The wind howls around the corners and eaves of the old log cabin, wailing like a Banshee looking for its prey. The snow banks have already reached the windowsills. Winter was in full swing, the world outside the frosted glass was frozen tightly in a realm of ice and snow….if only the world could stay that way. Spring was impending, now only a month away, approaching closer each day like the coming of the footsteps of doom; for with the melting of the snow and the last dampness before the spring, will surly come the final days of the human race. There are not many people left now, how many in the world?

Not many…I know that.

I use to come to this cabin in my youth during those long gone hazy days of summer, so long ago now, but with the end before me I find my memories of that time are as clear and as sharp as if they happened yesterday. My sisters and I, hiking, kayaking, roasting marshmallows, mum baking bread in the camp oven, dad proudly holding up his catch from the day’s fishing. Fun times, good times, an enjoyment and innocent love for the outdoors, but that innocence was now gone as were my family, as were so many families.

Strange to think that the end of the world began on a Sunday, and in of all places Siberia. The Mammoth Virus it was called, locked away for over ten thousand years, then foolishly released by the stupidity of mankind’s lack of foresight.

But the end really began in 1945 with the detonation of the first atomic bomb on the proving grounds of Los Alamos, an explosion that gave birth to the nuclear age. For since that day over two thousand atomic detonations have taken place on the ground, beneath it, in the ocean and in the sky. All that radioactive fallout released into the atmosphere that punched a hole in the ozone layer, add to that the dumping of radioactive material in the oceans and arctic regions of the earth, the scuttling of nuclear powered submarines as well as the explosions at Chernobyl and Fukushima. For fifty years it compounded the situation as the holes in the atmosphere got larger and the heat of the sun beating down upon the poles; where the years of unthinking dumping had slowly melted away the heavy metals in the ice, so that when the heat of the sun hit the ice it was not reflected back up. Temperatures rose and the ice faded away. And so it was with the melting, in Siberia, a frozen corpse of an adult mammoth was thawed out.

The flesh still sagging upon its bones, the remains of daffodils still in its trunk and stomach, the creature having died sometime during the ice age – snapped frozen by some sudden catastrophic event, so abruptly the animal was still grazing. And although mammoth remains have been found before, the most famous being in the 1960s, but what made this find unique was that the blood of this mammoth, although congealed, was still present, and of course technology had advanced so much since the psychedelic age. The thought of cloning was suddenly a viable option and put firmly on the centre of the table. But unbeknown to anyone, frozen within the blood was a disease, the likes of which having not been seen upon the earth for over ten thousand years.

Long extinct but now set free with the thawing of the ice.

The Mammoth Virus spread quickly.

It was unheard of, there was no immunity within the human race, for there hadn’t been any contact with this virus. There was a mad scramble for a cure, but none was forthcoming. It spread like wild fire, burning all before it, billions died, society broke down, and wars broke out. Nothing it seemed could stop it…except the cold.

The virus could not thrive in frozen conditions. But by the time this was known it was too late. There were some efforts to move populations to frozen areas but the infrastructure was gone along with most of the population of the world. I was one of the lucky ones I suppose, having survived long enough to reach this cabin just as winter came, but knowing all along that with the coming of spring the enemy will return.

My time is limited; death stalks the land beyond the cold.

I’m resigned to my fate;

Regrets? A few, but not many.

My life has been a good one.

I will extend it by moving further up into the higher regions of the mountains where the winter will last longer. I will commence that journey in a couple of weeks; although I have enough supplies whether I survive the trek is another matter altogether. My physical condition is not the best. Still if I can hold on perhaps once the snow has gone the virus may have burned itself out, perhaps isolation will be my saviour…or perhaps not.

Perhaps another ice age is what it will take.

The coming of the spring shall tell the tale.

For me and for those still left alive in the world.

Copyright Peter Jessop © 2016