Defiant: Quantic Dreams Book 2 by Elizabeth McLaughlin (best mystery novels of all time .txt) 📕

looked like the sky itself was aflame. Now that I had met my basic needs it was easier to take in my surroundings. It was so difficult to focus that first night that I had failed to notice I wasn’t alone out here. The crabs may have been the only animal life I encountered in person but I could hear strange calls in the distance. They sent chills down my spine, an ancient warning that reminded me that nothing was guaranteed. Out here it wasn’t every day that was a gift, it was every moment. Looking up I could see a sea of stars and planets peeking through the rapidly darkening sky. It was no wonder that our ancestors worshipped things like the moon. Living in this environment it was easy to believe the orbs in the sky were gods; humans lived and died by them. There was no difference between a deity and nature. Then, and now, they were one and the same.

My eyelids had started growing heavy when I noticed a flash in the distance. It was maybe half a mile away, yellowish and small. Rubbing my eyes, I blinked hard and waited to see if it would show itself again. Sure enough, it did. Was it the eyes of an animal, attracted by the smell of human and the sight of fire? I thought I could only see one light at a time. If it was an animal, it had either lost an eye or it was some creature I had never encountered in textbooks before. My ears strained to pick up any kind of noise coming from the direction of the flash, but I couldn’t hear anything over the growing wind. No matter what was out there, it was time to finish up my evening and prepare for bed.

Using my teeth, I ripped off a few strips of my precious fabric supply. Two of the pieces went to wrapping my feet; it was a far cry from shoes but the canvas offered some basic protection from the cold and debris of the ground. The third strip I rolled into a cone and stuffed with grass. Once it was sufficiently tamped down I held the end of the cone to the fire. It lit with a whoosh, the tip releasing a puff of smoke into the air. Now I had a rudimentary torch. Fire in hand I went to the latrine with the spade tucked under my arm. I dug a small hole in the dirt for the torch and wedged it into the ground. It wasn’t a steady perch and I jumped every time the wind blew, certain that my light source would topple and be extinguished.

When I finished my business I ripped out a handful of grass and twisted it tightly to make toilet paper. Even with my take on modern amenities, there was no denying how disgusting an experience this was. I was just preparing to cover up my waste when the dry urine saturated cloth I used to wash myself earlier fell from my pocket. A stray thread hanging from it caught the torch and set the fabric burning.

I watched the strip burn curiously. A foul smell emanated from it; the stink vaguely reminded me of the scent of illness. I had assumed that the urine would have somehow changed the chemistry of the fabric to make it more difficult to burn, not easier. I picked up the torch gingerly and examined the remains of the cloth. It had burned up quickly. I could use that. I crushed the warm ash under my foot and returned to my tent for the night.

Chapter Eighteen

The only thing that kept my small beacon of light burning overnight was the dip in heat that woke me every time the flames started to die. By morning the temperature had equalized enough that I let the fire die. As I was falling asleep I resolved that the best way to get the attention of the shelter inhabitants was to follow the example of my ancestors. If I built a fire high enough and large enough, either the cameras would pick it up or the shelter’s safety protocols would notify the inhabitants of a danger to the shelter’s entrance. Of course, if I managed to set off the fire alarms inside the shelter there was a high likelihood that I would be a pile of ash myself.

I retrieved a couple of crabs from the stream and dispatched them quickly with the sharp edge of a rock. A larger stone would serve as my cooking stone, but I had severe doubts about being able to build a fire large and hot enough to heat the rock. My kingdom for a tree. I decided to build a small fire and toss the crabs into the middle of it. When the critters smelled cooked I scraped them out with one of the rocks and hissed as I burned my hand. Sucking on the burn I turned the crab over. Its carapace had split revealing a precious nugget of pale meat inside. My stomach growled and my mouth watered. Millimeters from bringing the savory smelling flesh to my mouth, I stopped. As many skills as my parents had imparted to me, none of them had to do with wilderness survival. It made sense that there were plants that could poison me, but who knows how many rads of radiation the local wildlife had been exposed to over the years. Not to mention that I would be introducing microbes and bacteria that my system had never been exposed to.

Another massive stomach complaint compelled me to take the risk. With luck I would be back inside within the next twenty-four hours and if I wasn’t, there was a significant chance that I’d be dead soon afterwards. The taste of the crab meat was heavenly. Growing up on a diet of mostly 3D printed food had inured me to what flavor actually was. What I thought