It was day 10, Jackson woke to a sharp breeze that sent a shiver down his spine. He opened his eyes and looked into a haze of gray and white fog that consumed his field of view. He needed to continue south and find something.. Anything. A house, road, town, he needed to get out of this god forsaken forest. He wished he’d never agreed to join his cousin Allen to go hunting with him in northern Ontario, maybe Allen would still be alive, maybe if Jackson had paid more attention he could have warned him about not getting too close to the edge. No, Jackson couldn’t have predicted how unstable the edge was, even a trained professional would have likely undermined the danger of that cliff, nobody could have predicted the avalanche that would take his life. Jackson remembered Allen's face the fear that had possessed his light blue eyes as he was consumed by thousands of pounds of rock and dirt. It was the most horrific thing he’d ever seen. Allen was only 25, and now Jackson a 16 year old had to get out of here alone, with no map, no phone, no compass, no knowledge of the geography. The first three days he spent sitting there like an idiot wasting away his food and water not knowing what to do. He knew there was a large town to the south but god knows how far of a walk it is, would he even have enough supplies to make it? Would he die of dehydration and or starvation? These thoughts raced through Jacksons mind at a million miles an hour. Jackson sighed and began walking through the dense pine trees that seemed to stretch on wards.
As hours turn into days, Jacksons water and food began to run low so didn’t his faith of surviving the week. Jackson didn’t know how to survive in the wilderness this was Allen’s job, he was going to teach Jackson to survive but instead Allens dead and Jacksons probably next. Then of sheer luck he heard a honk, like that of a car. Allen began running toward the sound, and then he stumbled into a clearing..