Wanderer (Book 1): Wanderer

Eating only canned foods has left me craving something more.
I dressed in my fatigues and pulled out my compound hunting bow that I had acquired from my neighbor’s house.
He was an avid hunter and was gone almost once a month hunting anything he could get his hands on. He had a small son that he wanted to mold into a fine hunter whose birthday was coming up. He never got the chance though, the bow was still wrapped when I found it.
The hunter’s house had a musky smell about it and there was dust floating through the air giving everything an ethereal quality. Nothing appeared to have moved. It was almost like someone had furnished it then forgot about it.
It was eerie walking through there. I knew no one was coming home, but I always felt like I was going to be caught. And for some reason I was quiet when I was in there like the inhabitants were sleeping and I might wake them.
I didn’t find any food in there, just a fridge full of rotting who knows what.
I found the bow in the corner of the closet of what I would assume was the master bedroom, still wrapped. It wasn’t a professional bow by any means, just one of those learn to shoot kits you find at any sporting goods store, but it got the job done.
I placed it by the front door with every intention of adding other items to it, until I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. I seemed like a stranger in that mirror. A stranger who didn’t belong in this house, or any for that matter. I felt wrong looting through their personal things. The bow was one thing because it didn’t hold any sentimental value yet, but I couldn’t do that to the rest of their belongings.
I picked up the bow and left the house. I crossed the yard and headed back home. From that day on I never went into another home. I realized how dangerous that was, venturing into the unknown. What dangers could have lurked behind those millions of closed doors?
I didn’t bring Mandy hunting with me because I’d have to watch her and she would make too much noise.
It took me about an hour to get to the base of the hills that surround our city where I go to hunt. I’m careful to avoid any open areas that might make me an easy target to anyone else that might be surviving in this area.
Usually I bring home rabbits or the occasional squirrel. I stay away from the coyotes as they have a greater risk of carrying rabies. Plus they don’t usually come down this far unless it’s night time.
I picked my usual spot and hunkered in, waiting for something to cross my path. It wasn’t long before a rabbit came bounding into my field of view. It was a pretty good sized one too, maybe five or six pounds, it looked like it might have been someone’s pet at one point. It must have been a bully to have sustained that kind of weight for this long.
I silently drew an arrow out of my quiver and locked it into place along the handle. I was pulling the string back when I heard the leaves crunch behind me. I was too occupied with my rabbit that I didn’t realize something had snuck up on me.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t very big. I’m not sure if it was trying to be quiet or not, but it’s wasn’t doing a very good job. I was in camouflage so it might have been harder for them to have seen me, but did it matter? They could probably smell me.
I slowly turned until I was facing the opposite way. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Standing in the brush was a deer. I’ve never seen a deer in this area. The coyotes must have separated it from the herd and lost track of it. It’s small so it won’t be wasted.
I took my time. Quietly drawing the string back again, aiming at its heart, just behind the shoulder blades. My aim was true and the deer never felt a thing.
I would need to be quick getting it back to the house. I don’t want the blood attracting them.
For its size it was heavier than I had expected and it took me longer to get it back than I thought.
Once I got it home I took it straight into the garage. I’m no butcher and I’m not sure what’s edible, so I used my best guess. After I cleaned it and separated the pieces of meat, I brought what we needed inside. I left the bow in the garage fully intending to get it later and put it back in its place.
We hadn’t eaten that much in a long time. Venison stew with potatoes and carrots. Mandy was especially happy that she got something other than canned baked beans, and she got some new bones to chew on.
After the sun went down I burned what we didn’t use in the fire place, I was too tired and too full to take the left over parts to the trash dump. Hopefully the mask of darkness will hide the smoke.
We settled in to our spots in the living room, me on the la-z-boy, Mandy on the floor in front of me chewing on one of her new bones.
Tonight I decided to read an old Reader’s Digest magazine I found in the box from the attic while I listened to the radio. It was the search and rescue’s nightly broadcast.
I had found the radio one day while I was rummaging through the garage. It was one of the things my father deemed necessary to have in case of emergency.
I turned it on out of pure curiosity, not surprisingly, all I got was static. Except one station didn’t sound like all the rest. Instead of the high pitched swish sound this one only