Hostage

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


When I emerged from the broken tent, the wind had calmed, but it was still cold at that elevation. I didn’t know what had happened to the others, only that our plan had gone to hell.

 

I’d stolen a hiking pack as I left the house, hoping it had food, but found only a bit of chewing tobacco among the gear. 

 

The night before, as we ran coughing from the smoky kitchen, Rosie flashed some silver keys. But in my panic, I’d sprinted straight back into the trees while the others ran across the drive toward the truck. From the dark pines, I climbed over the rocks and found a trail. Behind me, voices cried out, and men yelled, but the truck remained quiet. Nobody seemed to notice that I was gone.

 

In the morning, I sat alone with a soft, teal blanket draped over my shoulders, listening to the trill of small birds. It was my first day of freedom in the four months since being kidnapped. I gazed out over the mountains, and down at the sharp rocks that framed the yellow-green valley. 

 

Then a whistle sounded, and I knew it was to direct the group below, the khaki-uniformed men tromping out of the lower trees. They were pacing, assessing which route to take among the maze of narrow paths that led upward.

 

The birds fell silent, and I knew I had to move. I tied the blanket around my waist, covering my red leggings, and crept back among the shrubs. The ridge led north, and with luck, I’d be able to descend to the river and follow it to a town. I spit out a gush of tobacco juice, and I ran.


 


Submitted: June 23, 2021

© Copyright 2021 M.M.Corrigan. All rights reserved.

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