Night was falling and Mark found a large old oak tree growing on a boulder strewn
embankment. He had as clear of a view as he could hope for, and at least a few avenues of
quick escape should he need to.He examined his resources from the bag he carried when he
jumped off the boat. At least four clips of ammo in the bag , one in his pocket, protein bars,
small binoculars, useless cell phone, small digital camera, matches , and the ever present
swiss army knife. Mark started to laugh and just as quickly started to cry. " C'mon ,C'mon, get
a hold of yourself, stay together damn." He knew he had blown the hero bit. He had told Betty
it would be all right . It wasn't , and by now it was more than likely getting worse. Mark
wondered what it would be like , being a pig. He thought of Brenda again . Mark knew he was
no hero . Knew he loved his own ass too much, and knew he did not want to be a sow. In the
morning he would try the boat again , if it was still there. He had plenty of bullets , and
would take out as many boars as he could before he turned that gun on himself. That was for
the morning . tonight he watched the woods come alive with strange lights , sound and
movement. Mark had never believed in elves and fairies, but that night he was enlightened in
so many things.