Ring of Fire

One of the handful of short stories I wrote in my Senior English class. It's supposed to have a Post-Apocalyptic feel to it, so that's what I wrote. It's also set in one of the many 'universes' that I have, at the moment, floating around in my head and pl

Ring of Fire

            It all started on a dreary Wednesday. The Weather Man had predicted at least four inches of snow. He wasn't that far off the first day, but after the tenth his predictions slowly began to look like a winter wonderland. Then, slowly but surely, with each accumulating foot of snow, it became a living, freezing hell.
            Things changed fast within the next month. People froze to death, while others formed groups to work together and survive. The U.S. government had called a state of emergency, sending the local National Guard out into the freezing hell, to help people who no longer had anything to call their own. Blankets, cans of vegetables, and meat, instant pocket warmers and random food stuffs that they had confiscated from random grocery stores, for what the President's Cabinet had decided to call 'a National Disaster', were given to them, then politely pushed out the door. While most people looked out for each other, Jimmy Grascar didn't. He kept to himself, with only his faithful Border collie, Toby, for company.
            The best thing about a dog, in Jimmy’s opinion, was simply that they never bitched. Every day, when he came home, Toby would be right as his feet, wagging his tail, and salivating all over his work boots. Such a simple life they lived: only to please their masters. They never care if people think that you’re different; whether you smell funny, wear old worn out clothes, or if you shop at Aldi's. After all, they aren’t called Man’s Best Friend for the hell of it.
            Fortunately enough for Jimmy, he lived on the very edge of the Rocky Mountains, which meant that he was used to a lot of snow, but not a s**t load. His winter preparations had taken place almost two months before the snow came, so when the National guard came knocking on his hovel of predisposed card board boxes, a few fallen trees and a couple of planks of wood, he politely declined. When they had asked why, he simply replied, “I'm smarter than all these stupid people. I was prepared for this hell.”

            When the two Guards gave him a dirty look, the old man cackled maniacally, then showed them to his humble abode. He led them to a hollowed out hole in the snow that contained close to five complete boxes full of food. Most of the guards called him crazy, while a few praised him for his preparedness.

            After making sure that Jimmy was keeping himself warm enough, the small force of Guards left him to his own devices, which was the way he preferred it. The less he had to deal with other people, the less death he had to see. Granted, people died, it was natural, but Jimmy had seen enough to last him two lifetimes.
            The gargantuan amount of snow that seemed to dump down upon the Earth within a short time frame had quickly begun to change the surroundings around Jimmy. There were no more trees. Instead of snow covered swaying giants, there was nothing except rolling hills of snow. Night slowly began to disappear as twilight began to eat it away until there was only a continuous mournful light that glared off of the snow.

            When the sun set and the moon rose, the rays from the moon’s glow danced back and forth between small snowflakes, trapping the light within the lower hemisphere and leaving Jimmy and the rest of the world for that matter in a continuous state of twilight. Most times when Jimmy tried to sleep, he couldn't because of the blinding glare the snow seemed to give off.

            But, when sleep finally found him, it was filled with the horrors of the frozen hell that he lived in. The cold bit into him at night, leaving his joints stiff and unbearable when he woke. Even with the four layers of clothes that he wore at all times and the three comforters that he slept under, as well as the body heat from Toby, it wasn’t enough.

             There were no longer painkillers; no five minute drive to the closest drug store, or short walk to the medicine cabinet. Instead, when the pain came and crippled him to the point of crying, he sat and waited through it, with his best friend by his side.

            Toby, to Jimmy's surprise had become quit adapt to the cold. His fur had become thick and oily from not being regularly combed or cleaned, and thanks to the perfect timing of the end of the world, Jimmy never got around to having Toby’s hair cut.

            The old man sighed to himself as he grabbed the ratty blankets that were slowly losing their stuffing, and crawled underneath them, his face completely covered except for a small breathing hole. Toby found his way quickly next to his master under the comforters, and curled up next to the old man, delighted in the warmth of another body.

            And while one wished for sleep, the other found comfort in the companionship that they both shared.

           

            It had been nearly two months since the National Guards had come knocking on Jimmy Grascar's hovel. Three days after they had left, he, along with his faithful dog began to trek across the snow.

            It was dangerous, but it was the only way to find better shelter and keep alive in the frozen hell. However unsure Jimmy was about their new shelter, he was sure that it would be better than the piece of s**t hovel he had been using days before.

