Jack

I will never tire of this scenery. Rising with the sun and watching it glow on the rugged mountainside is a beauty to behold. All my friends from my old world thought I’d never last in this secluded spot. But they don’t know what they’re missing, staying in their chaotic lives in the city. Being here on the porch of my cabin and out of the rat race fills me with a sense of tranquility.

Stepping back inside to begin my daily routine, I hear the signal that the coffee is ready. The fresh brew fills the air and I pour myself a steaming mug before settling down in my favorite armchair by the window. Grabbing my new novel from the side table that was delivered yesterday, I look over the cover. It’s red and black with touches of yellow in its title — a post-apocalyptic thriller. Science fiction used to be my thing, but I’ve taken to reading this genre lately. I wonder if it doesn’t make me feel justified in some way considering the secluded lifestyle I’ve chosen — as if I’ll be safe here in the mountains if the shit hits the fan.

I finish the first three chapters and the book is a page turner, as promised. Rising from my chair, I stretch my limbs and gather my gear for my morning hike. As I lace up my boots, I mentally map out the route I'll take today – one that will lead me through some dense forested areas, around the edge of a stream, and up the side of a steep ravine.

I step outside and begin my trek. The sounds of birdsong and rustling leaves fill my ears as I make my way along the trail. The soft ground beneath my feet dampens the sound of my steps, adding to the feeling of solitude that envelops me as I walk. I pause occasionally to observe a squirrel darting up a tree or to snap a photo of a particularly vibrant wildflower, reveling in the simple beauty that nature has to offer.

My friend, Mateo, who owns the local lumber mill, has introduced me to a small group of people who believe they will find Bigfoot in the area. And maybe they will. I admire their perseverance with the search and have helped on several occasions now with my best high-tech drone I designed.

As the hike comes to an end, I find myself back at the cabin, my body pleasantly tired from the exertion. I retreat to my workshop, where I've been tinkering on a personal project – a tiny custom-built drone designed for wildlife observation. The intricate process of assembling the small device demands my full attention, allowing me to forget, for a time, the loss that drove me to seek refuge in these mountains. It's moments like these, when I'm immersed in the peaceful solitude of my life. It’s where I feel most at ease.

My drone designs are what made me a multi-millionaire. And I believe the military will really like this new one I’m working on. Smaller than a hummingbird, but a little larger than a bumble bee, it will have capabilities for surveillance and reconnaissance. The main virtue is its size and stealthy nature. I’ve run into some frustrating moments with this prototype, mostly due to its minuscule structure. Hitting another road block, I decide to quit for a while and work off some frustration.

I retreat to the special area I designed in this cabin for keeping myself in shape. As I enter the space, the scent of sweat and iron fills my nose, and I feel my muscles begin to tense in anticipation. My eyes sweep over the room, taking in the array of weights and machines that line the walls.

I approach the squat rack, my hands gripping the barbell tightly as I prepare to lift. My muscles bulge with the effort, and I feel the strain of the weight as I push myself further, determined to build even more mass and strength.

The weights and machines are my place to build my body and force discipline upon myself. Here in the mountains with no need to show up for a job each day, one can quickly lose the everyday structure of life. And I’ve learned to keep busy to keep my depression at bay. A strong body equals a strong mind.

As I begin my routine, I can feel the familiar burn in my muscles that comes with pushing them to their limits. My thoughts drift back to my years in the tech industry, where I let myself get soft and out of shape. I was too focused on my work, too busy to take care of my body. But now, with each rep and each set, I am reclaiming my strength.

The sweat glistens on my skin as I push myself harder, the sound of my own breathing filling the room. The weight of the world seems to lift from my shoulders as I focus on the rhythmic movement of my muscles. It's just me and the weights, and for a moment, nothing else matters.

As I finish my final set, I feel a sense of accomplishment wash over me. I wipe the sweat from my brow and take a deep breath, reveling in the sensation of my body burning with the satisfaction of a good workout.

Living alone in this remote mountain oasis has been my way of coping – a chance to escape the constant reminders of what I've lost and attempt to rebuild the shattered pieces of my heart.

As the sun sets, I sit on my cabin's porch drinking a cold beer and scrolling through old photos on my phone. Images of my late fiancé, Emily. Her laughter, beautiful smile, and the way she would playfully toss her hair over her shoulder – all gone in an instant, taken from me by a careless driver who was too busy texting to notice the red light. The weight of the loss still sits heavily on my chest, constricting my breathing like an iron band. It's been nearly three years since the accident, but the pain is as fresh as ever.

 I’m fortunate. I sold two separate tech companies for enough money that I don’t worry too much about ever having a J-O-B. My task now is to just love what life I’ve got left here on this planet and cherish my solitude. Still, I often miss having a woman. My friend, Mateo, found a lovely young woman by accident. Maybe someday, I will as well. But I don’t see how if I hole away here all the time.

Suddenly, I hear the quiet roar of a vehicle coming up the mountain road. There are no residences beyond mine and I wonder who could be coming to pay me a visit. A white SUV pulls down the gravel drive. I stay seated for now, not recognizing the vehicle.

Out pops a young woman with fiery red hair -- the color intensified by the setting sun. "Hey!" she calls out, waving. "You, on the porch! We need to talk."

I stand, squinting into the fading sunlight at this curvy figured woman that has appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She stays close to her vehicle, hands on her hips and a determined look on her face. She's undeniably attractive, but it's her figure combined with that red hair that truly catches my attention.

"Who are you?" I ask, trying to maintain a neutral tone. "And what do you want?"

"I'm Chloe," she replies, stepping closer. "Are you Jack Stone?”

“I am.”

“I’m your new neighbor – well, for now. I've inherited 200 acres that I believe adjoin your land. My real estate agent put it up for sale two weeks ago and we already have someone ready to purchase it."

Her words echo in my mind, heralding the end of my peaceful existence.

"No fucking way!" I say loudly back to her.

But as I take in the sight of this feisty, independent woman, a small part of me wonders if there’s a way I can purchase the land. There might be an opportunity here – something worth fighting for.

She walks a little closer, unfazed by my rude outburst. "Well, it's not final yet. But the buyer does have it under contract now. It’s a developer."

My blood pressure rises and I almost roar at this woman, "Over my dead body!" She seems a bit intimidated as I begin walking toward her and she steps back toward her SUV.

“Look, I’m just trying to be courteous and let you know what’s going on with the land. I’m selling it.”

“To me, maybe,” I respond, continuing to walk toward her. Damn, she has a gorgeous face to match her voluptuous body.

Suddenly, she flings open the door on her vehicle, jumps in and starts it up. I watch as she puts it in reverse and backs down the drive. I’m surprised at how well she can drive backward and avoid hitting any of the trees lining the sides.

There is no way she can do this to me.