Mid‑August.
The helicopter's propeller roared, then receded into the distance. When Lin Yu'an unbuckled his harness and stepped onto needles and slick moss, a rush of mixed emotions hit him. Solid ground lay under his feet, ancient forest surrounded him, and above stretched the brooding sky of British Columbia.
He watched the chopper shrink into the horizon. That machine was his last tie to civilization. Now the challenge had begun. The air smelled of pine. Silence pressed in, broken only by distant bird calls and the wind rustling the conifers. Loneliness settled in.
This was the north shore of Lake Chilko, true wilderness. Snow‑topped peaks loomed in the distance and dense forest spread like a green ocean. Lin Yu'an was tiny in that vastness. He did not dwell on sentiment. Every decision from this point would affect survival and his shot at the one‑million‑dollar prize.
He inhaled the cold air and surveyed the drop zone. This was a subalpine conifer belt of gentle relief, dominated by Douglas fir, western hemlock, and some shorter black spruce. The forest floor was thick with needles and slippery with moss. A faint stream sound reached him- good news. Fresh water might be nearby.
He fixed the chest camera the team provided and held the spare. Calmly, he recorded his opening log. "This is Lin Yu'an. I've been dropped in the designated area. My priority is to find shelter and water."
He unpacked his chosen gear to show the camera: a high‑carbon multi‑purpose knife, a medium felling axe, a −30 °C goose‑down sleeping bag with waterproof shell, an oversized heavy‑duty tarp, a large magnesium flint and striker, a single‑handled stainless pot with lid, fishing tackle, high‑strength paracord, a bag of salt, and an American hunting bow with arrows.
He kept reserved supplies hidden in the container space: compressed rations, seasonings, special hooks and lines, medicines, several bottles of spirit, and a large‑caliber bear hunting pistol. Those were last‑resort items; he would not reveal them on camera or use them except in true desperation.
With a light pack he moved toward the water. The primeval forest made progress slow- tangled roots, slick stones, and thick undergrowth- but he covered ground steadily. After about thirty minutes a clear, icy stream appeared, fed by glacial melt from nearby peaks.
"We found water," he told the camera. "Quality looks excellent." He did not drink immediately. First he scanned the banks for tracks and signs of animal activity that might indicate food sources.
He walked upstream and selected a campsite on slightly higher ground, sheltered by a small rock face with open space before it and several fallen logs nearby. It offered wind protection, a place to anchor a shelter, and quick access to water. "This looks good," he said to the camera. "The rock face is a natural wall, fallen logs can be structural supports, and the higher ground will prevent flooding."
Shelter was priority. He took out his axe and worked precisely and efficiently. Because the geology prevented large excavation, he chose a sloped lean‑to built against the rock. He lashed thicker trunks to the rock face to form a sloping roof, secured them with paracord, and wove thinner branches and cut boughs into the side walls. He draped the heavy tarp over the frame and weighted it with rocks and branches for waterproofing. Inside he layered thick dry needles and fir boughs for insulation and moisture barrier.
By sunset a simple but sturdy shelter had taken shape. Lin Yu'an wiped his brow and smiled. "Okay. I have a home for tonight." Fatigue showed, but his voice was steady.
Fire was next. He gathered fine tinder- dry needles, small dead twigs, and birch bark- then struck bright sparks from the magnesium striker. A small flame caught quickly. He fed it carefully until a stable fire burned. Warmth chased the mountain chill away and brought a hard‑won sense of security.
He fetched water, set the stainless pot on the fire, and boiled it. The hot water warmed him through. It was late and he had expended much energy; hunting in unfamiliar terrain would be too risky that first night.
As darkness fell, Chilko Lake's wild side emerged. Temperatures plunged and unfamiliar sounds rolled through the trees- wind, distant calls, and the rustle of nocturnal animals. He banked the fire just enough to stay warm, crawled into his down bag, and kept the knife and axe within reach.
Lying there, listening to wind and animal calls, fear was subdued by duty. Images of his past life, his responsibilities in this one, Arya's gentle smile, and the twins in her belly coursed through his thoughts. He missed her already. He knew harder days and deeper solitude lay ahead.
He fell asleep with the cool cross pendant against his chest, a reminder of home.
Unknown to him, not far from camp a pair of eyes glinted faint green in the dark. They watched the flickering fire for a moment, then slipped silently back into the forest.