            Everything around him was white. The only thing visible to his old failing eyes was the distinct black patch of fur that covered the majority of Toby's body. The dog trekked ahead, about ten yards or so, circling back around every once in a while to poke him in the butt with his nose, encouraging him to keep moving.

            Jimmy, who pulled a makeshift sled full of food stuffs and extra ratty old blankets, forced himself, with every step, to continue on. Many times within the last few days as he prepared for the trek the idea of just giving up and dying were he lay, had crossed his mind. But for some reason, he did not listen to that voice; instead, he blocked it out, singing oldies songs to himself as he gathered the boxes full of frozen canned foods and disassembled the rickety hovel that he and Toby had called home for the last few freezing months.

            Those oldie songs slowly found there way to the front of his brain, and he began to sing to himself as he trudged along.

            He was like that for a long while. He only stopped from singing twice: once to stop and catch his breath, and the second time to struggle with the sled that had some how become stuck in a loose bit of snow.

            Toby circled back around as he found his place next to his old master, as he trudged along listening to Jimmy as he sang. He listened for a long while, until he smelt a strange odor in the chilly wind. Jimmy noticed instantly, and looked down at the dog, as he began to snarl, teeth bared and ready to take a bite out of whatever threatened him and his master.

“I fell in to a burning ring of fire
I went down, down, down
and the flames went higher…”

            The old man's singing faded, only to be picked up by a deep and melodic voice in response.

                        “…And it burns, burns, burns
                        the ring of fire,
                        the ring of fire…”

            Jimmy dropped the reigns to the sled, as he spun around aimlessly, looking to see who the other person had been. He hadn't imagined it, had he? Granted he was old, and he had gone months without any human contact, but paranoia would kick in now, would it? If anything, if he were to have become paranoid, it would have happened already, usually within the first months. Even he knew that.

            Then, out of the heavy snow, a figure began to emerge. The outline of the thing was huge, over a foot taller than Jimmy, which meant that the thing – person, dare he say, had to be well over six and a half feet tall. He squinted to make more of the figure out, placing a hand over his brow to block the glare of the sun off of the snow.

            Jimmy Grascar's heart skipped a beat, when he saw that the thing was indeed human. A flood of relief washed over him, and he watched the strapping fellow approach in the twilight's glare. The man, who looked to be in his mid if not early thirties, was tall and very muscular. Long thick hair covered his head, making him look almost barbaric. The thick curls fell down past his shoulders, accompanying his zealous beard and bushy mustache.

            He carried a rifle in a makeshift leather thong attached to his back. From the shape and size of it, Jimmy figured that it was probably a standard .12 gauge with a plug in it. More protection is always a good thing. A row of knives lined each side of the man’s belt, the gleaming steel of the hilts shining in the reflection of the snow. The man was decked out in a long black duster that covered all of his body, except for what lay open, exposing his hard figure, and fell down to his feet. A few inches of boot poked through the duster. Jimmy was unsure of what kind they were, but as the figure came closer, he could hear the distinct crunch of a pair of military style boots. He could recognize that sound from almost anywhere.

            His thoughts were abruptly cut off, as the fellow stopped singing as he stood ten feet in front of the old man, cautious of Toby’s bared fangs. He extended a hand and smiled. “Heya!” His deep voice boomed.

            Jimmy commanded the Border collie to stay were he was as the old man made his way through the snow to the stranger. He took the man’s extended hand, smiling.

            “I’m surprised to see anyone alive out here. It’s a frozen hell.” He smiled, showing perfectly straight, coffee stained teeth. “The names Ivan, Ivan McClurre.”

            “Nice to meet you Ivan! The names Jimmy Grascar and this here…” He began, whistling for his furry friend to come forward. Toby ran up next to his master, and sat beside him without complaint, quietly sniffing the air around the stranger. “Well, this here is Toby.” He scratched the dog behind the ear; as Ivan crouched down to face the dog.

            Ivan pulled a black leather glove off of his hand, and then nudged it slowly under Toby’s nose. The dog sniffed inquisitively, as he stored the scent of the new person deep within his brain. Hesitantly, Ivan worked his hand up and behind Toby’s left ear, scratching it like a long lost friend who knew the feeling all to well.

“So, you like the Man in Black, eh?”

