Wilderness

Josh swung the axe with a practised hand, crashing its sharp, worn blade into a log. There was a satisfying crack as the moss-covered limb split in two, a clean incision exposing the light wood inside. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he bent down to sort through the last of the firewood he had chopped. The final rays of the day’s sunshine were straining between low clouds, dappling the sky with orange and red flecks. A gentle, flickering glow emanated from Josh’s wooden cabin, a single-storey structure nestled in thick pine forest. His home was remote. Very remote. The nearest town was well over an hour’s drive away, through winding back roads which became practically inaccessible in winter. Josh had lived here for four years, working long hours of construction during the summer before stocking up and seeing out the colder months in solitude. Manual labour and solitary confinement, he often reminded himself.

He heaved his axe onto his shoulder, before dropping it into the back of his weathered pick-up truck. It clanged on the rusted metal of the cargo bed, the sound echoing loudly through the quiet of the forest. Josh stooped to pick up the basket of kindling he had been working on, before hobbling across the dirt driveway and into his cabin. He had been very athletic in his youth, able to run laps for hours on end. He was still a strong man, which came in handy in his construction work, but he now walked with a limp and had a number of trick joints.
 
As he reached his front porch, a rustle in the undergrowth made him stop in his tracks. He was accustomed to the sounds of the forest; the songs of birds, the creaking of the tree limbs, even the distant howling of wolves in the night no longer spooked him. But this was something different. It wasn’t just the wind rustling the leaves, nor the sound of a deer bolting through the brush. A coyote? Maybe, but it would likely have been scared off by the clang of the axe. It was probably just a sluggish raccoon, full from a day of foraging ahead of its upcoming torpor. He shrugged it off and stepped inside, set his firewood down on the flagstone hearth and slid the heavy bolt across the front door.
 
Josh was always cautious with security. Just because he’d only ever seen a couple of bears in these parts, didn’t mean a hungry one couldn’t force its way through an open door. Plus, there was worse than bears in the outside world. He was sure to always lock the door behind him, and never left scraps of food in the garbage for fear of attracting dangerous wildlife. He positioned a couple of logs on the dying fire, poured a glass of whisky and settled down into his high-backed wooden chair with a book.
 
A few chapters later, darkness had surrounded his cabin. The fire was wavering, barely producing enough light for Josh to make out the words on the page right before his eyes. Sighing and admitting defeat, he tossed his book on the floor and knocked back the last of his drink. Picking up the whisky bottle and kicking off his boots, he climbed under the covers of his bed and drifted off to sleep, after a few more swigs of liquor.
Josh was snapped out of his dreams by a loud roaring sound. Not an animal, but the unmistakable roaring of a fire. Thick smoke was creeping into his bedroom, dark plumes rolling around the walls and ceiling. He spluttered, struggled out of bed and fell onto the floor. The cabin only had one door to the outside, meaning Josh had to make his way into the living room where he had been sitting in peace only hours before. Coughing against the ash and smoke, he rolled onto his belly and crawled forward, covering his mouth and eyes with his sleeve as best he could. The living room had been transformed into a fire riddled hell-hole. His chair entirely engulfed in flames, the dining table was alight and even patches of the carpet were burning with a ferocious intensity. Dragging himself across the floor, he saw broken glass strewn across the room. His front windows had been shattered, their clear shards now littering the floor. But something else caught his eye. The smashed remnants of a liquor bottle. With a rag clearly tucked into the bottleneck.
 
Covering his face he fumbled with the bolt, his fingers struggling to grip the searing hot metal and slide it sideways. Finally, he forced the catch back and flung himself into the door, crashing it open. He stumbled off the porch and collapsed onto the ground by his pick-up truck. Sucking in the cold air he gasped for breath, before a bone chilling sound filled his ears.
 
Laughter.
 
There was an auburn glow being cast by the blaze, filling the surrounding area with eerie dancing patterns, but Josh could only see trees, shadows and jagged illuminations as he squinted into the forest. His eyes finally fixed on a dark shape, barely discernible at first between the thick foliage. But as his vision adjusted to the shifting light, a face came into focus. The maniacal, grinning face of a man that Josh knew all too well. Mouth agape, eyes wide with intense hatred. Bellowing laughter escaping as his chest heaved deeply with every breath. It was Lenny MacDonald.
 
Josh remembered the last time he had seen Lenny. It was five years ago in a courtroom, as a judge read out a not-guilty verdict on a charge of vehicular manslaughter. Josh had been the defendant that day. Three months prior he had been involved in a traffic collision which left two people dead. Mary MacDonald and seven-year-old Hannah MacDonald… Lenny’s wife and daughter. Both drivers had gone through what they saw as green lights at an intersection and collided at high speed. Josh was lucky to escape with just a broken leg and bruised ribs. The official report found that a computer glitch had caused the traffic lights to incorrectly sync and show as green simultaneously, which was backed up by camera footage. Upon reviewing all the evidence, the judge deemed it a terrible accident, which Josh was not responsible for. Lenny didn’t see it that way. In court, he had to be held back by several policemen after he tried to lunge at Josh. Red-faced, wild-eyed and all but foaming at the mouth he had sworn revenge, remonstrating that Josh was responsible for killing his family.
 
