Echo from a hollow planet
Matthew Ryan Fischer
The trees were four hundred feet or more and the green filled the
sky above with a brilliance Ethan had never seen. He had walked and slept and
walked more. There was no end to the forest. A mountain towered in the
distance. Green with a dusting of white at the top. No indication that life had
touched let alone conquered. But it was a point he could aim towards. A spot a
million miles away perhaps, but a spot nonetheless.
The air was crisp in a way he wasn’t used to. Everything was open.
And high. Like he was lightheaded from altitude or something close to pure
oxygen. The sky was clear with little hint of clouds or birds. Foraging for food
had proved mostly unproductive, but if there was no sign of birds or other
wildlife, then any trip he was taking anywhere were going to be futile very
quickly.
Solitude had always been appealing. Now it signaled death.
There was no value in focusing on that. He had to move. He had to
try. There was moisture in the morning. His camping skills were beyond rusty,
but there was a chance to stave off dying of thirst. Of hunger though? Shut up,
he commanded himself. He would eat leaves and dirt if it gave him a chance to
take one more step. Somewhere on this god forsaken planet there would be
something.
He was alone. As an obvious statement of fact. But he was alone meaning
he had come here alone. There was no one else with him. That was an important
fact. Perhaps. But being alone meant the others were elsewhere which meant
there was always a chance of rescue. A very small chance, but enough that he couldn’t
give up. He would find water. He would find food.
The mountain never seemed to grow closer. The travel was long and
exhausting. The lack of food made him irritable and cranky. He wanted to nap but
dared not stop.
The ground turned wet and muddy and the mud turned swampy. Ethan
realized he had been descending, but not by much. When he looked back, he could
see he was feet lower. But it was unclear what he was walking into or why. But
the path forward would have to wait. He couldn’t trudge through mud. Tired
already, there was no way he could power through. Plus, he had to way to dry wet
muddy clothes. He would have to go around.
The sun began to set, and the trees thinned a little and little
sparkling glimmers began to appear. The sunset was reflecting off water. A lot
of water. A lake that went forever. Inches deep, but enough for him to drink
deep. In the distance the trees continued, growing out of the water, for miles
and miles and they appeared to sink lower. The lake was more like an ocean. But
he drank the water and it seemed crystal clear. A fresh water ocean? Perhaps. There
didn’t seem to be any motion, so no sea life? There didn’t seem to be any waves
or tides, so a lake. Just a really really big lake that seemed to go forever.
He wasn’t sure how he was going to get to the mountains now. Even
if he did, what was the point? He had hoped that from higher ground he would be
able to see signs of human life. Fire. Or buildings. Or something. But he was
pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen. And he doubted he was going to find much
wildlife anyway. Maybe he had a week or a month. His body would slowly eat
itself. If he stayed here and didn’t exert himself maybe he could get two or
three months. In a dream scenario. Would that the others enough time to find
him? It was a grim reality and he didn’t want to think of it.
What had they done? Why had he ended up here? There was no one there
to tell.
The sun set further and he realized he should have been working on
some sort of shelter. Maybe the water would rise at night. Maybe he needed to retrace
his steps and head back inland further.
The sky was clear and the stars were bright, like there had never
been an ounce of smog to block them. And then Ethan saw the rising moon. The
moon was splintered, with debris trailing behind it in the night sky.
That’s different, he thought. Probably not good. Like he needed
another thing to add to the list.
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