The woman stood motionless, braced against the pine tree. She slowed her breathing, trying to blend as carefully as she could as she felt her heartbeat racing. She'd had to sprint halfway up the mountain to get here in time, nearly missing her target as he tried to cross the range. Her target was about a half mile away now, just emerging from the treeline and looking forward the ridge above. If he could just crest the ridge, drop down the other side, and make it to the next rise, he'd be safe. But the woman wanted ... needed ... to stop him. Nothing less was acceptable to her.
She picked her way between the pines, moving slowly, focusing on walking without making a sound and always, always blending with her surroundings. Be the leaf. Be the tree. Be the rock. What does a rock think about? Silence, stillness. So she must think about silence while she makes her stalk. Does a rock look at the prey? No, so she must not look at the prey. Sometimes, prey was aware eyes were on it, supernatural senses alerting them to danger, so she must look everywhere but the target, until it was too te for the target and she could strike.
She was now a quarter mile away, able to see her target more clearly. The target was simirly trying to blend with his surroundings, figuring out how to pick his way up the ridge without being visible. Unfortunately for the target, she was better. The target began to creep, very slowly, out of the tree cover and toward the crest of the ridge. He moved slowly, each pace cautious, ensuring he had boulders to stay near for cover. The target's head swiveled in all directions, painfully aware of the risk he was taking by trying to cross the mountain, but needing to do so regardless.
The woman continued her stalk, getting closer and closer. She was now a hundred yards from where the target had left the tree cover, advancing more rapidly now. As she reached the treeline, she paused, flipping her jacket inside out, the greens and browns being repced by grays and bcks, stuffing her long brown hair under a gray beanie, and crept forward, entering the rock field. She did not dare look at the target, trying to keep as many rocks between the two as possible, moving as fast as moss grows, inching her way forward, paralleling the target's path up the ridge.
She was close, able to hear his breathing now, as he continued picking his way up the ridge. She could hear the scrabble of rocks as he tried to trade stealth for speed and the whispered curse as a fist-sized rock shifted and bounced down the hill. The woman paused, readying herself for action. The target was just on the other side of this boulder, less than fifteen yards from the crest of the ridge line and safety beyond. She reached under her jacket, drawing her knife and double-checking the edge. Perfect.
She sensed, rather than heard, when the target shifted his body weight, preparing to sprint for the ridge. She acted first, leaping and screaming a war cry, bounding over the boulder that separated the two. Her hands came together, the knife over her head, as she drove it down toward the target. It was a perfect stalk.
The man turned, shock on his face, as the blue pstic knife impacted him on the colr bone. "FUCK," he yelled, stumbling backward. "Goddamn it, I thought I had it this time. Where the hell did you even come from, squirt?" He stood, wincing and pressing a hand to his lower back. "You are getting too damn sneaky."
The woman beamed, pleased by the praise. "You taught me well, daddy. I knew you prefer crossing the Wind Rivers here because the slope is easier on your knees, so I ran the ridge line south to try to beat you, then caught a glimpse as you were getting ready for your approach. I worked my way through the trees until I got close, then snuck up behind you. Then boom! Here I am."
"Son of a ..." the man shook his head, pride and wonder on his face. "I was watching as I crept up through the rocks here. And you stalked me up the ridge, just paces behind me. I must be getting old. You are incredible, Deirdre." He pulled the woman, his daughter, close and hugged her. "Okay, breakfast is on me. What would you like?"
Deirdre paused, thinking. She knew what she would prefer, but she also knew what her dad liked - and what he liked to cook. "How about a big sb of bacon and some eggs, please?"
Her father rolled his eyes, knowing his daughter's thoughts. "Sure, but only if you let me cook some pancakes, too." She beamed at him, excited for the carbs. "Now let's hike on back down to the four-wheeler I left at the base of the mountain yesterday. We can be home before long, and then it's cooking time."
