Read Online Robert Crews by Thomas Berger - Free Book Online Page B

away from the wind. But his knee seemed somewhat better as he tried to retrace his route in seeking refuge from the storm and find the possessions he had dropped. Eventually he collected everything but the damaged picnic hamper, which had probably been hurled away in one of the cyclonic blasts that had also felled several of the trees within his range of vision. He had heard some of the commotion during the night but had apparently slept through even more, knowledge of which he found reassuring: he had by combined instinct and accident taken the most effective hiding place that the forest offered against the assault of nature.
    There had been only two choices the day before, and they had not been changed by the storm: wait for rescue on the shore of the lake, where he could be best seen from the air, or choose a direction and hike out of the wilderness. If he stayed near the lake he should fashion better means by which to make his presence conspicuous. He had to think of some way to keep a fire going in inclement weather. He needed better shelter if he was to spend another night in the outdoors. If he chose to walk, he required some kind of footgear, and his route should be determined according to some scheme. In terrain such as that which presumably lay before him whichever the direction, it would be easy to travel in circles. In any case, he needed food. He had not eaten for two days, and while he was not yet in the condition called, in civilization, hungry (as when one who has missed dinner lurches into an all-night diner), his new rationality told him he would soon require nourishment. He could not survive forever on only the persistent metallic taste in his mouth.
    In lieu of making a decision, he decided to reconnoiter the adjacent area of the forest. He had penetrated the trees only fifty yards or so from the beach. Exploring a bit farther would not be imprudent.
    He went only another hundred yards before emerging from the woods into a clearing in which stood the bare, broken, dead stumps of many trees, some with fallen trunks beside them, others standing alone. The devastation, which under other conditions might have been seen as ugly disorder, could only mean that human beings had been there. The stumps were pointed like sharpened pencils, not broken off jaggedly as if by winds. Why they were not of uniform height, if the chopping had been to gain lumber, and why so many of the fallen trees had not been hauled away, was of no substantive concern. He was not in a position to be offended by vandalism when the vandals were fellow men. Even if they were no longer on the scene, their trail in reaching this place could surely be traced back to where they had come from.
    Civilization must be reasonably close by, even if, as was probable, the visitors had used vehicles. In such a region, distances were gauged by another measure than that of city taxi-cabs. He might be in for a long hike. But he would be thrilled to make the effort. The worst thing about being lost in this way was seldom knowing what to do beyond the emergency requirement, which was invariably of a negative nature: finding protection against drowning, freezing, starving, or an attack by a wild animal. At last he had an altogether positive task. Once he reached a main road, he would probably be picked up by a car or truck long before he had walked as far as a town.
    He decided to keep going now, abandoning the few possessions parked back by the fallen log. Hiking would make him warm enough not to need the other articles of damp clothing. His knee was without pain today, and his bare feet were not uncomfortable, especially now that the ground was wet … and growing wetter, much more so than could have been caused by the recent rain, which anyway had almost stopped. In fact he was ankle-deep in a swamp, which soon gave way to an outright pond. He stopped to get his bearings. Now his knee had begun to hurt, and he was nowhere near anything that could be a