A touch of crimson light

Анатолий Бускин

A touch of crimson light

Prologue

Chris drove his old pickup down the narrow forest road that led to the secluded cabin he'd inherited from his father. He was driving from a small town called Ridgeport-it was his hometown. The sun was setting, coloring the treetops a warm golden hue. The radio station was playing quietly in the car, but the music couldn't distract Chris from thinking about the upcoming roof repair. He had already noticed a few leaks after the rain, and now his mind was occupied with plans to replace the old slate.

Suddenly the phone rang, and Chris automatically hit the speaker button without looking at the screen.

– Yes, I'm listening," he said, trying to speak louder than the noise of the engine.

– Hi," he heard Mary's familiar voice.

– Hi, did you miss me already? – Chris asked with a smile.

– Yeah, I miss you already," she replied. – How are you doing?

– Turned off Highway 61," Chris answered, glancing at the pothole in the road. – I'll be there in a couple more hours.

– Come back again," Mary said with a smile, "save me from loneliness.

– What about the repairs? – The roof is leaking. We can't put it off, or we'll have to redo everything inside.

– I know, I know," Mary sighed. – I just wanted to hear your voice. You're not going to lose the connection up there, are you?

– The signal's almost gone," Chris said, looking at the screen of his phone. – I'm on a forest road, and there's almost no reception.

Soon I'll be riding in transfixed loneliness, Chris said.

– You're the master of solitude," Mary said with a slight sneer.

– What kind of innuendo? – Chris laughed. – Solitude is good for everyone. It is confirmed by great philosophers. It helps to energize and relieve excess weight from the soul. Anyway, I'm going on business.

– Just don't overcharge," Mary said jokingly. – Did you bring your tools? You didn't forget anything?

– Yeah, everything on the list," Chris replied, patting the backpack on the seat.

– Is there enough food for the weekend?

– Yeah, I also want to shoot some game, and there's some in the cellar. So I won't go hungry.

Chris looked again at the road, illuminated by the headlights of his car. Suddenly, something unusual caught his attention. He noticed a glow in the sky, colored in purple-red shades. The light was so bright that it blinded him for a moment.

– Mary, you won't believe what I'm seeing right now," he said excitedly.

– What?" Mary asked.

– It looks like the northern lights, but the color is kind of weird, purple.

– You're not kidding? How is that possible?

– I don't know," Chris answered, staring. – But it's insanely beautiful.

– I'll have to ask Chloe. She works at the weather station, maybe she knows something about this phenomenon," said Mary.

– Okay," Chris replied as he continued to stare up at the sky.

– Okay, Chris, be careful out there," Mary said. – If anything happens, call me right away.

– Okay," Chris repeated.

– Okay, bye. Love you.

– You too," Chris replied, smiling.

He turned off his phone and looked up at the sky again. I wonder what that could have been? – he thought. The radio on the stereo began to stutter, and soon all that was left was the noise in the speakers.

– That's it," Chris muttered, turning off the radio. – There's no more connection. I've got to pick up the pace, because I'm going like a turtle.

The sun was almost hidden behind the horizon, and the forest around him had fallen into a soft twilight. The light from the car's headlights was the only source of illumination, revealing the winding road and the sparse trees along the side of the road.

Chris gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying not to be distracted by thoughts of the strange phenomenon. He had roof repairs ahead of him, and then perhaps a hunt. He knew he had a few days of solitude ahead of him, but there was a charm to it.

Chapter 1: The Crash

Chris was enjoying the solitude and silence when he noticed something unusual in the sky. At first he thought it was a big bird approaching very fast, but soon he realized that it was an airplane. The sudden rumble of an explosion deafened him, and at the same moment Chris felt the car shake violently.

The car spun out of control like a rabid beast and, doing a wild somersault, plummeted into the ditch. Time seemed to slow down. Chris, who was inside, felt his body thrown against the door. There was a deafening ringing in his ears, and dazzling sparks flashed before his eyes. For a few moments he was plunged into a viscous darkness, unconscious.

