1.2 ~ Take the Hill
Chapter One continues. The old man begins hiking toward the destroyed observatory compound atop Mars Mountain.
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Chapter Note: this section has footnotes. Click the number to read more or go back.
[…CONTINUATION OF FILE no. <03.15.063/D9.X4.P2>]
Take the Hill
He ran across the main trail, a dirt two-track service road, then began his ascent. Straight up Mars Mountain, no time to rest. The rain was now a heavy drizzle. Still plenty of sound camouflage, most likely. But the storm was starting to clear.
Three—four minutes tops... I think.
That’s all he needed to get out of sight. Maybe a little more at this age. Another gamble.
Odds probably worse than a coin flip this time.
The air was thick. The steep hike was hard.
Be as quiet as possible. Move fast. Don’t cough.
He felt heavy. His dripping sweatshirt and torn double-jeans1 were adding pounds to the effort.
Half way. Slow down a little so you can make it.
He heard a truck coming up the main trail below. Around him were strewn tree carcasses, dead and downed remains from the small fire in ‘038. He crouched to lay behind one and found the yellow long grass spongy and comfortable. No mud there, not too sloppy.
A black SUV came into view and sloshed down the two-track road. There were more out looking for him. How many would be hunting? The bounty for his D-Scan2 alone wouldn’t have been worth that much to split.
The truck romped by and was almost gone. Far enough away at this point. Nobody saw him. This sharp moment had given him a chance to breathe. It also gave him a nervous fire inside his belly.
Finish the hike.
It was steeper toward the top. Hiking straight up is so much harder than using switchbacks for anyone, even this well-conditioned 71 year-old man.
Once atop the incline he scrambled toward thick shrubs and trees beyond. Moving fast through scrub oak and pine trees, he trudged into the forest. He’s getting close to the old Lowell astronomy campus. Though, this could be a really bad thing. It’s less than a thousand feet northeast through the woods. He’s almost sure of it. The burned crumbling buildings would provide cover. The landmark would give directive.
Gotta be deserted right now from the rain. Hopefully.
Sometimes the older kids went up there to fuck and smoke. The skeletons of these old buildings have a mysterious draw. For the younger ones it became the most serious of dares to hike up and come back with a souvenir, proof of their feat.
A while back—after the big Moon Fire in ‘045—gunkwicks camped up there on occasion. They didn’t anymore.
⥈
The recently discovered stories encoded by Yunipter recount our heroes ambushing them at night when they saw campfires or heard drunk laughter echoing down from the hill.
According to the encryption files, this was likely to have occurred in the late 2040’s. ‘Undefined per-annum’ it reads when this entry is located inside a folder name-dated: n.i.2046-2053. It’s not a corrupted file. This period is just poorly organized.
…
“What's my plan?!” He whispered out loud again.
He could smell himself. Smell his own thoughts. There was no wind, but he worried a down draft from the rain may carry his scent. That elk-hound looked fierce. It sounded like a demon.
He heard it again. Down and over to the west?
Damn. Where are they?
Peering through layers of trees, he can barely make out the several structures. Soon he’d see the half-standing buildings that surround what remains of old dome-shaped telescope houses.
The hunters might’ve headed up that way, if they continued up the north trail. Either that or they’d backtracked by now. He kept hoping. He hoped they’re searching off-trail. He also knew that hiding out up there was a bad idea. But he needed to get past the campus area and make it over and down to safety. Or some form of safety. Safer than staying up on the hill.
40% chance they’ll just happen upon me right here within five minutes. That dog will find me.
On the move again, headed for the burnt out Lowell facility. He counts every five steps.
5 , 4 , 3 , 2 , 1 … Stop and listen.
Quiet. Stillness.
The rain had mostly stopped. The day was getting late, the clouds were getting thin. A large glowing streak of blue peaked through the southeastern horizon. Bright oranges and deep purples illuminated the sky through a clearing in the west.
He’s almost there, it’s visible in the near distance.
A third of the large rotunda wall was in ruins. Destroyed by that ruinous Moon Fire in 2045. The huge cylindrical body of the telescope is exposed from within. It’s dripping, looking like a bloody compound fracture puncturing and protruding the skin.
He’s moving forward with stoic caution, clear-eyed and intentional.
I have a plan.
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Section Footnotes:
Take your regular fitting jeans and find a much larger pair. Put the smaller pair inside the big. Sew together with canvas thread throughout the leg areas. Not the waist! This process can be repeated multiple times until you need to start over with a fresh fitting pair.
D-Scans & L-Scans. The D-Scan is a "dead scan” warrant. L-Scan is a “live-scan” warrant. L-scans are rare, only used to capture for interrogation. Rare because the warrant commissioners typically already know what they need to know. Bounty contractors can upload a scan to the OrbitBank and get their crypto e-coin disbursement immediately. If there are multiple hunters, Orbank cuts the amount evenly. The contractors’ lives are fully controlled by the OB global p-crypto blockchain. It dictates what they can buy, where they can travel, and even categorizes their withholdings into the specific spending budgets they’re beholden to. If their S-Score falls below 53 they could have their accounts frozen under the claim of ‘dolo malo’ or 'disappointment fraud’. Every contractor has to renew their license every three years. But they can’t get out of a renewal. If they decline a contracted renewal offer—for any reason at all— it’s an L-Scan on them for sure… which always leads to a D-Scan. And that’s rough when you’re already in custody.