June 8th. 9pm
In his well constructed shelter built into Goodenough Peak, Bruce was finishing up his dinner, which consisted of bear bacon with canned peas and green peppers. He mentally reminded himself to get some more bear meat the next time he went hunting, as he was running low. Fresh food was always a challenge to get near Goodenough Peak, Washingtion. He only went into Chopaka, which was the nearest town, once per week to get supplies, beers and to meet with some of his hunting buddies. Bruce quickly finished up his dinner and prepared to go on patrol, a duty he shared with the rest of his survivalist neighbours and he was on first watch. Bruce brought with him a good hunting rifle, a holstered pistol, a few knives, a radio and his GPS. As he left his shelter, he checked the traps he had set out to see if any animal or person had wandered into them. Bruce found the traps clear, so he set out. It was a warm and still night, with only the occasional animal sound breaking the scilence.
It was around 12:30 when Bruce had returned back to his main shelter. He carefully made his way through the traps around his house, both relieved and disappointed that it was such a quiet patrol. He settled down for bed, as he had to go to town early tomorrow. Just before he settled in he turned to a picture of his wife and kids at Mt. Baker National Park that he had on his night stand.
That picture always made Bruce feel guilty for making them believe he was dead but it was for their own good. He had been working in the Black Ops for years and he can accumulated many terrorist and criminal enemies who would want to harm him in any way possible after what he and his team had done to their organizations. He wanted them safe, although he could not lie to himself about the lack of emotional closeness to his children and his wife. They never knew that he was in the Black Ops or even a fraction of the atrocities he had committed in the name of peace, liberty and the American way. They were old enough to be on their own anyway, and he had left his children with sufficent funds to get them through their education and his wife enough to live off of comfortably if she kept working and budgeted properly (which he knew she would). He wanted to make sure they never had to live theharsh and demanding life he did and they would be far from the evil that he fought with all throughout his life.
Bruce shook his head in an attempt to break his dark mood and settled into his bed. He turned off the lights and slowly went to sleep.
Bruce awoke to his alarm clock at 7:30am. He turned on his diesel power generator and had some oatmeal while it started up. Using satellite internet, he check the morning news and to see if one of his contacts had any information or weapons for him. Not seeing anything of note news-wise and no messages from his contacts, he decided to prepare for his day in Chopaka. He left 5 minutes later, having to go down the mountain to Steve's shelter. Steve was a fellow survivalist, a young adult who was worried about the One World Government and alien conspiracy theories. While Bruce didn't really care for Steve's obsessions, Steve did have a car, access to the road and was quite good at bowling.
When Bruce knocked on Steve's door, Steve's muffled voice answered"Whats the Password". Bruce sighed "Meticulous Mary made much money... You know these are over the top, even for careful folk like ourselves."Bruce could here Steve smirking "It never hurts to be more watchful Bruce. Are you ready to go to town?"
Steve and Bruce quickly got into the pick up and on the way down Steve shared his concern about the suspicous skittish behaviour of the local wild life. Bruce had seen it too but he had put it off as the animals sensing a coming natural disaster, like an earthquake in California or a wildfire. Bruce had stopped worring about it and told Steve to not be so worried about natural occurances citing "What natural disaster happens in the middle of nowhere Washington State? We just don't get many and the ones we do are minor." Steve seemed unconvinced.
They finally reached town and got building supplies for repairs, some food and beer and finally some ammo for their hunting rifles. After the supply run, Steve and Bruce had brunch in a local dinner. By 11am, they left to meet up with some of the other local hunters at Chopaka's sole bowling alley. After a rousing round (Bruce's score was less than Steve's, because bowling was not a skill that was trained in the military), the group went their different ways. Bruce had promised some of his hunting buddies a fishing trip for next week.
It was 2:45 by the time Steve had driven Bruce back up the mountain and Bruce got his supplies back to his main shelter. Bruce had a small nap and started to read Fyodor Dostoyevsky's "The Brothers Karamazov", with music from Igor Stravinsky's "The Firebird" playing in the background. Bruce had first watch angain tonight and wanted to be well rested for his patrol. Hours passed by, and by 8:30 Bruce had to quickly make dinner so he would be out in time for his patrol. Bruce was about to go out of his doorway when Steve's comment about the animal's unease struck him. Although he felt a bit silly for allowing steve's comment to get to him, Bruce brought one of his larger rifles. Bruce hoped he would not need it. As he left his home, his digital clock read 9pm... (midnight EST)
June 9th, 9pm
Bruce stumbles while walking. An unusual occourance, as he is usually very sure-footed, and he knows these woods inside-out. His foot feels a bit heavy, and yet light. Like it's gone to sleep. He stops. It seems light out for 9pm. And the sky, if anything, is only getting brighter.
That's not right. Bruce continues walking, at a brisker pace. But his legs don't seem to be cooperating. He stumbles again. Everything is brightening, and he is hot. Too hot. His body all over goes numb. Bruce turns around, heading back for his shelter. He needs to lie down. But he cannot move, or see. Everything is numb and white. Bruce falls, but doesn't feel the ground hit him.