|
Flash fiction entry - The Good Samaritan
"You stupid bitch!" I recoiled at the words even though they weren't anything new. It was the force with which they were shouted at me across the field. I stumbled over a clump in the newly plowed earth, staggered and almost fell. It was as if the wind had caught his oath and slammed it into me as I was making my way to the property line. The clay soil coughed up a puff of dust as I pitched forward. My boots were already dusty from the other trips I'd made. There was no point in polishing them because the battle with the dirt couldn't be won on any level.
I was leaving again. Perhaps this time I'd get beyond the frontage road. Maybe I could catch a ride into town with someone if I got to the main road.
Who was I kidding? No one traveled over the road except for my in-laws. I needed to get to a phone and the nearest one was two miles away.
I heard the pickup motor start and I ran towards the willows. It was the only cover which wasn't behind barbed wire. The last time I'd tried to escape through the brush, he'd brought the cat and began pushing over the spindly trees until I came out of hiding. This time, the cat was in a field miles away from here.
The bush slapped at my face as saplings snapped against my legs. The tinder dry ground cover crackled and popped underfoot. I could hear the horn being blasted from the road as I pushed onward deeper into the woods. In my childhood I'd walked through the woods back home but the towering coastal forest with the soft springy peaty soil had been more comforting. This damn place had nothing forgiving about it.
I tripped over an anthill and went sprawling over the mound. I scrambled away from the armies of ants who rushed to defend their fortress. As I lay, winded, I could hear him approach. I knew he'd have the rifle and wondered if, this time, he'd make good on his promise.
The racket increased as he drew closer. His breathing was laboured from the exertion and the whisky he'd consumed. I heard a deep growl coming from deeper in the trees. It increased to a roar and willows were being tossed about as if a giant was in need of a toothpick. Then the brush melted away and a huge black shadow whizzed by me. The rifle cracked, there was a bellow of rage and an ungodly scream. Then, silence.
I lay quiet for several minutes and then gingerly made my way back towards the dirt road. The pickup was still parked there with the keys in the ignition. I hopped in and made my escape, never looking back.
[an:0a13196460]471 words[/an:0a13196460]
|