When consciousness returned, Chris felt an excruciating pain piercing every cell of his body. It was like thousands of hot needles digging into his skin. But to his surprise, he realized that there were no serious injuries. Perhaps a few abrasions and bruises, but nothing that would incapacitate him.

Chris got out of the car and looked around. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his breathing was ragged. There was silence all around, broken only by the crackling of burning debris and his own hoarse breathing. There was an acrid odor in the air, mixed with the scent of burning.

He tried to get up, but his legs shook, and he collapsed back to the ground. His head was splitting with pain, and his eyes were blurry. He got up again and walked slowly to the crash site.

There's nothing left. Just a pile of smoking metal and the charred remains of what had once been a living airplane. Chris stopped, nausea rising in his throat. He couldn't believe that all this had happened to him.

– Is there anyone here? – He shouted hoarsely, but his voice was drowned in the silence.

Chris moved slowly forward, stepping around the wreckage. The light from the burning fuel of the airplane picked out a piece of wing or a melted piece of metal from the darkness.

Slowly he reached the spot where the plane had crashed, forming a ravine. The plane, or what was left of it, lay on its side, its wheels still spinning in the air, as if trying to get out of a trap. Chris looked at his car. It was in the same condition as the airplane.

Where's my phone? – Chris asked to himself, not yet realizing what was happening. He started recklessly searching his pants pockets.

The car, it hit him. He had been in the car! Trying to process what was happening, Chris tried to remember what had happened. The last thing he remembered was getting behind the wheel and driving onto the road. But what had happened next?

He walked toward his overturned car. It was lying on its side, and as he got closer, Chris saw that the passenger side window was broken.

– Where are you? – Chris said, looking around. His voice sounded muffled and distant, as if it came from underwater.

The acrid odor grew stronger and stronger. He covered his nose with his hand, so that he could inhale less. It was the smell of fuel, mixed with something else, chemical and nauseating. Chris took a step back, feeling his heart start to beat faster.

– We have to go," he said to himself. – Before I pass out here.

He looked around, but the phone was nowhere to be seen. Maybe it had fallen out when the car had flipped over?

Chris took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He knew he had to find the phone, but at the same time he knew it was too dangerous to stay here. The acrid smell was becoming unbearable, and Chris felt himself begin to vomit.

He headed toward the road that led away, toward the horizon. But the road was deserted, as if it had been abandoned long ago. No cars, no sign of life. Just dust.

Chris headed in the direction of his forest dwelling. He realized that he needed to leave the place. There was a strong acrid odor in the air, the source of which was an airplane. Chris needed to get home to contact his neighbor and inform him of what had happened. He walked, staggering as if he were slightly drunk.

Chris stopped and looked up at the sky. The sun was no longer visible, only colored clouds in shades of purple and orange. Soon it would be completely dark. He knew he had to find shelter, or he would just collapse right here on this road.

Suddenly he noticed something near the woods. It was an old wooden shed that looked like a stable. It was half hidden behind the trees, but still close enough for Chris to reach it.

The hangar looked abandoned, but it was better than nothing. Chris quickened his steps, trying to ignore the pain in his body. He was almost to the hangar when he heard a strange sound.

It was an incomprehensible rustle. Chris stopped and listened. The sound came from behind the trees. He froze, feeling a chill run down his spine.

"It's just the wind," he told himself, but his heart still beat faster.

Chris breathed out a sigh of relief. He still felt fear, but at least now he knew that there was no one in the forest but him.

He headed toward the hangar, feeling his strength leaving him. It was dark inside the hangar, but Chris could make out some old wooden racks and hay scattered on the floor. It was the best place he could find.

He collapsed onto the hay and closed his eyes. The pain in his body was unbearable, but Chris knew that this was only the beginning. Tomorrow he would have to move on. But right now he just wanted to rest.

"I survived," he thought, feeling fatigue come over him.

And with that thought, he drifted into sleep.

