Chapter 2

The next thought for me was I must be dead, because I could hear birds singing and no birds did any type of singing in downtown Plano Texas. Then I wondered where in the hell my pickup's air bag had gone, since it wasn't all over me. Next I wondered where my pickup was, and why I wasn't already in the back of an ambulance going somewhere to have my life saved. I gave up wondering and opened my eyes, then shut them again really fast.

Damn, the sun was bright, especially since I seemed to be lying flat on my back with my face pointed right toward it. I put my hand over my eyes to shade them and took another peek. I didn't even bother wondering why it was noon out now and the sun had been going down for the count just a minute or two ago.

My retinas weren't seared from the next peek, but I didn't think the deal was very fair. I could see around me perfectly but what I saw didn't make one bit of sense.

I remembered plainly that I'd just been in an automobile accident in downtown Plano, right at sunset. So where was everybody and why was the sun so high in the sky? I mean, I'm nobody special or anything, but good God. Surely a big wreck and such a hellacious explosion would draw at least a little of a crowd, and by the way, where had the streets and buildings gone.

The explosion couldn't have done them any damage because I had to still be on the spot and damned if I wasn't lying in a sort of grassy pasture near the edge of a hardwood forest. Hell, there was underbrush and everything. I could even hear what sounded for all the world like the proverbial babbling brook off in the distance.

Fuckit, even though I knew it would probably hurt like hell I sat up. That was odd, it didn't hurt a bit. My eyes were accustomed to the light by now and so I looked around and it was more of the same.

It looked exactly like I was sitting on the edge of a fairly open field or pasture. There were the occasional wild flowers scattered around and even some bushes. That couldn't be right either, because even if the explosion I know damned well I'd heard right at the last had blown me miles away from where I'd been, without damaging me, it was still completely impossible.

I wasn't even in central Texas any longer because I couldn't see a single mesquite bush or tree or whatever the ubiquitous fuckers technically were. I don't think there's any place near where I was supposed to be that was short of mesquite.

Damn, this just was not fair. It looked to be a little past noon here and since I didn't even know where I was, there was no way I'd be back home in time to catch the kick off of Thursday Night Football.

Shit, tonight the four and 0 Cowboys were playing the one and three Buffalo Bills. There was practically no way the Cowboys could lose and I wasn't even going to see the kick off. What was I talking about? I wouldn't get to see one bit of the game. I knew the TIVO would record it, but it just isn't the same watching the game after you already know the score.

Time to quit wasting time worrying about the Cowboys. They could take care of themselves. I needed to see if I could find out where in the hell I was. Later, hopefully, I could even find out how in the hell I got here. Finally I stood up and that didn't hurt either. Things just didn't seem right somehow.

Since I didn't have the first fucking clue where I happened to be or which direction the closest anything was, I headed for the stream I'd heard. Shit, it was that or walk over to a wildflower or bush or something.

When I was within a hundred yards or so of the stream I got another shock. There was a big whitetail doe taking a sip of water, she looked up when she heard me, and she didn't haul ass. She moved on ok, but didn't even bother to run or raise her flag. She hadn't been a bit worried about me being that close.

Not only was I not in Central Texas, I couldn't be in any part of Texas at all. There was nowhere in the state that a man coming close wouldn't terrify a whitetail deer. I don't know how they came to realize that men could hurt them from long distance, but I was sure it was the first lesson mommy deer taught baby deer in this day and age.

I couldn't spend the whole damned day worrying about the wild life; I had to find a phone somehow. The underbrush was sparse near the stream and I figured walking alongside it would lead me to something that made sense sooner or later. Upstream or downstream was the next question but there was no way for me to make an intelligent decision. If it was a hundred miles to the nearest thing of interest upstream and only one mile downstream to something, I still had no way to tell. I started off upstream.

Nearly three hours later I realized it would be sunset, at least, before I came across anything I recognized. I found a little clear spot, raked off a space for a small fire, and then went to the stream to bring a few rocks out to make a circle to put around my upcoming blaze.

