Salvation

As the sun peaked over the horizon; the northern remote parts of Ontario where getting there wake up call. Nothing could be heard except the birds singing their morning songs, and the light whisper of the breeze sailing through the brisk Canadian air. Morning dew sparkled in the light and gave off an overwhelming sense of tranquility. It was indeed one beautiful Saturday morning.
Travel north and you will see vast fields, mountains, forests, and pristine water. The remote parts of Canada are a place of world class hunting, as well as a few places left on Earth where civilization ceases to exist. Deep into the wilderness; there lied a man. At first sight you would assume death had met him. Carelessly, and motionless on the damp forest floor -- lied John Kole.
As the sunrise broke through his eyelids he was struck with sadness. Unlike the rest of the forest John didn't want to be awakened, not ever. With no supplies or food, and his cloths drenched; he was a man with no hope. Scratches, sores, and bruises cover his body, and a large cut spanning five inches under his right rib cage. With every movement a sharp agonizing pain rushed through his torso. He could feel his life slowly slipping away, not even the energy to pick himself of his chest.
John’s predicament was unique. Two weeks ago he came to Canada from the Big City for a wolf hunt. Their company consisted of his brother in law, and a few of his buddies. The weeks prior to the hunt were full of bragging at the office, and wearing the title "Wolf Hunter" pompously.
The hunt was going as planned for the first couple of days. Drinking copious amounts of Markers Mark Whiskey, strutting around in the best gear money can buy, and fallowing the guides throughout the forest-- It was a Cabelas worthy vacation. On their first Friday; they received reports of a giant storm coming from the west. They ignored the reports, thinking they would be back to camp by that time. While tracking an injured wolf shot by John's brother in law Scott. The approaching storm came quicker than expected. It all happened so quickly; from a partly cloudy day, to intense winds and sideways rain with in minuets. Everyone was having the fight of their life trying to keep there balance, and trying to see with the rock hard rain hitting their face. The whiskey wasn’t helping at all. The wind was so strong and forest so thick; John was knocked over and landed on a log, sending a sharp pain through him. He let out a murderous scream and looked down to see a broken branch connected to the log, wedged in his side. The storm however was too thunderous, and no one heard. Throughout the commotion the group gradually became more and more separated from John; until, he was alone and completely lost... John has been missing for eight days. The fact that people are usually found dead after the first forty-eight hours was imprinted in his mind. Like a giant billboard that you can see for miles, but never going out of sight.
This Saturday morning was everything but beautiful. In fact he couldn't be experiencing Hell in any closer fashion. He starts to sob; as he lies there drowning in his sorrows; reeking from his un-bathed self, and his mouth dryer then sand from the extreme dehydration. Embarrassment struck him; crying and feeling sorry for himself, it felt unfamiliar and shameful. Waking up was something he did not want to happen. He had prayed and prayed that he would slip away in his sleep. He could no longer survive.
Being from New York-- having exposed himself to nature-- he felt like he was a good outdoors man. Nothing however prepared him for this. The first couple of nights were tolerable. He had supplies, and more clothing. Unfortunately improper shelter and harsh weather conditions took away most of his possessions. The only thing of real value he still acquired was his sense of direction. Heading south seemed like the best bet; there were a few small villages in northern Ontario.
This fact and the constant image of his beautiful wife Stephanie, and four year old twin daughters--imprinted in his mind--are what motivate him to keep going. He can see the three of them now as they waved goodbye--standing on either side of their mom-- as he boarded the plan; they were so cute with their brunette hair, and blue eyes. It was no doubt Taylin and Olivia took after their mom.
"Okay girls come give me a hug," as he bends down and opens his arms. Olivia, already in tears runs into his embrace; followed by Taylin, who’s trying to fight off the urge to cry. In a rough tone John says "Hey I’ll be home in no time, and I want you guys to be good for your mom...OKAY?" trying to hide the knot forming in his throat.
"Okkkay, daddy," Taylin says now in tears.
"Alright I love both, and I will be home before you know it." He gives them one last squeeze, not wanting to let go. John and Stephanie say another good bye. They embrace and exchange a kiss. He then turns and heads towards the terminal.
John Kole for the most part is a good man. He provides for his family, donates, and does a lot for the community. That aside he couldn't help, but think he was being punished for all his greed in life. Having an ego his size, comes with petty wants; cars, cloths, up-scale home, and glorious wolf hunts in the dangerous Canadian wilderness.
Lying on the moss covered floor, picturing his daughters without a father is devastating him. The need to get back to them, trumps any desire he has experienced. Picturing his daughters at his funeral; their first day of school, dances, graduation, and walking down the isle at their wedding alone is overwhelming.
John continuously asking himself, “do they know I’m missing…are they searching for me?” Not having anything with sufficient calories or water in four days; starvation and dehydration are taking their toll. He knows his time is coming. After hours of staring down at his chosen place to die he slowly looks up and sees sun breaking through the trees ahead. Being so deep in the forest, this was the first opening he’s seen. Excitement in the most intense form struck him. Possibilities of a field or some village where he can find rescue easier flood over him. He couldn't believe it, he cries in joy, “I'm going to make it, I'm going home!” One feat still stood in his way. The break in the forest was at least two hundred yards away. This distance might as well be two miles; but there was no other way, he had to go for it. Trying to gain the absolute last strength he could muster. John digs his dirty blackened hands into the earth and pushes himself up. Pain surges through his body. It felt like a hot piece of metal was poking the inside of his cut. He takes in a deep breath before attempting his first step. The brisk air felt heavenly on his dry mouth.
One step after another he moves his way across the forest floor. With each step he feels as if he gained a pound; his adrenaline pumps harder than ever, it felt as if his cut wasn’t even there. Not caring about the small branches scratching his face and arms he continues. All that matters is getting to the opening; that is all that matters. Still awestruck by excitement he makes his was closer and closer. As the opening came more in reach, he could feel the heat radiating off the sun; it felt as if God was embracing him after his struggle. About to explode from his anxiousness, he makes it to the opening.
He can’t believe his eyes. It was the most beautiful sight he has ever laid eyes on, and for the first time that morning. John Kole was able to shed a tear. He continued to walk; at a little slower pace--Only fifteen feet to salvation--each step his sorrow and joy grow. The way John walked seemed similar to that of an inmate walking out of the front gates of prison. Only a couple more steps left. John took his last step and he took flight.
From the break in the woods there lied no field, or village; instead a cliff edge. As John fell hundreds of feet it was as peaceful as a bird in flight. No sound or yelling. His head blank but memory of that last hug he shared with his daughters, as he rushes through the air. That’s what he focused on until...There was nothing.