chris trunk

The Heart of the world

I can’t help but wish for someone to talk to again. It’s been six years since I became the last person on earth, and all I want is someone to talk to, who would talk back at least. “We gotta find you some food.” I said, scratching Clover behind his ears. He pants and licks at my hand in response. As we walk through the empty city streets, I can’t help but laugh as Clover runs through the tall grass that has grown through the cracked asphalt. Labradors always were my favorite dogs, even as a child, and as Clover runs back to me, looking pleased with himself I can see the only white spot on his chest that earned him his name. I crouched down and scratched him again. “Come on, it’ll be dark soon and we need to find a place to stay.” I told him and stood. We started walking again, towards the tall cliff that over looked the city we just left. We hadn’t found any food, unfortunately, so I was hoping we could find a wild deer or some other animal in the field on the way to the cliff. Clover ran and jumped, playing in the grass as we walked. I laughed at him and kept an eye out for anything we could use, my pack thumping against my lower back with every step I take. I keep trying to steer my thoughts away from what things were like before it all ended, but I just wish I had another human to talk to or laugh with. I sigh and keep moving, shifting the hunting rifle I found in the city from one hand to the other. I stop and pull the bolt back halfway and look down at the shiny brass casing nestled in the chamber just to give myself something else to look at other than the sea of grass before me. Clover comes running back over to me and makes a deep noise in his throat, looking from me to the grass ahead and back. I drop low and seat the stock of the rifle against my right shoulder, looking through the scope. Clover has never let me down before; he only signals me when there is an animal nearby. Through the lens I could see an antelope about fifty yards ahead grazing in the grass. I smile to myself as I hit the safety switch on the trigger guard and take a deep breath. Thank God most of the animals in the zoos managed to escape when everything ended, otherwise Clover might have had to go hungry more often than not. I squeeze the trigger and feel the butt of the rifle hit my shoulder as the shot rings out in the quiet air around us. The antelope falls and I stand up, my ears ringing from the sound of the blast. Clover barks happily and I nod at him giving him the okay to run ahead and investigate his dinner. I slide the bolt back and watch as the empty bullet casing falls to the ground, making no noise as it hits the grass. I walk over to the antelope carcass and stop short, hearing Clover growl low in his throat. I look around and immediately spot the problem. There is a pack of three wild dogs standing around him and his prize, trying to get a piece of meat. Of course, I only have a few rounds left for the rifle and we run into predators. I grit my teeth point the rifle into the sky, firing off a shot hoping to spook the dogs. There’s another loud crack that echoes around us and all three dogs take a step back, but none run away. This is a problem; I need my remaining shots to hunt with or a to take care of a bigger threat, but none of the dogs are running. I sling the rifle and reach down to grab the knife on my belt when the biggest dog, a German Shepard, lunges forward. I shout and start to run forward as Clover attacks the other dog and the two go rolling through the grass, snapping and snarling at each other. I ran forward and tackled the third dog, a smaller mangy mixed breed, and stabbed it once through the heart before it could jump into the fight. I start to stand and a massive weight slams into my back, as the other dogs teeth snap closed next to my ear. Before I can move to get the dog off my back, its teeth sink into my shoulder. The scream I let out echoes through the air around me and I roll as hard as I can pinning the dog beneath me, causing it to let out a yelp. I jump up and swipe at the dog with my knife, slicing open is front leg. It lets out another yelp then turns and runs, tail tucked between its legs. I rotate my shoulder and the damage doesn’t seem too bad and I move towards where I last saw Clover. I smile as I approach and see he’s okay, only a few small cuts and the other dog dead behind him. “Good boy.” I tell him, scratching him behind the ears again. “Now let's get back to camp.” I bend, grab the antelope, and head to the cliff.