Day eighty-seven has arrived.
The harsh winter at the Chilco Lakefront has mercilessly demonstrated its power.
Several days of overcast weather and snowfall have made the whole world seem dark and oppressive.
Outside Clay Jenkins' cabin shelter, the stinging net in which he once had high hopes has yielded no harvest for three days.
Today, even the net that had performed heroically for him is thoroughly frozen by the lakeside. He has completely lost a source of food supply.
For now, he can barely fish, but as the bait sinks into the freezing lake water, not a single tremor is felt.
His supply of venison jerky is down to the last few pieces, and the smoked fish is also nearly depleted.
Yet this is not the worst of it.
What is more terrifying is the mental exhaustion and the magnified sense of loneliness, along with the longing for family.
