Thursday, August 18, 2016

[prose] Guns in the Night

I found myself with a few minutes yesterday afternoon while I waited for an appointment. I wrote it in a Moleskine the old fashioned way, with a pen. Quickly tonight I copied it over to the blog. It is presented with errors and as written. Ended up at roughly 1000 words.

William struggled with the rope binding his wrists. He grimaced as the old frayed rope bit into his flesh. He twisted and pulled again, but to no avail.

“Anders,” the tall man yelled at the smaller man. “Make sure he cannot get free.”

“Yeah, awlsright,” he grumbled in his southern draw. “Yain’t got to yell.”

The tall man removed his hat and wiped his brow, gazing out from his hiding spot between the two buildings. From his vantage, he could easily see across the clear and rolling hills out to the horizon. He figured this allowed clear sight out to a few minutes - enough to give him a warning if anyone dared approach. He replaced his hat and squinted, eyes searching empty darkness.

“Ya, the binds are tight boss,” the said as he pulled and yanked on the ropes behind William. As he neared William his rotten teeth produced a nauseating odor and William had to turn his head. “He ain’t going nowheres.”

“Good,” he did not turn to face the shorter fellow but pointed out across the road to a building on the far side. “Now climb up to that loft across the street. And Anders, take the rifle.”

“Got it boss,” he scurried off, one hand on the rifle and the other holding up his too large pants. “I’ll kept an eye out toos! Don’cha be worried!”

The tall man spit at William boots. Without turning to face William he said “And you, you keep your mouth shut. I don’t want you spooking the natives.” To emphasis his point, his pistol appeared and pointed at William’s face, just an inch between the barrel and his nose.

“You got it mister,” William spoke through his dry, chapped lips. “Not a word from me, but..”

The tall man spun to face him, dropping to a squat so he faced eye to eye with the seated William. His dark eyes were hidden in shadows and it gave him an eerie look. “Look. I drug you here to protect you. You seem insistent on ignoring that fact. Without me you would be dead right now.”

William’ mouth opened but the tall man cut him off first. “Shut it.”

He withdrew a small radio from his pocket, hit a button. A faint beep was heard and William could just pick up the voice on the other end of the line. “Go.”

“Miller, I have William holed up in Old Gulch, six miles north of the incident. Outnumbered by the hostiles and with minimal armament. Request immediate extraction.” He spoke in a hushed tone with quick bursts of information. He did not move.

The voice on the radio uttered a simple “Understood” and was silent.

The tall man stood and performed a quick search of the empty hills. Finding nothing, he looked back at William. His eyes said disappointment and urgency.

“Extraction unavailable at this time, recommend team relocates to grid…”

The tall man raised the radio to his mouth, visibly shaking in anger. “What don’t you get? There is NO fucking team! It is just Anders and I…and this…this civilian! We are fucked unless you get us out of here pronto!”

Only silence answered him. He shook the radio, raising it behind him to smash it at his feet. The sound of crunching wood across the street stopped him.

William spun to get a vantage on the source just in time to see Anders smash through the wooden walls of the barn across the street. The wood shattered and was tossed through the air by the force of Anders body. Anders flew in an arch and crashed to the ground with a bloody snapping sound.

Something moved behind the barn and William strained to see through the darkness. A massive amorphous blob rose behind the barn, easily reaching fifty into the heavens. From each side of the creature, wavering tentacles writhed and twisted. Atop the thing’s head, if it could be said that it actually had a head, was a bulbous mass of yellow eyeballs, hundreds of them, quickly darting this way and that.

William immediately pissed himself.

“Meadows,” the radio suddenly squawked.  “Libra Six has authorized extraction. Two clicks north from your current position. Envoy en route.”

“Finally!” His smiling eyes turn to William and his hand reached inside his coat, producing a large knife.

William eyes somehow grew even larger, he gasped. He began to squirm and shuffle away from the tall man. “What are you going to do? With that?”

“Shut your mouth and come here,” the tall man stepped towards William and grasped for the bound man’s hands. “Stop wiggling damn it, I am going to cut you free.” He grabbed out quickly and with a lighting-fast twitch of his wrist William’s ropes were slashed.

William sat there, surprise covering his face.

The tall man broke the silence. “Look, the trucks will come from that direction,” he pointed behind William, a dirt road was faintly visible through the black. He shoved a small metal box into William’s hands, a simple grey box about the size of a deck of cards. “Run like your life depends on it, run like hell, and don’t look back. Only one of us is going to make it out of here. Get that to Miller, he’ll know what to do.”

William rose and stood, barely aware of his sudden change of events. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came.

“No need for thanks yous and such,” the tall man dipped his hat and gave a slight nod. “Name is Meadows. Now get out of here, that beast is not going to wait around.”

“Thank you,” William sputtered.

Meadows pulled out a second pistol and gave a slight grin. “Just tell that bastard Miller that I went out with both my guns blazing like a devil.” And then he turned and ran into the street, both pistols spitting fire at the unnamable bulbous mass.

William turned and ran. The last thing he heard was Meadow hollering a rebel yell over a blood-curdling growl of the alien creature.

No comments:

Post a Comment