle. My right hand landed on my walking stick and I grabbed it as a life line. It was longer and thicker and although it wasn’t sharp, I could at least use it as a makeshift club. I jabbed it into the wolf's belly one handed. It wasn’t going to do much damage, but It must have hurt, because the wolf yelped and let go of my now mangled left arm.

I rolled away and came up on one knee as the wolf rushed back in. This time I had a solid base and managed to get both hands on the stick. I swung in a wide horizontal arc with all the strength I could manage. I’m not a bodybuilder, and I’d be caught dead before going to a gym but I’m am a big guy, and baseball was always my sport. The stick whistled as it split the air and hit the wolf square. I missed it’s head but connected with it’s right-rear hip A loud CRACK echoed through the forest as my stick broke. This time however it WAS a real weapon, and the damage had been done.

The wolf let out a sharp whine as it plowed into me. I fell on my back and could feel it’s breath on my face as we struggled in the dirt. I defended my face and neck with my arms, but it attacked my exposed stomach with it’s front claws. I felt a red-hot pain in my stomach and more blood left my body. The sound of my beating heart seemed to amplify as my vision started to dim.

I will not die here….

I used both my hands and clamped down on the wolf. I let out a roar and used all the strength in my shoulders and back as I lifted the wolf off of me. Then I rotated my hips and slammed it back down on the ground while I rolled on top of it. Releasing the grip of my right hand, I put my forearm across its throat and pressed all my weight and strength down. It’s struggles became manic and it clawed wildly at my arms, legs, stomach, and anything else it could reach. I ignored the wounds and pressed down even harder.

The sound of my pounding heart grew louder as the wolves struggles became weaker but I didn’t let up, I was filled with rage, pumped full of adrenaline, and my mind was going blank. There was nothing in the world but me and the wolf.

I’m not sure who lost consciousness first.

*****************

I awoke around mid-morning to the sounds of birds and the gurgling stream. I groaned and rolled over before my mind caught up and I stumbled to my feet and looked around frantically. The motion made my wounds pull and I cried out as pain racked me.

The wolf was gone. I could see the claw marks and ruts in the ground where we had fought, and both of the broken sticks were still laying on the ground, but the wolf had completely vanished. There wasn’t even a trace of blood, mine or the wolves. Shaking my head in confusion I relieved myself against a tree, then limped over to the stream. I took a few good gulps of water out of my cupped hands, then washed myself in the stream. The cold water brought me back to life and although I didn’t have any soap, washing off the sweat and dried blood felt nice.

I took stock of my injuries. My arm and stomach were a mess, the blood had clotted but the wounds were still mostly open. My back and abs twinged every time I moved my legs, and I was covered in more minor wounds. The wolf must have torn my abs and I likely strained my back when I took that huge swing. Honestly I was amazed I could even stand. Hell I was surprised I hadn’t bled out. I’m was pretty sure I had almost died.

After I finished gingerly bathing, making sure I didn’t start bleeding again, I took the time to make myself another spear, and hunt up another fish. With my wounds the process was a great deal more time consuming and painful. The fire was easier, as I managed to dig some still live coals out of the ashes. It only took a few minutes and some more grass to get it going again.

I just leaned up against the log and sat staring at nothing. With my injuries walking back to the cave was going to take forever and be extremely painful. Besides, who knew what other crap was in this forest. With my luck I’d probably run into a mountain-lion or a grizzly bear next. I didn’t even know where I was. I might run into a Siberian tiger or a damn Sasquatch. I wasn’t going to rule out anything at this point. Feeling depressed and lacking ambition I drifted back off to sleep.

It was mid-afternoon when I woke. I opened my eyes feeling surprisingly energetic. I stood up gingerly, and my back and abs twinged again, but the pain from the wounds had mostly gone. I supposed the torn abs, and strained back weren’t going to change much from an afternoons rest. The wound on my stomach looked a lot better, too good really. The claw marks looked a great deal smaller, and it appeared some skin was even growing back. My arm looked almost fully healed, and it had full range of motion.

“This is too weird.” I muttered. It looked like I’d been laid up for a week, but I couldn’t have slept more than three or four hours. The fire was still burning. Trying to pry my brain away from thoughts that were just going to depress me again, I decided it was time to continue with my plan for the day which was getting my knife back. I was apparently going to need the thing after all, and it would save me a lot of time in the future while I walked my way back to civilization.

It took me two hours to get back to the cave. Luckily I hadn’t left the creek, and after yesterday’s events I was going to stay close. With no way to store water, and no way to store food staying close to the small stream made too much sense. Besides since I didn’t know where I was anyway, wandering through the forest blindly would just get me lost. This way I could at least follow the river until I found a road. I might even run into a town. The knife was exactly where I had left it. So with my goal already accomplished and still feeling full from lunch I set off exploring, heading north along the stream.

It was near nightfall when I finally found a road. Although “road” might be a bit of a stretch, It was more a dirt path. Although, someone had managed to build a crude bridge out of rocks and raw timber. It might have been possible to cross the thing in a car, but I wouldn't wanna chance it in my old ratty Carolla. Since it was getting close to sun-down and I still had no idea which way to go, I set about rebuilding my fire and making some dinner. It was harder going than last time because I couldn’t find any dead logs, but I managed. The fish were just about done, when I heard a rattling in the distance.

I couldn’t see anything but the sound was growing louder.My fish going to burn if I wandered off to check, so I opted to wait. Sure enough, a few minutes later a cart trundled down the road pulled by a mangy looking mule. A small plump man sat on the driver's seat, chewing on a cat-tail and wielding a long light pole. Occasionally he give the mule a tap, but the animal seemed docile enough. He was wearing, some kind of old fashioned clothing, with a pair of high boots, and a purple linen shirt that was sporting white ruffles at the sleeves and neck. It looked like something out of a renaissance fair.It once again made me question the events of the past two days. I’d tried not to think too hard about my situation today. I wanted to avoid getting depressed, and the long walk, my injuries, and the work of setting up camp had kept me properly distracted. Seeing this man brought it all back and I struggled to keep my calm when as he crossed the bridge and stopped his mule next to my fire.