She grinned, happy they had reached their usual compromise. Deirdre Jones was twenty-one years old, a modest five-foot four inches, had long brown hair and brown eyes, and lived with her father on their ranch outside Bondurant, Wyoming. They had moved here when her mother had died when she was six. The first years were difficult, her father had crawled into a bottle and refused to come out until she was practically a teenager. Over the years though, they had reached an understanding. Nobody ever mentioned mom, they focused on farming, hiking, hunting, and enjoying the outdoors, and it kept the demons at bay. It was a lonely life, not many other young adults around, but she didn't mind - she'd known nothing else for as long as she could remember.
The two of them started trekking down the mountain, slowly picking their way through the boulder field and back into the trees, the scrappy pines providing a decent amount of cover from the early morning sun. There was still a bit of a chill, this high up, despite it being mid-August. By lunch though, she was sure it would be warm enough she'd be back in a tank top when doing her chores. For now though, the jacket kept the morning temperatures at bay.
Deirdre paused, feeling something wrong. She felt a thrumming sound - deep in her bones - as everything seemed to freeze, her father mid-step about ten paces to her left, walking around a tree. The sound intensified, doubling in volume and rattling her teeth. Her vision faded to white, then violently shifted through a range of colors she couldn't even describe, ending at a pid-patterned purple that seemed to vibrate in time with the thrumming sound, before finally there was a loud pop that knocked her unconscious and everything went bck.
---
Deirdre blinked her eyes, the world fading back into focus. She stared at the forest floor, inches from her face, and felt scratches and bruises from where she must have fallen. Strange ... she'd never had any kind of health issue like this before. She pulled herself to her feet, gncing around. Everything seemed exactly as it had been, except ... "Dad?" She spun, looking but not seeing her father. "Dad?" Deirdre turned, finding the tree he'd been walking around when she'd had her weird seizure. She ran, reaching it quickly, but again not seeing him.
"Daddy?" She yelled, her voice cracking in panic. He was gone, completely without a trace. His footsteps traced a path along the ground, something she could easily track, until he literally vanished into thin air. There was no way, it was impossible to vanish that thoroughly. She pulled out her radio, something that the two of them carried in the mountains just in case, but rarely used. She pressed the transmit button, "Dad, this is Dee - come in, over."
She released the button, realizing she hadn't heard the familiar beep of the radio. She gnced down at it, noting that it was off. She tried to turn it on, but nothing happened. The radio, which she was sure she had charged the previous day, did nothing. She gnced at her watch, which was an old-school G-Shock watch. It was also off, the screen bnk. What in the world? She checked her cell phone, which had no service in the mountains, so she kept it off. She tried to power it on ... nothing. Wouldn't turn on. Did they get nuked?
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Odd green letters floated in her vision, the words legible but not registering in her brain. "DADDY?!" Deirdre's voice broke as the strangeness began to transform into fear in her mind, screaming now in panic. "DADDY WHERE ARE YOU?" She sank to her knees, sobbing. She had no idea what was going on right now, but the one thing in her life she loved more than anything else, the one thing she'd had through good and bad, her father, was missing and the world had gone incredibly strange.
Deirdre continued sobbing, colpsing back against a pine tree. She had no idea for how long she sat there crying, but as she felt the chill of evening and noticed the sun beginning to dim, she realized she'd apparently sat there all day long - and now she was thirsty. Okay, the time to panic was over. She was a strong, independent woman. She'd hike down to the four-wheeler, drive that back to the ranch, and figure out what was going on from there. Deirdre stood, brushing the dirt from her pants and wiping her face clean of tears. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She could do this.
As she started down the mountain, she tried to take stock of what she knew. Electronics seemed to not function anymore. She could rationally expin that. A nuclear bst triggers an electromagnetic pulse, which fries unprotected circuits. Okay, makes sense, although she didn't see a nuke - but there was that weird colpse she'd had. Her father vanishing into thin air ... nope. No rational expnation for that. And the weird mystery letters that floated in her vision? Also, no. Fuck. Deirdre really had no idea what was going on, but hoped by getting back to the ranch she could at least eat some food and maybe get a good night's sleep, then she'd feel better.
