Chapter 1
Declan
When I woke up, it was five minutes to five. The day was breaking outside and I blinked and looked out through the small window above my bed. The sky was pinkish and golden at the same time. A curious shade of sky. Eighteen months of living here in these woods, and I still wasn’t over how calming this sight was.
My alarm rang five minutes later, but I stopped needing it several months ago. My body had adjusted to the time. I went to bed at nine every night and woke up five minutes before the alarm rang, every morning.
It was cold when I threw off the blankets, but it was the perfect way to wake up. The birds were beginning to chirp outside, on their way from their nests to search for food for the day.
My feet were cold on the wooden planks on the floor and I strode to the small toilet by my bedroom. Yes, it was small, and it took some getting used to, but it was practical and it was all I needed.
There was a mirror above the sink which I never looked at except when I needed to trim my beard. Today was not one of those days. The shower cubicle was small too, I barely managed to stand in it without stooping.
I didn’t heat the water for my shower. What a waste of energy. Cold showers did me good, got my blood pumping. My muscles froze for a few seconds when I stepped under the heavy stream, but soon enough, my body adjusted and it was like a new life had been breathed into my soul.
I dried off quickly, brushed my teeth and changed into my usual flannel shirt and thick jeans and stepped out.
Today was not going to look any different from yesterday or the day before. Every day was the same and every day was predictable and that was exactly what I needed. I needed this routine. It was meditative and therapeutic and helped me control the darkness that was still swirling inside me.
I made myself a cup of coffee and poured it in the steel mug I drank from. I had that and the small gas stove I used from the Everest trek from five years before. They were of good use to me now.
I stepped out into the fresh air just as the sun was rising and took my first sip of coffee. It warmed my stomach and I stretched my arms wide to fill my lungs with that sweet mountain air.
More wood needed to be chopped today for my stockpile, and I looked forward to it.
After I had my breakfast; which consisted of one scrambled egg and two fried sausages, I collected my ax and some of the other gear and made my way to the clearing from yesterday.
I prepared myself for the chop. A pile of wood was already lying there and after today I would have enough for the week to carry back to my cabin.
I rolled up my sleeves. As freezing cold as it was right now, in a few minutes when I started chopping—I was going to be burning up. Some days, despite the cold, I took my shirt off while I worked because I’d worked myself up to a burning ball of fire, with sweat dripping from my temples.
I could do this for hours. Up and down my ax went, and the sound of steel hitting the toughened bark of a tree trunk resonated all around the woods. For a few hours every day, while I did this, my mind could go blank and I didn’t need to think of anything.
I could push those thoughts away.
I could have done more. I should have done more. I was never there. It was my fault. I should have been there for her…
Those thoughts were strongest at night. When it was too dark to chop wood or trek up to the waterfall and jump. When I had no choice but to sit in my cabin by the fire and read book after book. Those thoughts hit me like a truck coming out of nowhere in the dark.
I had no control over my emotions then. One night, in a fit of rage, I’d broken my only chair into two so I had nothing to sit on.
It gave me something to do, though, and I spent all of next day fixing it and then deciding to build another one. So now, I had two chairs to sit on.
Chop Chop Chop.
That was all I did for hours on end. Sometimes I took a breather, just stood there and looked around at the beauty of the forest. My shoulders ached from the swing of the ax. I breathed in and out to regulate my lungs again.
It was during one of those breaks, while I stood with my ax across my shoulders that I heard the sound of a car engine and looked up. I hadn’t heard a sound like that in these parts in several months. My ears picked it up instantly.
The narrow motor trail was a few feet away from me, and I saw the small red Mini Cooper twisting and turning along it as it came towards me.
What the Hell was this?
I clenched my jaw as the car zoomed past, throwing up a cloud of brown dead leaves in its wake. I hadn’t caught a glimpse of who was in it, but I despised them already. This car and that driving had messed up my carefully constructed peace for that day.
It was obvious that the car was headed for the other cabin. The one that was a mile away from mine and had been unoccupied for these past eighteen months. This was no good to me. I wasn’t going to be the only human soul in these parts and it made me angry.
I was the king of this jungle till a minute ago.