Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Marcus set out in the general location of his snares when a distinct sound, extremely faint but familiar, caught his attention. There were many sounds out here, the ice moving, animals, things freezing then breaking loose and the wind. This was different though, and if he were a dog, his ears would be standing straight up.
He had unconsciously brought out his .50 caliber revolver, his main tool for personal defense. Just the concussion from the monster handgun sent the largest bears running for nearly a mile, it was that loud and powerful. The bullets were so big that it could only hold five rounds, but those rounds really made an impact when they went off and more of one when they landed. It always reminded him of one of the snub-nosed .38s so prevalent in classic cop shows, only this one had been fluff-dried and fed horse steroids.
He listened intently, but there were no more sounds. He knew it was not his imagination and that it was not a natural sound. However, as remote as this place was, there were still people about, at times. He generally got close enough to discover why they were there, then melted away without them becoming wise to his presence. He moved on, though once his senses were piqued, they didn't settle down right away. He felt uneasy.
Moving along the interior of the shore, below the sight line of land, he took care to keep his head below the shoreline to avoid being seen while he was distracted locating traps. He had set several snares for the critter that had been leaving footprints in the area over the last week; he wasn't much for identifying animals by their tracks, but this looked edible.
The first snare was empty, with no new tracks anywhere, and he was setting out to check the next one when something in the sky caught his eye. It looked like a malformed and quick-moving cloud, at first, then he could see it was nearly black and swirling around and in on itself. Like a mushroom, he thought, and it hit him like a boulder was just dropped on his head... it was an explosion.
“But what in hell is out here that could explode?” he pondered aloud. There was literally nothing out here, no volcanoes no industrial sites... as his mind went over the possibilities it was stopped in mental mid-sentence: ...no oil refineries... no... the old oil station! That was it, he knew there were people using it again, he'd been close enough to see them moving in and scuttling about, though he kept his distance and left them to their research.
That looks really bad... he thought, looking at the puff of smoke. Then a twinge of responsibility and guilt, two recent traits he must have developed up here, made his path from this point pretty obvious to him. He would at least go check and make sure they weren't running around with their heads on fire. The need to help those in real trouble had always been a contradiction in his personality.
The ability and desire to hurt people was so strong, yet so was the need to help those who were hurting; not those that he had hurt, of course, but those that didn't deserve it, at that particular point in time, as he saw it.
Marcus took a glance out over the sea ice, knowing he would miss his chance to hunt a seal today. Although, he had to admit, it had been a while since he'd even seen another human being. It might be interesting to have a look. It was most likely some green horn that had just blown up a propane stove or heater and was now missing some eyebrows or a patch of hair. If nothing else, maybe he would see something to laugh about later.