Chapter 2: The Road to the Forest Home

Chris lay on the hay, twitching and muttering. He was having a dream in which he was trying to catch up with his beloved Mary. They were running in the woods, and Mary kept trying to get away from Chris. He tried to catch her from behind a tree, but missed every time. They laughed, but Chris couldn't catch Mary's hand.

There was a lot of fog around, which gradually became thicker and thicker. The fog turned a purple color, and Chris began to peer into the thicket. He saw two familiar rocks that connected him to the hunt. He looked back at Mary and saw intense fear in her eyes.

– What's wrong? – Chris tried to say, but heard himself in a distorted voice. Mary shrieked suddenly:

– Chris!

He jerked sharply and woke up.

Realizing he was in the hangar, Chris felt pain from the bruises he had received in the crash. He tried to stand up, clenching his teeth against the pain in his side.

– Well, it looks like a cracked rib," he thought. Chris got up and walked to the hangar gate and opened the half-broken gate. Squinting against the sunlight, he stepped outside.

Chris looked around and wondered what to do next. He realized that if he got to the road, he would have to walk seven kilometers more to his house in the woods than if he walked through the forest. Chris was well oriented in these parts and knew that the forest was his fastest route.

He was running through his head how to contact Ted, who lived three kilometers from Chris's forest home. But first he needed to get to the cabin. Chris looked up at the sun to see where north was and where south was. He quickly oriented himself and moved toward the forest.

The forest was sparse, and Chris slowly but surely made his way deeper into the thicket. The forest was thick, and Chris walked slowly but steadily into the thicket.

– I would never hurt Mary," he muttered. Chris thought about the airplane that had gone down yesterday. It was clearly not a passenger airliner, but a freighter. He tried to recall important details and suddenly remembered that the tail of the airplane was labeled "Atmosphere".

– We'll have to hurry to get there before dark," Chris sighed and quickened his pace. As he made his way through the forest, he noticed that it was getting denser. It was good that it was not cloudy today, so he could orient himself by the sun. But he had to take into account the radius of change of direction every hour. Chris knew these places well because of his training. His father had been a wilderness survivalist for many years and had taught Chris everything he needed to know. It was his father who built this house in the woods.

After a few hours of wandering, Chris saw familiar places – two large rocks where he had once shot a wild boar, just like the ones he had seen in his dream.

– Yes, this is it," he exclaimed. – This is the place.

Chris quickly oriented himself in which direction to go to get on the hunting trail and reach his native forest home.

When he found the path, Chris tried his best to walk faster. He was so exhausted that he could hardly feel his legs. The terrible pain from his bruises reminded him that he was still on his feet. The sun was beginning to set when Chris noticed a bright glow that cast a purple light over the area.

– There's that glow again," he muttered, feeling uneasy. As he emerged from the thicket of the forest, he saw the roof of his forest home.

– Finally," he said with relief. But then he smelled a strange odor in the air. It was like the smell after a thunderstorm, only stronger. Chris thought he'd smelled it before, when the plane went down.

Suddenly Chris began to feel very dizzy. He realized that he had to speed up. Gathering all his strength, he ran towards the house. A crimson glow filled his entire gaze. It was a beautiful but ominous sight. Fear was growing.

Chris ran with all his might. His legs seemed to twitch, and his arms were cramping. Suddenly he stopped and threw his head back.

– What's happening to me? – he whispered. – Am I dead? – Is that the end of it?!

There was a lump in his throat, and he felt very sick at the thought that he would never see his Mary again. He remembered the dream he had seen in the hangar. It was as if he had seen Mary's silhouette in the fog, running from him toward the house, looking back and smiling.

Chris tried to move toward Mary. His legs wouldn't listen, and his hands felt like they were grasping for air. But he kept going. Suddenly his hand hit the porch railing. Chris grasped it as hard as he could and began to climb toward the door.

When he reached the door, he yanked on the knob, and the door popped the lock with a crash. As soon as Chris was inside the house, everything was muted, and he felt much better. He took a few steps into the back of the room and collapsed, unconscious.

