Fiction Books About Survival In The Wilderness の小説・ストーリー

I asked. “Actually, you can come with me if you want. Can I ask you something?” “Sure?” “What were you doing in the woods?” She asked with concern. “I’ve been lost for days. I was doing nothing but trying to survive the wilderness and I finally got a parasite from drinking from a stream.” I explained. It wasn’t really a lie but I can’t tell her that I escaped this prison that treated prisoners like shit!

The force of gravity in the room seemed to suddenly increase, threatening to drag her to the floor. Get over it. You knew damn well this was going to happen. Just . . . move on. She looked over her shoulder to finally take in the rest of the space. Her father’s bed lay inside one of the corners, the mattress a size too small for a man of his height and covered with the same camo blanket that rested on her own. A large bookcase lined one wall, its contents a hodgepodge of classic and paranoid—“Survivalist,” Emma corrected herself—literature. She scanned the titles. Finding Tom Sawyer and The Anarchist’s Cookbook resting beside each other conjured demented scenes of the scamp lobbing improvise

“We were running from some cyborgs who’d discovered our camp. There were at least fifty of us and only three of them. They were quick with their killing and capturing, but I managed to slip away along with a half-dozen others. We stumbled upon a tunnel and decided to see where it led to. The deeper we went, the darker it got and the more frightened we became. We’d abandoned our camp without packing up, so we had no food or water with us. After days of wandering in the darkness of the tunnels, I overheard them whispering about killing me. They wanted to drink my blood to compensate for the lack of fluids and use my body for food. Over the years with them, I’d witnessed them eating a pe

He claimed the wilderness was full of vicious Rogues and that he feared for my safety. But the fresh, high-quality prey he sometimes brought back couldn't possibly have come from this outer part of the wilderness. I used to feel sorry for him, for all his hard work, and even offered to hunt with him. But he told me that the deep woods were filled with out-of-control Rogues and rabid beasts. The trap with the rabid bear had left me so terrified that I clung to his every word. Now, any rustle in the woods makes me flinch and instinctively cry out his name.

Content Warning: This chapter contains scenes of physical violence and attempted sexual assault. Reader discretion is advised. It had been three days since the guards threw me into the woods per Hannah’s orders. I had been managing by foraging for berries and roots, praying I hadn’t eaten anything poisonous. I was lost, wandering aimlessly in circles. It was only a matter of time before a wild animal found me, or I died from starvation, dehydration, or hypothermia. Whichever came first.

Not even after death. Ten years in the apocalypse were brutal. Surviving alone was hard, but running from an obsessed brother with powers was another kind of hell. Vera learned to sleep lightly, hide her tracks, lie with a straight face, fight dirty, and leave before anyone could decide she was useful enough to trap. She killed zombies, mutants, mutated animals, and people who had stopped being better than the dead. She survived heat, cold, hunger, poison rain, infected wounds, broken shelters, and nights when she had to stay awake because the scratching outside the walls did not stop.

“The electromagnetic disturbances increase, the further we are from the coast he explained and looked into the dense, impenetrable green of the Jungle. “Silas’ Pad will perhaps show us the rough direction, but for the Navigation in the thicket is blind. We are going on the old ways of wilderness must be abandoned.’ I nodded. Lessons in Survival We Are In The Ashes of Ouroboros had worked hard, had passed deep into flesh and blood. ‘The Moos here, paradoxically, always grows on the side of the tribes, permanent west wind turned away,” I said and dashed over the damp bark of the light giant. “And we have the sun. We will not walk around.” We left our armoured camp without looking again. The ma

It’s fourteen days of looking over your shoulder at every snapping twig. I should have been enjoying the view, but every shadow looked like Madeline. I still didn't know who dragged me out of that closet. Was it some mysterious guardian? Or was it Madeline, saving me just so she could kill me later in a more twisted game? The neutral zones were crawling with scavengers and rogues. Without a Don’s law, it was every man for himself. The two hikers, Chloe and Annie, had been a godsend. They were Vega Syndicate runaways, though they didn't say it outright. They gave me clothes, shared their protein bars, and didn't ask why a soot-covered man was wandering the wilderness.

His gold eyes were soft. Luan stepped down from the log. They spent the morning building. Holt knew how to set snares. Sparrow knew how to treat wounds. Pike knew the woods better than anyone, every stream and ridge and hidden hollow. Luan assigned tasks not because she was in charge, but because she was listening. The turned wolves were not soldiers. They were survivors. They had been fighting their whole lives just to exist. Now they were fighting for something else. By midday, a fire was burning. Meat was roasting. Wolves who had not spoken in years were telling stories.

I had no idea how to survive in the wilderness because the closest I'd ever come to camping was watching movies, but I couldn't go back to civilization and I couldn't stay in one place. I had to keep moving east and hope I figured out how to stay alive along the way. The first day was the hardest because everything still felt raw and impossible and I kept expecting to wake up from a nightmare and find Mom making breakfast in our kitchen like she did every morning. But I didn't wake up and Mom wasn't making breakfast and I was stumbling through a forest I didn't recognize with nothing but a mysterious diary and the clothes on my back. My stomach started cramping with hunger by midday and my m