Chapter 2: Water source
As I moved towards my chosen destination, I took a moment to reflect on the situation. Questions began to creep into my mind—had I overreacted? Was immediately "bugging out" the best course of action? Perhaps not. However, one valuable lesson ingrained in me during my service days was the importance of constant movement. Even if I found myself heading in the wrong direction, the act of moving itself was preferable to remaining stagnant. It boiled down to the principle of taking proactive measures rather than passively reacting to a situation. So, regardless of any doubts or second-guessing, I made peace with my decision. What was done was done.
Time, as I understood it, followed a linear path (although I recognized that it might not be the case from a physics standpoint). Being a USMC veteran, I couldn't claim to possess the sharpest understanding of physics, but we were certainly adept at causing havoc and chaos. In the end, my ability to comprehend the intricacies of time was inconsequential to the immediate challenges at hand. The only thing that mattered was making the most of the present circumstances and adapting as necessary.
With that mindset, I pressed onward, determined to navigate this unpredictable situation with the same resolve I had developed during my military service. The past was behind me, and the path ahead demanded my focus and determination. I embraced the notion that action was better than inaction, and I marched forward, prepared to face whatever lay ahead.
Glancing at the timer that displayed the remaining time until the evaluation and introduction, I noted that I had been on the move for a little over two hours. I had managed to put a considerable distance between myself and the nearest concentration of potential civil unrest—the city. Considering this distance to be sufficient for the time being, I made the decision to alter my direction of movement. Instead of following the Preller trail, I opted to head straight down towards the valley.
My immediate priority shifted from getting the fuck out to town to securing a source of water, as hydration remained a crucial concern. Hangover if a motherfucker as it is but without available water? Nah, fuck that. Descending into the lower ground seemed like the most expedient way to find a water source. The valley would likely offer streams, creeks, or other bodies of water that could quench my thirst and replenish my dwindling supplies.i.e none, but people throw so much shit into rivers that I will be surprised if I can’t scavenge some floating junk for immediate use.
Taking a deep breath, I adjusted my path and descended into the valley, carefully navigating the terrain as I went. The urgency to find water was a constant reminder, driving me forward with determination. The journey ahead held the promise of hydration and a temporary respite from the pressing concerns that surrounded me. In simpler terms, as long as you keep moving and have a clear immediate goal to focus on, you can temporarily set aside the overwhelming question of what the fuck is actually happening. By maintaining a sense of purpose and staying engaged in the tasks at hand, you can put the bigger, more existential concerns on the backburner for a while. This allows you to channel your energy and attention towards tangible objectives, giving you a sense of direction and a temporary reprieve from the chaos and uncertainty of the situation. Moving forward with purpose becomes a way to navigate the present moment and maintain a sense of control amidst the unknown.
After a challenging half-hour descent down the steep terrain, I successfully reached the bottom of the valley. Surprisingly, I managed to navigate the treacherous path without any major mishaps, despite my intoxicated state. I took a moment to acknowledge this small victory, appreciating the progress I had made.
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Turning my attention to the immediate need for water, I scanned the surroundings for any signs of a reliable water source. Unfortunately, all I could find was a small, sluggish creek. It wasn't the ideal scenario, but it would have to suffice. Desperate for hydration, I filled my plastic water bottle to the brim, cautiously considering the suitability of the creek water for drinking.
Knowing the risks associated with consuming untreated water, I acknowledged the possibility of bacteria or other contaminants. However, in my current circumstances, I couldn't afford to be overly cautious. I took a deep breath and took a sip, realizing that the urgency of my thirst outweighed the potential consequences. The water tasted slightly off, but for the moment, I chose to believe that it wouldn't pose an immediate threat to my health. Survival instincts took precedence over concerns about minor risks.
In this unpredictable situation, where the immediate goal was to sustain myself and stay hydrated, I made a conscious decision to prioritize my immediate needs. It was a calculated risk, and I understood the potential consequences, but at that moment, survival outweighed everything else. Oh, and as a Vet I can tell you that calculating risks is what we do for a living, too bad we are kinda bad at math.
Acknowledging the importance of my physical well-being, I recognized that it was time to shift gears and sober up. Continuing to move for hours while under the influence would undoubtedly take a toll on my body, regardless of how physically fit I might be. With this in mind, I resolved to regain clarity and alertness.
After finishing my drink and refilling the water bottle, I scanned the surroundings of the valley for a suitable spot to establish a temporary shelter. Despite the isolation of the valley, I understood the necessity of having some form of shelter and concealment. It provided a sense of security and offered protection from the elements, as well as potential encounters with other individuals.
Taking into account the natural features of the valley, I sought out a spot that would provide adequate coverage and camouflage. Whether it was a cluster of trees, a rocky outcrop, or a secluded nook, I needed a place to rest and recuperate while remaining hidden from prying eyes.
Finding a suitable location, I set to work. I used a fallen tree as a base for my small shelter. I covered the base with a layer of moss, isolation from the cold ass ground is a must. I scavenged for some branches and laid them on the fallen tree to in a bad attempt to create some sort of a supporting low hanging thing that will block some wind. I only had 18 hours to until the evaluation and introduction thingy so spending to much time and effort on creating a shelter is a waste but a creating a shelter is a must so minimum effort max result is the way to go. Henc, utilizing the resources available in the surrounding environment. With a combination of natural elements and my lack of equipment, I aimed to create a makeshift shelter that would provide me with some semblance of comfort and protection during my stay in the valley. By taking these necessary steps to secure shelter and concealment, I hoped to maximize my chances of survival while minimizing potential risks in this unpredictable and uncertain situation.
Exhaustion took hold of me, weighing heavily on my body and mind. After taking a few more sips of water to quench my immediate thirst, I settled into the confines of my small makeshift shelter. The weariness that accompanied hours of physical exertion and the taxing effects of intoxication finally caught up with me.
With a sense of vulnerability and uncertainty still lingering, I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me. The most useful skill you learn as a solider that stick with you for the rest of your life is the ability to fall asleep the second you head hit a pillow or a some object that you assign as a pillow, usually a nice looking rock will do the job just fine.
So with that cluster fuck of a day behind me and probably a FUBAR day ahead of me sobering up and catching a few hours of sleep to deal with shit to come is the best course of action.