Chapter 3: Radio Communications

Chris lay on the floor, feeling the morning sunlight through the ajar door. His body felt heavy and stiff, his head humming as if a thousand tiny hammers were beating inside. He raised his head slowly, trying to realize what had happened. His eyes were still hazy, but he gradually began to make out the outline of the room: an old wooden table and cracked floorboards brought Chris to consciousness.

Suddenly he remembered. A wave of panic swept over him. He struggled to his feet, feeling his knees shake and the pain throbbing in his temples. Going to the door, Chris gingerly touched the broken lock.

Chris looked out into the yard and squinted against the bright light. It was a sunny day, birds chirping in the distance, a light breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees.

Chris closed the door and headed for the sink. He turned on the faucet, and cold water came in a thin trickle. He leaned over and greedily clung to the faucet, feeling the water fill his parched throat. The taste was surprisingly pleasant, as if he'd never drunk anything like it before.

Chris washed his face with his shirt sleeve and looked at himself in the mirror. His reflection was pale and haggard, with dark circles under his eyes. He remembered again what had happened. The plane crash, the impact, the pain, the loss of consciousness.

On the second floor was the small radio room he and Ted used for hunting. Chris walked up the creaky steps, feeling his heart beating faster with each step.

– I hope the solar panels are working," Chris said to himself.

Stepping into the room, Chris flicked a switch and the lights came on.

– They're still working," Chris thought with relief.

Chris was an expert in the field installation of solar powered LED lighting fixtures. His professional activities involved frequent business trips.

Chris turned on the radio and twisted the tuning knob, but all he heard was hissing. "This thing only has a five kilometer radius," he thought. – "Only Ted lives within that zone. It won't reach the city." He frowned and tried once more to catch a signal, but to no avail. Chris sighed irritably and tried again. But the silence was so thick that it seemed to fill the entire space around him.

– What the hell is this? – he muttered, looking at the radio. – Come on, honey, come on.

He spoke to the station as if it could hear him. But there was no answer. Only hissing and crackling.

He was about to leave when suddenly he heard a voice:

– Come in, this is Ted. Has anyone tried to make contact?

Chris froze. His heart hammered harder. He turned around and ran to the radio.

– Yeah, yeah, it's me, Ted, your neighbor. Chris, can you hear me?

– Hey, how are you doing, did you finally decide to renovate? – Ted's voice sounded cheerful, but Chris could sense the tension in it. – I wasn't listening to what you said on the radio, I was outside. All I heard was someone talking. Okay, the window was open.

Chris took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

– Ted, listen to me carefully," he said, trying to speak as quickly as possible. – I was in an accident with a plane that crashed right into the road. My car was flipped over, and I'm lucky I wasn't hurt badly. It took me 24 hours to get here. You need to contact the local authorities immediately and report the crash. The plane is about 10 kilometers from here. Over.

– Are you serious? – Ted's voice sounded surprised. – It's-it's not a joke, is it?

– Yeah, Ted, this is no joke. We need to report it immediately. Come in.

– But there's no communication here," Ted said. – My radio station doesn't reach the nearest village either. You know that, don't you?

– Then you'll have to drive there," Chris replied. – Is your car running?

– Yes," said Ted. – But it's going to take time – There's someone alive in there, he asked.

– No, I didn't find anyone," Chris said.

Maybe there were chemicals on the plane. I smelled something strange when I came to. We need to report it as soon as possible.

– How are you feeling yourself? – Ted asked.

– I think I'm okay," Chris said. – But my side hurts a lot, and I'm dizzy. But I'll be all right.

– All right, I'll grab my first aid kit and come by your place," Ted said. – Come on, hang in there, buddy.

– Thank you, Ted," Chris said, tears welling up in his eyes. – I'll be waiting.

He hung up the walkie-talkie, walked over to the couch, and carefully lay down. His body was shaking, and his mind was spinning with thoughts. He couldn't believe he'd managed to contact Ted. But it was exactly what he needed right now.