            “Hell yes.” Jimmy said. “I hate to sound old in all, especially since we just met, but I remember when he was a big deal. Back in the day, when I was a little younger than yourself.”

            “Ah, I don’t mind. I sort of like to hear about that stuff, you know. If I could have lived back in the days of Johnny Cash’s golden years, I would probably have been one of the happiest people you could ever meet.” Ivan explained.

            “Yep, I understand… It was a great time to be alive… better than now.” Jimmy laughed. “So, is it just you then, or are there more people?” Jimmy asked, staring at Ivan as he stood to his full height.

            “Just me. There were more, but they didn’t make it…” Ivan explained.

            “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.” He didn’t want to make the man made, especially since he could easily pick the old man up over his head and crush him into the snow.

            “Polar Bears.” He stated flatly.

            “Polar Bears?” Jimmy asked. He had to make sure he wasn’t hearing things; old age could do that to a person.

            “Yeah.” The big man shook his head. “They attacked us while we were asleep. Came into the camp, smelled the food and attacked the closest person to the fire, then found his way into the tent.”

            “How did you manage to survive?” Jimmy asked.

            Ivan patted the .12 gauge slung across his back. “This beauty right here. Saved my life once, hopefully it will save it again.” He chuckled nervously. Jimmy joined in, not wanting the big fellow to get mad at him.

            The two men were quite for a few moments, as Ivan directed his attention back at Toby, now scratching behind the dogs left ear. Then, Ivan stood up and smiled. “You hungry?”

            Jimmy nodded, as a smile split across his face showing his fake, cracked dentures. “What’s on the menu?”

            “Bear.” Ivan stated.

 

            To Jimmy Grascar’s amazement, Ivan had come prepared. After the short time that he had been able to talk to the strapping fellow, he had learned about the unfortunate events that had led Ivan to were he was now. In return, Jimmy explained to Ivan their misadventures and what led them to their fateful meeting. Once both sides had told their stories, everything began to fit like a puzzle. It felt to Jimmy, like he had known Ivan all of his life.

            Not only did the two share their stories, but also a nice lunch that consisted of random pieces of Polar Bear meat, in a light sauce of bear blood that Ivan had harvested off of one of the only bears that didn’t quite get it’s full from his friends. Along with the meat and blood, Ivan skinned the hides off of all of the bears, using one for a canvas to protect his things located in his sled, from the snow, while the rest he used for warmth.

            After a few hours of “Song Sharing,” a game the two invented, that consisted mostly of old time music such as Johnny Cash, Bocefus, Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson and Hank Williams, the two relaxed next to a fire. It was the first lick of warmth that Jimmy and Toby had been able to experience since the beginning of the snow fall, and the two friends enjoyed it immensely. Ivan had started it with some of the oil he had taken from his broken down snow mobile, along with some wood that he had been lucky enough to find discarded in the middle of nowhere. A few days back, when the snow mobile had ran out of gas, Ivan cannibalized every part he thought he might need, and stored it in his sled alongside the bear meat, furs, scrap wood and four or five sheets of metal he still had. There wasn’t much of the wood left, but Jimmy guessed that it would be enough for four or five more small fires.

            Jimmy was gracious for the fire, and after nearly an hour of repeated thanks, he fell asleep next to it. When he woke the next morning, it was cold and dreary again. The fire had died, leaving them without warmth until the next time they built one. Jimmy cursed something under his breath, to which Ivan chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

            “So old man, what do we do now?” Ivan asked, collecting the sheets of metal that he had built the fire upon the night before, placing them back into his makeshift sled.

            “Well, we can both stay here and use up the rest of your fire materials, or we can keep walking and hope we find some kind of damned shelter.”

            “Sounds good. Which way should we head?”

            “I say west. If we can make it long enough, we should be able to find what’s left of the Rocky Mountains. There should be shelter there.” Jimmy explained, pointing west.

            Ivan nodded and the three companions began trekking once again.

            After another day of nonstop walking, they came to a stop after a long debate. They broke out camp and had just sat down to another meal of bear stew, when suddenly Toby’s head popped up, revealing rows of menacing teeth. A growl came up from his throat and thundered through the silence. Ivan didn’t waste anytime loading his .12 gauge. He pulled a .357 magnum from his trench coat and tossed it to Jimmy.  “There’s only about four bullets left in that thing, so pick your shots carefully.” Jimmy nodded, but didn’t say anything, as he got up from were he lay.

