How Did Hunters And Gatherers Survive In Ancient Times?

An apocalypse driven by natural disasters. Survival of the fittest. Typhoons, floods, deadly cold, scorching heat, earthquakes, tsunamis, insect plagues, acid rain… After struggling through three years of the apocalypse, Nicole Floyd met a brutal death. Miraculously, she woke up and found herself three days before it all began. Nicole seized the advantage to reclaim her storage space, flipping the switch on full-on stockpiling mode. She shopped until she ran out of money, and her storage was packed tight. She also looked for the dog that had saved her life once before. She sharpened her knives, stacked her supplies, and took care of unfinished business. She paid back every debt, whether owed in blood or in kindness. And then, disaster struck. Her right hand gripping a knife and her left stroking the dog, Nicole pressed on through the ruins of a world without order or morals.

"Little bunny, little bunny. Wolf is HUNGRY!" The voice taunted me, followed by an evil cackle. * "Run, rabbit. RUN!" A monstrous bellow boomed through the night sky and crashed into my soul like a sledgehammer. I could feel a chill sweeping across my body and my heart pounding in my chest. The echoes of howls and laughter followed me from behind as I ran for my life. ** Elisabeth's life had been harder than most since she was a child--a distant and often cruel mother and her never-ending cycle of addiction that had taken over her life. But on this fateful night, something far more sinister was lurking in the darkness, ready to take her away from it all. Massive figures appeared out of nowhere, growling and taunting her. She tried to scream, but nothing would come out; before she knew it, she was waking up in a world where Viking werewolves ruled with mysterious faeries at their side. Every five years, they traveled to the human realm, collecting ten girls for their mate run--and tonight, Elisabeth was one of them. With only a white dress and her bare feet, Elisabeth stood beside the other nine girls as the beasts prowled around them menacingly. A silver dagger pierced each of our wrists, signaling the start of the hunt! “We honor the moon goddess; let your blood lead your mate to you!”

The entire company was on a team-building trip when a storm decided to crash our party and wash us ashore on an abandoned island. I was a survival expert, but everyone insulted me and left me behind. My boyfriend's secretary, a self-proclaimed Elf Queen who had the power to commune with nature, held my hand and asked me to stay. Her eyes were red rimmed as she begged, "You barely have the skills to survive in the wild, Ms. Titania. Going alone is risky. I can't let that happen. Your safety's on the line here." I sneered and refused her invitation. Everyone called me an ungrateful bitch, but that didn't sway me at all. I walked right into the tropical forest, where pests and venomous creatures alike had set up homes. In my previous life, my colleagues blamed me for getting stranded on a deserted island. They blamed me because they thought I wanted some spice on our trip. I understood where they were coming from. It was only natural to be scared out of their damned minds now that they were stranded, so I didn't argue. I wanted to do my best and find enough food for us to live until rescue came. However, my boyfriend's secretary would announce the location before I could inform them of the food source I'd found, and her method was identical to the ideas that could only be found in my head. Then, she told everyone she was actually an Elf Queen who could communicate with nature, and it was all thanks to the critters and plants that she managed to find sustenance so quickly. I didn't buy that crap even for a second, so I picked up the pace and tried to get the food as fast as I could. Alas, that secretary would steal my credit every single time. My apparent redundancy and repeated questioning of the Elf Queen lit something underneath my colleagues, and they burned me with their fury. All of them pushed me to hell. Just as the last of my breath left my lungs, my eyes snapped open once more. I was back to the moment that the secretary proclaimed herself as the Elf Queen.

The Hunters. The legendary Archers of Alestari were known world wide. Many trained for years, from youth to adulthood, to be good enough to qualify to be an apprentice to the Hunters. Every year, the Hunters would travel all across the land of Alestari, searching for a single apprentice. Many hearts were crushed in this process. Because there were many years, that none were selected to train under the legendary Archers. They would travel to every kingdom, city, town, village and tribe, searching. Royalty and common folk alike revered and worshiped the Hunters, for they were the true protectors of the land. A single Hunter was as good as 20 regular Archers. But they were also known to be excellent spies, as well as swordsmen. Any weapon in the world, they knew how to use properly. Thus they were highly sought after for military purposes and occasionally mercenaries. To have a family member who was a Hunter, was the highest honor. They were treated like royalty, even by royals themselves. Whatever a Hunter said, whoever they chose as an apprentice, no one ever argued. To fight with a Hunters choice, was to eliminate any chances you had of your family becoming one. And for years, no one fought their decision. Until this year. In the kingdom of Alestari, anyone was eligible to try and become an apprentice. Anyone, but a woman. Women were forbidden to learn any kind of weaponry, especially archery. So when the King of the Hunters, chooses a woman to be an apprentice, many were angry. And they were out, to make her pay.

On a stormy night during the apocalypse, my own mother threw me out of the house while I was burning with fever, along with my husky, so my little brother would have a better chance of surviving. She shouted through the crack in the door, “Take that useless mutt and go die somewhere. Stop wasting your brother’s food!” I huddled in a pile of trash with my dog in my arms, convinced I was going to die. Then my husky suddenly spoke. “Host’s vital signs critically low. Infinite Supply Search System activated.” “Supermarket warehouse one hundred meters ahead. Three thousand freeze-dried meals detected.” “Pharmacy five hundred meters to the left. Five hundred boxes of antibiotics detected.” Three days later, I’d built a fortress with packs of dogs and mountains of supplies. I sat inside eating steak and watching the show. Outside the barbed wire, my mother and brother were on their knees, fighting each other over half a piece of moldy bread. I smiled. “Mom, even dogs wouldn’t eat that. Better savor it.”

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.