Project I.R.I.S.

Chapter Two: Back In My Old Cabin

Cupping his hands before his face, he blew on his cold fingers before snatching up his back. They'd have to try harder than that to keep him out. Removing the flashlight from his teeth, he jogged across the dark snowy toward the cabin. Along the way he scanned the area for any signs of this containment or government equipment, but he saw nothing. The area was just as he remembered it. Thundering up the steps of the cabin, he dropped his bag and excitedly fished out his keys. Eagerly, he unlocked the cabin door. Easing the door open a little, he reached around to the wall and turned the switch for the lights. The switch clicked over but the cabin remained dark. Cursing, he tossed his backpack inside and closed the door. Grumbled out to himself. "Fucking generator..." Hopping off the little porch, he moved around to the side of the house and flashed the light over it. Wiping the snow off the fuel gauge, he flipped a switch as he mumbled under his breath. "Fuel is good. Power is on..." Standing up, he braced a foot on the generator and grabbed the pull tie. Giving it a hard tug, the generator sputtered but didn't turn over.

Groaning, he reset the pull tie and grumbled out. "Come on. Come on." Yanking the pull tie once again, it sputtered and died. Throwing his head back, he snapped out in frustration. "Oh, come on! You piece of shite! Turnover, or I'll kick your arse over!" Giving the pull tie another failed tug, he shouted out angrily. "YOU'RE TESTING MY PATIENCE!" Resetting the pull tie, he took a deep breath and yanked on it so hard that he lost his balance. Releasing the pull tie before he ripped it from the generator as he fell back into the snow, the generator rumbled to life. Sitting up in the cold snow, he let out a victories cheer. Shivering as he got back up to his feet, he kicked a puff of snow at the generator, snapping back at it with leftover frustration. "There! Was that so hard, you fecker!" Exhaling heavily, he jogged back up onto the porch. The lights flickering as they came on inside the cabin. Grinning, he slipped inside where it was only slightly warmer. Stomping the snow off his sneakers, he quickly rushed over to the fireplace and dropped to his knees onto the small rough carpet set before it.

Pulling a newspaper from the kindling rack, he crumbled the pages up separately and tossed a few in with three of the dry logs from the firewood rack. Striking the matches took him one or two tries, but eventually he got it going. Taking a moment to sit back on his heels, he listened to the crackling of the warm fire and inhaled the strong smell of pine. The familiar smell filled him with raw emotions and memories that he hadn't thought about in years. Thoughts of his dad sitting in the lazy boy, cleaning away at his rifle as he told him about how early they were getting up to go hunting. Mixed with memories of him living alone out here as he struggled with college life and where he fit into the world. Glancing over his shoulder at the small living room, he sniffled a little. His past felt like a completely different world. He didn't remember getting so old so fast. Rising to his feet, he pried off his shoes and damp socks. Setting them close to the fire to dry, he walked barefoot across the room to the little room that sat right beside the small kitchen.

Licking his dry lips, he leaned his shoulder against the wall and peered in at the bed. The memory of his sixteen your old him fumbling his way through losing his virginity and thinking she was the one he'd spend the rest of his life with. It brought a smile to his lips to recall how his parents had been right that she wouldn't be. It was such a small part of his life. Before he'd really experienced anything. Inching a bit more into the room, he ran his fingers over his old empty desk where his old computer setup had once been. Recalling how he wanted to bang his head against the wall for having such slow and spotty internet here. As his hand moved off the desk, he absently looked to the window beside his bed. His smile fading as he remembered sitting with his knees to his chest and his lonely eyes cast out the window. Forcing him to remember that with every good memory there was painful one just below the surface. Easing down on the bed, he reached out to try and touch the shoulder of his younger self. He wanted to tell him how life would get better. Only to have his fingers curl through the boy's shoulder as the memory faded away.