Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
With the vicious roars still echoing through my head, I don’t know if I’ll ever come back.
Chapter Two
Madison
“Don’t fucking move!” I scream as I point the barrel of my revolver between his creepy fucking eyes. “I’ll blow your goddamn head off! I swear I will.”
He hisses at me with his long black tongue as he coils back, ready to strike.
God, I hate snakes.
And this is a scary one.
It’s a Prairie Rattlesnake. You can tell it’s venomous by its vertical slit eye pupils and long sharp fangs that are dripping out clear liquid. And if that wasn’t enough, the rattling tail that’s sending cold shivers up my spine is broadcasting the snake’s deadly intentions.
I step back in my battered hiking boots and the snake slithers forward.
“You’re not listening!” I shout as the gun shakes in my hand. “Go away!”
It’s spoiling for a brawl, but it brought a rattle to a gunfight.
The snake strikes at the air and I pull the trigger and scream.
Boom!
The gunshot is deafening, making my ears ring as the echo rumbles through the mountains. The recoil sends my hand flying back as the snake flees into the long grass.
I missed. The bullet slammed into the ground beside his head, sending sand and dirt flying into his face and scaring him away.
My heart is pounding as I point the gun at the tall grass where he disappeared into. It’s not moving.
“I’m out of here,” I whisper, and then I start running. I run along the narrow dirt trail that’s cut into the mountain and only slow down when I’m sure the asshole snake is far behind me.
I should quit.
That voice. It’s always here. Always taunting me.
Quit. Quit. You don’t belong out here. Quit. Wouldn’t a nice hotel room be better than sleeping in a tent on the cold hard ground? Hot food. Hot shower. Quit! Quit!!!
“I’m not quitting!” I yell to the voice, to myself, to the mountains.
I haven’t done anything in my life, but I’m doing this. I’m finishing this fucking trail.
The Monstrous Montana Mountain Trail is a beast of a trail. 1,500 miles through the wilderness and I’m doing it all on my own.
My mom said I wouldn’t last a day. Wouldn’t even finish ten miles.
But here I am, a month into it and I haven’t quit yet.
I’m hiking solo to prove to myself that I can do it. That I can do something.
Up until this point, my life has been stagnant. It’s been non-existent. It’s been nineteen years of nothing. Video-games. Binging on Netflix. Barely passing school.
I needed something to jumpstart my life.
A shock to the system.
Something to prove that I am capable of doing big things. Or being someone worth loving.
Six weeks ago, I was at the video game store, about to buy another game that would help waste more hours of my depressing life when I overheard the employees talking about hiking the triple M trail.
For the first time in a long time, it gave me goosebumps, it got my heart racing, and I knew it was exactly what I needed. A grueling three-month hike through the wilderness to test what I was really made of. I dropped the video game and went to the bookstore instead to buy a guidebook for the hike. I read it cover to cover in one sitting and then prepared.
Two weeks later, I was under the hot sun, ankles killing, back aching, but moving. To what, I don’t know, but I know I’ll be a different person on the other end of this trail.
I slide my revolver back into my bag and keep moving. After hearing the terrifying sound of wolves howling on the first night in the wilderness, I ran into the closest town the next morning and bought this revolver. It’s been within reach ever since.
With the snake safely behind me, I continue hiking through the mountains. It’s a gorgeous day with my sweater wrapped around my waist and my sunglasses on.
A falcon cuts through the blue sky and I watch as it arcs down and lands on a towering Aspen tree. I’m surrounded by beauty out here. It’s truly magnificent.
I hike for a few more hours until the blister on my right foot is stinging so much that I stop to make camp for the night. I’ve become a pro at this and I can set up my tent and have a fire going in less than twenty minutes.
When the branches are curled in flames in front of me, I sit down and pull out my map. The closest town is Blackcloud Point, whatever that is. I’m planning on following the trail and walking past it through the mountains until my next stop in another town, about three days away.
My progress has been slow, but at least I’m out here. At least, I’m doing it. This time last year, I was chugging energy drinks and playing Fortnite non-stop. It’s pretty pathetic when your virtual life is better than your real one. When you’ve never met any of your friends in real life and the only guy you kissed was digital.