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Day eight in the new world.
A storm had raged for nearly the whole night and day, an unyielding torrent that transformed the once serene forest into a treacherous labyrinth of mud and debris. The relentless rain pounded the forest with a ferocity that seemed almost sentient, each drop a tiny hammer blow against her hope.
Despite using her painstakingly sewn pelt cape as an improvised umbrella, the rain continued its relentless assault. Each drop was like a needle of icy water, piercing through her already soaked clothing.
Her once-pristine architect get-up was now sodden and clinging to her like a second skin, each movement eliciting a squelch of water. The reflective vest, once vibrant and eye-catching, now hung in tatters around her shoulders, dulled by mud and rain. Her hair, usually neatly tied back, was plastered to her face, a tangled mess of raven-black strands dripping with rainwater. The yellow hard hat she wore, now scuffed and streaked with dirt, felt like a useless relic of a world that had all but disappeared.
The storm showed no signs of abating. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, a deep, guttural growl that reverberated through the forest like the warning call of a great beast. Lightning flashed intermittently, illuminating the dense foliage in stark, ghostly white, casting fleeting shadows that danced and flickered like restless spirits.
Ling Wei's campfire, her single source of warmth and comfort, lay in a smoldering heap, reduced to a pathetic pile of wet ashes. She had tried desperately to shield it from the downpour, fashioning a makeshift cover from some large leaves, but the torrential rain had been unrelenting. Now, the cold seeped into her bones, a penetrating chill that stole the strength from her limbs and made her teeth chatter uncontrollably. Her fingertips were numb, and she could barely feel her toes inside her waterlogged boots.
Her basic tools, usually so reliable and comforting, were rendered almost useless by the damp. The nails and screws in her construction belt had rusted slightly, their edges stained with the telltale orange of oxidation. The tape measure was warped, its retractable metal strip stubborn and uncooperative.
Even her notebook, filled with sketches and measurements, was a soggy mess of bleeding ink and crumpled pages. The once-precise lines and notes had dissolved into an indecipherable blur, leaving her feeling even more isolated from her previous life. if she knew this would end up in her precious notebook, she should have used it as fire kindling.
The food she had painstakingly smoked was now little more than a soggy pulp, her provisions ruined by the unceasing deluge. Ling Wei looked at the sad, disintegrating remnants of her berries and felt a pang of despair. Hunger plagued at her stomach, an insistent reminder of her rapidly deteriorating situation.
Her eyes stung with a mix of rain and unshed tears, the salt mixing with the cold water that streamed down her face. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying in vain to conserve what little body heat she had left.
As the night wore on, the forest around her seemed to come alive with the sounds of the storm. The wind howled through the trees, bending their trunks and causing branches to creak and snap. The rain drummed incessantly, a relentless cacophony that drowned out all other noise. Occasionally, the sharp crack of a falling tree echoed through the darkness, a stark warning of the storm's power. Each crash sent a jolt of adrenaline through Ling Wei's system, her senses heightened by the constant threat of danger.
The very next day, as soon as the endless rain stopped in mid-morning, Ling Wei, with no other option, began to wander, her footsteps heavy and unsure in the cold, muddy terrain. Her boots, caked in muck, squelched with every step, and her legs ached from the effort of trudging through the mire.
The reflective vest she wore had become more of a hindrance than a help, its tattered remains flapping uselessly against her shivering body. Her rabbit pelt cape, now soaked, hung heavily on her shoulders.
She was forced to abandon her temporary shelter beneath the two ancient trees. The roots that had once cradled her now threatened to become her grave as the ground around them softened and shifted dangerously.
Ling Wei's only guide was a small stream. But the continuous rain from the previous day and night had transformed the gentle brook into a churning, brown torrent. The stream, once a clear and docile, was now a raging small river, its waters swollen and turbulent. It roared with a ferocity that matched the storm above, churning with mud and debris, and was no longer safe to drink from or even dip a hand into.
Her appearance was a testament to her ordeal. Her face, streaked with mud, bore the marks of exhaustion and despair. Dark circles underscored her eyes, which were bloodshot from lack of sleep and constant exposure to the elements. Her hair, once neatly tied, now hung in wet, tangled clumps around her face. Her hands, chafed and raw from the cold and constant exposure, trembled as she pushed aside branches and foliage in her path.
She followed the river as best she could, hoping it would lead her to some semblance of civilization or at least a safer refuge. The ground was treacherous, slick with mud and littered with fallen branches and leaves. Each step was a struggle, her energy reserves depleted by hunger and cold. She slipped frequently, her knees and palms bearing the brunt of each fall, adding fresh bruises to her already battered body.
As she pressed on, her body moving almost mechanically, she noticed the signs of the storm's destruction all around her. Trees uprooted, their massive trunks lying across her path, forcing her to climb over or find a way around. The ground was littered with branches and leaves, creating an uneven and perilous terrain.
The cold was relentless, its icy fingers sapping her strength and making her movements sluggish. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, and each breath was a visible puff of steam in the frigid air. She had lost track of how long she had been wandering, the hours blurring into a continuous struggle for survival.
Hunger gnawed at her, a constant nudge of her need for sustenance. She had attempted to forage for food, but without her trusty smartphone—now waterlogged and useless from the rain—identifying the unfamiliar plants and gathering enough strength to search proved nearly impossible.
Ling Wei's once long and beautiful hair had become a tangled, muddy nuisance, clinging to her face and neck in matted strands. She knew it was time to make a drastic change, not just for practicality, but for survival.
With trembling hands, she reached for her construction utility knife, its blade still sharp despite the damp. She gathered her hair into sections, each one heavy with mud and water, and began to cut. The knife sliced through the thick strands with surprising ease, each severed lock falling to the ground like the remnants of her past life. she sheared her hair down to a manageable length. When she was done, she ran her fingers through the short, uneven crop
Her reflection, seen briefly in a puddle of rainwater, was startling. Ling Wei barely recognized the person staring back at her. The transformation was complete—she now resembled a teenage boy, a beggar lost in the wilderness, her once immaculate appearance reduced to a muddy, disheveled mess. Her clothes, tattered and stained, hung loosely from her frame, her boots covered in layers of muck, the high-visibility vest and pelts cape in rags.
As she trudged through the mud, her short hair no longer a hindrance, Ling Wei scanned the surroundings for anything that might offer protection. The trees, once majestic and towering, now seemed like potential hazards, their branches heavy with water and creaking ominously in the wind. The ground was treacherous, every step a gamble as she navigated the uneven terrain.
Hours passed, each one feeling like an eternity. The light began to fade, and with it, the temperature dropped even further. Ling Wei's breath came in visible puffs, her body shivering uncontrollably. She stumbled frequently, her strength waning with each passing moment. The hunger in her belly was a continual, haunting ache, but she pushed it aside, focusing instead on finding a safe place to rest.
Finally, she spotted a small outcropping of rocks, partially hidden by a thick curtain of vines. It wasn't much, but it would offer some protection from the cold wind. She made her way toward it, her steps slow and labored. Upon reaching the outcropping, she cleared away the vines and debris as best she could, creating a small, sheltered space just large enough to sit in.
Ling Wei collapsed against the cold stone, her body trembling with exhaustion. She drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them in a futile attempt to conserve warmth. The rain had long stopped, but the unkind cold night wind carried on to batter the forest. Beneath the rocky overhang, the wind's intensity was at least slightly reduced.
She closed her eyes, letting the sounds of the after storm lull her into a fitful rest.