Анатолий Бускин – A touch of crimson light (страница 2)

"I survived," he thought, feeling fatigue come over him.

And with that thought, he drifted into sleep.

Chapter 2: The Road to the Forest Home

Chris lay on the hay, twitching and muttering. He was having a dream in which he was trying to catch up with his beloved Mary. They were running in the woods, and Mary kept trying to get away from Chris. He tried to catch her from behind a tree, but missed every time. They laughed, but Chris couldn't catch Mary's hand.

There was a lot of fog around, which gradually became thicker and thicker. The fog turned a purple color, and Chris began to peer into the thicket. He saw two familiar rocks that connected him to the hunt. He looked back at Mary and saw intense fear in her eyes.

– What's wrong? – Chris tried to say, but heard himself in a distorted voice. Mary shrieked suddenly:

– Chris!

He jerked sharply and woke up.

Realizing he was in the hangar, Chris felt pain from the bruises he had received in the crash. He tried to stand up, clenching his teeth against the pain in his side.

– Well, it looks like a cracked rib," he thought. Chris got up and walked to the hangar gate and opened the half-broken gate. Squinting against the sunlight, he stepped outside.

Chris looked around and wondered what to do next. He realized that if he got to the road, he would have to walk seven kilometers more to his house in the woods than if he walked through the forest. Chris was well oriented in these parts and knew that the forest was his fastest route.

He was running through his head how to contact Ted, who lived three kilometers from Chris's forest home. But first he needed to get to the cabin. Chris looked up at the sun to see where north was and where south was. He quickly oriented himself and moved toward the forest.

The forest was sparse, and Chris slowly but surely made his way deeper into the thicket. The forest was thick, and Chris walked slowly but steadily into the thicket.

– I would never hurt Mary," he muttered. Chris thought about the airplane that had gone down yesterday. It was clearly not a passenger airliner, but a freighter. He tried to recall important details and suddenly remembered that the tail of the airplane was labeled "Atmosphere".

– We'll have to hurry to get there before dark," Chris sighed and quickened his pace. As he made his way through the forest, he noticed that it was getting denser. It was good that it was not cloudy today, so he could orient himself by the sun. But he had to take into account the radius of change of direction every hour. Chris knew these places well because of his training. His father had been a wilderness survivalist for many years and had taught Chris everything he needed to know. It was his father who built this house in the woods.

After a few hours of wandering, Chris saw familiar places – two large rocks where he had once shot a wild boar, just like the ones he had seen in his dream.

– Yes, this is it," he exclaimed. – This is the place.

Chris quickly oriented himself in which direction to go to get on the hunting trail and reach his native forest home.

When he found the path, Chris tried his best to walk faster. He was so exhausted that he could hardly feel his legs. The terrible pain from his bruises reminded him that he was still on his feet. The sun was beginning to set when Chris noticed a bright glow that cast a purple light over the area.

– There's that glow again," he muttered, feeling uneasy. As he emerged from the thicket of the forest, he saw the roof of his forest home.

– Finally," he said with relief. But then he smelled a strange odor in the air. It was like the smell after a thunderstorm, only stronger. Chris thought he'd smelled it before, when the plane went down.

Suddenly Chris began to feel very dizzy. He realized that he had to speed up. Gathering all his strength, he ran towards the house. A crimson glow filled his entire gaze. It was a beautiful but ominous sight. Fear was growing.

Chris ran with all his might. His legs seemed to twitch, and his arms were cramping. Suddenly he stopped and threw his head back.

– What's happening to me? – he whispered. – Am I dead? – Is that the end of it?!

There was a lump in his throat, and he felt very sick at the thought that he would never see his Mary again. He remembered the dream he had seen in the hangar. It was as if he had seen Mary's silhouette in the fog, running from him toward the house, looking back and smiling.

