The Long Dark: A Survivor's Tale

Frequency

The cold was almost supernatural. My legs cramped from the intense, overwhelming sensation of a thousand, perhaps million of tiny little needles piercing my skin over and over. It seeped into my very bones, chilling me to the core. My hands shook uncontrollably, making handling matches damn near impossible. Luckily, there was a fire striker behind the office's front counter. The firewood caught immediately, slowly filling the building with a very welcoming warmth. My pants were soaked and my legs were (ironically) on fire. While the stove slowly began to warm the office, I stripped off my heavy snow pants and jeans, leaving only my thermal underwear on. I laid my drenched clothing in front of the fire. It would take at least the rest of the night for them to dry completely.

With the fire started and my clothes drying, I decided to have a look around the Camp Office. In the corner of the room, was something that made my heart leap. A bed roll. The question now was, would I be able to carry it along with all of the other stuff in my bag. The rifle alone was around 8 or 10 pounds and a rolled up, down filled bed roll would likely be an extra three at the most. I'd leave it here for the time being. Judging from the slowly rising wind outside, I wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. Through the windows, I watched the snow begin to blow almost horizontally. No, I wasn't going anywhere at least for the rest of the day.

I sat before the small crackling fire, shivering with my coat wrapped around my shoulders. I didn't feel warmer at all, the icy water was so intense I wouldn't be surprised if my bones had turned to ice. The sun had set but the wind had picked up, howling loudly as it swept through the lake area. I must've dozed off because in the time I registered as a mere blink, the fire was suddenly reduced to a few popping embers. I noticed the wind had stopped...and it was quiet. Unnaturally so. But what really caught my attention, was the eerie green glow that came through the windows.

My fears were confirmed by the dimly lit, flickering lights of the Camp Office. They weren't bright but they were on, flickering and flashing. I understood now. The Aurora had somehow affected all electronic equipment. That's why my watch wouldn't work and why the power in the Office didn't work up until now. Why the Aurora was affecting the wildlife was still beyond me. But if the Aurora meant the power came back on...then perhaps that meant the Radio tower in Pleasant Valley would be working! That radio tower was likely my only chance of getting rescued. If I remembered correctly, Pleasant Valley was accessible through the old Hydroelectric Dam. Dammit. From the Camp Office to the Radio tower was at least a 5 day walk. That's IF I don't stop for anything and continue walking 24/7 for 5 days.

With that in mind, I unslung my rifle and examined it. When I slipped on the ice, the rifle had discharged and thankfully saved my life from the bear. As relieving as this was, there was also the possibility that I had severely damaged the rifle internally. Outwardly, it looked all right. It was pretty dinged up but nothing appeared to be broken. I had no idea how to fix this damn thing if it was broken, and I left the cleaning kit back in the bunker.

The Aurora created a rather unsettling feeling in the air around me as the ghostly glow it cast shifted from shades of green to blue, red and purple. During this sleepless moment, I decided to have a look around the building. It was two story, the second level likely being the living area for the now absent staff. Two sets of bunk beds sat perpendicular to each other against the walls. On the small desk to my right was...a radio! The Aurora still illuminated the sky outside. My heart racing, my fingers fumbled around on the dial frantically tuning it across various frequencies, hoping to pick someone or something up. I gripped the mic tightly with my free hand, each wavelength only producing static. Except one. A very faint, crackling voice could be heard behind the static. I excitedly tuned the dial, trying to pick up the broadcast. A series of tones finally came from the speakers. I knew that sound.

"This is an Emergency Alert System broadcast issued by  the National Weather Service and National -bzzzt- Space Administration. The National Aeronautics and Space Administration has detected a Class 4 Coronal Mass Ejection from the surface of the -bzzzt- Federal and Local Authorities recommend -bzzzt- and -bzzt- until the power grid is restored."

My heart sank. It was an automated Alert broadcast and was obviously picking up heavy interference from the Aurora. However, that signal had to be coming from somewhere close! Possibly Signal Hill out in Pleasant Valley meaning the system out there had to be working. Excellent.