By the time she reached the bottom where her dad had said he'd left the four-wheeler, the sun was down and unfortunately Deirdre's headmp didn't work either. And, of course, the all-terrain vehicle didn't start up when she tried. It probably got fried by the same disruption that took out her radio, watch, phone, and everything else. On the plus side, her dad had apparently left a pack - so she sat down on it and grabbed some trail rations, heating them on a camp stove and digging in. She was absolutely starving and the beef sagna tasted like heaven. He'd also left a water skin, which she practically drained, her body thirsting after spending the day crying. Okay, she was feeling a little better now with a full stomach.
Unfortunately, Deirdre knew that to get home on foot was going to be at least a five-hour hike, possibly six, when the sun was up. And doing it at night without a headmp was a recipe for disaster - broken ankles or worse. She didn't have any camping gear here, her father obviously assuming they'd be home before dark. She did her best, wrapping herself into a ball and ying near the camp stove, the tiny warmth left in it helping to counter the chill of the evening. She leaned back against the four-wheeler, closed her eyes, and let sleep take her.
She awoke, suddenly aware she was not alone. Something moved, just a few feet away. Deirdre carefully scanned, the moon overhead providing a faint glimmer of light. She froze, not daring to breathe. A gray wolf sniffed at the air, not ten feet from her position. The predator gnced at her, its mouth opening in a soundless snarl, teeth bared. Deirdre slowly inched her hand toward her waist, trying not to startle the creature, as she felt for her pistol. The .45 caliber handgun didn't have many rounds, but it should absolutely work to kill or at least injure the wolf badly enough to leave her alone. She hated to do it, but she wasn't going to be a midnight snack for a wolf pack. Pack ... she froze, fingers on the cold metal of the handgun, as three more wolves padded into the clearing, just paces away from her.
The wolves all turned, staring at her, their breath steaming in the midnight air. Deirdre was absolutely fucked, there was no way she could take down four wolves at less than twenty feet from a seated draw - but she was going to have to try. She screamed, trying to startle the wolves, as she pulled her pistol, the steel familiar and heavy in her hands as she punched the weapon forward, aiming for the nearest wolf. The tritium sights glowed faintly in the moonlight as she acquired a sight picture, her finger pulling the trigger rearward in a clean break ... nothing. Misfire? Her body immediately went into action, sweeping a hand across the top of the slide, smming the bottom of the magazine to ensure it was seated correctly, racking the firearm's slide once more, a round spinning off into the darkness as a new one was chambered.
Deirdre punched the pistol forward again, squeezing the trigger. Again, silence. The wolves continued staring at her, watching the panicked woman as she once again tried to clear a malfunction on the pistol. She pressed the magazine release, dropping it from the pistol as she harshly twisted the weapon, pulling her spare from her belt and spping it pce. Once again, she racked the slide, propelling a fresh round into the chamber of the pistol. Once again, she tried to shoot the nearest wolf ... and nothing happened.
"What the FUCK," she screamed, throwing the weapon at the wolf, who sidestepped the spinning chunk of metal and pstic. "An electromagnetic pulse doesn't break pistols! Now you're just going to fucking eat me, aren't you? FINE!" Deirdre sank back to her knees, sobbing, pressing her face into her hands. Nothing made sense anymore in this world. She froze, feeling something warm and soft pressing against her. Deirdre gnced up. The four wolves all now stood on the opposite side of the clearing again, having walked away from the crying woman. Instead, a pup remained, having walked up to her and pressed itself against her. The wolf pup pressed forward, nuzzling into her chest and licking the tears from her face.
The pack of wolves padded off into the darkness without so much as a whisper of noise. The moon shone down, illuminating the woman and the wolf pup resting against the four-wheeler. Deirdre pulled the creature close, hugging it to her chest, as it wagged its tail happily. Her brown hair cascaded down around the two of them in the crisp night air, revealing a pair of elongated ears.
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WhimsicalLantern
