The snow burned just as much as they froze.
His toes ached. They were ridden with numbness, and Zen’s very being felt like it was going to crumble. Is this how it felt to be on the brink of a terrifying death? He didn’t know that much, as he had just woken not too long ago. The whole ordeal was pretty eye opening and jarring.
Zen kept his arms and hands cuddled within his thin and shoddy hospital gown. Its flimsy cloth blew in the wind, threatening to be pulled away instantly if he let go. He had to hold on. It was his only piece of equipment that would keep him slightly warm, or more like slightly less likely to die from frostbite.
He trudged along, foot by foot in the freezing wind and deep and frosty slush. His teeth rattled. Arm shook. Knees weak. He yearned for some form of warmth. Even the slightly warmer temperatures of his containment bloc was heaven compared to the hellish outdoors. He could run back, but it was too far by now. And even if he tried, he’d get lost. The blizzard fog was just that thick. He could not see even a few feet in front of him.
Finally, Zen managed to take a glimpse of a change of color in the distance. It was green and bushy, its sharp leaves protruding from its branches. Little aquamarine bulbs glistened on its branches. His eyes widened, as his natural instincts kicked in.
He hurried over to the bush, ripping off its branches, cramming the berries and sticks into his crude cloth sack. By the time he had shaken himself of his frenzy, the bush was merely a clump of wet sticks in the dirt. He had torn the bush to pieces.
Zen stared at the stump, in awe of his own power. Was he really that crazy? Strong? He had no idea where that energy came from, but it had given him new encouragement to keep going. Zen glanced around the bush, looking for any berries he had missed, before something caught his attention.
Next to the berry stump, along the edge of the right wall of the frozen path, were footprints, leading forward. They kept going, and trailed through the dense fog of the blizzard. How they had not disappeared by now or how they got there he wasn’t sure, but one thing most certainly was.
Someone had been here.
Was it his other brethren from the containment room? Most likely. Maybe they awoke in a similar manner and left the room themselves, possibly mere minutes after he had awoken. Just his luck. Maybe he and them could team up? He just had to find him.
Zen hastily followed the footprint trail, going deeper into the fog, before the prints disappeared into a mountain overhang. The rock roof extended for a good twenty feet before showing more blizzard wind, but it was a shelter nonetheless. Deep down, he really wanted to keep going and follow the footprints, but his body also ached for a break. He had to check whether he was seriously injured or not. He could be frostbitten and not even know it. It was his call.
He glanced toward the exit of the stone overhang, where the blizzard only increased its torment and roared beyond belief. The wind kicked up, and Zen grit his teeth and held onto his gown even tighter than ever. Zen gulped looking at the roaring winds of the exit and down at his feet, back and forth, holding his breath on which way to go. The pressure mounted up, as he saw the footprints up ahead start to fade away in the thickening snow. Finally letting out a deep sigh, he chose what was best for him. He’d stay under the rock cove.
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Zen sat down, slumping onto the cool wet granite. What was his life like before? Did he have a family? Friends that loved him and cherished him? He had to be working for some high technological government, as it seemed almost impossible for a low class citizen to be able to get into a cryo-sleep casket like he had.
He groaned and clutched his head. Violent images shook in his mind, the faces of strangers he couldn’t remember being warped into unrecognizable static. Zen held his chin to his knees, and watched as the blizzard outside the cove raged on. It was somehow peaceful, watching the snow fall down so intensely. It was almost like an analogy, to how life had thrown him so harshly too.
Well it wasn’t any time to mope around. He had to somehow survive. Zen dug through his cloth sack, pulling out the aqua berries he had harvested. The berries rolled with ease, their perfectly smooth spheres and firm textures bringing some satisfactory serotonin to his brain. They felt too perfect to eat, but he was starting to get hungry, so he popped one into his mouth and chewed.
Flavor burst in his mouth, like a frigid sweetness on a brisk autumn’s day. Zen chewed on the berry contently, as the sweetness enveloped his tongue. There was a certain flavor that gave Zen some sort of Deja vu, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. There was just too much he didn’t know.
Standing up, Zen stretched, popping his knuckles and cracking his back, the pops and crinkles of his spine allowing a gasp of relief from his mouth. Popping another berry into his mouth, Zen walked around the cove of granite, checking whether there were any treasures. All he knew is that there could be some hidden features, and if there were any he wanted to get his hands on them.
Then, there it was! Something reflective in the corner! Zen stooped down low, almost crawling at this point, before he came face to face with a stagnant icy pool of water, drops slowly dribbling into it at a gentle and steady pace. He took a good look at his face, his body, his stature.
From the reflection of the pool, he appeared to be a young male adult, as if he didn’t know he was male already, he had already checked. He didn’t have much muscle mass, so when he flexed, his ribcage was the only thing visibly showing. Long swaths of smooth black hair was endowed on his head, some of it falling down over his right eye. He looked like he had crossed multiple hemispheres and back, like a lonely failed scholar turned vagabond. He had to cut off some of that hair, or people would probably treat him like crap.
Surprisingly, he had almost no facial hair, nor any body hair. Maybe it was a cosmetic feature that his past life wished to have? In this case, the lack of hair wasn’t doing him any benefits, as some extra fur would at least keep him slightly warmer.
Zen cupped his hand, allowing for water to seep in. He drank from his palm, until he was full of delicious fresh water. He crawled back out and stared at the falling snow. The blizzard had died down somewhat, and Zen was tempted to leave right now, to take advantage of the change of weather, but his body said no.
His feet were purple from the cold, his hands a shivering red mess. He had to get warm. He had a flint and steel, but there was no tinder to start it. There had to be some around right? There had to be. Zen stooped down, looking for any dried organic substances, be it sticks, branches, or leaves.
Finally, he came across a bed of dried and crackly leaves, in a deep corner of the cove. It looked very suspiciously like a bed, almost as if another human had slept there. But Zen couldn’t have a good sleep without a little warmth.
He took some of the crackling leaves and mixed them with some of the berry bush leaves and branches he had scavenged. Somehow, that bush’s leaves were strongly hydrophobic, and had soft furs all over the plant. Made for a wonderful fire starting material. Grabbing his flint in one hand and the steel chunk in another, he struck them together, letting the sparks fly, hoping one would land onto the pile of tinder.
It took a few minutes of tense trying, but eventually, a spark landed on the tinder, causing smoke to rise. Quickly, Zen began to softly blow on the smoke, and before long, there was a raging fire burning on the floor of the cove.
Zen mentally whooped with joy, clapping his hands together in excitement as he placed more sticks and leaves in the fire. The flame rejoiced with the given fuel, and burned fervently. Zen sat down next to the fire, the orange hue of warmth dancing across his face. It felt good to finally be warm, and tiredness filled his eyes.
Using his cloth sack as a pillow, and covering his body with his hospital gown, he lay beside the fire, letting the warmth cover him. He fell asleep slightly happier than before. He dreamed that night.