            Before the two men could see anything through the snow, Toby charged through it. Ivan ran after him. He wasn’t as fast as the four legged creature, but he kept good pace. Toby stopped a few feet in front of Ivan, ears perked, still growling. Ivan squinted as best he could, until his eyes came into focus. He stood like that for well over a minute, looking for something; anything that might have set the dog off. Then, he spotted a very small dot in the distance. He wasn’t sure at first if the thing had anything to do with what set the dog off, so he fired a warning shot that burst through the air, shattering the silence.

            He heard footsteps behind him, and spun with the gun pointed at Jimmy. Ivan motioned for the old man to be quiet, as he turned and crept closer to whatever danger lie ahead. Toby followed, teeth still bared.  As they came closer, a figure began to immerge. Toby sped forward leaving Ivan with no option but to follow. Then suddenly, the Border collie leapt through the air, biting down on the thing that kept swiping at the dog, trying to throw it off of him, with its large powerful claws.

            Ivan had hoped that it wouldn’t be what he had thought, but he knew better. The Polar Bear sat up on its haunches, bashing Toby with a paw, every time the dog tried to charge it. A roar ripped through the sound of battle, as three more bears immerged from behind it. Ivan cursed under his breath as he took a shot at the bear that now had Toby pinned to the snow.

            His aim was true. The bear collapsed, dead; a bullet lodged in its heart. Jimmy appeared beside Ivan, and the young man figured that all the running was taking its toll on the old man, slowing him down.

            “Are you alright?” He asked, taking aim at another bear.

            “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just a little winded is all.” He replied, squeezing a shot off into the fray of fur.

            Ivan dropped another bear dead, but it was too late. Toby lay in a buddle of blood, crying. He tried to lift his head to get to the wound, but the damage was too severe. Jimmy saw the blood and tears began to stream down his face. Without even thinking, he ran to his companion, shooting at a bear as it charged him. It knocked him to the ground moments before Ivan lodged a bullet in its brains.

            Only one bear remained, and it sped towards Ivan. He took another aim, and then squeezed the trigger, but there were no more bullets. He cursed as the bear reached him. It fell back on its haunches, and pushed itself into the air, casting a giant shadow across him. He swung the butt of the rifle at the bear’s side. He heard a crack, and the bear fell.

            Ivan knew that he didn’t have long to take the thing out. He pulled two knives from his belt and jumped on the thing, sinking the knives into its head. A loud pop cracked through the air, as the bear yelped and fell. A pair of claws raked Ivan’s sides, leaving a long and deep cut upon his chest and ribs. The bear began to bite down on his leg, but it was only half an attempt. The knives and the bullets had done the trick. Ivan lay bleeding upon the corpse of the bear, smiling as he looked into the sky.

            Jimmy fell back from the kick of the .357. He hadn’t fired one in a long time, and had forgotten how much of a punch it packed. He rolled over and crawled to his knees, weeping over the corpse of his life long companion. After a few minutes of crying, he got up and made his way over to Ivan. He looked at the man’s wounds. He promised to return with a sled, to take him and Toby back to the camp.

 

            Later that night, after Jimmy had attended to Ivan’s wounds as best he could, the old man began to build a fire. First laying down the metal sheets, then he placed a few rocks in a circle around it. He hauled Toby’s body to the sheets of metal, laying him down gently upon the remaining wood that they had left.  He had asked Ivan if it was alright for him to use what wood was left, and the big man had said yes.

            The sun began to set as Jimmy poured a circle of oil on the wood that fanned out around the dog’s body. He took the magnesium block and a knife from Ivan, as he knelt down before the make-shift cairn. He struck the block with the knife and watched as sparks danced down and onto the oil. Flames licked up from the oil, as it caught the wood on fire. Jimmy stepped back to were Ivan lay and watched the corpse of his best friend burn.

            The two men were quite for a while, thoughts running through there heads. Ivan watched as the fire burned. It wasn’t until after his thoughts floated from his mind that he noticed something. He looked over at Jimmy whose eyes were closed. Tears streamed down his face as he watched the man. Then, he poked him on the shoulder and pointed at the fire. Jimmy opened his eyes and looked at his friend. “What?” He asked, barely speaking above a whisper.

            Ivan pointed at the fire that had enveloped the body.

            “It’s a ring of fire.”

THE END