Chris tried to move toward Mary. His legs wouldn't listen, and his hands felt like they were grasping for air. But he kept going. Suddenly his hand hit the porch railing. Chris grasped it as hard as he could and began to climb toward the door.

When he reached the door, he yanked on the knob, and the door popped the lock with a crash. As soon as Chris was inside the house, everything was muted, and he felt much better. He took a few steps into the back of the room and collapsed, unconscious.

Chapter 3: Radio Communications

Chris lay on the floor, feeling the morning sunlight through the ajar door. His body felt heavy and stiff, his head humming as if a thousand tiny hammers were beating inside. He raised his head slowly, trying to realize what had happened. His eyes were still hazy, but he gradually began to make out the outline of the room: an old wooden table and cracked floorboards brought Chris to consciousness.

Suddenly he remembered. A wave of panic swept over him. He struggled to his feet, feeling his knees shake and the pain throbbing in his temples. Going to the door, Chris gingerly touched the broken lock.

Chris looked out into the yard and squinted against the bright light. It was a sunny day, birds chirping in the distance, a light breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees.

Chris closed the door and headed for the sink. He turned on the faucet, and cold water came in a thin trickle. He leaned over and greedily clung to the faucet, feeling the water fill his parched throat. The taste was surprisingly pleasant, as if he'd never drunk anything like it before.

Chris washed his face with his shirt sleeve and looked at himself in the mirror. His reflection was pale and haggard, with dark circles under his eyes. He remembered again what had happened. The plane crash, the impact, the pain, the loss of consciousness.

On the second floor was the small radio room he and Ted used for hunting. Chris walked up the creaky steps, feeling his heart beating faster with each step.

– I hope the solar panels are working," Chris said to himself.

Stepping into the room, Chris flicked a switch and the lights came on.

– They're still working," Chris thought with relief.

Chris was an expert in the field installation of solar powered LED lighting fixtures. His professional activities involved frequent business trips.

Chris turned on the radio and twisted the tuning knob, but all he heard was hissing. "This thing only has a five kilometer radius," he thought. – "Only Ted lives within that zone. It won't reach the city." He frowned and tried once more to catch a signal, but to no avail. Chris sighed irritably and tried again. But the silence was so thick that it seemed to fill the entire space around him.

– What the hell is this? – he muttered, looking at the radio. – Come on, honey, come on.

He spoke to the station as if it could hear him. But there was no answer. Only hissing and crackling.

He was about to leave when suddenly he heard a voice:

– Come in, this is Ted. Has anyone tried to make contact?

Chris froze. His heart hammered harder. He turned around and ran to the radio.

– Yeah, yeah, it's me, Ted, your neighbor. Chris, can you hear me?

– Hey, how are you doing, did you finally decide to renovate? – Ted's voice sounded cheerful, but Chris could sense the tension in it. – I wasn't listening to what you said on the radio, I was outside. All I heard was someone talking. Okay, the window was open.

Chris took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

– Ted, listen to me carefully," he said, trying to speak as quickly as possible. – I was in an accident with a plane that crashed right into the road. My car was flipped over, and I'm lucky I wasn't hurt badly. It took me 24 hours to get here. You need to contact the local authorities immediately and report the crash. The plane is about 10 kilometers from here. Over.

– Are you serious? – Ted's voice sounded surprised. – It's-it's not a joke, is it?

– Yeah, Ted, this is no joke. We need to report it immediately. Come in.

– But there's no communication here," Ted said. – My radio station doesn't reach the nearest village either. You know that, don't you?

– Then you'll have to drive there," Chris replied. – Is your car running?

– Yes," said Ted. – But it's going to take time – There's someone alive in there, he asked.

– No, I didn't find anyone," Chris said.

Maybe there were chemicals on the plane. I smelled something strange when I came to. We need to report it as soon as possible.

– How are you feeling yourself? – Ted asked.

– I think I'm okay," Chris said. – But my side hurts a lot, and I'm dizzy. But I'll be all right.