Chris closed his eyes and tried to calm down. He needed to hold on a little longer. Soon Ted would be here, and it would all be over.

Chapter 4. Meeting the neighbor

Chris heard footsteps coming up the creaky stairs. His heart clenched, but he knew it was Ted. His neighbor's voice sounded clear and confident:

– Chris, where are you? – It's me.

– Ted, I'm here, down the hall to the right.

– Got it," Ted replied, and his footsteps grew louder.

The door of the room opened with a slight creak, and Ted appeared in the doorway. His face was focused, but there was a shadow of a smile in his eyes. He deftly removed the bag from his shoulder and pulled out the first aid kit.

– So what do we have here? – Ted asked, pulling out a flashlight and checking it.

Chris, still lying on the couch, propped himself up on his elbows.

– You're like a doctor," he said with a slight chuckle, trying to hide the pain.

– And I am a doctor," Ted answered with a serious look, but there was a smile in the corner of his eyes. – Not for people, but for other animals.

– A veterinarian? – Chris guessed.

– That's right," Ted confirmed, pulling some pills out of the medicine cabinet. – But today I'll be treating a human being.

He shined the flashlight into Chris's eyes, checking for a reaction, then put his ear to his chest, listening for breathing.

After a quick examination of Chris, Ted made a final diagnosis.

– What can I say," Ted finally said, "you're not seriously injured. Just a cracked rib and a slight concussion. You'll live. I'm going to give you some pills to help you recover and take them once a day.

Chris took the pills, drinking them with water from the bottle Ted had brought.

– Thank you," he said quietly, feeling the warmth spill over his body.

– Get some rest," Ted said, tucking the first aid kit into his bag. – I'm going into town now. I have to report the plane crash to the local police. I'll try to tow your car.

– No, Ted, don't go there first," Chris stopped him. – There's chemical waste or something. Make sure you tell them they need special people. And anyway, maybe they've already cordoned it off. It's been 24 hours. Just tell them what I said. We'll pick up the car later. It's upside down anyway.

Ted hesitated, frowning his eyebrows.

– Okay," he finally agreed. – I'll go. Is there anything you want me to pick up in town?

– Yes, you can buy a phone and a SIM card," Chris said. – I don't have a connection, but I'll have one. I lost my phone in the accident.

– Okay," Ted nodded. – Anything else?

– Can you get some food? – Chris asked. – Something you don't have to cook. I'm not in any condition to cook anytime soon.

– Copy that," Ted said. – And, Chris, don't worry. Everything's going to be all right.

He slung his bag on his shoulder and headed for the exit.

Chris was alone. He was lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling. The room was silent, broken only by the light creaking of the floorboards. He felt weak, but at the same time there was hope in his soul.

There was the sound of an engine outside. Chris raised himself on his elbows and looked out the window. Ted was getting into his old truck. The truck started slowly and soon disappeared around the corner.

Chris sighed and lay down on the couch again. His stomach rumbled, showing that he was hungry. Chris thought about the cellar, and he remembered that there was food there. He needed something to eat to regain his strength.

Chris gathered his courage and rose to his feet. Every movement was difficult, but he knew he had to do it. Holding onto the wall, he slowly made his way down to the first floor. His gaze fell on the broken door. Chris realized he had to fix it or he wouldn't feel safe.

When he went down into the cellar, he found that everything was organized, just the way he liked it. His eyes immediately fell on the stew that stood in the corner on the second shelf. Chris picked it up and put it on the table. Then he found a jar of pickled mushrooms and took those too.

– Here it is," he said aloud, opening the stew. – Okay, let's get some more mushrooms. And life will start to get better.

He went upstairs to open the jars. The room was quiet, only the wind could be heard outside the window. Chris opened the stew and mushrooms, and his eyes fell on the cutlery. He remembered that he had a can opener.

Chris quickly opened both cans and began to greedily eat straight from them. The taste of stew and mushrooms was familiar and pleasant. He felt his strength gradually returning to him.