The cabin hardly felt remote any more. It was harder to hide.
But there was no going back. A threshold had been passed. He knew something with certainty. Things would end badly.
The knock on his cabin door broke the mountain silence. He rose from his chair and answered. Four young women stood on the porch.
“Our truck broke down,” the tallest one said. “Do you have a phone we could use?”
He shook his head. “No phones up here.”
“Oh.” The woman frowned and shifted, looked at her friends. “Okay. Thanks anyway.” They turned to leave.
Years ago he never saw the humans this far out. Now they came in larger and louder groups invading from the lowlands. The cabin hardly felt remote any more. It was harder to hide.
From what? He didn’t know.
He no longer hiked to town to re-supply because each time there were more humans and each time he returned to the mountain a little more depressed. Now he only lived off what he could grow, forage, or kill.
He watched the women walk away.
“Wait,” he called.
They stopped an…