SURVIVING ABE: A Climate-Fiction Novel Read Online Free
Author: J.Z. O'Brien
radiating from the pavement of the east Texas farm road made it difficult to breathe, difficult to stay hydrated too. His sweat dripped off , impervious to cooling from evaporation. Worthless, just like he would be if he didn't find shade soon.
Long-distance bicycle trekking, in the extreme heat of the last two days, had Andy feeling hollow and light-headed. Knowing the heat and humidity were combining to make it impossible for his body to maintain a safe temperature, he realized he needed to find water and a shaded place to cool down. The low hills ahead, with its grove of trees, became his immediate goal.
With his legs pedaling at a practiced cadence, Andy put his head down for less aerodynamic drag on his waning energy, and continued grinding his way toward shade and its implied coolness. His mind sought distraction from his growing physical discomfort and found solace down a well-trodden lane of memory; reexamining how he came to be here, and if continuing made any sense.
An idea to help brick-and-mortar stores marke t their products online had become a moneymaker for Andy and his business partner, George . Both of them made a nice living for a decade as a result. Then George, and a very supportive wholesaler, decided their vision of the future didn’t include a three-way partnership. So it was decided that Andy would be eased out of the company with a stack of freedom chips. Most he fed to his retirement account, the rest he cashed-in for a year's worth of frugal living without working. He seized the opportunity to spend part of his year-of-freedom pedaling a bicycle across the U.S. from Seattle to Key West ; he needed a physical goal after spending too much of his life sitting at a desk tied to a computer.
Early spring —when it had all started—Andy walked along an Olympic Peninsula beach considering how much his part of the business was worth, and if he really wanted to sell. The walk’s modus operandi that day had been to avoid even the proximity of another human, and to come to a decision he could live with, even when he looked back on it in the years to come. A solitary stroll with uninterrupted time to make a final decision ; that was what he needed. It didn't happen.
Andy ducked when a thrown stick barely missed him, gouging a fair sized divot in the sand where it landed. Andy whipped around in the direction from which it came . . . nothing. When a noise from above caused Andy to look up, he saw a woman on top of an eroding bluff franticly trying to get his attention. Just below her, someone was spread-eagled, holding onto the sloughing dirt-and-rock bluff, situated high enough above the beach to make any landing "iffy" should a fall occur .
Resembling sand passing through an hourglass a mini landslide, just below the person, gave evidence the situation was becoming more precarious by the moment. Just to the left of the person a vein of sturdier rock jutted out from the unstable rock and dirt that made up the majority of the bluff. It looked climbable from the beach, so Andy ran for it, picking up a long piece of driftwood on the way.
Andy made i t up the rock formation to a point level with, but separated by about ten horizontal feet from, a man he now guessed to be the husband of the woman above. The middle-aged man looked at Andy with surprisingly calm eyes, but didn’t say anything. More familiar with talking to computers than people, Andy opted for the "search function" by asking the man if he had any solutions to offer .
The man asked Andy to climb as high above him as possible, while still being able to reach him with the piece of driftwood Andy still held. Doing what he asked only took Andy a moment. He then asked if Andy had stable footing and a strong grip on the driftwood . Andy readied himself and said, "Yes."
Without hesitation, the man jumped for the rocks just below Andy, using the pendulum motion of the stick to extend his leap enough to
Long-distance bicycle trekking, in the extreme heat of the last two days, had Andy feeling hollow and light-headed. Knowing the heat and humidity were combining to make it impossible for his body to maintain a safe temperature, he realized he needed to find water and a shaded place to cool down. The low hills ahead, with its grove of trees, became his immediate goal.
With his legs pedaling at a practiced cadence, Andy put his head down for less aerodynamic drag on his waning energy, and continued grinding his way toward shade and its implied coolness. His mind sought distraction from his growing physical discomfort and found solace down a well-trodden lane of memory; reexamining how he came to be here, and if continuing made any sense.
An idea to help brick-and-mortar stores marke t their products online had become a moneymaker for Andy and his business partner, George . Both of them made a nice living for a decade as a result. Then George, and a very supportive wholesaler, decided their vision of the future didn’t include a three-way partnership. So it was decided that Andy would be eased out of the company with a stack of freedom chips. Most he fed to his retirement account, the rest he cashed-in for a year's worth of frugal living without working. He seized the opportunity to spend part of his year-of-freedom pedaling a bicycle across the U.S. from Seattle to Key West ; he needed a physical goal after spending too much of his life sitting at a desk tied to a computer.
Early spring —when it had all started—Andy walked along an Olympic Peninsula beach considering how much his part of the business was worth, and if he really wanted to sell. The walk’s modus operandi that day had been to avoid even the proximity of another human, and to come to a decision he could live with, even when he looked back on it in the years to come. A solitary stroll with uninterrupted time to make a final decision ; that was what he needed. It didn't happen.
Andy ducked when a thrown stick barely missed him, gouging a fair sized divot in the sand where it landed. Andy whipped around in the direction from which it came . . . nothing. When a noise from above caused Andy to look up, he saw a woman on top of an eroding bluff franticly trying to get his attention. Just below her, someone was spread-eagled, holding onto the sloughing dirt-and-rock bluff, situated high enough above the beach to make any landing "iffy" should a fall occur .
Resembling sand passing through an hourglass a mini landslide, just below the person, gave evidence the situation was becoming more precarious by the moment. Just to the left of the person a vein of sturdier rock jutted out from the unstable rock and dirt that made up the majority of the bluff. It looked climbable from the beach, so Andy ran for it, picking up a long piece of driftwood on the way.
Andy made i t up the rock formation to a point level with, but separated by about ten horizontal feet from, a man he now guessed to be the husband of the woman above. The middle-aged man looked at Andy with surprisingly calm eyes, but didn’t say anything. More familiar with talking to computers than people, Andy opted for the "search function" by asking the man if he had any solutions to offer .
The man asked Andy to climb as high above him as possible, while still being able to reach him with the piece of driftwood Andy still held. Doing what he asked only took Andy a moment. He then asked if Andy had stable footing and a strong grip on the driftwood . Andy readied himself and said, "Yes."
Without hesitation, the man jumped for the rocks just below Andy, using the pendulum motion of the stick to extend his leap enough to
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