A few weeks after the trial, Josh had found his car tyres slashed, with a brick through his windscreen. A couple of weeks later, pig’s blood was smeared across his apartment door in the night. Then came the series of phone calls. A recorded message repeating the same three words, “You will pay”. He tried the police, pleaded with them that it must have been MacDonald, but without any evidence linking Lenny to the crimes, there was nothing they could do.  
 
So, Josh ran. As far away from his old life as he could get. Gone were the city streets and studio apartment, in their place vast wilderness and his remote cabin. Gone was his corporate job with health benefits, in its place was back-breaking physical work. For four long years, he did enough to get by. Enough to not think about that terrible day, to not think about Mary and Hannah, to not think about the screaming maniac who had sworn revenge. The same maniac who now stood barely ten yards away in the middle of nowhere, with a wild grin on his face. And Josh’s axe in his hands.  
 
“I promised you” Lenny hissed, “I promised you that you would pay”.
 
Josh heaved himself off the ground. Legs shaking, he tried to remain calm and looked at Lenny. This was a far-cry from the man Josh had last seen all those years ago. His eyes were dark caverns against a pale face. His body looked shrivelled, hunched and beaten by years of self-loathing and pent-up anger. His hair was matted and untamed, and a wispy beard hung off his pointed chin, like dregs of seaweed clinging to a battered cliff face.  
 
“I didn’t kill your family” Josh started, trying to keep his composure, “It was an accident. You heard the report, there was a system glitch. I’m truly sorry for what happened. But it wasn’t my fault…”
 
“BULLSHIT!” Lenny screamed, interrupting Josh and stepping forward, “You should have stopped. I don’t care what that report said. It’s your fault they’re dead!!”
 
Lenny lunged forward, swinging the axe with a wild cry. Josh leapt backwards, barely dodging the attack. With his assailant off balance from heaving the cumbersome weapon, Josh flung himself at Lenny and bundled him to the floor. The two men struggled for position, both trying to pin the other down. Erratic punches were thrown without fully connecting, forearms were thrust into ribcages, knees and shins cracking into each other in a manic frenzy. Josh was stronger than Lenny, and certainly heavier, but the smaller man was driven by an intense desire for perceived revenge. He screamed, uttering guttural, primitive roars as the men desperately struggled.  
 
With a wild yell of his own, Josh finally managed to throw Lenny sideways, thudding him into the side of the rusted pick-up truck. Both stopped momentarily, panting for air as they stood hunched, covered in sweat, dirt and blood. Lenny appeared to become distracted, as he looked at the burning cabin. Plumes of smoke were coursing through the trees, the wooden structure nearly reduced to a bare skeleton as the fire continued to rage.
 
“Amazing what a bit of whisky and a lighter can do, isn’t it?” Lenny taunted, between shocks of maniacal laughter.   
 
Josh’s attention was elsewhere, namely trying to see where his axe had fallen after the scuffle. He saw it sticking out of a thicket, the rusty blade barely visible in the orange firelight. If he was fast enough, he would be able to grab it before his adversary knew what he was doing. He saw his chance and took it. As Lenny turned to fully face the blaze whilst restarting his cackling, Josh leapt to the side and grabbed the weapon.
 
“It’s over MacDonald!” he bellowed, holding the axe ready to strike. “Killing me was never going to solve anything. However you found me, whatever you did to get here, it was pointless. It was for nothing. I’m never going to forgive myself for what happened to your family. I already carry that guilt with me every day. But there was nothing I could have done to prevent their deaths. There was nothing anyone could have done…” His voice trailed off as he found himself sobbing.
 
He lowered the axe and sunk to his knees. The smoke-filled air had already made his eyes bleary, but the added blur of tears made his vision practically non-existent.
 
“It was my fault.”
 
 He whispered it at first, but then shouted with a fury, fuelled by years of guilt.

“IT WAS MY FAULT! I could have hit the brakes sooner. I saw their car, but I knew the light was green. I knew there would be evidence to show I was in the right. It was a split-second decision, but I could have avoided them. I just wanted a pay-out. I never thought anyone would die…”
 
For the second time in a matter of moments, Josh’s voice trailed off into sobs. He let the axe fall from his grip and drop to the floor. He was aware of Lenny now standing over him. From the corner of his eye through streaming tears, he saw the axe raised high into the night sky, Lenny’s arms trembling as they hoisted the heavy weapon skyward…
 
“Forgive me” Josh whispered. And closed his eyes.