You had been tinkering with your gear all morning. It was just another Saturday, a typical DIY project with your solar panel, wires, and some electronic components. After loading your bag with everything you'd need to keep your projects going, you stepped outside for some fresh air. As you hit your vape, the world seemed to blur. A strange sensation washed over you—an intense, dizzying pull, and in a blink, everything went white.
When the light faded, you found yourself standing in an unfamiliar landscape. The modern world had vanished. Gone were the familiar hum of cars, power lines, and buildings. Instead, dense forests stretched around you, with the air sharp and earthy in a way you'd never experienced before.
Disoriented, you scanned your surroundings. "Where the hell am I?" you muttered, feeling your heart race. Panic crept in slowly. You looked down and saw your backpack. It was the same bag you had just packed in 2024, still heavy with your solar panel, PWM controller, wires, soldering iron, dead 12V battery, and the few charged 18650s. Everything in your bag had made the trip with you. But... where were you?
The air felt ancient. The trees were untouched by modern life, taller and more imposing than any you'd seen before. The Ohio River, faintly visible in the distance, seemed cleaner, untainted by industrial pollution. Something wasn't right. It wasn't just that you were lost—you felt like you were out of place in time.
As the adrenaline pumped through your veins, you tried to shake off the disorientation. "Stay calm," you told yourself. But deep down, panic gnawed at you. You knew Evansville, and this wasn't the Evansville you knew. You needed to find someone—anyone.
You began walking, pushing through the underbrush, the sound of twigs snapping underfoot. The deeper you went, the more the world around you screamed of another era. There were no trails, no sounds of civilization. Hours passed, and just when you began to feel the weight of dread, you stumbled upon something: the remnants of a crude dirt path.
Following the path, you found a small settlement. A cluster of log cabins stood near the riverbank. Smoke rose from chimneys. But this wasn't any kind of modern re-enactment. The people wore simple homespun clothes—no polyester, no denim—just wool, linen, and leather. It felt like you had stepped into a history book.
"1810?" The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. Based on the settlement's primitive nature, this could be early 19th century, when Evansville had barely been settled. The thought made you feel sick. **You weren't lost. You were *stuck*—in the past.**
As your mind raced, you caught the gaze of two men working near one of the cabins. They stopped, staring at you with bewilderment. You could tell by their cautious expressions that you were a complete anomaly in your modern clothes.
"Who are you?" one of the men called out, his hand resting cautiously on a musket by his side.
You froze. How do you even begin to explain this? "I'm... uh..." Words failed you. "Lost," you finally said, forcing calm into your voice. But it was clear you didn't belong.
They whispered to each other before one of them motioned you over. As you approached, you could feel your pulse in your ears. You were completely out of your element, and the reality of being in the year 1810 sank deeper into your bones. These people had no idea who you were or where you came from, and trying to explain your situation seemed impossible.
"Come," the man said, gesturing toward the cabins. "You look like you could use some water."
Thankful for the small kindness, you followed. You sat by the fire as they handed you a cup of water from a wooden bucket. You couldn't help but feel their curious eyes on you as you sipped.
"What's your name?" asked one of the settlers, a rough-looking man with a weathered face.
"Caleb," you answered, forcing a weak smile.
The settlers, clearly perplexed by your strange attire and bag of unknown gadgets, continued to ask questions. You decided to give as little away as possible, sticking to vague answers. But they weren't hostile, just wary. You were clearly a mystery to them, and in this time, mysteries weren't always well-received.
The hours passed awkwardly, and as dusk settled, they allowed you to set up a makeshift camp just outside their settlement. But sleep didn't come easily. You lay awake, staring at the starry sky, the distant sounds of animals unfamiliar to your modern ears. Your mind was racing with questions—how the hell did this happen, and more importantly, *why*?
**The Next Day – Reality Hits**
Morning brought no answers. If anything, the strange calm of the settlement made everything feel more surreal. You could see people going about their daily routines—collecting water, chopping wood, preparing breakfast. It was a world that worked without the need for electricity, for modern convenience. It was raw survival.
The more time passed, the more your panic simmered just beneath the surface. The vape in your bag felt like a small comfort, something tethering you to the life you knew, but you couldn't bring yourself to use it openly. The settlers were already suspicious enough without you puffing clouds of vapor from some mysterious box.
Instead, you kept busy trying to make sense of your situation. Your gear was a strange comfort—you still had your DIY components, the solar panel, the dead battery, but with no immediate way to recharge the things that mattered. It didn't help that your 18650s were running low too.
That evening, as you tinkered with your electronics by the fading campfire, the settlement's leader, Samuel, approached you. "What kind of things you got in that bag of yours, Caleb?"
"Uh, tools mostly. For working with metal and... energy," you said awkwardly, knowing that explaining electricity would be impossible.
Samuel studied you for a long moment, nodding slowly. "We've never seen anything like what you carry." He sat down beside you, his face serious. "This land... it ain't just us here. Shawnee warriors roam these woods. If they see you with your strange things, they might not be so kind."
His words unsettled you. Of course, this area wasn't just home to early settlers—it was also Shawnee territory. You realized that beyond the immediate challenge of survival, there were cultural tensions you were unfamiliar with. You were not just a stranger in time; you were a potential threat.
**The Shawnee Encounter**
A few days later, while you were out gathering wood near the edge of the settlement, the world around you went quiet. Too quiet. You stood still, instinctively gripping the strap of your backpack tighter. Then, emerging from the dense forest, three figures appeared—Shawnee men, their faces stern and unreadable.
You felt your heart race. Samuel's warning echoed in your mind.
One of them spoke in a language you didn't understand, his hand motioning to the strange things hanging from your belt—your solar panel, a bundle of wires, your vape still tucked away.
Trying to appear non-threatening, you slowly raised your hands. "I mean no harm," you said, though you doubted they understood. Their eyes narrowed as they circled you, assessing the strange foreigner who carried the tools of another time.
One of the men reached for your bag, pulling out the solar panel. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he said something to the others. You could feel the tension thickening as they examined the alien objects.
But instead of taking your things or harming you, the leader pointed toward the horizon—back toward the settlement. They weren't interested in your things. They wanted you gone.
You nodded quickly, relieved that the encounter hadn't escalated further. As you backed away slowly, you realized just how delicate your situation was. Not only were you out of place in time, but you were also in a land where even the settlers were outsiders, and tensions between cultures ran deep.
**A New Survival**
In the days that followed, you worked harder to blend in, keeping a low profile and rationing the limited supplies in your bag. Your vape stayed untouched, the small comfort now a reminder of the world you might never return to.
You focused on small projects to keep your mind occupied, experimenting with your solar panel whenever there was sun, and offering your knowledge to the settlers in subtle ways. The tools you had might be useless here in the long run, but they gave you something to do. And as the days stretched on, you realized that surviving wasn't just about adapting to the land—it was about navigating the people, the cultures, and the unknown dangers of a time that was far harsher than the one you knew.
You didn't know if you'd ever find a way back to 2024, but for now, you were making the best of the life you'd been thrown into.