A Life Wasted

Tracking Dogs

That first night was filled with placing one foot in front of the other and moving forward in a slow, awkward shuffle. Had anyone seen me they would have thought I was on a heavy dose of something. Fortunately, no one saw me and the night went by without another sign of my pursuers. Most of my memories of that night were of the pain. My body had gone numb from what I knew had to be frostbite, but I felt a terrible pain in my feet and hands. I ignored the pain and shuffled forward through the entire night, not stopping a single time. I felt safe from detection in the dark, but realized that when the sun rose my orange jumpsuit would be easy to spot on the open, treeless field. So as I walked I looked for a place to hide when the light came.

But there was nothing. I had not seen a single tree all night. The light from some distant farm was always with me. Fearful of a barking dog drawing attention to me I stayed well clear of those farms, though it was a temptation. I knew a farm would have a barn and numerous out buildings I might find some refuge in. Buildings that would hide me from a searching aircraft in the morning light. But I also knew that those buildings would be searched. The night was so cold and there were so few places to hide and find shelter, they were sure to check them all. They would not think anyone could walk all night in such cold. They would be sure that I would find a place to stay warm and spend the night there. This was the logic I held close as I kept going, walking, and one foot in front of the other. All night.

When the first lights of morning appeared in the east I spotted a tree line a hundred yards in front of me. I was still covered by the dark of night but that wouldn't last long so I move towards the tree line as fast as possible. As a tree line between fields went this wasn't much of one. There were five standing trees, tall and majestic, but bare of leaves. The only redeeming feature of this small break in the landscape was that there was a sixth tree, a dead one, broken from what I assumed had been a lightning strike from years ago. That tree had fallen over, but was still attached to its stump a few feet off the ground. It wasn't much, but it did provide a small bit of protection from a searching airplane.

I crawled under the tree, stopping for the first time since my escape. I propped my shoulder against the tree with my right arm under me to keep my head up, then spread my legs fully out. The moment I was settled I fell into a deep sleep.

I woke to the sound of dogs barking. Not just barking, baying. Tracking dogs. It was a sound I knew too well as I had heard them behind me before. The dogs were still some distance off, but I knew they would be moving fast. I moved to get up, to run, but I couldn't move. Setting up from a reclining position is a strange thing. You don't realize this until your body fails you, but how do you actually get up from an inclining position? We don't really think it through, all we do is think "get up" and all our muscles move together to make it happen. Yet when my brain told my body to run, I didn't move. So I got more specific and instructed my body to stand. Nothing. Sit up. Nada. Move my leg. Nothing happening. My body was done. All that remained was my mind and it wasn't working too well either.

The dogs sounded closer.

The barking sound of tracking dogs was now a distant distraction. The dogs no longer mattered. I knew why I couldn't move my limbs. I couldn't move them because I was dying. I accepted this. Though I have never been a man to give up easily, the signs were too obvious to ignore. I'd gotten wet when it was sixteen degrees, then walked all night without getting dry or warm. Soon after crossing that creek I had accepted that I would suffer from frostbite. But I didn't plan on letting a case of frostbite stop me. Nor did it. I was pretty pleased with myself for soldiering on all night. For fighting through the pain and discomfort. My brain had started to shut down on me soon after exiting that creek, but I had been able to keep a single thought at the forefront of my mind: If I stopped I would die. So I had to keep moving. Which I managed all night. All good. But when dawn broke I forgot that simple need. My instincts to elude those chasing me overrode my survival instinct. I laid down in hopes that I wouldn't be seen, but I had forgotten that if I laid down I would die.