Later, after gathering some squaw wood and then a few larger pieces, I reached into my pocket for my Bic. Doing that made me remember I'd bought a special deal at the convenience store this morning. Six packs of Winstons in the box came with six free Bic lighters. Hey, it was a great deal, even if I'd only been able to stuff two packs of Winstons in each of my shirt pockets. Stuffing all the lighters into my left pants pocket reminded me.

Well wasn't that a stroke of luck. Now that I was stuck out in the middle of nowhere, at least I had seven Bics to start my little campfire, my original Bic and the six new ones from the excellent deal. The funny thing was I hadn't even thought about wanting a smoke since I woke up from the crash. Hell, I didn't even want one now. I wanted a cheeseburger pretty bad, but I wasn't craving a smoke.

Man, what a miserable night I spent. I'd gathered enough wood to keep my small fire going so I'd be able to see a little bit anyway, and also in the wild ass hope that someone would be searching for me and might see it. I know, I'd somehow disappeared from downtown Plano, and the chances were no one was looking for me. At least they'd have no reason to look anywhere near here, wherever here was, but hope springs eternal.

The fire wasn't the rub since it wasn't even cold out. I was hungry as a bitch wolf sucking nine pups by dark, and I hadn't even had sense enough to try and gather leaves and stuff for some sort of padding to sleep on. Hell, I was used to sleeping on a waterbed and my current rocky dirt bed just didn't do it for me. I didn't manage to get a lot of sleep if you get my meaning.

When I finally woke, about sunrise, I was sore in several places and I'd learned a damned good lesson in case I didn't find anyone today. I was going to be sure I had enough crap piled up for padding before I spent another night wherever I was now.

I was born and raised in Texas and I'd done a lot of deer hunting and spent a lot of time sleeping in deer camps with other guys doing the same thing, but hey, we always brought air mattresses if we happened to be staying somewhere we couldn't pull a camper to. Sleeping out on the ground with nothing beneath me but rocks and dirt wasn't in my past anywhere. Well, that wasn't exactly true now. Last night was in my past.

This morning everything was here and now though and I still didn't have a damned thing to eat. I made sure to pick up everything I had and started walking. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to find a Seven Eleven, no matter how closely I looked. It made me wish hard that I'd signed up for a cell phone so I could call someone - anyone.

By noon I was tired and decided I'd have to try killing something. There had been a few hickory trees but I now knew Euell Gibbons was as full of shit as a Christmas turkey. Wild hickory nuts weren't worth fucking with. Hell, I'd starve to death cracking and eating those things even if they were piled up by the ton near me. It took more work to get the nutmeat out than the energy they could possibly provide.

I used one of my most useful tools on a sapling to cut it down. It was a cutter for plastic pipe. It worked a little like pliers but had a blade on one side and flat jaws on the other with a slit for the blade to pass through. The handle had a ratchet action with some type of gear reduction inside. It didn't have a bit of trouble cutting through an inch and a half oak sapling. After trimming off the small branches and sharpening the end I was armed and dangerous, kinda.

On my third try at sneaking up on a deer that wasn't paying much attention, I made a throw. Great, I hit it. Oh shit, it ran off with my spear flopping from its side. It might not even be a fatal wound. Hell, it hadn't even knocked the deer down. I searched along the deer's direction of exit from the place I thought it had been standing when I hit it. After half an hour I'd only found one tiny spot that was probably blood.

Somehow something sensible bubbled to the top of my brain. There was no point in trying to follow the deer to see if it dropped dead later. With no more blood sign than I'd found it probably wasn't in danger of dying until infection killed it, but the way the spear waved around in the deer's side reminded me of a limp fishing pole, and I had all the makings for a fishing trip in the tool bag hanging from my belt.

Cutting a pole was no problem, and I had a two thousand foot spool, nearly new, of nylon twine that claimed to be hundred pound test. I used my hammer and needle nose pliers to fashion a hook out of a #4 finishing nail and I was pretty much set to go.

Over near the stream I'd been paralleling, I turned over rocks until I found a grub-worm big enough to fit over my hook's sharp end, and then looked for a likely spot and lowered the bait near a big fish that seemed to be just swimming in place under a slight overhang of the bank. It hit my hook so quickly that I barely saw it move. When it discovered that something was holding it back a few seconds later it raised a little hell, but I set the hook better with a flick of my wrist and pulled it out onto the bank.